The Beloved Woman

by Deborah Smith

  With a soft whimper of emotion she nestled to his side and held him.

  “KATIE, GAL. It’s time.”

  Katherine woke to Justis’s hoarsely whispered warning in her ear. The shed was very dark and she strained her eyes to see the moonlight that edged around the door. Her nerves on fire, she heard the soft rattle of the iron lock.

  She brushed one last kiss across Justis’s mouth. “I may never have another chance to say this. I want you to know that I—”

  “Señora!” a male voice murmured outside the door. “I am here to help you.” The door eased open and a short, stocky man crept inside the shed. “Doña Mendez sent me a few days ago to find out how you were doing. She grows worried because Don Salazar said you were too busy to visit her. My name is Diego.”

  He knelt beside them and felt the manacles that bound Justis’s wrists. “Por Dios! These will take some work to remove without the key.”

  “Don Salazar may come back at any moment,” Katherine said.

  “No, he has visitors. They are drinking and talking politics.”

  Katherine heard the grating rasp of metal filing metal. Justis shifted to give the man as much room as he could. “Can you get us a pair of horses?”

  “No, Señor, only one for you and the Señora to share. I will ride ahead and bring help back to meet you on the trail.”

  “How long a ride is it to the Mendez rancho?”

  “You could make it by dawn if you ride hard. By noon if you let the horse walk.” He panted a little and filed faster. “I saw you when they carried you here, Señor. You will need all your strength to ride a very slow horse all the way to the rancho.”

  “I know,” he said grimly. “That’s why I want you to take my wife with you. I’ll follow alone.”

  “We go together or we don’t go at all,” Katherine reminded him. “No arguments. Save your breath. You’re too weak to boss me around.”

  “Katlanicha—”

  “Don’t try to work Cherokee medicine with my name. We go together.”

  “I think you will need her help,” Diego commented.

  Justis cursed softly. “Can you loan us a gun in case Salazar catches us?”

  “Sí.”

  “How about a knife?” Katherine asked eagerly.

  The man’s hands paused in their work. She could see him well enough to know he was staring at her in amazement. “Sí—if that is what the Señora wishes.”

  “The doc needs her scalpel,” Justis said, his voice droll despite pain and exhaustion. “The cat needs her claw.”

  Katherine nodded to herself with bitter satisfaction. She had lost too many battles. This time she would save herself and Justis, or die.

  THE TRAIL WAS lit only by a white sliver of moon in the sky. Katherine guided the big bay mare up the side of a ridge until she reached a meadow at the summit. Suddenly it seemed that they were at the top of the world, surrounded by starry sky. Justis’s arm tightened around her waist. “Too risky,” he murmured, his mustache brushing her ear. “Too easy to be seen up here.”

  “If Vittorio is following us, he must be hours behind.”

  “Depends on when he found out we were gone. And how fast he’s pushin’ to catch up with us. Cut across the other side and angle back later.”

  “It will cost us time, but all right.”

  She held the bay to a slow walk as she descended from the ridge. Justis leaned against her back, his big body almost shoving her out of the saddle at times. When he gripped her tightly she winced in discomfort. “Dizzy again?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Am I squashin’ you?”

  “Not at all,” she lied. “Just don’t fall off. I can’t imagine how I’d ever get you back on.”

  “You’d have to leave me. If it comes to that, promise that you will.”

  “I promise.”

  “Liar.”

  “It isn’t polite to call a lady a liar.”

  “Still lookin’ for the perfect gentleman, are you?”

  “I’ve given up on gentlemen.”

  “What are you lookin’ for, then?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Still don’t need a man around?”

  “I need one.”

  “What kind?”

  “One who doesn’t mind cavorting with a divorced woman.”

  “You’re not divorced.”

  “I was married, but my husband married someone else. I think ‘divorced’ is the closest to a description for me.”

  “Are you tryin’ to make me mad so I won’t think about the pain in my head?”

  “No, I’m telling you the truth.”

  “I think you’re tryin’ to make me mad.”

  “Pshaw. Accomplishing that is easy. I don’t have to try. I’m merely talking to you so that you won’t fall asleep and slide arse first onto the ground.”

  “After all this mess is settled we’re goin’ back to New York, you hear?”

  “No. I like California. It’s wild and free, the way home was when I was little, and it’s one of the few places where I might be accepted on my own terms.” Her voice quavered. “And it’s where my only child is buried.”

  After a second he said, “My only child too.”

  She shook her head. “You have a child in Gold Ridge. With Amarintha.”

  “You are tryin’ to make me mad!”

  The bay leapt sideways as a cougar screamed from the woods to their left. Katherine brought her to a halt but she stood shivering, ready to bolt without warning. Justis groaned softly. “One more bounce like that and I’m done for.”

  Katherine was riding astride, the skirt of her dress tucked under her thighs. She swung one leg up and over the horse’s neck, as she had seen the vaqueros do, and dropped lightly to the ground. Holding the bay’s bridle in a tight grip, she led her back to the open meadow at the top of the ridge.

  Justis slid forward and wrapped his hands around the saddle horn. “Can you manage better that way?” she asked him.

  “Yeah. But you can’t walk the whole night—”

  “I walked all the way from Tennessee to Illinois. I can walk to the Mendez rancho. Don’t worry about me.”

  He laughed dully. “I always forget—you can do anything you set your mind to. Be a doctor, raise a babe without a husband to help you, travel halfway around the world, and make a decent life for yourself among foreigners. You don’t want my help, and there’s not a damned thing I can do for you, is there?”

  “You could tell me the truth about why you married Amarintha Parnell.”

  “If I make it to the Mendez’s place, I’ll tell you. That promise ought to inspire you to tug this hoss along faster.”

  “I’ll get you there,” she vowed. “And I’ll get the truth.” And then what? she asked herself sadly.

  ONLY THE BAY’S uncanny ability to pick out the trail in sheer darkness kept them from bumping into towering redwoods on either side. The forest was a majestic cathedral with a night breeze for a choir. Exhausted, Katherine stumbled over her own feet and braced a hand on the bay’s neck to steady herself.

  “Stop,” Justis said. She pulled the horse to a halt. Holding tightly to the saddle horn, he leaned forward, swaying with the effort, and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Climb up behind me. It’ll be fine.”

  She was too tired to disagree. When she was settled against his broad back she slipped her arms under his and latched her hands over his stomach. The November night was very cool, and he was deliciously warm. Katherine rested her face against his shoulder and sighed with happiness, remembering all the nights in their hotel room in New York.

  She had loved his sneaky way of whispering good night to her as he placed a sweet, sentimental kiss on the tip of her nose. He had always waited until he thought she was asleep. Reliving those moments, she nestled her cheek against his sweaty, bloodstained shirt.

  “You missed me,” he said.

  “Missed your fur and your heat.”

  “Hah. Can’t miss those without
missin’ me a little too.”

  “I missed you more than you missed me, I’m sure. You had Amarintha to distract you.”

  “And you had our baby.” There was only sorrow in his voice, not rebuke. “Tell me about her, Katie. Everything. From the day you realized you were carryin’ a babe until the day she died.”

  She hugged him gently. “All right. It’s a good thing you have the rest of the night to listen.”

  “You sound like it might be the only night you’ll give me.”

  “You’ll be leaving California soon.”

  “Not alone, I won’t.”

  “I’m not your wife any—”

  “But you’re the mother of my babe. Now tell me about her.”

  Katherine nodded slowly. Mary was the one bond he would always want to share with her. She began.

  JUST AFTER DAWN, as the light revealed steep hillsides covered in brown autumn grass, the mare grew excited and began to flick her ears backward, as if listening. “Dammit,” Justis said softly. “I bet she hears her own kind. They must be close.”

  Katherine’s heart thudded as she glanced at the land around them. Except for a few clumps of trees the hills offered little in the way of cover. Justis reined in the mare halfway up a hill and stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Katherine. “Walk to the top, but keep down so nobody can see you.”

  She dismounted and crept up the hill, then flattened herself to the ground near the summit and crawled on her stomach the last few feet. When she peeked over, she saw what she’d feared most—a group of vaqueros in the distance, led by a tall man riding a palomino. She ran back to Justis.

  “Vittorio. Maybe ten minutes away.”

  “Let’s go.” Sagging with the effort, he helped her climb up behind him. “Hold on.”

  “Can you hold on?”

  “I’d rather try than be caught.”

  As the bay scooted down the hill, Katherine snaked one hand around Justis’s waist and gripped the saddle horn with the other. “You’re anchored to me,” she assured him.

  “You may be sorry for that.”

  “No, never,” she said softly, but the wind whipped the words away.

  Katherine prayed for luck. If Vittorio continued leading his men in a path that was parallel to theirs, staying in the narrow valleys between the hills, he might never discover them. Their mare loped along at an easy speed she could probably maintain for miles.

  But only minutes later the landscape became their enemy. The hills began to recede, and ahead Katherine saw a large, shallow valley with a stream winding through it, banked by skeletal winter sycamores.

  Justis slid the mare to a halt. “We’ll hide. Let Salazar pass through first.” He backed the mare into the shadow of a hill and they waited in tense silence.

  “Rest,” she whispered.

  He leaned back into the harbor of her arms, shut his eyes, and let his head lie on her shoulder. She winced at the mass of cuts and bruises on his face. In the few spots without injury the skin was sickly pale.

  “You need a lot of doctoring, sir. I hope you don’t mind an old Cherokee method. It will help.” She licked as much of his face as she could reach, using her tongue gently to wash and soothe.

  “Hmmm. Remember that time in New York when we saw those African lions at the sideshow?” he asked.

  “Yes. Penned up. It was sad.”

  “The he-lion had a torn ear, and the she-lion was lickin’ it so sweet you could tell she liked him. I feel like the he-lion.”

  “If your hair gets any thicker, you’ll look like the he-lion.”

  The mare swung about suddenly, and they both nearly fell off. Katherine looked toward the hills behind them and cried out in dismay. One of Vittorio’s men had crested a rise. He spotted them immediately and wheeled his horse, shouting and waving as he did.

  “We’ll make a stand at the stream,” Justis said grimly, and urged the bay toward it at a gallop. When they neared the bank he guided her into a dense grove of sycamores.

  “At least it will be difficult for them to drag us out of here,” Katherine said. Her pulse roared in her ears. She touched icy fingers to the knife Diego had loaned her. It was tucked in a belt she’d made from her lace mantilla. Justis pulled the borrowed pistol from a sling on the saddle.

  They watched the approaching horsemen. Katherine’s heart sank at the sight of Vittorio and a dozen of his vaqueros bearing down on the stream. There were too many to win against. She nuzzled her cheek to Justis’s shoulder, knowing he must be thinking the same thing.

  “Well, let’s get to it,” he said gruffly. “Climb down, gal.”

  Salazar and his men thundered into the stream and drew their horses to a stop. Their guns drawn, they formed a line facing the trees. “Bring Catalina and come out, Señor Gallatin!” Vittorio yelled. “It is finished!”

  Katherine slid off the horse and held up her arms to Justis. “Easy, now. I’ll brace you. Don’t fall.” She tried to smile. “I don’t want you to tumble on your arse in front of anyone besides me.”

  “Wouldn’t look too impressive,” he agreed. For a second the world grew still and quiet. Her gaze held Justis’s and everything faded except the sharing of strength and devotion.

  A strange sensation shivered down her spine. Katherine curled her fingers in a beckoning gesture. “Come down.” She heard a pleading note in her voice and realized she was holding her breath. “Stand beside me and let’s give them hell together.”

  His eyes never left hers. Slowly he shook his head, then reached down and brushed one scraped, swollen finger across her lips. “Adela’s men ought to get here soon,” he murmured. “I’ll buy you some time.”

  “Señor Gallatin! Catalina!” Vittorio called. “You have no choice! Come out!”

  Katherine’s heart pumped cold horror. She spoke to Justis through gritted teeth. “Get off that horse, sir, or I’ll never forgive you.”

  He cupped her cheek with his hand. His gaze roamed over her face as if he were memorizing every feature for a long journey. “The day we met I said you were the kind of lady who made a man want to fight dragons for her. Remember?”

  She cried out desperately. “I won’t let you—”

  “Believe whatever else you want to believe about me, Katie Blue Song Gallatin, but don’t ever doubt that I fell in love with you that day and have loved you more every day since.”

  “Justis!”

  He slapped the mare’s neck and sent her plunging out of the sycamores. Justis slid her to a stop in the stream, defiantly blocking Salazar and his men. Katherine ran to the edge of the bank and stood watching, her heart frozen with fear.

  “Let’s talk about gold, Señor Salazar,” Justis said pleasantly. “I could make you the richest man in the Californias.”

  “Diplomatic negotiation, Señor Gallatin? That has never been your way.”

  “I’m older and wiser.”

  “And desperate. I do not care about your gold.”

  “But it’s my wife’s gold, too, and she’s anxious to have the rest of it. If you want her to stay with you and be happy, you need the gold.”

  “She will be happy without it.”

  “Hellfire, Mex, you don’t know her the way I do. She’ll make your life pure living misery if you don’t give her what she wants.”

  Salazar laughed coldly. “You do not know how to tame a woman the way I do.”

  “You won’t ever tame her. Not without the gold.”

  From the distance came gunshots. Salazar’s men spurred their horses into alertness. Katherine saw a group of riders coming up the valley from the south. Help from Adela.

  “Your sister-in-law knows what you’re up to,” Justis told Salazar. “One of her men went to tell her. Back away, you sick sonuvabitch! You’ve lost your chance!”

  Salazar’s face contorted with surprise, then rage. “I will not be humiliated by lies!”

  “It’s too late to act innocent. Adela knows the truth. This is the end of your scheme.”r />
  “No. This is the end of you, Señor.”

  Katherine screamed as Vittorio pointed a pistol and fired. Justis fell sideways from the mare, which bolted away. Katherine leapt into the stream and stumbled as her feet hit slick rocks. Falling to her knees, she struggled to get up. The rumble and splash of Adela’s horsemen racing to the scene was a bitter sound. Too late.

  Justis crouched in the knee-deep water, one hand clutched to his stomach, the other bracing himself weakly. Vittorio jumped down from his horse, another pistol in his hand, the hand already lifting toward Justis’s head.

  Katherine vaulted to her feet and jerked her knife free. “Vittorio!” she screamed. He kept advancing on Justis, his murderous concentration locked on one goal, his thumb pulling the pistol’s hammer back. Katherine threw the knife with all her strength. It sank to the hilt in Vittorio’s stomach.

  Chaos surrounded them—Adela’s men closing in, Vittorio’s men milling their horses in confusion. Vittorio swung toward her, his mouth open in agony, his free hand quivering near the knife handle. He staggered forward. “You … are … cruel. No lady … is cruel.” Lifting the pistol, he pointed it at her chest and fired as he fell.

  Katherine reeled from the force of his body striking hers. They went down in the stream with him on top. Pinned beneath him, she choked as water filled her mouth and nose. Was his weight squeezing the life from her chest, or was she dying from her wound? What did it matter if Justis had been fatally shot also? As blackness stole over her, she prayed that she would find him on the other side of it.

  “Katie!”

  Hands dragged her upright and shoved Salazar’s body away. She slumped into strong, familiar arms. Gasping for breath, she threw her head back to gaze up in wonder. She cried out happily as Justis pulled her close to his chest. “Are you alive?” she asked, clutching his shoulders.

  “I hope so,” he said.

  She pushed him back a few inches and looked at him. The stream rushed around his waist, lapping at the bloodstain on the side of his shirt. “Oh, God, you were shot.”

  He shushed her and grasped her hands when she tried to examine him. “Just snipped. Enough to give me another scar for my collection.” He ran his own hands over the front of her bloody dress.