“
Bandidos
? Hamby and his boys? Anna, they’re holed up in your cabin, and they’re armed. Don’t you understand? It’s over — at least until I can come back with help. I told you it wasn’t safe for you to be here. You have to go with me now.”
She jerked away from him and shook her head emphatically
. “No. I thought that I could do it, but I won’t leave those killers in my home — I can’t. I can’t leave them there with her.”
Alarm surged through Quinn’s veins
. “With
her
? They have somebody? Did they abduct a woman?”
She didn’t answer, didn’t move
. Night breezes fanned her hair, which had by now escaped its braid completely. Quinn shivered with a chill borne on both her words and the cool wind.
Once more, knowledge seemed to flow out of the darkness, to take form, solidify inside him.
“With
her
. . .” he repeated, his voice not much louder than the wind’s. “You mean with Rosalinda, don’t you? Anna . . . Rosalinda’s gone.”
“She isn’t
. Not to me. She’s in this canyon, Ryan. Can’t you feel her, too?”
Quinn hesitated
. If he were anywhere but here, on any other night, he might have laughed at her. Or, more likely, he would have felt pity. For a woman who’d let isolation warp her thinking, who’d let a lost child live again inside her soul.
But like her, he stood near a pinnacle within these red rock canyon walls
. And like her, he’d felt something, something that had warned him to hesitate back near the cabin, when he’d bumped into a cross that marked a tiny grave. Something that had warned him that Anna didn’t recognize him when she held the pistol pointed toward his chest. Something that convinced him that she spoke of leaving Rosalinda even though the child’s death was long ago.
So he didn’t laugh or argue
. Instead he tried to reason with her as if what she’d said were sane. “They can’t hurt her anymore, but they
will
hurt you. Rosalinda wouldn’t want that, would she?”
Anna pressed her fingers to her temples and rubbed as if she were in pain
. “I can’t let them take her from me again. I have to find a way to make them leave.”
She must be hurt worse than she’d admitted
. She was talking like a madwoman. Quinn became even more determined to get her out of here, to safety.
“What do you suggest?” he asked impatiently
. “That we tap on the door and ask them politely to go home? Don’t you know what they’d do to us? Don’t you remember what they’ve done?”
“I remember now
. I remember all of it. Each word and every hurt. I won’t forget again. I’m going to take this gun, and I
will
make them go, or I will kill them.”
Quinn reached down to take up the pistol she’d dropped and tucked it into his own belt
. “Like hell you will. You’re just one woman. Let me come back here with a posse, and we’ll take care of this.”
“They’ll be long gone by then
. You know it. And then I’ll have to stay away.”
“They won’t get far
. We have their horses.” He only hoped they had them all. There might well be other outlaws searching for Anna in other parts of the canyon. But he kept his fears muzzled, for they’d do nothing to persuade her.
“No, Ryan
. This stops tonight.”
Quinn felt his temper rising
. Why couldn’t she let him do his job? There had to be some way to convince her she couldn’t win against the desperados. “What happened to your rifle, Anna? How did they get that away?”
“I — I started to remember . . .” Her voice faltered
. “I — I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t think . . .”
“So what makes you believe you’ll do a better job this time
? You’re hurt, exhausted, hungry — I’m taking you to my house .”
“I’m
not
going,” she insisted, her shoulders square, her stance defiant. “I told you I can’t.”
“I’m not giving you this gun.”
She grabbed for the pistol, so swiftly that he barely had time to react. But Quinn had been a lawman for six years and before that both a gambler and a fighter. With reflexes honed by experience, he drew the gun — and pointed it at her — in an instant.
Notion limped out of the shadows, growling deeply.
“You wouldn’t shoot me,” Anna said. She sounded confident of that.
The big dog crouched, as if to leap
. Quinn pointed the gun at him instead.
“Maybe not
. But I’d shoot him to save your life.”
“
Tonto obstinado
!”
“I’ll assume that wasn’t complimentary.”
“Notion, sit,” Anna ordered, then spoke again to Quinn. “How can you do this?”
The dog glanced, as if confused, from Quinn to his mistress, then whined before complying
. Still, Quinn heard the low rumble of a growl warning him that any sudden moves might cost him a dog-bite.
Quinn’s aim didn’t waver
. During his weeks in Anna’s cabin, he’d come to feel affection toward the yellow cur, but he hadn’t lied. No matter what the cost, he couldn’t allow Anna to throw away her life.
“I won’t forgive you for this, Ryan,” she swore.
His heart ached with her words. He felt like an outlaw himself, forcing her to leave here, threatening to kill old Notion. How could he explain to her his desire to get her clear of this place, his need to keep her safe?
The words eluded him, so he settled for terse orders
. “Use your belt to lead the dog. I don’t want him coming up behind me. We’re climbing down to get the horses. Then we’re going to ride out of this canyon, find a safe place where we can rest awhile.”
When she turned to comply, the setting moon’s light streaked along a tear-trail on her cheek
. He wanted more than anything to take her in his arms, to comfort her, but he sensed that if he touched her, she would fight him. Then he’d really have to shoot her dog to keep from getting torn apart.
And if he took that desperate step, he knew there would be no way in all the world he would ever find the words to win her love.
CHAPTER TEN
Near Cañon del Sangre de Cristo
April 8, 1884
Quinn led three other horses, tied in one long line. The Cortéz family’s gray and the dead outlaw’s bay gelding trailed along behind the white-flecked roan that Anna rode. The four horses clattered from the canyon’s mouth and began the uphill trek toward the plateau above.
Anna scarcely noted the gnarled trees and rocks that marked the landscape
. Instead, as she rode the gelding, her head bobbed. Yet she did not doze; she grieved.
For so very long, she had lived alone
. Alone with the breezes trailing through the canyon, scented by the juniper and piñon that grew along its ridges. Alone with the stark beauty of the red rock that hemmed her wounded spirit, sheltered her against the memories of the woman she’d once been. Alone with a presence she had always felt was Rosalinda.
Señora Valdez had disagreed.
“Have you never wondered why the Navajo come here whenever they’re allowed to wander, why the Old Ones dwelled here in their caves? This
cañoncito
is no home for ghosts, but it
is
a sacred place. Though laws and papers say I own it, one might as well say it owns me. Just as it claims you, my
hija
, you, my daughter, too.”
“But I feel my child here,” Anna had protested. She had whispered her next words, half-afraid the old woman would judge her as mad as she’d first judged herself
. “Sometimes I even hear her crying, crying like she did before she died.”
Anna’s eyes teared, remembering the conversation
. Remembering what the señora told her next.
“This is not your child, but the force I have sought all my days
. The Navajo call it something other, but to me it is
el dón
, the curing power. I have seen you draw upon it to heal others. I used it years ago to restore your torn and broken body. Will you not allow this canyon to heal your heart as well?”
“But, señora, the baby’s crying
. I can hear her where the music used to be . . .”
“Perhaps someone made
un trabajo
against you. This is a sickness of the spirit and not your child’s lost soul. She has gone with God already, as do all those innocents who perish. She has returned to
Dios
.”
But Anna knew the curing woman had been wrong
. Though she accepted many of the old woman’s teachings, she didn’t believe that anyone had put a spiritual curse on her. Hamby’s assault, brutal as it was, had been direct in nature. She knew, too, that Rosalinda hadn’t left her for that last and longest journey, for she often felt the presence of the child.
At least until Quinn had forced her from the canyon. Ryan, the one man in all the world she’d thought might believe her
. The one man in the world she’d thought it might be possible to love.
To think she’d almost wanted him
. She glared at Ryan’s back as it swayed on his mount before her. She wished she had something more substantial to throw at him than
mal ojo
. But she would have to settle for her best approximation of the evil eye, for the scoundrel had tied both her hands behind her with some scratchy rope he’d found inside a saddlebag.
Foolish, to try to cast a curse whose existence she’d never admitted
. How the señora would have laughed at her for that!
“
Mal ojo
is always caused by wanting,” the old woman had told her. “A woman admires a babe that is not hers, or she looks on a handsome priest. If she does not touch this person to release the wanting, the child, the man will soon fall sick with fever.”
Anna glared again at Ryan
. Angry as she was, she refused to touch him, even if he sputtered into flame before her eyes.
His tan shirt had lightened with the dawn, yet it grew no more distinct
. Anna wondered if the thin clouds were at fault or her vision. Since yesterday, her only sleep had come in the form of unconsciousness when she had fallen. The drink she’d taken from the canteen Ryan had helped her recover had only served to inflame both her hunger and her thirst. She needed food, more water, and rest to help her marshal her defenses against her one-time lover.
And then she would make him pay for what he’d done
. She would find some way to escape with a weapon, some way to return to her canyon, to her home.
Ahead of her, Quinn’s form tilted, and she wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her once more
. But Quinn caught the saddle horn and righted himself, then shook his head as if to clear it.
“We have to find a place to rest soon.”
“I have a fine cabin some miles back,” Anna said, focusing more sarcasm into every syllable.
He turned toward her, and despite the fuzziness of her vision, she would swear she saw deep lines of sorrow on his handsome face
. Or perhaps his own hunger and exhaustion had worked against his strength as it had hers. As furious as she was at his behavior, she still remembered how recently he’d been shot down, left for dead at her front door.
A stab of pain jagged through her skull, reminding her of her own injury
. Or maybe it was only the remembered horror of seeing him so cold, so still, as pallid as a corpse.
He scarcely looked much better now, with his unshaven jaw and the way he leaned in the saddle
.
“We need to sleep
. You look like hell,” he muttered.
“Funny
. I was thinking that you probably feel like hell yourself.”
Notion whined, his right front paw held aloft
. Now unleashed, he’d been struggling on three legs to trail their horses.
“We’re not the only ones who need rest,” Quinn said.
“So now you’re concerned about his welfare. A few hours ago you said you’d shoot him — just before you tied me on this sorry excuse for a horse.” She nodded toward the roan, who’d bitten her leg as Quinn had helped her mount it.
“I’m sorry, Anna
. Threatening Notion and tying you were the only ways I could think of to make you see reason.”
“There are many types of reason, far more than those you acknowledge
. I
will
return to Rosalinda. I will not let them win this time.”
“And I told you I won’t allow it.”
She glared once more at the former gambler, then decided it was time to call his bluff. “Then I hope you have bullets enough for both the dog and me.”
“And I hope you have sharp teeth to chew your way through those ropes.”
“You’ll have to untie me sometime.”
“Lord, I hope not.” Quinn’s smile was as lopsided as his posture
. “I’d sooner turn loose a mad bobcat.”
She scowled, but scowling did nothing to ease her body’s needs
. Finally she offered, “I know a place where we can go. The Rodriguez
rancho
is not so far from here. They’ll shelter us until we’re rested, and I can check their babe as well.”
“Which way do we ride?”
“I’m not going as a prisoner. Untie me, and I’ll lead the way.”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed
. “How do I know you won’t take off?”
“On this nag
? Your mare could catch him in an instant. Besides, you have the gun. I may believe in spirits, but I’m not insane.”
He urged his horse a few steps nearer, near enough that he could reach out and touch her if he wished
. As if her thoughts prompted the motion, he moved to do just that. But his hand stopped before it reached her cheek. He sighed and let it drop to rest on his right knee.
“I don’t think you’re insane,” he said, “just upset and confused. Anna, I want you to understand
. Last night I nearly rode this gray into the ground, scared to death I’d find you murdered. I knew then . . . my feelings for you have changed completely. Promise me you won’t leave, and I will untie you.”
She saw how much it cost him to peel away the layer of charm he showed the world, to reveal so much to her
. He tried to plaster over his admission with a lopsided grin, but anxiety showed through as he waited for her answer.
He could wait ‘til hell froze over
. She wasn’t about to sit here and declare undying love to a man who’d tied her in the saddle.
“I won’t run,” she told him
. And she didn’t plan to, at least until she was well rested and fed.
Quinn sighed, no doubt disappointed that she’d chosen to ignore his admission
. True to his word nonetheless, he leaned forward and worked to loosen the knots binding her wrists. Her mount made the task more difficult by kicking at his mare, who snapped in retaliation. The roan gelding arched its back in what Anna suspected was preparation for a round of bucking.
As soon as she and her mount were free, Anna took the reins, which had been tied behind the roan’s neck, and moved it away from the mare
. They were in bad enough shape without allowing one horse to lame another. Too, the action took her out of range of Ryan’s touch. Like his mare, she felt inclined to snap.
Yet she could not forget the truth in his voice
. She could almost feel the desperation of his night ride, his growing fear for her. The sun rose higher behind the silver veil of clouds, illuminating the rock-strewn plateau, illuminating the reasons for his actions, too.
But the flesh around her wrists had chafed, and the memory of the pistol leveled at her dog chilled her blood
. His terror offered only explanations, not excuses. If fear could cast him in the role of brute, it was better that she know now, before she allowed his other charms to worm their way into her heart.
As if to pay a penance, Quinn dismounted and scooped up Notion in his arms
. Anna wasn’t sure how he managed, but somehow he mounted the mare and draped the injured dog across his thighs. Notion must have trusted him, for his tongue lolled and his tail wagged, sure signs of canine pleasure.
The sun had nearly reached its zenith when the
villa
came into view. Unlike the rest of the sparse collection of cabins that dotted the surrounding area, the Rodriguez home boasted several rooms of cream-colored adobe, which kept it cool in summer and warm during the winter months. In the distance, knots of cattle grazed serenely among the tender shoots of spring. A collection of more roughly built sheds spread across the area, and a trio of brown and white paint horses watched intently from a spacious corral. From its gate, a
vaquero
emerged, a saddle tossed over one broad shoulder. Anna recognized him as Esteban, the Rodríguezes'’ sole hired hand.
The young man smiled broadly, displaying both a thick mustache and the wide gap between his front teeth
. He waved Anna a greeting. “
Curandera
,” he called cheerfully in Spanish, “you come a day too late.”
Despite his smile, alarm jolted Anna
. Had she been right from the start, when she’d believed the infant sickly? Had Catalina’s daughter died so soon?
“They have all gone to take the little
señorita
to be christened by the priest in Copper Ridge,” Esteban continued as they rode nearer. “But what’s this? Are you injured?”
Just as Quinn had earlier, Anna found herself listing to one side with weakness
. Only she lacked the strength to pull herself upright.
Quinn dismounted quickly and set the dog down, then hurried to catch her as she slid out of the saddle
. Her vision grayed, and for a time she knew no more.
* * *
“You can tell him he’s killed Papa! That’s what you can tell him!”
Lucy stared in disbelief at the stranger who was shouting past Elena at the door
. She’d never before seen a grown man crying, as this man was weeping now. If he was truly a grown man. She couldn’t be certain, but he looked even younger than her twenty years.
Mesmerized, Lucy stood immobile in the doorway of the parlor, where she’d been having tea with Miss Rathbone
. She could hear the older woman’s footsteps behind her, and she knew without looking that Miss Rathbone had put on her sternest bulldog glare.
Elena put her hands up as if to ward off the young man’s emotion.
“His Honor sees visitors by appointment only.” Elena’s smooth, accented words gave no hint of welcome. “I will leave for him a message if you wish.”
“Cameron, are you in there
? It’s Horace Singletary! Are you there?” he shouted past the woman. “Do you hear me? Papa’s dead, you bastard! Do you know what that means? It means I won’t rest until the truth’s out!”
From behind his thin-framed glasses, his gaze came to rest on Lucy, and in the space of a moment, his expression changed from fury to embarrassment
. But in that fraction of a second that fell between the two, Lucy thought she recognized a flash of interest.