"Domingo," she said sternly, "you don't bargain with God."
His look of reproach would have shamed a saint.
"Senorita, would we do such a thing?"
"I don't know."
"We will not ask about horses," he promised finally, noting the stubborn look on her face. "But if He mentions them, we will listen!"
Kara giggled at the absurdity of the whole conversation. "That's fair enough."
"You will teach us?"
"If that's what you want."
"We want," Domingo stated firmly.
"All right." She gestured to the floor. "Gentlemen, have a seat."
❧
"You're getting as weird as Tillie," Dane informed himself as he passed the first two gates of the Caliente parking lot. He should have parked, bought a ticket and torn the place apart until he found her. Instead, he was driving around the parking lot looking for a kid. He found Alberto swinging on the chain-link fence by the next gate.
"Dane!" Alberto almost tumbled off in his excitement. He scrambled into the truck and pointed.
"That way. Hurry! Carina has been gone for a long time! Why did you take so long?"
Dane squelched the impulse to utter a few pointed words. He'd save them for the proper person. "Is she all right? Was she hurt?"
"In the earthquake," Alberto said. "But that was a long time ago. Today was more exciting."
"Tell me about it," Dane suggested, preparing for the worst.
Ten minutes later, as they were flying down the road, his face was dark with fury. He uttered a pithy phrase, then remained grimly silent.
"Look," Alberto pointed. "There's Benito!"
Dane slammed on the brakes, and the truck stopped in a cloud of dust.
"Arriba, Dane. Arriba!" Benito shouted, pointing up the steep road.
"Good boy," Dane said. "Get in, and let's go find her."
A few miles farther, Elena was waiting for them.
"Arriba!" she called, pointing up and to the right.
They pulled her into the truck and roared up the steep incline.
Carmen dropped from a tree limb as they approached. She, too, pointed up.
"I know," Dane said. "Arriba!"
Carmen nodded, saw that the front of the truck was full and scrambled into the back.
Farther on Oscar, then Maria, ran to the side of the road, pointed the way and joined Carmen in the back of the truck.
Dane took the last curve with more speed than caution and came to a flying stop less than a foot behind a green taxi.
"What the hell?" Then he shrugged. A taxi on a dirt road miles from anywhere was merely one more oddity in this crazy situation.
Two men turned to inspect the new arrivals. If he hadn't been ready to strangle Juanito, Dane might have been amused at the blend of apprehension and relief on his face. "Thank God!" the big man said.
Dane joined them at the side of the road. "Where is she?"
Juanito silently pointed down to the shack.
"How long has she been there?"
"An hour, more or less."
Dane's voice was deadly. "Then what the hell are you doing up here?"
Jaime looked at the large, murderous man and whistled silently.
"Softly, my friend." Juanito touched Dane's arm.
"They have not hurt her. Ruben watches from behind a bush. He tells us that all they do is talk."
"I don't give a damn what they're doing. I want her away from them."
Jaime turned to Dane. "Isn't that just what I have been telling the big one? We should run down the hill, shouting so we sound like many men, kick in the door and ..."
"...And what are they doing while we shout and kick?" Juanito asked in disgust. "Sticking knives into her?"
Dane looked inquiringly at Juanito. "'Who's he?" he asked, nodding at the bony man.
Juanito pointed silently at the taxi. "Jaime."
Dane closed his eyes. "I don't believe it. Of all the cab drivers in Tijuana, you get the one who wants to play cowboys and Indians!" He shifted impatiently.
"Let's get Ruben up here," he snapped.
Ruben arrived, panting from the climb. "I can see everything through the window," he reported. "But they are doing nothing. The men sit on the floor and talk to Carina."
"That's all?" Dane asked in disbelief.
Ruben nodded vigorously.
"How many windows are there?"
"Two. One across from the door and the one I've been watching through at the side."
"How many men?"
"Five."
Dane exchanged a look with Juanito. "Let's go. You take the side window and I'll get the door."
"What do you want me to do?" Ruben asked.
Dane hesitated, then looked at Juanito.
"He has done a man's job today," the big man said.
"Don't let them out of the back window," Dane told the boy.
"What about us?" The other children drew closer.
"You girls stay up here with Luis." At their disappointed mummur, he ordered briskly, "If the men get away from us, make sure they don't take the trucks."
"Can we throw rocks at them?" Maria asked.
"As many as you want," he said absently. "Benito, Oscar, you go with Ruben. When I give the signal, you make as much noise as you can."
"Wait a minute!" Jaime said to Juanito as they turned away. "What about me? Didn't I bring you here? Didn't I wait with you? Didn't I tell you how to save the senorita? Am I going to be left out now?"
They all turned to Dane.
He closed his eyes, a reluctant grin curving his lips.
Why was it that everything involving Kara turned into a three-ring circus? "No," he said, suddenly cheerful, "You can come along and kick the door down. That will be the signal," he said to the younger boys. "Until then, not a sound."
Five minutes later, they were in position. For the first time in hours Dane's stomach muscles relaxed.
As he passed the window, he had glimpsed Kara sitting cross-legged on the table. The men were sitting on the floor facing her. He had to admit that she didn't seem concerned.
"What's that funny noise?" Jaime whispered.
Dane shrugged. "Almost sounds like someone's got a stomach ache. You about ready?"
"Should I use my foot or my shoulder?" Jaime asked, suddenly realizing that knocking down a door might be more complicated than it looked in the movies.
Dane shrugged again. "You're the expert on doors."
"My shoulder," he said. "That way, I can get a running start."
A running start, he decided later, is undoubtedly helpful if a door is jammed or locked. But if the door in question is already ajar, it is unnecessary, if not excessive.
Kara's eyes rounded in pure astonishment as the rescue operation began. Yipping like a demented coyote, a tall, bony man burst through the door at a dead run, tripped over Pepe's crossed feet and catapulted through the window. Juanito stepped through the side window as a confused din broke out in back.
Dane filled the doorway.
Kara flew to Dane, threw her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. Her words were inadequate, but straight from the heart. "Oh, Dane, I've wanted you so much."
His embrace threatened to crack her ribs. "Kara, don't you ever do this to me again! I've been so damned scared."
She raised her eyes to meet his and almost stopped breathing at his dawning expression of fury.
His fierce gaze took in the bruises on her face. He set her on her feet and steadied her. "I'm going to murder the bastards," he said, releasing her and turning to her abductors.
Kara grabbed at his shirt. "Dane, wait a minute! They didn't hurt me." She caught his arm, trying to pull him back. Touching her cheek, she explained, "This happened in the earthquake."
"And I suppose you'll tell me next that they didn't kidnap you?" His breathing was still ragged with surging adrenaline.
"No, they did that," she admitted reluctantly. "But they had a
good reason."
"I can't wait to hear about it," he said in the taut voice of a man who wanted to lash out at someone.
Anyone.
Juanito apparently shared his feeling, Kara noted. And his frustration. He had advanced on the five brothers and, one by one, hauled them erect. He no sooner had one upright and turned to the next when the first one toppled back to the floor. They were now, all five of them, sitting again, drumming their heels on the floor.
"What the hell is the matter with them?" Dane asked blankly, diverted momentarily from his plans of mayhem.
Kara swallowed, trying to vanquish the laughter that was bubbling in her throat. "I think their feet fell asleep."
"From what?"
"Sitting,cross-legged. "
She had his full attention now. "And why were they doing that?" he asked in a gentle tone that should have warned her.
She cleared her throat. "Because I was teaching them to meditate, and that's the way I learned."
"Damn it, Kara, enough is enough!" Dane's voice was a full-scale roar, momentarily overriding the war cries of Benito and Oscar, and the moans of Jaime as he sat outside in the dirt, clutching his aching head. "I am going to ask you a simple and direct question and I want a simple and direct answer. Just why were you sitting on a table in an abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere teaching five bandits to meditate?"
That's simple? she wondered as she murmured, "Brothers."
"What?"
"They're brothers, not bandits."
"I don't give a damn if they're quintuplets; answer my question!"
"Well," she said cautiously, "it started with Uncle Walter's message."'
"Kara," he warned, "don't you dare start on one of your rambling stories. We're talking about bandits-brothers, whatever the hell they are."
"I know. I'll get there in just a minute. But if you're going to understand the whole thing, you have to know what led up to it, and it starts with Uncle Walter."
A spasm crossed Dane's face. He listened to her husky voice as she explained about her conversation with Tillie. Was he out of his mind? he wondered. He had rushed back from Rio because he didn't want another day to pass before he claimed her. He wanted her in his arms, in his bed, in his life. He needed her in ways that he had never needed another living soul. If his life was to have any meaning, it had to be shared with this sprite who, if given half a chance, could deprive him of his few remaining wits.
He drew her back into his arms, for the sheer pleasure of feeling her body melt against his, while he listened.
"But I knew you'd be worried if I came without you, so I got the wig to disguise myself."
"What wig?" he asked, fascinated despite himself.
"The black one," she repeated patiently. "So I'd look like everyone else down here. I'd show it to you, but the men behind me at the track knocked it off when they fought with the newspapers."
"These men, Kara," he said distinctly, pointing to the five who were slowly getting to their feet under Juanito's watchful eyes. "I want to hear about them."
"I'm getting to them," she assured him. "It was because of the earthquake. That's the only reason I went to the races. Otherwise the money I won at Del Mar would have lasted for a long time. But when the buildings collapsed ..."
"With you in one of them," he said grimly.
"Oh, yes." Now was definitely not the time to tell him that she had gotten out safely, then deliberately gone back in, mooning like a lovesick adolescent.
"Anyway, I told Juanito that we should get the money today so we could start rebuilding."
"And what did Juanito say?"
"That you wouldn't like it," she replied honestly.
He grunted. "Well, at least someone was using his head."
"But I convinced him we should go. Rebuilding is expensive, and that was the only way I knew to get it done."
"Damn it, Kara. Do you know how much money I have?"
"Well, not to the penny," she hedged. "But everyone knows that you're filthy rich."
"Didn't it ever occur to you to ask me for help?"
"Of course not," she said, horrified.
"Why the hell not? Everyone else does."
"But, Dane, the first time we met, you told me how you felt about that. You called me a patsy."
He could see that it still rankled.
"You said that your friends didn't ask for help and neither did you. You said that people had to quit leaning on others and take care of themselves. And maybe you're right about some people. But not where the children are concerned," she said definitely. Her expression was earnest. "But you do see why I couldn't come to you, don't you?"
He nodded grimly. Yes, he understood. This exasperating love of his didn't realize that she was the one exception to the rule, to every rule. That she was the one person he would willingly pauper himself for.
"Anyway," Kara said, conscientiously returning to her narrative, "everything would have been fine if my wig hadn't flown away. Domingo saw my hair, and the next thing I knew, I was being escorted to the parking lot."
"Alberto told me what happened there. I want to know about what went on here."
"Darling, you should have seen the kids! They were so wonderful. And Ruben! Something has to be done for that boy, Dane. With his talent, he could become a world-class car thief, or a mechanical genius. What's the matter?" she asked, aware that he had been trying to stop her flow of words for some time.
His voice tense, he asked, "What did you call me?"
Kara felt as if she were drowning in his shimmering green eyes. "Darling?" she repeated faintly.
He drew her closer, and neither of them heard Juanito's softly voiced words to the terrified brothers.
Neither of them noticed the boys racing through the door, or that a moaning Jaime had poked his aching head back through the window.
"Kara, my love, will you answer a simple question?" He lifted her off her feet in an embrace that once again threatened her ribs.
"I haven't finished answering the first one yet," she whispered, brushing her lips across his cheek where his dimple would be if only he smiled more often.
He looked down at her. "Do you love me?"
"Of course I do!"
He almost dropped her. "Then why didn't you ever tell me?"
"You never asked me."
He looked astounded. "I didn't? Are you sure?"
"Positive," she said firmly. "From the day we met, you've been too busy telling me things to ask me anything. You've given me orders about the locks on my doors, orders about trips I will or will not take, orders about betting at the track, but never have you asked me anything of any importance."
She wiggled until her feet touched the ground.
"Can we get question one out of the way, so we can concentrate on number two?"
He released her with obvious reluctance. "Where were we?" he asked in a distracted voice.
"I was coming into the shack with the brothers."
"Bandits," he muttered.
"Who's telling this story?" she demanded.
"I'm beginning to wonder if anyone is," he said with mounting impatience.
"First of all, and most important, they didn't hurt me. They've been perfect gentlemen."
"Except for abducting you," he said with justifiable sarcasm.
"Well," she admitted, "they did do that. But they had a reason."
"Do I get to hear about it?"
"Well, of course," she said in amazement. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. But you keep interrupting and bringing in all sorts of irrelevant matters."
She watched in fascination as a red flush mounted under his dark tan.
"Kara," he spoke with commendable restraint, "you have exactly one minute to tell me about the bandits."
"Thirty seconds will do it." She ignored his irritated snort. "But first, let's agree on what to call them. They're not bandits. They are five brothers. Brothers," she said slowly, easing into it, "who happen to be constru
ction workers, but who are temporarily out of work.
"Brothers," she said in a rush, "who I am hiring to rebuild the dormitories."
She took a deep breath and held it, waiting for the explosion.
Chapter 11
It wasn't long in coming.
"Like hell you will!" he shouted over the noise of five voluble brothers, three whooping boys and one groaning cab driver. "I've put up with your aunt, your uncle, your antics at the racetrack and your bull-headed resistance to advice, but I'll be damned if I'll watch you hire a bunch of two-bit hoods to work at the orphanage. Think of the kids, for God's sake!"
"I am thinking of them." She did a swift sum in her head. "Forty-two of them."
Surprise rendered him silent for a moment. "I wasn't even gone for two weeks," he said in wonder.
"How did they manage to get ..."
"Juanito and Carmella just have fifteen," she clarified. "They ..." she pointed to the brothers " ... have twenty-seven."
"Does everyone this side of the border have an orphanage?" he asked bitterly.
"That's their family." At his disbelieving look, she nodded. "That's right. Each one has a wife, and between them they have twenty-seven children."
She turned the full blast of her beseeching eyes on him. "And they're hungry. Can you imagine what it's like to wake up in the morning knowing that you have no food for your children? No, I don't suppose you can," she added, answering her own question.
He couldn't bear to see the pensive look in her eyes.
He had told her to face facts, to be realistic, but he hadn't known that reality would be so shattering. He hadn't known it would hurt so much when she realized that the line had to be drawn somewhere. That she couldn't make the world a safer, better place for everyone. He felt as if he had just taken deliberate aim and shot Tinkerbell.
"That's why they brought me here," she said, looking over his shoulder at a distant, sad place.
"They thought that I could share some marvelous secret about the way I pick my horses. The winnings would tide them over until they found work again. And you know what? Suddenly I knew you were right. I had no secret of success to share, and I couldn't start taking them to the races, too."
She blinked and slowly focused on him. "I told them that I didn't know how to help them. I explained how the whole thing had happened to me, and somehow they latched on to the idea of meditation. When I said that I didn't think it had anything to do with the horses, they told me that they had no other hope."
Lady Moonlight Page 13
