When The Heart Beckons (35 page)

She now faced a different kind of trouble.
She sensed with purely feminine instinct that Red Cobb meant to
exact a vicious and personal revenge for her deception. He had
already fondled her breasts after he’d bound and gagged her,
laughing as he tossed her upon his mount. And the crude glint in
his eyes had promised much more of the same. A shudder shook her as
she wondered if he meant to kill her after the rape, or just leave
her hurt and stranded somewhere in the mountains to die.

And what then? No doubt he would still
return to kill Brett.
But Cade will stop him
, she told
herself, forcing back the tears that clogged her dry, aching
throat.
He’ll defeat Lowry, and then he’ll save Brett from
Cobb
.

But who will save me?

I’ll have to save myself
, she
concluded numbly, and wished for the thousandth time that she had
her derringer.

“A little farther, and then we can stop and
start the fun,” Cobb mocked her in her ear. To her horror, his
revolting mouth nibbled at the base of her neck as his horse’s
hooves flew across the blood-dark grass. She felt his hand cover
her breast and squeeze hard.

Despite herself, she could not hold back a
moan of protest.

“Like that, Miss Investigator? Well, you’re
going to love what’s coming up next.” He laughed uproariously in
her ear, and his hand fell away to grip the reins once more. “Yes,
indeed, ma’am, you’re not missing a thing by leaving that fancy
ranch back there. You and me are going to have our own little
private party and it’s going to be a helluva fiesta.”

C
ade spotted his
prey advancing from the dining room to Lowry’s big main parlor,
smiling and nodding at all the guests. Tomas saw him at the same
time, and as Cade watched, the dark-haired boy, approached the
man.

Lounging against the wall, pretending to be
absorbed in his glass of champagne, Cade watched the whispered
conversation, complete with gestures from Tomas. The black-garbed
man looked obediently where Tomas pointed, then nearly shoved the
child out of his way in his haste to reach the hallway.

Casually, Cade began to walk in the same
direction.

When he reached the staircase, he edged
around behind it where he could better hear the voices coming from
the small paneled study.

“So you’re ready to sign? Just like that?
Well, it’s about time.”

“You leave me no choice,” Conchita’s voice
reached Cade softly, sounding low and sad. “It is too dangerous to
continue on this way—not knowing what will happen next.”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to make you
understand,
señora
.” The black-garbed cowboy gave a
triumphant laugh. “Come on with me and we’ll tell the boss ...
señora
.” But as he reached for her arm, Cade hit him over
the head from behind, the barrel of his gun connecting with a
sickening thud. Cade kicked the door closed just before the body
thudded to the floor.

“That should do it.” He nodded at Conchita,
and bent to grasp the cowhand under the arms. He dragged him behind
the brown leather sofa and dumped the limp form beside the other
two men Brett had described to him as being part of the plot.

“I guess these three hombres won’t be
ambushing anyone tonight,” Conchita said with solemn
satisfaction.

“Not likely.” With one easy movement he
opened the study window and then stuck his head out. Tomas waited
outside, grinning eagerly at him. “Here is your rope,
señor
.”

“
Gracias
, Tomas. Nice work.” Cade
found himself returning the boy’s excited smile, feeling something
lighten within himself as well. It was good to see Tomas happy. The
boy at least felt he was doing something to avenge his father’s
murder. Maybe after this night, if all ended well, he would be able
to go on with his life, to leave all the pain and the bitterness of
the past behind him, and not let what had happened to his family
scar him for the rest of his life.

Now if only Brett can do his part and
come out of this in one piece, there will only be Lowry left to
deal with. And if I can’t provoke that son of a bitch into drawing
on me, then I’m no son of Ross McCallum.

He frowned as he finished tying up the last
of the trio. If what Brett had heard from Boxer was true, then
Brett himself was no true son of Ross McCallum. Cade didn’t know
what to make of Boxer’s story, except that it turned his stomach.
But he knew one thing—Brett was his brother no matter what. It
didn’t matter that they’d been apart for thirteen years, it didn’t
matter that only Livinia’s blood might flow in common in each of
their veins—they were brothers in every sense of the word, and he
would give up his own life if necessary to save Brett’s.

But if things went as he planned, it
wouldn’t come to that—for either of them.

When Cade finished, he and Conchita left the
three behind the sofa, and turned down the lamp before going out
and closing the door. Even if Lowry’s men awoke and yelled for
help, no one would hear them, what with the music, the merriment,
and the general din of the fiesta.

“Now it’s time to see how that brother of
mine handles himself,” he said quietly to Conchita as they returned
to the parlor, where strolling guitar players were serenading the
guests as they helped themselves to blueberry pies and tiny iced
applesauce cakes. Adelaide hurried over, but Cade gave her only a
brief nod before scanning the crowd.

Where the hell was Annabel?

He hadn’t spotted her once since he’d come
downstairs, but then, he’d been pretty busy rounding up those three
snakes.

She must be with Brett
, he thought
to himself, trying to stifle the jealousy that lanced through him
at the thought. If what had happened upstairs between them made any
sense at all, it told him that he didn’t have reason to be jealous
of Brett. But still, nothing had been settled between him and
Annabel, and he’d made his own doubts about the two of them more
than clear. In fact, Cade reflected, he’d tried his best to
convince her that things probably
wouldn’t
work out
between them.
Can you blame her then if she does decide to turn
back to Brett?

Suddenly, shouts erupted from the terrace,
making him forget everything else. Cowboys, ranchers, townsfolk,
children, women, and hired help alike turned and stared in that
direction, muttering among themselves. Like a herd of cattle,
people began moving forward.

“Ellis, you’re a no-good cowardly skunk. You
put your boy and his friends up to playing a mean trick on Tomas
Rivers, and I think you and your son owe him an apology.”

That was Brett’s voice.
He sure sounds
mad
, Cade thought admiringly. Though his younger brother was
inexperienced, he’d learned fast how to survive out here, and he
had courage.
Good for him
, Cade acknowledged, and suddenly
guessed that Annabel must be out there on the terrace too,
somewhere nearby, perhaps keeping Tomas away from the line of
fire.

He headed that way, shouldering his way
through the crowd.

“You can go to hell, McCallum,” Cade heard
Ellis taunt back at Brett. “I don’t know what that little Mexican
squirt’s been telling you, but I think boys should settle their own
problems in their own way, and men should settle theirs. My
question is, which one, amigo, are you—a boy, or a man?” he
bellowed, and then gave a contemptuous guffaw.

“I’m no amigo of yours,” Brett shot back.
“As for the rest, if you have the guts, we’ll find out.”

“I don’t reckon I care for your tone.” Ellis
was staring at Brett hard. “Unless you want to apologize, I reckon
I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”

Cade had reached the terrace by now and he
saw the crowd ebb back like tide from a seashore. Murmurs rose and
fell like dark waves. Lowry was there, watching, listening. Cade
stayed behind a tall rancher in a silver-trimmed suede vest, not
wishing Lowry to see him—yet.

“Now, boys,” one man whom Conchita had
pointed out earlier as another small rancher who had reluctantly
sold his property to Lowry, spoke up uneasily. “Can’t you settle
this without gunplay? Why don’t both of you go on home and sleep it
off?”

Several others muttered agreement with this,
and a woman’s stern voice called out, “We came to dance, not to
fight.”

“Folks, you’re right. I hate to see
bloodshed as much as the next fellow,” Calvin Lowry announced,
stepping forward with his hands lifted before him. “This is my
little fiesta and I don’t want any trouble. None at all. So maybe I
can talk some sense into these boys. But I have to say, they don’t
seem drunk to me—they’re just plain mad. Ellis, my advice to you is
to simmer down. You don’t want to shoot anyone tonight. Maybe you
and McCallum here can just forget about this little disagreement
and—”

“No way, boss.”

The crowd set to murmuring again.

“McCallum, what about you? Why don’t you
just apologize to my foreman here and then we can go back to
dancing, like the lady suggested?”

“Go to hell, Lowry.” Brett flicked the
rancher a contemptuous glance.

“Well, folks,” Lowry sighed, dropping his
hands in resignation, “as you can see, I tried.” Lowry shrugged and
edged backward. “I reckon there’s nothing left to do now but let
‘em settle this the only way men know how.” Calvin Lowry’s voice
boomed commandingly louder over the disapproving swell of voices.
“Let them fight.”

Lowry had halted near one of the stone
benches that lined the terrace. As he threw down his cigar,
squashing it beneath his boot, his eyes were riveted with
satisfaction upon Brett’s face. Cade was no more than ten paces
away and his palm itched, for he realized that he could pick the
cattleman off in an instant. But that would be murder.

Cade smiled thinly to himself. No, he’d
wait. This had to be done legal. Legal for New Mexico.

People flowed backward, giving the two men
space. A hush of tension fell over the assembled guests as the
torches cast eerie yellow light over the proceedings, and somewhere
in the mountains, thunder rumbled again.

Finally Cade saw Lowry’s glance shift from
Brett to flick over the crowd.
He’s looking for me, and for his
three hired killers
, Cade realized with grim amusement. But
Lowry was doomed for disappointment.

“Any time you say.” Brett’s arms hung at his
sides.

Cade marveled at how confident his brother’s
voice sounded. This was his first one-on-one gunfight, but though
Cade had tried to come up with another strategy, Brett had insisted
on going through with it. Cade, though uneasy, knew he had to let
Brett handle this challenge himself. Red Cobb was a different
matter—he was a skilled gunslinger, practiced, ruthless, and with a
draw akin to lightning, but Hank Ellis was a far more equal
opponent. Assuming Brett had benefited from the formal training
Ross McCallum had insisted on for his sons, he should be able to
handle an overcocky piece of scum like Ellis.

Or else
, Cade reflected with a
tight spasm of fear in his gut,
I’ll have my own brother’s
death on my conscience
. But at this moment, he knew there was
nothing he could do.

“You’re sure, boy?” Ellis taunted. “You
don’t want to back down and apologize and get your ugly hide off
Mr. Lowry’s property?”

“Not a chance, Ellis. Now are you going to
gab all night or are you going to get down to business?”

“I’m going to blow your damned brains out,
boy! Right now!” Ellis roared, and his hand flashed downward for
his gun.

Brett drew smoothly and fired. His aim was
true. The bullet tore through Ellis’s green vest and ripped into
his chest. It killed him instantly.

He toppled at Lowry’s black-booted feet.

The cattleman’s cheeks blotched with
surprise. Then his lips thinned into a snarl. He glanced swiftly
about, and Cade could tell he was wondering why the hell he hadn’t
heard more shots, why there weren’t screams and an outcry because
Roy Steele was dead.

But there was only the same gray hushed
silence from the crowd.

Brett was breathing hard, and he was pale,
but his face was stony and set as he stared at the man he’d
killed.

Cade did a quick scan of the terrace. He
spotted two of Lowry’s men together on the fringe of the crowd.
Maybe they’d step in to bail out their boss and maybe not.

At any rate, he thought as he stepped
forward around the knot of people before him and made his way
toward Lowry with a long, slow stride, the time for Mr. Calvin
Lowry to end his bullying days on this earth had come, one way or
another.

“What’s wrong, Lowry? You look kind of
disappointed.”

“My foreman’s dead, Steele, what do you
expect? I want you and your whole troublemaking bunch off my land
now.”

“Not very neighborly, trying to throw out
invited guests. Or am I wrong? Didn’t you invite Conchita and
Adelaide Rivers and Tomas to your little fiesta? Right kind of you,
considering you murdered Alec Rivers and have been doing everything
you can to steal the family’s property.”

Thunderous rage darkened Lowry’s eyes. He
nearly shook with the livid rage that gripped him. “You’ve got a
helluva nerve accusing me of that in front of all my friends and
neighbors, Steele. Mrs. Rivers,” he snarled to Conchita, standing
with Tomas beneath one of the torches, “you never should have
brought this lawless gunslinger to a fiesta for civilized folks.
I’m sorry, but I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Not yet,
señor
.” Conchita regarded
him stonily. Beside her, Adelaide’s chin jutted forward with
anticipation.

“We’re about to see vindication for my son’s
murder,” the older woman snapped out. “You know it, Lowry, and we
know it. Think we’d miss this? Naw, we’re not going
nowhere
.”