Hidden Fires

by Sandra Brown

“Lookey here, Juney,” he whistled. “Did you ever see any tits purtier than these? Soon’s I’m done, you can play with ’em ifn’ you’ve a mind to.”

  Lauren hadn’t intended to do it, but she opened her mouth and a scream that originated in her deepest self propelled its way out of her throat and pierced the dim enclosure.

  June jumped involuntarily at the startling cry and Kurt used that split second to roll from under her and unsheathe his gun from its holster. He couldn’t imagine why Duncan and his sister had overlooked it. He pointed the Colt directly at the center of Duncan’s back and pulled the trigger. Lauren felt the thudding impact as the bullet entered Duncan’s body. If a bone hadn’t stopped it, it could have exited his body and entered hers.

  He fell heavily against her, a puzzled expression on his ugly face. Blood bubbled out of his mouth. Lauren screamed again, fighting frantically to push his weight from her. She managed to lift him enough for her to slide from beneath him, and almost fainted when she saw his blood soaking into her clothes.

  June stared transfixed at the body of her brother, emptying its blood onto the earth. She growled a savage sound as she attacked Kurt, who was still lying on the ground. They rolled together, punching wildly, thrashing arms and legs. June’s thighs flashed whitely in the lantern-lit cave as she struggled for possession of Kurt’s gun. Then another shot blasted through the cave. Lauren watched breathlessly as the two forms locked in combat lay still.

  Finally Kurt moved, extricating himself from June’s death grip on the front of his shirt. He slung her limp arms from his impatiently, pulling his legs from their entanglement with the dead girl’s. He practically crawled to the heap of supplies that Duncan had gathered for him. Finding another bottle of whiskey, he uncorked it and tilted it to his lips, watching Lauren all the while.

  He drank deeply, then lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Several bloody scratches ribboned down his cheeks. June had managed to inflict her own brand of pain before she had died at the hands of this ruthless man.

  Lauren was encapsulated in a mild stupor, viewing the atrocities happening before her apathetically. Her head was pounding with a cadence that was deafening to her ears and agonizing in its intensity. The walls of the cave were slowly tipping first one way and then another, and her eyes refused to focus on any one thing.

  “You goddam well better be worth it,” Kurt snarled at her as he stood above her. As she tried to focus her eyes, his form swayed in a sickening rhythm. He reached down to her and, with hands magnified to the size of hams by Lauren’s distorted vision, grabbed her shoulders and hauled her suddenly to her feet. She closed her eyes as pain shot through her head. Dizzily she tried to stand upright.

  “I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” grunted Kurt as he feasted his eyes on her. He seemed unaware that her eyes were glazed and, if not for his support, she would have collapsed. One of the large hands closed over a tender breast and squeezed her nipple roughly, while with the other hand, he worked feverishly with the fastenings of his pants.

  Lauren recoiled, and for the first time began to struggle against him. “That’s right, Lauren, fight me a little. I don’t want you completely docile.”

  She saw the swinging movement out of the corner of her eye just an instant before the rifle butt cracked into Kurt’s skull. His eyes rolled back into his head before he fell heavily to the ground. He dropped Lauren in his fall and she collapsed beside him.

  “Miz Lockett!? Is that you?” Crazy Jack Turner knelt down beside her cautiously. She focused on his hideous face, but never had anyone looked so beautiful to her. “What in hell is goin’ on here? Where’s your husband?” Lauren had a fleeting impulse to laugh. Of all things to ask at a time like this!

  “Mr. Turner,” she croaked. It was difficult to get her thick tongue to form any words. “Help me. Where are we?”

  “You’re in the back of my house, that’s where. I thought no one else on earth knew about the rear door to my cave, ’ceptin’ me. I heard the screamin’ and shootin’ and came through the tunnel to see what in hell the racket was all about.”

  He surveyed the bodies lying sprawled on the cave’s floor. “Whoever shot those two should be decorated,” he said without emotion.

  Lauren realized that this must be an alternate entrance to Crazy Jack’s house that jutted out of the rock wall above the river. The mutilated face gazed down at her with kindness in the eyes. He looked away, embarrassed, as she vainly tried to cover herself with the bloody remnants of her chemise. She tried to talk, but the words would not come. Her brain seemed incapable of forming a coherent thought. He sensed this and leaned over her. “Let’s get out of here before that—”

  He was interrupted when his breath was expelled in a great whoosh as Kurt’s booted foot caught him in the stomach. Crazy Jack fell backward and rolled to his side, reaching for the rifle he had set down on the ground as he knelt over Lauren. Kurt was quick to note the action, raised his pistol, and fired. Lauren’s scream was stifled by shock as Jack’s body jerked when the bullet struck it. She looked at the prone figure. He was bleeding from a hole in his chest. “Oh God,” she groaned. When does this nightmare end? she wondered.

  Kurt kicked the sole of Jack’s boot. “Godalmighty! Have you ever seen anything so ugly? I’d heard of this crazy old hermit, but thought he was only a legend that mothers used to scare naughty children. Surely, my dear, you don’t prefer his company to mine?” he questioned as he noticed her whimpering and edging away from him. “Come—”

  “If you touch her, you’re dead.” The words came out of the shadows on the other side of the cave near the entrance.

  Lauren knew Jared’s voice immediately. He had spoken, but she was as confused as Kurt, who whirled toward the voice and then stood stock-still, frightened and bewildered.

  Two figures stood side-by-side. Both had on the clothes of vaqueros, their hats pulled down low and dripping raindrops from the brims. Both had pulled their pistols from their holsters and the barrels glinted in the light of the lantern. Both guns were aimed with deadly accuracy on Kurt’s chest.

  But what was so startling was that the figures were mirror images of each other. Bandanas were pulled up over their noses. They were of the same size and build and, in the dim light of the cave, their hair appeared to be the same dark color. In the shadows cast on their faces by the faint light, their eye-color was indiscernible.

  Kurt’s heart pounded and rose to his throat as he stared at what seemed to be twin apparitions, a figment of drunkenness, when everything seen is doubled. Slowly sanity returned, and he knew he was facing Jared and his half-breed brother. But they looked so much alike he couldn’t tell which was which.

  “Move away from her slowly, or by God, I’ll kill you, Vandiver.” Even as Jared spoke, it was impossible to tell which figure the voice belonged to. It was so controlled that the bandana over his mouth didn’t move with the expulsion of his breath. “You’ve only got three shots left, unless you’ve used one we don’t know about, which makes your position even more precarious. We have twelve shots between us. No matter how you add it up, you die. Move away from Lauren.” There was steel in the level voice.

  Lauren was finding it hard enough to focus, and now she was seeing four Jareds instead of two. His voice sounded faraway and indistinct, but somewhere in the back of her mind, it registered that he was here. Regardless of what he had said in the past, or what he had done, he was here to save her from Kurt Vandiver. When Jared spoke her name, she reacted by jumping slightly, and this drew Kurt’s attention. With uncanny speed, he turned his gun onto the figure crouching at his feet.

  “You aren’t going to shoot anybody, Lockett, unless you want your bride to die. Even if you got me, I would kill her, too, before I died. No way I could miss. I suggest that you and that bastard brother of yours put down your guns and stop playing masquerade games.” He laughed as he saw them glance at each other out of the corner of their eyes. “Now!” he command
ed.

  Reluctantly the men let their pistols drop from their hands. Kurt moved with cautious steps closer to the brothers, but even at a distance of a few feet, he couldn’t make out which was which. He kicked the Colts dropped in front of their boots out of their reach, and stepped back hurriedly. He wanted to yank the bandanas from their faces, but he wasn’t quite that brave. The dangerous stance of their bodies and the fierce hatred glowing out of their eyes were identical.

  “Which one of you hombres is Jared?” Neither so much as blinked. “Which one is Jared?” Kurt’s suddenly soprano voice betrayed his frayed nerves. The two figures could have been statues. “Then I guess I’ll have to kill both of you. I can’t very well rape this woman with one of you breathing down my neck, can I? And I’m in a great hurry to do just that.” He paused, hoping that the threat would goad Lauren’s husband into revealing himself, but both remained motionless, knowing well his intention. They knew, too, that Thorn was waiting…

  Kurt Vandiver took advantage of having the mighty sons of Ben Lockett held at gunpoint. Since he was going to kill them, he might as well have some fun first. “I wonder if she’s as hot as that Mendez woman. Took quite a bitch to keep a stallion like Ben satisfied all those years. I think Duncan was planning on getting a piece of that himself, but Lauren came out of the house too soon. Was that slice across her throat as clean as he bragged it was?”

  A vile-tasting fluid filled Lauren’s mouth and she almost gagged. The two men appeared unaffected by Kurt’s taunts.

  “All right, then,” he said. “I gave you both a chance to stand up like men.” He took careful aim at one of them. Lauren held her breath. She thought that Kurt was only bluffing. He would never kill a Lockett for fear of the reprisals. He was basically a coward.

  Refuting her supposition, the pistol shot exploded in the room of the cave. She watched both men, her hands covering her mouth, trapping her scream and terror inside. For long moments, neither of them moved: then, as a dark stain began to spread on one’s shirtfront, he fell backward against the rock wall and slumped to the ground.

  Her husband or her brother-in-law had just been murdered. It was too much to grasp. Her head was pounding and the rock room was spinning, dancing crazily in front of her. It couldn’t be Jared over there bleeding, motionless and unconscious… dead.

  Something tapped against her knee and she flicked it away. She didn’t want to look, didn’t want anything to interrupt her grief, her disbelief, at what she had just witnessed. Finally she forced her eyes away from the inert body across the cave and looked down at the persistent nudging. It was the barrel of a rifle.

  Her befuddled mind couldn’t imagine how the weapon was moving of its own volition. Her eyes painfully focused and traveled down the length until she saw the gnarled hands of Jack Turner holding it by the butt, moving it just enough to poke against her knee and get her attention.

  Crazy Jack wasn’t dead! He looked at her through eyes glazed with pain, and tried to communicate a silent message to her. She glanced at Kurt’s bulky silhouette, his back to her, as he threw disparaging remarks at either Rudy or Jared, whichever it was who remained alive.

  Lauren knew what Jack wanted her to do. But she knew she couldn’t do it. Everything she had ever been taught, every principle she held, forbade the action Jack was urging her to take. Even if she had the physical strength and the mental capacity to do it, she knew she could not. It wasn’t right. Nothing justified it. Nothing.

  Jared? Her baby? At what point did wrong become right?

  Why didn’t this dark, moist, dreary room cut out of rock stop moving? Her head throbbed. She couldn’t swallow. Her stomach wasn’t going to hold what was in it much longer. Splattered blood was drying on her skin.

  Has my baby survived this? Yes, please, God, she prayed. And my husband? Is that him lying over there with his blood flowing onto the ground? No! Jared! she screamed, but made no sound. She was stunned, dazed, weak.

  Metal clicked on metal as Kurt cocked his pistol again.

  God, please don’t ask this of me, she begged. What if I miss Kurt and hit someone I love instead? I don’t know how to fire a gun. God, please, let there be another way.

  It was too late. Kurt was taking careful aim. Of their own volition, her hands reached out for the rifle. The dizziness and blurred vision vanished. With heightened clarity, she pointed the barrel at the broad back and pulled the trigger even as she heard the blast from Kurt’s pistol.

  The rifle butt slammed into her chest with unbelievable force. The echo of the rifle shot joined that of the pistol and bounced off the stone walls, filling the small, dank chamber with a deafening racket.

  Then there was another explosion. This one was in Lauren’s head. It was louder and more terrifying than the ones preceding it, and reverberated in her mind, blocking out conscious thought. Bright yellow flashes burst in her brain with the rhythm of heartbeats. Then all went black as she surrendered to blissful oblivion.

  Chapter 26

  Peace. Serenity. Silence. All welcome.

  Dreams.

  The Prathers’ parlor. Lauren was sitting at the piano playing, though no notes sounded. Her dress was lacy and white, startling in its brightness.

  Maria stood beside a smiling Ben. He was bigger than life and twice as robust as she had remembered. He glanced down at Maria and patted her arm fondly. Carson Wells was there, smiling at Lauren in his kind, sad way. What were these people doing in the Prathers’ parlor?

  She searched for another face, missing the notes she was trying to play. She tried vainly to spot a dark, lean face among the others. Whom was she looking for? She didn’t remember. She only knew that she wanted to see that face more than any other. It was important to her, but why? Why? The vision vanished into a nebulous whirl around her and she was alone again.

  Later, she was flying down a long corridor. There were pillars lining the sides of the hallway. Her hair was long, so long that if she flew between the pillars, it wound around them like a bolt of fine cloth. It trailed for miles behind her as she continued down the corridor, weaving in and out of the columns. At the end of the hall, she saw a figure dressed in a wedding gown. The face framed in the lace veil was like hers, but not hers. It was her mother.

  Mother! she cried silently. Mother, I’m coming. She drew closer and closer to the apparition and gazed at the beautiful face that was almost transparent and yet real. Eyes exactly like Lauren’s gazed back at her with apparent love, and she was suffused with joy. The lovely lips smiled and opened to speak. Though no sound came from them, Lauren understood what her mother was saying.

  “Lauren, I’m so proud of the woman you have become. I loved you when you were a baby. I would come into your room at night while you were sleeping and watch you, kiss you, and touch you, marveling at your delicacy and praying for a brilliant future for you. You were such a sweet child. You never caused me any trouble. I’m sorry I had to leave you. I wanted to stay and see you grow up, but I was in such pain, Lauren. Please understand why I had to go when I did.”

  “Mother, Mother, I loved you. Did I ever tell you that I did? Did I?”

  “Of course you did, darling. Over and over sometimes. I knew that you loved me.”

  “I wear your watch over my heart, Mother. Every day. And I look at the picture of you and Father on your wedding day.” She spoke rapidly, trying to cover years in moments. Even as she spoke, her mother began to move away from her, and she wanted to reach out and take hold of her and never let her go away again.

  “Mother, don’t leave me, please. I need you.”

  “No, Lauren, you have someone else to take care of you now. We’ll have time much later to talk. I’ll be waiting for you, but now I must go.” The image of the woman moved farther and farther away. She couldn’t let her go. She had waited so long to see her, talk to her.

  Her arms reached out for her mother, but something held them down. She struggled, but she couldn’t shake off the force that held her back. “
Mother!” she screamed as the beautiful lady vanished.

  Once she tried to open her eyes, but the pain prevented her. She could hear muffled voices, but she didn’t know what they were saying. It was so hard to concentrate.

  Someone held her hand in both of his. Cool lips brushed her forehead lightly. A thumb caressed her palm. None of this was unpleasant, but she didn’t want to cope with it yet. She slipped back into the region of dreams.

  But the dreams were no longer pleasant. She recognized and knew Jared immediately, though he was strange and transformed. He stood in a blinding light, his whole body looking golden, shiny. He was naked except for sandals whose leather thongs wound around his muscular calves up to his knees. He carried a sword and a small, round shield. He looked like a Spartan warrior. His face was chiseled, hard. His sex stood erect and was the only part of him that was pulsing with life. He stood motionless. She approached him timidly, almost frightened by his stern countenance.

  He was so handsome. She reached out to touch him, then recoiled in horror. He wasn’t real, not human. He was made of stone, a beautiful carving reflecting the bright light around him.

  Behind her came a ghastly laugh that made the hair on her neck rise and crawl. She turned and saw Olivia, her hair radiating from her head like Medusa’s snakes. Her face was ugly and cruel. Lauren screamed, but Olivia only laughed harder, opening her mouth wide.

  Lauren screamed again and again, thrashing her arms in an effort to escape those that reached for her. She turned her head wildly from side to side, trying not to look at the beast that stood before her.

  Then, again, black oblivion.

  * * *

  The climb up was hard, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. There, on the other side of the door, was the life she had left on the floor of the cave. She remembered it all now. She had only to open the door, and she would have to face all that she wished to forget. It wasn’t possible. She wasn’t strong enough yet. But she had to come back sometime. Now. She opened the door.