“The men of Governor Salezan’s army are gathered and awaiting your orders, Captain.”
“Good. We’ll go at first light.”
Cuellar flashed a smile that he claimed could convince a woman to strip to her skin in less than a minute. “Ah, an entire night ahead of us. I invite you to accompany me, Captain Poteet. There are three women awaiting me. In truth, I can use your help.”
Poteet changed the subject with a wave of his hand. “I’ve not time for that, and you don’t, either. You’d best be spending this night sleeping. We’ll have to make the trip south at a record pace, and it won't be easy dragging two women along with us. That’s why it’s so important for the men to make this raid look as real as possible.”
“They will do well.” Cuellar reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a cheroot. “I have distributed the face paint and breechclouts. Willie Norris has been practicing his Comanche yell. For a Kentuckian, he sounds quite realistic. The only man I had trouble with was Oates. The fellow’s skin is too fair. He’d never pass for Indian, so I sent him to spy on the Europeans.”
Poteet frowned as he absently watched Cuellar light his smoke and take three deep draws. The acrid scent of tobacco swirled in the room, and Poteet frowned. He couldn’t abide tobacco, made him sneeze. “I hope to hell we’re going about this the right way,” he said. “It’s a gamble, taking the women and hoping he’ll follow. But since the governor wants Sinclair delivered uninjured, I think it’s the only way. It’d take every man Salezan has in Texas to drag Sinclair to Mexico, and even then, I’m not certain we wouldn’t end up killing him before we arrived. Still, the governor won’t be at all pleased with us if things don’t work out as planned.”
“It will work, amigo,” Cuellar insisted. “Believe me. I followed that wagon train for three weeks, and I saw how Sinclair watched his woman. Always his eyes were hungry. And since their mysterious side trip, he has been after her night and day.”
“That side trip,” Poteet repeated, “still worries me. If you’d been on the job like you were supposed to be, we would know where they went and whether it in any way puts our plan at risk. I promise you, Cuellar if you allow that pecker of yours to distract you one more time, I’ll kill you myself.”
The Mexican shrugged and held out his hands, palms up. “But, Captain, I cannot help myself. The women simply won’t leave me alone.”
“Yeah, well you’ll wish they had when I get through with you,” Poteet said dryly. “Tell you what. You do your job right, and once we board the ship, you can do whatever you want with Sinclair’s woman.” A speculative light dawned in Cuellar’s eyes as the Texan continued, “As long as the men carry out their job successfully, we should have at least a couple of days’ head start on Sinclair. With the women along, we’ll need every minute of it.”
Cuellar dropped his cheroot on the floor, then ground it out beneath his boot. “Promised such a reward, I’ll see that we’re given a week, Captain Poteet.”
In the yard outside the hotel, the large bell that hung from a post began to ring, signaling time for supper. Poteet grabbed his hat and said, “Let’s go downstairs. I’m hungry.”
As Cuellar waited for Poteet to lock his door, he asked, “I am curious. When was the last time the Comanche attacked here in Dallas?”
“Years ago,” Poteet answered. “But these crazy Frenchmen don’t know that, do they?”
THE DAYS had rushed past from the time Brazos and his relations felled the first tree until they nailed the last shingle into place. As Brazos waved good-bye to those members of his family who’d offered their help, the Europeans marveled at the speed with which the Americans had worked.
Inside the brand-new house, Lillibet attempted to prod a subdued Madeline into discussing the arrangement of the small amount of furniture she had acquired in Galveston. Brazos, as quiet as his wife, walked into the kitchen and overheard André Brunet say to his Lillibet, “we are still rolling rocks into place while Sinclair has finished his home. Do you think Americans do all things so quickly?”
“Frontier living necessitates that some things be done fast,” Brazos answered. “We’ve learned to raise a shelter and put in our crops as fast as a tonic peddler can spot a phony coin.” Attempting to liven the atmosphere, he added, “But we know when to slow down, too. Isn’t that right, Maddie mine?” He offered her a wicked wink.
Madeline didn’t take his bait. She simply said, “Whatever you say, Brazos.”
Damn, she was taking his leaving hard. But then, it wasn’t a pickle barrel full of fun for him, either. The past two weeks—hell, the past two months, for that matter—had proven just how lonely a life he’d lassoed himself into. Truth be told, leaving the warmth and happiness he’d found with the runaway beauty and her little Miss Magic would be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
Brazos realized that these short weeks spent with Madeline and Rose might well be all they’d ever have together. Although he’d do his damnedest at it, he couldn’t swear he’d be alive when the business with Salezan was over,
He had to go. He’d no choice. The demons inside him wouldn’t rest. Juanita would never be safe as long as Salezan lived. The children at St. Michael’s—hell, maybe even Madeline and Rose—none would be safe until he’d dealt with the monster of Perote. “Besides,” he muttered beneath his breath, “I’ve already sent the letter.”
The Brunets took their leave shortly after Lillibet helped Madeline unload a crate of pots and pans and hang them on the hooks mortared into the chimney. Brazos, having put in a full day’s work roofing the cabin, lay sprawled across the puncheon floor while Rose used his back as a hill to climb. “I’ve heard that in the Orient, there are women who walk on men’s backs as a prelude to lovemaking,” he said, heaving a grunt as Rose plopped down hard. “Can’t say that I rightly understand how it works.”
Watching the sun sink below the treetops from her kitchen window, Madeline said, “I imagine you could ask your Juanita about it. She’s right outside, walking hand in hand with Allyre Bureau. I don’t doubt that she is expert in such matters.”
“Meow,” Brazos mimicked. “What’s the matter Maddie? Are you jealous because she’s managed to snare that orchestra conductor? You didn’t have much luck with him aboard the
Uriel
from what I remember.”
“Monsieur Bureau is the former musical director of the Odeon in Paris, and I never set my sights on him,” Madeline replied, turning away from the window with a disdainful sniff. “He’s a pompous fool, and I noticed just the other day he’s beginning to lose his hair.”
Brazos’s hand checked the top of his head. Still thick as ever, thank God. “Nita likes him because he’s a musician and he brought a piano with him. She’s always had the dream of singing for an audience. Sort of like a Spanish Jenny Lind.”
Madeline wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry I brought up her name.” Her somber expression made a lie of her words when she added, “I refuse to feel anything but joy on the first night in my beautiful new home.”
She fussed about, lighting the lamps, and Brazos never took his gaze from her.
She’s more beautiful than ever
, he thought. Here in her own house, with Rose, and surrounded by bits and pieces of everyday life, Madeline had come home. And he’d not be here to share it with her. A vicious wrench of emotion caused him to murmur a groan.
Madeline started at the sound, and their gazes met before sliding hastily away. The house was completed. He would leave. Tonight would be the last night he would spend in her bed.
“Nighty-night time, Miss Magic,” Brazos said suddenly, rolling over and sitting up. Madeline, who chewed on her lower lip as she pretended to study the two prints of calico she’d tacked beside the window, looked over her shoulder and frowned. “It’s only half past six, Brazos. She doesn’t go to sleep this early.”
“Today she will. It’s been a hard day.” He gave Madeline a bold yet beseeching stare. “Gettin’ harder by the minute. Go to bed, Maddie. I’ll be there directly.”
She shut her eyes, and for a moment, her shoulders slumped. Then she straightened and smiled a beautiful, bittersweet smile, and it warmed him like a shot of Uncle Barney’s day-old corn liquor. “Make sure you cover her well, Brazos,” Madeline said, her hands lifting to the pins in her hair. “The nights are cooler here than they were in southern Texas.” She was loosening her braid as she exited the room, and as Brazos readied Rose for bed, he pictured that golden wave spread across the feather pillows in the room just a few short steps away.
“Sleep well, Miss Magic,” he said, pressing a kiss to the child’s brow. “And see if you can’t manage to drift off tonight without raisin’ a ruckus. I’ve a little of my own magic I’d like to be making with your mother.”
HER DREAM was done. The time had come to give it up. Madeline sat on the edge of her bed, gazing into her mirror as she brushed the tangles from her hair. For the first time in her life, she saw only her own reflection in the looking glass. Gone were the imaginary home, the imaginary husband, and the imaginary child. For two short weeks, the fantasy had become reality, but now the image had shattered. Brazos would leave her tomorrow.
“Will I find cracks in the glass when I look at you in the morning?” she asked the mirror. She lay the brush beside her and gently touched the swirls of gold and sparkling gems that framed the looking glass. “If I do discover fractures, will it be the fantasy destroyed or myself?” Staring at her reflection, she pleaded, “Work your magic, mirror. Don’t take Brazos back, not after giving him to me for this short amount of time. Share your enchantment with me. Show me how to keep him.”
The scuff of wood against wood heralded the opening of her bedroom door. Brazos stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He stood bathed in light from the wall lamp, his eyes dark with passion and hungry with need. For a long moment, they stared at one another.
“Will you have me tonight, Maddie mine?” he asked in a smoky voice. “Knowing that I’m leaving, that I couldn’t stay even if I wanted to, will you take me to your bed and bid me good-bye?”
Madeline’s magical mirror had answered her; she knew what she must do. She had to set him free.
“
Non, mon Coeur
,” Madeline said, standing. The green satin wrapper she wore hugged her like a second skin, and she felt his heated gaze rake her as she stepped toward him. “I’ll not tell you good-bye, Brazos Sinclair” she said, threading her arms around his neck. “Never. I’ll simply say
au revoir
.” She kissed him, and they traveled together to the magical place where dreams pale beside reality.
Madeline slept little that night. Time and again Brazos would turn to her and take her into his arms and love her. Sometimes slow and gentle, sometimes fast and fierce, he showed her with his body what his lips could not speak. She was lying with her head pillowed on his chest and blinking back tears when sunlight forced its way through the cracks in the shutters and plunged into her heart.
Determined not to be caught abed as the last time he left her, Madeline got up and exited the room. She’d make breakfast and send him on his way with a brilliant, if false, smile. Careful to work quietly so as not to wake Rose, she mixed biscuits and put bacon on to fry. She jumped, burning her finger on the side of the pan, when a knock sounded on her front door.
It was Lillibet. “I’m sorry to bother you so early, dear but I noticed the light was on. Thomas has been up for hours, and I was hoping I could bring little Rose over to distract him. I’ve hotcakes made for breakfast, and those are her favorites.”
“Well, she’s not up yet. She’s been stirring, but I really hate to wake her.”
Lillibet frowned. She wandered around the room, three times opening her mouth to speak before snapping it shut.
“Lil?” Madeline inquired as she rolled out her biscuit dough. “What is wrong?”
“Oh, all right,” Lillibet huffed, folding her arms. “You’ve forced the truth from me. André told me a few moments ago that Mr. Brazos is leaving. He said that yesterday your husband asked him to watch over the two of you. Is it true, Madeline? Is he really leaving?”
Madeline wiped her hands on her apron and nodded.
Lillibet sighed. “That scoundrel. Well, I’ve no intention of making it easy for him. Let me take Rose. I know he won’t leave without saying good-bye to her and I want the opportunity to say a few words of my own.”
Madeline didn’t have the heart to argue. In fact, she found she didn’t have the heart for much of anything. By now, Rose was standing up in her crib, watching the women and chewing on the rail, and Madeline stood silently as Lillibet gathered up the baby and took her home.
It wasn’t long afterward that she heard sounds of stirring from the room across the hallway. Brazos wore only denim pants when he entered the room moments later. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. “I wish you’d been with me when I woke up, Beauty. I missed you.”
“I guess you’ll have to get used to it, won’t you,” she waspishly replied. Immediately, she regretted her words. His hands dropped away, and tension all but crackled between them. “Brazos,” she began, “I’m sorry, I—”
“Forget it. You’re right. There’s no sense trying to pretend. That’s done with. The house is finished.”
Madeline stiffened her spine and buried her crumbling emotions beneath the hard shell she’d developed as a child. “If you want to gather your things, I’ll call you as soon as breakfast is ready. I know you’re anxious to be on your way.”
She thought she heard him sigh, but he said nothing until he paused in the doorway. “Where’s Rose?”
“Lil came by to get her.”
“Why’d you let her do that? You know I want to tell her good-bye.”
Madeline shrugged and answered, “You can do it at the Brunets’. It’ll be easier on Rose if she has Thomas there to distract her.”
Brazos opened his mouth to argue, but then abruptly snapped it shut and left the room. Her knees wobbling, Madeline took a seat at the kitchen table and stared, unseeing, toward the hearth.
A few minutes later Brazos poked his head around the door and asked, “Do you know where my wool coat is? I haven’t seen it since we left the
Uriel.
”