Midnight Rider (40 page)

“You did not mention my name?”

“No, of course not. I didn't want them to know I knew who you were.”

He relaxed a little. He hadn't considered that Carly might inadvertently tell them who he was. Inwardly he scoffed. Angel still had plenty of time for that.

“Tell me what happened,” she said.

Ramon sighed wearily. “The Indian trackers the vigilantes hired discovered the back way into Llano Mirada.”

“Dear God. What happened to the others, to Pedro and Florentia, the women and the children?”

A muscle bunched in his jaw. “Nearly a dozen men were killed. Many of the others were wounded, I am not sure which ones. All of the women and children got safely away. They arrested Pedro and three of the vaqueros from Llano Mirada.”

“What about you? How did you escape?”

“I was not there. By the time I arrived, the fighting was ended. I uncovered the story in bits and pieces from the men I found hiding in the woods. My cousin Angel is the man the
gringos
believe is El Dragón.”

“Y-your cousin?”

“
Si.
So far he has let them continue to believe it. Why, I am not sure. I suppose it is fortunate for me that things happened as they did. After I left you that night, I was headed for Llano Mirada. I had some . . unfinished business … with my cousin I wished to attend.”

“You were going after Angel because of me?”

“You thought that once I knew the truth I would let him live?”

“Dear God, Ramon, you can't just kill him.”

“I could kill him with my bare hands for what he tried to do to you. And for what losing you has done to me.”

She searched his face for long, breathless moments, then she came up on tiptoe, tightening her hold on his neck, and he dragged her fiercely against him, burying his face in her hair. It smelled of cinnamon and roses.

“I had to see you,” he said. “I will be riding out tonight, meeting the men at a place called Arroyo Aguaje. In three days time, the night before the hanging, we will ride into San Juan and set the vaqueros free.”

She drew away from him, stared worriedly into his face. “You can't do that. Surely they'll be waiting.”

“I do not think so. They believe the men have scattered, that their leader is in jail. Besides, it does not matter. Pedro and the others are going to hang. I cannot let that happen. With the help of my men, I believe I can free them.”

Carly bit her lip, her eyes wide and searching. “I don't want you to go. I'm afraid for you, Ramon.”

A corner of his mouth curved up. “Does that mean that you are ready to come home?”

Carly let go of him, took a step away. “How … how are your mother and aunt?” she evaded, uncertainty clear on her face.

He sighed with frustration. “My mother has been ill, but she is fine now. Tia is as she always is, a steady rock for all of us to cling to. Both of them have nagged me without end to stop acting foolish and bring my wife home. In the end, as usual, they were right.”

Her eyes searched his face. “What if I came back and they discovered what happened the night Andreas was killed, that I was the one who sounded the alarm by ringing the bell? Can you imagine the pain it would cause them? How do you think they would feel about me then?”

“They would feel as I do. That what you did was no different from what Two Hawks had to do when he fought the men who attacked his village. You did only what any of us would have done if our home had been threatened. And they do know, Cara. Tia told me they have known since the night of the
fandango.
”

“They knew?”

“
Si.
Even I did not know they had heard the story though perhaps I should have guessed. Tia worried in some way that was part of the reason you did not return with me from Monterey. I did not tell her it was my cruelty, my prejudice that was keeping you away.”

Her head came up, golden lamplight shining on her fiery auburn hair. His body stirred at the shapely curves outlined beneath her thin white nightgown.

“You speak of the past so lightly,” she said. “But it is more important than that. Have you considered that if I came back, sooner or later, there would be children? Mixed blood children, Ramon, part Anglo, part Spanish. How would you feel about that? Would you love them less because their mother was a
gringa?
”

He moved toward her, gently gripped her shoulders. “
Madre de Dios,
I cannot believe I have done this to you—made you doubt the very heart of me. Do you really believe I would not love our children?
Santo de Christo,
I cannot imagine a sweeter, more beautiful child than a little girl like her mother. Or a son with your courage and strength.”

A sheen of tears appeared in her eyes. She blinked and pushed them away. “I'm not courageous, I'm a coward. I'm frightened that if I come back I might lose you again, and if I did, I wouldn't be able to bear it.”

He pulled her back into his arms, kissed her eyes, her nose, pressed a soft kiss on her mouth. “You will not lose me. I have made mistakes, but I am not a stupid man. I will not make those same mistakes again. I love you. If you will come home, I will prove how much every day for the rest of our lives.”

The wetness reappeared. A single tear slid down her cheek. “I need time, Ramon. I keep hearing those things you said, those terrible names you called me. I keep thinking—”

“Do not say it. I know the kind of man I am. I know that I can be ruthless, at times I can even be cruel. I have learned to be as I am, but it is not truly my way.” He raked his hands through his hair, his muscles taut with frustration mixed with rising desire. “I am not saying I am an easy man to live with. I know I have a very bad temper and I can be arrogant at times.”

A corner of her mouth curved faintly. “Yes, you can be quite arrogant at times.”

“Am I really so bad, Cara?”

She looked into his eyes, seemed to probe deeply inside him. “You're obstinate and overbearing. You're demanding and nearly insatiable in bed. And you're the most wonderful man I've ever known.”

“Cara…” His heart expanded with love for her. He wanted to carry her over to the bed, to take her as he had the last time he had been there. He wanted to bury himself in her tight, damp heat, to feel her trembling beneath him. He wanted to claim her, possess her, make her admit that she was his. Instead he ignored the pulsing in his loins and forced his mind to think of the reason he had come.

“I will be back for you as soon as I have freed the men. When I do, I will not let you refuse me, even if I have to carry you away.”

She cupped his cheek in her palm and he felt the trembling of her hand. “Be careful, Ramon. I wouldn't want to live if you were killed.”

He drew her against him and kissed her with savage force, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, claiming her as his. She belonged to him and he wanted her to know it. “I will come back for you,” he said in a voice gone rough, “I swear it.”

He wished he could stay, but his men were depending on him. He shouldn't even have come, but he'd had to see her one last time. The plan he intended was bold and dangerous. The odds were greatly against him. Yet his friends' lives depended upon him, and he meant to save them if he could. He kissed her again, quick and hard, then crossed the room, went over the sill, and slipped quietly to the ground. In minutes he had disappeared into the darkness.

If he rode hard, he would reach the cave at Arroyo Aguajes by midday tomorrow. The others were there, he knew, word had come through one of his vaqueros. Just as a message had arrived from Alejandro de Estrada, telling him his efforts in finding the old church records had all been in vain.

After examining the documents, the Land Commission refused to alter their findings. They would not reopen the case. There was no legal way, Don Alejandro's missive said, the de la Guerras could win back Rancho del Robles.

And illegal methods had not worked. The raiding they had done had not begun to weaken Fletcher Austin's power or that of the other Anglos in the area. Though Andreas had believed they had a chance, Ramon had known from the start they could never defeat their enemies that way.

The past was over. One way or another, El Dragón's days were at an end. Just one last foray into the night, one last raid to free his men, and his outlaw days were finished. If he could survive one more night—and if Angel had not betrayed him again—he had a chance to put all of this behind him. He could fetch his wife home and make a life for them at Las Almas. It wasn't the life they would have had at del Robles, but Carly didn't seem to mind and if she could be happy, then so could he. Together they would build a future, have children, be content.

One more raid, he told himself as he swung up on the saddle of the big blood bay that would carry him to Arroyo Aguajes where his tall black stallion stood waiting.

Just one more raid.

If he could somehow manage to stay alive.

*   *   *

Carly barely slept that night. She was too worried about Ramon. He would be riding into San Juan Bautista, confronting the sheriff, risking his life to save his men. She had not tried to stop him. She knew him too well for that. He loved Pedro Sanchez like a father, and the other men were his responsibility as well. At least that was how he would see it.

She dressed in the sapphire blue riding habit that came with the things Two Hawks had returned, but much of her clothing and personal items remained at Las Almas. Why Ramon kept them she wasn't sure. For herself, she had left them there on purpose, unable to sever her ties with him completely. It was a small thing, yet it gave her some connection with the place she still thought of as home.

Thinking of the people she missed at Las Almas, Carly left the house and made her way to the stables. She needed some time to herself and riding had become the means to that end.

“Jose, are you in here?” she called out, and the tall vaquero who worked with the horses stuck his head out of one of the stalls.

“
Si,
senora. I am here.”

“I wish to go riding. Would you saddle me a horse?”

He grinned so wide, she could see the white of his teeth even in the shadows of the barn. “
Si,
senora, I have just the one.”

She eyed him with some speculation, following him back toward the stall he'd just come from. Carly's breath caught as he opened the door and led out the most beautiful palomino mare she had ever seen.

“For you, senora, from your husband, Don Ramon. Mariano brought her here only this morning.”

A hard ache swelled in her throat. Ramon had done this for her. Ramon. “She's beautiful, Jose. The most beautiful horse I've ever seen.”

“She is Andalusian,” he said. “Don Diego, Don Ramon's father, used to raise them by the hundreds when he lived at Rancho del Robles. They were sold when the rancho went to sale. Don Ramon bought back a few. His stallion, Rey del Sol, was among them.”

‘I knew about Rey, but not the mare. I've never seen her before.”

“It was to be a surprise. A wedding present, Mariano said. The don has been raising her somewhere in the mountains. One of the vaqueros has been training her for you.”

Pedro Sanchez, most likely. Perhaps at Llano Mirada. “She's beautiful,” Carly said again, stroking the mare's velvet nose. “What's her name?”

“Sunflower.”

Carly blinked hard. Still, the tears collected behind her eyes and several spilled over onto her cheeks.

“Mariano said the don meant to give her to you himself, but yesterday he changed his mind. He said this way, no matter what happened, you would always remember him.”

Carly bit hard on her lip. Dear God, he wanted her to have the mare in case he was killed in San Juan. She had to get out of there before she started crying in earnest. “Saddle her for me, will you, Jose?”

He smiled. “
Si,
senora.”

Carly brushed the wetness from her cheeks and waited outside while her sidesaddle was placed on the prancing golden mare with the snowy mane and tail. She looked exactly like Rey del Sol, only smaller, more petite. It occurred to her suddenly that she
had
seen the horse before, that this was the mare she had seen in the meadow, mating with Rey del Sol. Even now, the little mare must be carrying the stallion's colt.

It was a gift without measure, a gift that could come only from love.

Thinking of Ramon, of how much she loved him and how worried she was for his safety, Carly climbed up on the mounting block and settled herself in her sidesaddle atop the little mare. She rode all morning, appreciating the horse's perfect gait, the way the animal obeyed her commands without question. Unconsciously, she made her way deeper into the hills and eventually wound up at the pool where she and Ramon had made love.

As worried for him as she was, she found herself smiling. When he came for her again, she would go with him and gladly. She loved him and he loved her. She had never really been a coward—only for just a short time. And she would risk anything for the love of a man like Ramon.

She dismounted from the mare and let the horse drink from the mirror-smooth surface of the pool, nostrils flaring, muzzle sinking deeply. Stroking the horse's sleek golden neck, she ignored the terrible barb of fear that Ramon would be killed in San Juan and never return to take her home.

*   *   *

Miranda Aguilar knocked on the door to the
cocina
at Rancho del Robles, and buxom Rita Salazar pulled it open.

“Dios mio!”
Rita's black eyes misted with tears. “
Mi hija,
where have you been?”

Miranda hugged the mother she hadn't seen in the last three years. “Many places, Mama. I did not know that you were here.”

Rita slid a stout arm around her daughter's slender waist, urging her into the kitchen, and they sat down on a bench in front of a roughhewn table.