Adobe Palace

by Joyce Brandon

  Then she wrapped a strand of nettles around his left thigh. He hadn’t thought his legs would be so sensitive, but his whole body jerked wildly for a moment, then got control of itself.

  She next wrapped another strand of nettles around his right thigh. He clenched his jaws, but his body could not be controlled. It jerked and twitched.

  Chila surveyed her handiwork and shook her head. Denny was still too strong. She added another strand lower down on his thigh. According to her grandmother’s notes, the nettles would drain off his power, so he could be killed. She hoped she’d made enough of the strands.

  She pressed them against him, to be sure the poison got next to his skin. “Uhhhhh…” The sound groaned out of him. His body jerked less than usual, and he didn’t appear to be feeling it much anymore. Chila saw that as a bad sign. Maybe his devil powers were overcoming her grandmother’s remedy. She got off her step stool and moved it over to where she could reach his left wrist.

  “Get me my nails and hammer!” she yelled at the men on the ground.

  Steve opened his eyes, but he was careful not to move. Every movement, no matter how slight, renewed the attention he got from the nettles.

  Ham Russell walked over to the place where the extra lumber lay on the yellowed grass. He poked around for a minute.

  “Don’t see the hammer or the nails.”

  Chila got down and stalked over there. Steve had never seen such a determined woman. She shoved Ham Russell out of her way and lifted every piece of lumber until she had assured herself that what she looked for wasn’t there.

  “Did you take my hammer and nails?”

  Roy Bowles scowled. “I thought you was through with ’em.”

  “Dammit! Go get ’em! And you better be quick about it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Samantha climbed steadily upward. At the crest, she saw the desert, covered by the red fog of sand that was only now settling down on the ground.

  She picked what looked like the best route down the side of the mountain and struck off. Downhill was easier and faster. She stopped to catch her breath and wonder if perhaps Nicholas had turned back and was waiting for her at home. She prayed for him to be asleep in Juana’s arms.

  Buoyed by hope, Samantha resumed her descent. Shortly she came out of the thickets and saw two men riding toward the rocks at the entry of the cave.

  “Up here!” she yelled.

  They stopped their horses before the rocks piled in front of the cave’s entry. Samantha ran down the hill as fast as she could without losing control. Finally she stumbled out onto the level ground and ran forward, yelling.

  “Ramon! Ian!”

  Ramon looked up and motioned to Ian. Samantha stumbled to a stop before them.

  “We thought you were in there, lass,” Ian said, pointing to the cave.

  “I was,” she panted. “Did you find Nicholas? Have you seen Steve? We got separated.”

  “No, señora.”

  “Did you stop at the Dart ranch?” she asked. Steve had been headed in that direction the last time she’d seen him.

  “Sí, señora.”

  “Did you tell Chila?”

  “Sí.”

  Chila’s knowing seemed ominous. Samantha knew she had to find Steve, and fast. “Ian, will you lend me your horse?”

  “Aye, lass. I say anytime a horse’s owner wants to borrow him back, she has this Scot’s blessing.”

  “Stay here and look for Nicholas. I’m going to the Dart ranch.”

  The ride took less than an hour, but it was the longest hour of her life. At the Dart house, Samantha dismounted and started up the steps. “Hello!” she called out.

  At the top of the steps, she yelled again; “Chila?”

  Joe Dart opened the door. “Ma’s not here.”

  “Have you seen Steve Sheridan?”

  Joe hesitated. He’d never felt more confused. He didn’t know, as his mother’s child, whether his job was to help his ma do what she seemed to need to do so damned bad, or whether he was supposed to just keep doing what was right, no matter what effect it might have on her.

  “Joe, I need help! Steve may be in danger.”

  Joe felt like his head was gonna bust right open. Samantha Forrester had been a friend to his ma all these years. And before she got involved in this thing with Sheridan, Ma had always taught him to do right. “I don’t know what got into her. She’s been acting crazy since the minute she saw him ride into town.”

  “Joe, you know where they are! Take me there.”

  “Roy Bowles just left here with a hammer and nails.” The picture Joe’s mind made was an ugly one. He’d thought and thought about all this—and he couldn’t even think of a good ending to it all. He ran to the barn and dragged a horse out of one of the stalls. Bareback, he led Samantha up the side of the mountain.

  The rising sun showed a clear sky. With the sun would come warmth to ease the chill. Even so, Arden Chandler thought it a hell of a thing for a boy with lung problems to be lost in the desert.

  Arden rode with the cavalry patrol until they saw a house half buried in the side of the mountain. “That’s the Dart ranch you were looking for,” Rathwick said from beside him. “We’re going to keep searching for the boy.”

  “Thank you, Captain. I’ll keep an eye out for him, too.”

  Chandler turned east toward the house. The cavalry patrol continued northwest.

  Arden Chandler sat his horse a moment, looking at the house. He might get a cup of hot coffee there, but then again he might not. If this Chila Dart was the one he knew, he might take on a quick load of buckshot. He patted his horse and dismounted stiffly. He was getting too old for long horse rides. His arthritic hip was giving him a fit. He should have remembered that before he set off on this wild-goose chase.

  He fumbled in his saddlebags for the biscuits and bacon he’d packed. With them in hand, he limped to the nearest rock and leaned against it.

  Idly he chewed his biscuit and gazed at the mountain behind the house. On the side of the hill, he saw riders climbing. One alone, and then a little lower down two others. That was odd. Then he noticed a clearing and what looked like a cross. Frowning, Arden rubbed his eyes. If they weren’t deceiving him, and they never had before, there was a man on that cross.

  “I’ll be double damned,” he growled, putting his biscuit in his pocket and heading for his horse.

  Tristera saw the soldiers, and her legs went so weak she almost couldn’t pull herself up onto them.

  “A cavalry patrol,” she said. Her heart pounded with sudden fear, but she knew that would not stop her. She knew what she had to do, and she would do it in spite of the fear.

  Blue uniforms were only a hundred yards from her. They might pass her hiding place by if she remained quiet, but she could not do that. The boy needed to be taken home.

  As she walked closer, she recognized the man at the front of the band as Rathwick. Shakily she stepped into the clearing and waited for him to see her.

  Rathwick glanced up and raised his hand; men behind him halted. He said something she couldn’t hear to the men, dismounted, and walked toward her alone.

  Rathwick was surprised and glad to see Tristera, but something about the way she watched him caused him to stop a few feet in front of her. She looked thinner and older than the girl who’d run away from the dance only a few hours before. Disappointed and chagrined at himself, he took off his hat. He had wanted her to run into his arms.

  “Why did you run away, Tristera?”

  That seemed an odd question to her. There were so many other things he could have asked her. “Because I am the Indian woman you look for.”

  Rathwick blinked as if trying to ward off hearing what he’d already heard. His next question caused her to wonder if he had somehow accomplished it.

  “Where’s Mrs. Forrester?” he asked softly.

  “Did you hear what I said? I am the Indian woman you are looking for. I am Elunami.”

  Joe
led Samantha up the hill. Trees on either side of the narrow path obstructed her view. The birds were strangely silent. Even the squirrels didn’t show themselves.

  Joe turned his horse; Samantha followed. The terrain leveled off. Samantha straightened in the saddle and tried to see around Joe, who appeared to have stopped.

  “Hold it right there!”

  Samantha recognized Ham Russell’s voice.

  “I gotta see Ma.”

  “Not now you don’t!”

  Samantha rode up beside Joe. “I have to see Chila.”

  “Sorry, ma’am, but I’ve got my orders.”

  Samantha leaned to the right of Russell and saw Steve tied to a cross, with Chila on a short ladder behind him.

  “Oh, my God!” Samantha kicked her horse hard. The tired animal lurched forward, spooking Russell’s horse so that it reared and let her flash past. At full gallop, Samantha’s horse raced into the clearing. Too late, Roy Bowles kicked his horse in the sides and angled to intercept her. But she had not come this far to be stopped. She whipped her mount forward. At the last second, Bowles lost his nerve and let his horse veer away.

  Jubilant, Samantha leaned close over her horse’s neck to clear the remaining distance between herself and Steve. A rope dropped over her and her horse’s heads. Samantha looked back to see that Ham Russell had not given up. Her horse, tired anyway, gave in to the heavy pressure against his throat and stopped.

  Grinning, Ham Russell rode up beside her. Over Russell’s shoulder, Samantha could see Steve bleeding from a dozen places.

  “Stop!” she yelled, lifting Steve’s revolver out of her pocket and pointing it at Ham Russell. He halted at the sight of the gun. Behind her, she heard a horse’s hooves on the spongy mat of pine needles. Bowles, Russell, and Joe were all in sight. Puzzled, Samantha turned her head slightly, trying to see who was coming. Russell knocked the gun out of her hand and dragged her off the horse.

  Samantha fought him, but he was too strong for her. Over his head she saw Joe Dart watching, but he was too dispirited to do anything to help her. She struggled for a moment, but Russell’s weight was too much for her. She went limp.

  “You give up?” Russell asked.

  “Yes,” Samantha said, lying.

  Ham Russell grabbed Samantha and pulled her to her feet. Keeping a hard grip on her left wrist, he jerked the rope down and wound it around her arms, pinning them to her sides.

  “Chila!” Samantha shouted. “Chila, make him let me go! I have to talk to you!”

  “So you can defend the man who killed your boy?” Chila yelled back at her.

  “I got the hammer and nails,” Bowles yelled.

  “Chila! Steve didn’t hurt Nicholas!”

  “Keep her back!” Chila yelled. “Your boy’s dead! I seen him!”

  “Oh, no,” Samantha moaned, praying that she was lying. “Joe! Make them let me go!”

  Joe hung his head. Satisfied that Roy and Ham had Samantha under control and that Joe wouldn’t be any more trouble than he usually was, Chila took the hammer and nails from Roy Bowles and turned back to attend to Denny. Though Chila hated having to do this herself, she was determined to see it through. Her grandmother’s remedy for dealing with devils was specific. You had to do certain things in a certain order, and Chila wasn’t about to turn yellow at this point and let him come back at her, madder and more vengeful than ever.

  She positioned the step stool under his left hand and climbed up on it. She could hear Samantha Forrester screaming in the background. Usually that much racket would stop her from just about anything, but not this. She positioned the nail over the vein in the palm of Denny’s left hand.

  Her stomach lurched a little, but she knew that was just the devil trying to stop her. She didn’t want to look at him. Grandma’s remedy advised against looking at a devil once you’d started, but she couldn’t help herself. His head was bloody; his eyes were swelled almost shut.

  “Why are you doing this?” he whispered.

  Chila turned away from his eyes, which did manage to look hurt and confused. Her stomach lurched with compassion. She would hurry and put him out of his misery. Even a devil had some feelings, apparently.

  Chila hit the nail with the hammer. Devil’s blood spattered Chila’s face. She hit the nail again. Once started, the worst thing you could do was stop.

  Samantha felt Steve’s pain echo all over her body. Ham Russell lifted the shotgun to menace her with it. Ignoring the threat, Samantha ran at Chila, screaming.

  Chila ignored her and pounded on the nail until it seemed deep enough into the wood, then she sank down onto the step stool, shaking so hard her chest hurt.

  “Shut her up!” she yelled at Ham Russell, who was just letting Samantha scream. In spite of the rope around her, she managed to get a few feet from the cross, her eyes filled with horror and tears streaming down her cheeks. It was apparent Samantha didn’t understand the nature of this beast on the cross. Chila wanted to comfort her friend, but the job had to be finished.

  Drive the first nail into the vein, Chila remembered from her grandmother’s diary, in the left hand that goes directly to the heart. Done. Drive four nails into the heart.

  “How could you?” Samantha screamed, and launched herself on top of Chila. Though bound, Samantha hit Chila hard enough to knock her off the ladder. Then she fell on top of her, biting and kicking. They fought wildly. Only the knowledge that the job had to be finished gave Chila the strength to lift the hammer and bring it down on Samantha’s head. It was only a glancing blow but enough to stun her. Chila hit her again. Samantha fell limply to the ground; Chila struggled up and positioned the step stool, so she could finish the job.

  “Now keep her there,” she yelled at Ham Russell.

  Before Russell could reach her, Samantha staggered up and bumped Chila from behind. Chila kicked her and screamed at Ham Russell, who had apparently decided to just watch.

  “Get her off me!” Chila screamed.

  Ham ran forward, grabbed Samantha, and started pulling her away. It took both Roy and Ham to make any headway at all with her. She kicked and screamed and bit them.

  Panting, Chila climbed up the step stool and positioned the nail over Denny’s heart. A hand grabbed her hammer arm and held on tight.

  “Get her away from me!” Chila screamed.

  “We’d a had more privacy in the town square!” Ham yelled.

  Startled, Chila looked around—into the face of the old man holding her with such a strong grip. She had the feeling she should know him, but she couldn’t quite place him.

  He forced the hammer out of her hand and stepped up onto the step stool. Chila couldn’t figure out why Roy or Ham hadn’t stopped him from coming forward. Unless he’d walked by as they wrestled with Samantha.

  The man dragged her off the step stool.

  “You stay put,” he growled, glaring at her. She was so stunned by his sudden appearance—and the feeling she should know him—that she just stood there and watched. He stepped up onto the stool, felt Denny’s wrist, and looked sadly down at her.

  “I’m the one you want up here,” he said.

  Samantha stopped struggling. She, Ham Russell, and Roy Bowles turned as one to look at the man who spoke. Even Joe Dart seemed to have come out of his stupor.

  “What?” Chila asked.

  “Don’t you recognize me?”

  Chila shook her head. Then his resemblance to the man on the cross struck her.

  “Denny?”

  “Yes. It’s me,” he said heavily. “And you’ve killed your boy.”

  “Denny?” Chila asked, her voice incredulous.

  “Who the hell else would come out on a day like this?”

  Dumbfounded, Chila looked at the man on the cross.

  “He’s the baby you thought I drowned back in Tulsa.”

  “No…” Chila shook her head. “No.”

  “Yes. I’d wager anything on it.”

  Chila started to cry. It couldn’t b
e, and yet this old man seemed so sure of himself.

  “I been looking for you and him for almost twenty-four years now,” the man said.

  “For me?” Chila asked dumbly.

  “To tell you I didn’t think that boy they found in the creek was ours. I wrote to your folks, but they’d rather die than let me know where you were. I gave up looking for you years ago. Then I came here. Didn’t even ask around for you like I used to do. Selena told me it was foolishness. I finally believed her…more or less.”

  Weak and confused, Chila leaned against the cross. A jolt of pain shot through her and she jumped. Nettles around the man’s legs had stung her neck. It burned like fire.

  “We got to get these things off him,” she said, looking around for her knife. Even if he was already dead, his poor body shouldn’t be tortured any more than it had been.

  With everyone watching in silence, Chila climbed up and cut away the strands of puncture vines and nettles around his head, arms, neck, and legs. His skin was blistered and cut and bloody. Her hands shook so, she almost couldn’t do it.

  Denny and Joe took the nail out of his hand. They cut the ropes holding him to the cross and lowered him as gently as they could to the ground. They untied Samantha Forrester, and she fell on his body and cried.

  Feeling sick, Chila sat down on the step stool and cried for a moment herself, then peered up at Denny, who looked a lot older than she did. Time hadn’t been as kind to him. His hair was white and his face seamed.

  “I loved that baby!” she said defiantly.

  “You used to love me, too, but that didn’t stop you from trying to kill me when they found that drowned boy.”

  “You used to love me, too, but it didn’t stop you from giving another woman your baby!”

  “I can’t believe you thought I’d kill my own son.”

  It puzzled Chila now, too. “I blacked out and woke up more than a year later…”

  Ignoring them, Samantha pressed against Steve’s chest, consumed by grief. She felt sick and outraged and full of despair at the same time.