Archer, Jane (32 page)

"Gringo, you have come to welcome us?"

"What are you doing on the Bar J, Pecos? I thought I told you to stay away."

"There's a little matter unsettled between us," he said as his black eyes flicked over Alexandra, insolently.

"There's nothing to settle between us."

"No? Your herd. It is very fine. It is ready for the drive. The cattle are nervous, verdad? They are ready to move. If a sudden sound, or an accidental shot was fired into the herd—"

"Don't threaten me, Pecos," Jake said, his voice hard.

"Threaten? Me?" Pecos asked innocently, his palms turned up as he expressed his innocence.

"Take your boys, Pecos, and get off Bar J land now! Don't come back, or you won't get off so easily next time."

"Gladly. We came only for the pretty señorita.

We would have her for a time—to settle old scores, then she would be returned, only a little used," he said, chuckling deep in his throat. His men laughed behind him, their rough, loud voices harsh in the evening air.

Alexandra sat very still, her face a mask revealing nothing. She would not show fear, whatever Jake did, whatever happened to her. She had lived through a lot and she would survive this night, too.

"You're beginning to anger me, Pecos," Jake drawled, his hand lowering to his gun.

"Am I? I cannot understand this, gringo. I merely came for the woman," Pecos said, his own hand dropping toward his gun.

"The woman's mine, Pecos,"

"So, you will have the fight, hombre?"

And then the world seemed to explode into a horror of belching guns, cursing men and plunging horses. Alexandra heard Jake holler, "Get to Lamar, Alex. Warn the others!"

She wheeled her pony as she saw several men fall from their mustangs, only to begin fighting on foot for the two groups had merged into one struggling, panting, fighting mass of desperation. She could not discern Jake from the others and she couldn't tell how many were dead, or wounded. She pushed her pony on, away from the scene of death and blood and toward the restless herd, toward the others who must be warned.

She galloped furiously up to the chuck wagon, pulling her pony to an abrupt stop in front.

Cookie rushed out, a long gun in his hands, and said, "Lord, Miss Alexandra, thought you were the rustlers. Almost shot you."

"Cookie, where's Lamar?"

"Out with the herd."

"I must warn the others. It's Pecos and his ban-ditos. They're fighting with Jake and the cowboys. I don't know what—oh no! Look! The barns are on fire. Oh, Cookie!"

The dark night had suddenly exploded into bright lights and leaping flames coming from the direction of the hacienda. Alexandra felt a small fury grow in her breast. So—Pecos had brought two groups: one for the hacienda and one for the herd!

"What will we do, Cookie?"

"Look, miss, Jake'll take care of those banditos. You warn Lamar and I'll come with you. Then we'll see if we can save the hacienda, if it ain't already too late."

Alexandra and Cookie told Lamar what was happening, they rode as close to the hacienda as they dared. Cookie checked the gun on his hip, then jerked his rifle from its saddle sheath. He nodded at Alexandra and they ran, crouching low, toward the hacienda. The barn, bunkhouse and outbuildings were already ablaze, but Alexandra was relieved to see that the hacienda was as yet undamaged. They ran on until they were close to the hacienda. Loud voices came from inside and Alexandra leaped forward, determined to stop the banditos, but Cookie grabbed her roughly and pulled her back into the shadows.

"You can't run in there, Miss Alexandra," Cookie hissed in her ear. "They'd shoot you down. Look, there's only three mustangs tied out front so there's probably only three inside. That's the Bar J buckboard they've got too—planning to stow the loot in it, I bet. They weren't planning for much trouble up here. Thing to do is wait them out. Can't go storming inside.

"Can you handle a rifle?"

"Yes," Alexandra whispered, taking it in her hand.

"Good. Now, I'll cover the front door. You take the kitchen door. When they come out we'll get them."

Alexandra ran around to the back of the hacienda, after seeing Cookie take his position behind the buckboard near the front door. There was no cover near the kitchen door except for the old waterwell. She crouched down behind it, bracing the rifle on the well, aiming it and with all her senses on the kitchen door.

Suddenly Alexandra heard the sharp click of a hammer being drawn back into firing position. The sound was close to her left ear—too close. The cold steel of a rifle barrel kissed her cheek and she heard a heavy voice say, "You should not play with guns, chica. Someday they might hurt you bad. Throw your gun down the well, won't you please? For Jose?" he teased. Then his voice lost its humor and became hard and deadly as he added one final word, "Now."

Alexandra had no choice. She slowly edged the gun forward until it toppled into the well. It clattered downward and she heard a splash.

"Thank you, señorita. Now stand up and walk slowly ahead of me to the kitchen door," he ordered. She did. Once there he tapped softly on the window and soon the door was opened from the inside by another grinning Mexican.

He pulled her inside, letting his rough hands run up and down the smooth skin of her arms. She tried to shrug him off, but he only tightened his grip as he dragged her into the main room. Another man awaited them there. He walked up to Alexandra while one bandito kept the gun on her and the other held her to him, his hands moving up her shoulders, finding the bare skin exposed by the low cut blouse.

She was determined to show no fear and looked boldly back at the bandito who stood before her. She could smell his animal body heat and the stench of many weeks without soap and water. Grinning, he swept off his wide sombrero, revealing black oily hair.

His two coal-like eyes raked her body. "We are glad you have joined us, señorita. And now, should you not call to your old friend outside to throw down his gun and come on in to our little party? Eh?"

"Never!" Alexandra exclaimed.

"Oh? Then you would see him die?"

Alexandra's mind whirled. But what choice did she have? And so she called out to Cookie who reluctantly threw down his sixshooter and walked inside, his hands reaching for the sky.

"Now, muchachos, we will have our fun," the leader said to his men as he grinned at Alexandra. "This is much trouble, chica, to get you for Pecos, and we should have a little reward, don't you think?"

"No! You're all madmen. And you'll all be dead as well. Jake and Lamar are on their way."

"I think not, pretty gringa. Pecos keeps them busy tonight."

"You're mistaken—" Alexandra started, but yelped in pain as the bandito holding her suddenly pinched her nipple. Furious, she kicked out at him, striking his shin. He dropped her arms to grab the injured leg and she turned on him, pummeling him with her fists.

Cursing, the leader grabbed Alexandra, slapping her cruelly back and forth across the face. The heavy blows quickly subdued her and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Then he dragged her toward the table, calling out orders to his two men. They quickly tied up Cookie, leaving him so he could see the table.

The leader swept everything off the table onto the floor, then threw Alexandra on top of it. She struggled, trying to get away, but the other two banditos were there to help. One grabbed her struggling hands, pulling them up over her head, while the other secured her ankles, pulling her legs apart. Alexandra screamed, writhing desperately on the hard tabletop as her captors grinned at her, showing tobacco stained teeth. She shuddered in revulsion and screamed again. Surely someone would hear her cries for help.

The leader slapped her again, causing more blood to run from her swollen, bruised lips. Alexandra could feel the salty taste of her own blood as it ran into her mouth. But she didn't scream out any more for her throat was raw. She struggled against the hands holding her down, but her efforts were feeble now.

When he saw he had her restrained, the bandito leader got onto the table, his swollen, straining manhood freed of his pants. The banditos urged him on as he leaned over Alexandra with his large knife, and ripped open her blouse, exposing her soft, white breasts, the nipples an inviting pink in the soft lamplight. They raved with lust, almost unable to wait their turn. She was a beauty! A gringa beauty! They'd had few turns on a pale gringa and they wanted this one badly. The leader reached down, covering Alexandra's breasts with his filthy brown hands and squeezed, causing her to writhe in pain and revulsion. He laughed cruelly, then stood up again, his staff even more distended, wanting his men to appreciate his virility. He moved to Alexandra's parted legs, stepping inside with his large, booted feet. Then he brandished his knife again. He leaned down, thrust the gleaming blade under the fabric of her skirt and cut. Savagely, he tore off her panties, exposing her completely.

He shouted, then fell to his knees as the other two banditos ogled Alexandra. He forced her to accept the brazen tongue that plunged into her unwilling mouth. She struggled under his onslaught, trying to throw him off, but he merely growled deep in his throat and pressed himself against her.

Suddenly, the clink of spurs could be heard above the din in the room. The cold deadly voice of Jake called out, "You're a dead man, hombre."

It all happened fast. The leader jumped up from Alexandra, going for his gun as the other two banditos ran from the room toward the kitchen. There was an explosion of firing guns and the leader fell back onto Alexandra, spilling his warm blood down her naked body. She looked at him, horrified, as Jake and Lamar ran out of the room after the other two men. There were sounds outside: guns banging loudly, horses neighing, then the sound of pounding hoofs, retreating further and further away.

Jake and Lamar ran back into the room, hoisting the dead man off Alexandra's body. They carried him outside where they dumped him in the dirt away from the hacienda.

By the time they returned, Alexandra had hastily wrapped an Indian blanket around herself and was trying to untie Cookie who watched her with a crooked smile. She was bloody, cut, bleeding, and scratched; her hair was matted, but she was oblivious to everything as she struggled with the hard knots. Jake walked over to her, his face set in hard, unrelenting lines. He was dirty, too, his clothes torn, and blood trickled down from a cut on his face. But he was unaware of all this as he stood over Alexandra, determined to give her comfort but not knowing quite how.

Lamar moved more quickly, pushing away Alexandra's hands as he quickly began untying Cookie. Jake touched her arms, drawing her to him, his eyes a soft, concerned blue.

She looked up at him, then jerked away.

He was surprised, his face questioning as he said, "Alexandra? It's over. The banditos are all gone."

"Thanks, I'm glad," she said coldly, moving away from him.

Jake let his hands drop to his sides, watching her, confusion evident on his face.

"Let the others that got away be, Jake. They didn't harm me."

"They didn't, didn't—"

"I wasn't raped. You got here in time."

"I was afraid we'd be too late, Alexandra," Lamar said, his voice troubled.

"It's all right now. The herd?"

"We stopped the banditos. They got close, but we killed some, ran the others off. They won't be back soon," he said drily, "not after that licking."

"Good," Alexandra said, smiling softly at Lamar and Cookie. "Some of the cowboys must be hurt. Bring them up here and I'll see to them. Cookie can help me."

"You bet, Miss Alexandra. You get dressed and I'll start in the kitchen," he said as he got up and walked toward the kitchen.

Alexandra turned toward Jake and said flatly, "I'd better start with you."

"Take care of yourself, Alex," he said, looking at her closely, "you need some help, too."

"I guess you're right," she agreed reluctantly. "Do we have anything to use for bandages."

"Sheets will do," Lamar said. "Look, I'll go back for the men and send them here in relays." The strain between Jake and Alexandra was obvious and he wondered what had happened. He'd expected to see her throw herself into his arms after he had rescued her. Instead, she seemed cooler than ever.

"I'm going with you," Jake said. "I'll help there while the others come in."

Alexandra turned away, feeling a hard knot con-strict her chest. She walked quickly to their bedroom, and washed off the blood and dirt from her body. The cuts and scratches burned, but they weren't deep and would heal soon enough. She put on her riding habit, glad that it covered her wounds completely, then pulled on her boots. Although the night was warm, she felt chilled and was glad for the heavy clothing. She began brushing her hair, trying to get the tangles and weeds out. It was hopeless! Finally, she plaited it, then threw it over her shoulder. She didn't have time to worry with her hair. She scrubbed her face in a basin of water, but it didn't help her puffy, discolored lips. Sighing as she took a last look at herself, she hurried out of the room.

She quickly got out the sheets and began tearing them into strips. When this was done, she joined Cookie in the kitchen. He had a kettle of water boiling and in another kettle, he was busily making a stew. Coffee was also brewing and he'd gotten out a bottle of tequila.

He grinned at her when she entered, then said, "You look a sight better, Miss Alexandra. Those boys sure arrived just in time. Sorry I wasn't more help to you."

Alexandra patted his arm gently. "No one could have done more, Cookie. It's all ended well. We just have to get those cowboys repaired so they can make the drive."

The first relay of cowboys came in, at first sheepishly showing their wounds, then with more abandon as they realized the attention they got from Miss Alexandra with each wound. They'd never fought so well, or so hard, or had such
bad
wounds. Alexandra was regaled with stories of their daring. They'd never enjoyed the aftermath of a fight more. She soon had them bandaged, fed, tequila and coffee poured down them; they were ready for another fight.