The Spanish Outlaw

by Higgins, Marie

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest as he shook his head. “For now, I only require your company. Eventually, Antonio will come to rescue you...and I will allow it. But in the end, he will give me what I desire most.”

  If she ever needed investigator skills, it was right now. She had to get out of this—or talk Juanito into letting her go.

  She glared. “I take it you don’t know the man I know. Anton doesn’t care about me. He will go about his business now that I am out of the way.”

  He arched a brow. “Indeed? Then why did he risk his own life to save yours on several occasions?”

  “Where have you learned this, may I ask? Because you have been given false information.”

  “Oh, I think not, my dear. I am well informed in matters that are important to me.”

  Inwardly, she cursed. How could she sway him? Obviously, she couldn’t. But she couldn’t give up, either.

  She let out a heavy sigh. “Believe what you want, then. I just thought to let you know your effort in kidnapping me was a waste.”

  Chuckling, he stood and walked closer to her. She withdrew as much as she could into the mattress, but it would not hide her from his touch. When he stroked her cheek, bile rose to her throat.

  “Ah, Señorita. The things I do are not a waste of time, just as I trust the men in my employ. It might come as a shock to you, but Anton’s manservant, Pedro, was not whom he appeared to be.”

  She gasped, her chest clenching.

  “That is correct, my dear. This is how I know Antonio’s feelings. Even if he does not come for you, I will make use out of you one way or another.” His gaze slid down her neck to her bosom.

  “Over my dead body.” She jerked away from his evil touch and glared at him, her heart breaking with the startling news. Pedro? A traitor?

  “No, my dear woman. I will kill you after I tire of you.” He grinned. “For now I will enjoy your company and the attributes the good Lord has given to you. I enjoy toying with women before I please them.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m quite certain you’ll be a great disappointment.”

  His gaze narrowed, and his hand balled into a fist. He raised it to hit her, and she cringed, but he never followed through with the threat.

  “I will get that ring one way or another. Before the month is over, I will be rightful heir to Padre Island. Mark my words, Señorita.”

  He stormed out the room, slamming the door behind him. Tears stung her eyes, and she buried her head in the dirty mattress. Silently she prayed Anton would come for her, but as each minute turned into hours, her hope deflated.

  Lying on her back, she stared at the shadowed ceiling as the waves slapped against the side of the ship. Tears didn’t come any longer, and probably wouldn’t for a while. Her heart still ached from Pedro’s deceit, and for the pain Anton would experience when he discovered the horrid news.

  Soft footsteps stopped at the door. The knob turned and the door cracked open. A head peeked in and out quickly. Then came back—as did the rest of the body. Her heart leapt to life. Even in the shadows, she could see it was Anton.

  “Anton,” she cried out as she struggled to sit up.

  After closing the door, he rushed to her and took her in his arms.

  “I...I can’t believe...you’re actually here,” she sobbed.

  “Shhh, my love,” he whispered. “I do not know how or why, but thankfully, nobody knows I am here.” He fumbled with the ropes at her wrists.

  “Anton, your uncle expects you will come. He might even know you’re here.”

  “Then we must leave quickly.”

  When the ropes came free, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you for coming.”

  He smiled. “I love you, Vivian. My life will not be complete unless you are in it.”

  Tears came to her eyes, and she nodded, too choked up to say anything.

  He released her to untie her feet, and then he pulled her off the bed. “We must hurry. I know you do not like the water, but that is our only way of escaping. We will have to swim to shore.”

  She sniffed. “I’ll do it because you’re with me.”

  At the door, he stopped. Pulling it open slowly, he poked his head out just as he’d done before he entered. He looked back at her and nodded. “I think we can go.”

  Taking soft steps, she followed Anton, keeping her hand in his. They made it halfway down the hall before loud footsteps pounded on the floor, growing louder by the second. Anton mumbled something under his breath, then pulled her back into the storage room she’d been held prisoner in and closed the door softly.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  He glanced around the room before his gaze rested on her. He cupped her face in his large hands. “My love, we must stay here a bit longer. Go lie on the bed and I will hide behind one of the barrels.”

  The footsteps grew louder, the beat of her heart hammered in a faster rhythm. She nodded and hurried to the bed, gathering the ropes to hide them before curling in the same position Juanito had left her.

  Anton blew her a kiss before he ducked behind a barrel. She breathed slower, trying to steady her breath. She couldn’t let their unknown visitor know something was amiss...unless Juanito already knew Anton was here.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Anton kept himself still as he peeked between two barrels. Panic surged through him, and he tried to regulate his quick breathing.

  His fearsome uncle entered, his large frame filling the doorway. Juantio’s gaze moved from Vivian and slowly scanned the room. Anton held his breath, silently praying his uncle would not see him.

  When Juanito shut the door and walked toward Vivian, Anton curled his fingers around the butt of his pistol. If Juanito laid one finger on her...

  “My pretty Señorita,” Juanito said as he neared her bed. “I must admit I am very disappointed in your lover. For reasons I cannot explain, he has not come to rescue you, and so you must sail with us to the island and wait for him there.”

  Vivian lifted her chin in defiance. “Did I not tell you he wouldn’t come?”

  Juanito chuckled and folded his arms across his middle. “Oh, my nephew will come, but we must sail as soon as possible, and so cannot wait for him to arrive.”

  She shook her head. “It’s a wasted effort, I tell you. The island means more to him than I do.”

  He pulled the chair away from the small table, closer to her bed and sat. Leaning forward, he linked his fingers across his knees. “I would have thought that, as well, but Pedro has been telling me very interesting facts about the nephew I never really knew. It is hard to believe he has a weakness for a certain little Señorita.”

  “I still don’t understand,” she said. “Why can you and Anton not work out a bargain so you both can share the island?”

  He shook his head. “That will not work. You see, the island has secrets even Antonio does not know about.”

  Anton narrowed his eyes and strained to hear his uncle’s every word. Secrets? Very interesting.

  “Indeed?” Vivian tilted her head. “And what might those secrets be?”

  Juanito’s smile widened. “In the mid fifteen hundreds, a ship wrecked just off the island. The ship carried a treasure that was buried somewhere on the land. Many years later, gold pieces were found on the shoreline, which led the people to believe the rest of the gold may be nearby. But nobody has been able to find the Spanish treasure.”

  “So tell me, Señor Ballí, what makes you think you can find it now?”

  He leaned back in his chair and stroked his goatee. “The map to the Spanish treasure is on the ring.”

  Anton’s lips twitched into a grin. An old wives’ tale. His padre used to tell him that story many times at night. Nobody believed it. Not anymore. Yet somehow Juanito believed in it and was desperate to find his treasure.

  The fool. And to think he would kill for this.

  Vivian chuckled as she squirmed on the bed, keeping her hands behind her
back and feet underneath her. With any luck, Juanito wouldn’t notice she was untied.

  “Señor Ballí, you are very humorous. There’s no way that map can be on that ring. I have seen the ring, and there’s no place for a map.”

  Juanito arched an eyebrow. “Have you inspected it closely with a spyglass? I assure you, the map is there. Do you think I would go through all this for nothing?”

  Anton had to admit his uncle would not do all of this without a reason. Perhaps Juanito knew something he didn’t.

  “So are we sailing now?” she asked.

  “Sí. I gave my crew the orders before coming to see you.”

  “And now we wait?”

  He laughed. “We wait, but we shall entertain ourselves during this time.” He scooted closer to Vivian. “And you can be assured I will pleasure you beyond your imagination.”

  Vivian fell back into the mattress, her eyes wide with fright. When Juanito took a lock of her hair, she whimpered. Anger consumed Anton and he tightened his hand around the pistol. Dios be with me.

  Swift and sure of his movements, Anton darted around the barrels without making any noise. Vivian’s sobs rose higher, which ignited his temper. Juanito had his back toward him, and Anton raised the butt of the gun as he neared, focusing on his uncle’s dark head.

  Juanito’s large hands cupped Vivian’s head. “You, my dearest, will be mine. I will erase Antonio from your memory.”

  She glanced over his uncle’s shoulder and met Anton’s gaze. Suddenly, her expression hardened, and she yanked her arms from behind her and pushed them against Juanito’s chest. He gave a sharp inhale mere seconds before Anton brought the pistol down against his skull.

  The older man jerked around and met Anton’s gaze. Confusion and pain marked his creased forehead as he stood and stumbled toward him. Juanito blinked then steadied himself. He touched the blood oozing down the back of his head and looked at his stained fingers. He snickered.

  Vivian scrambled off the bed and dashed around Anton, clutching his shirt as she stood behind him. He kept his aim on Juanito who was still laughing.

  “My wayward nephew finally makes an appearance. And to think I had given up hope of your chivalry.”

  “If I have to kill you in cold blood, I will,” Anton sneered. “I will not let you harm another person as long as I live.”

  Juanito stumbled a few steps backward before regaining his stance. “Ah...famous last words, Antonio? You should know me better than that, dear boy.”

  Anton glared at him. “I am not the boy you remember, but a man who has vowed to stop you—no matter what it takes.”

  “You underestimate me.”

  “And you underestimate me.” Anton squared his shoulders and stepped closer to his uncle. “I swear on the grave of mi padre, I will kill you. I will not let people on my island live in fear any longer. I will not let you have control over my island.”

  “You cannot win.” Juanito touched his fingers to his head again as more blood poured from his wound. “I have men out there who I have trained to fill my shoes.”

  “They are lacking one thing, dear uncle. They are not the rightful heirs. Only I can hand over that privilege, and that is something I will not do.”

  Juanito’s expression hardened, his lips curling in a sneer. “You have crossed paths with the wrong person.” Suddenly, he jumped at Anton and knocked the pistol from his hands.

  Anton fell to the floor, his uncle landing on top of him. Strong fingers wrapped around his throat and threatened to choke him. Pain shot through Anton’s head from the sudden lack of air. He pulled at his uncle’s fingers while kicking his legs. The older man was stronger than he appeared, and for a moment, Anton panicked.

  His lungs burned, his head throbbed, but he continued to fight. Using all of his strength, he rolled them both over until he lay on top. Anton fisted his hand and slammed it into his uncle’s face, which broke the hold Juanito had on his throat.

  In one swift movement, Juanito reached into his boot and pulled out a knife. The blade swung very close to Anton’s neck, and he grabbed the weapon to hold it away.

  Vivian screamed and crawled across the floor.

  “Vivian...the pistol,” Anton bit out.

  She scrambled to her feet, holding the loaded weapon as she aimed it to Juanito. “Stop, or I’ll shoot!”

  His uncle bared his teeth in an evil grin. “Not until I kill you first,” he growled at Anton.

  Juanito pushed the knife closer to Anton’s throat. His hands shook as he struggled to keep the blade from slicing his skin...or plunging into his flesh.

  Vivian pointed the pistol at Juanito’s head. Anton jerked back just as the weapon fired. The wind from the bullet whooshed through the air as it passed near his face and lodged into his uncle’s head. His uncle’s body jerked then stilled as his hands dropped to his side, knocking over the lantern. Breaking glass echoed in the room. As quick as lightning, fire spread on the floor and up the wall, heading toward the barrels of gunpowder.

  Anton swore and jumped to his feet. He grabbed Vivian’s hand and pulled her up. “We must leave. Now!”

  He pulled her out the door and up the hallway. Voices shouted on the deck and footsteps quickened. Anton’s heartbeat hammered quickly. They must not get caught.

  Without another thought, he dashed into the nearest room, remembering it had a window. “Vivian, we need to go out that window.”

  He met her wide, frightened eyes.

  “We will have to jump out the window into the water. I know you fear water, but we must do this. I will not let anything happen to you.”

  She nodded. “I trust you.”

  Using his elbow, he slammed it into the glass until it shattered. He slipped off his jacket and blanketed the edge of the window.

  “You go first. I will be right behind you.”

  Vivian’s body shook as he lifted her to the window and pushed her through. He crawled up and hefted himself out and plunged into the water. Vivian had surfaced already, but as soon as he grabbed her hand, he pulled her close.

  “Take a deep breath. The gunpowder is going to explode at any moment. We need to be under water. Do not let go of my hand.”

  She nodded and sucked in a big gulp of air along with him. He held her tight and took them under the water, diving as deep as he could go. Within seconds, the blast from the ship knocked into them, breaking their hands apart.

  Swinging his arms about, he searched for her, his chest burning with the lack of air. When he bumped into her, he grabbed her again and pushed them away from the explosion. He swam to the top, and when they surfaced, each breathed in a lungful of air.

  Vivian threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “Oh, Anton. I thought...I thought...”

  “I know.” He kissed the side of her head. “Nothing will ever tear us apart again.”

  He maneuvered them in the water to look at the burning ship. A great weight had been released from his chest, yet he mourned the loss of everyone who had suffered.

  “Do...do you think they all died?”

  “No. I am certain some lived.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and swam back to the shore. As he neared the sand, a body struggled to crawl on land, his body burned, his ragged clothes charred from the fire.

  Anton’s chest clenched. Pedro.

  Keeping Vivian’s hand in his, he moved to his friend, turning him over on the sand. Weak eyes laced with pain met Anton’s gaze, and when his amigo recognized him, tears filled Pedro’s eyes.

  “I—I did not want to,” Pedro rasped. “Juanito threatened to kill my family. Do you understand?”

  A tear slipped down Pedro’s face and tugged at Anton’s heart. A knot tightened in his throat as his own eyes misted over. “Sí, mi amigo.”

  “I am...sorry. I did not want to hurt you. I love you.”

  Anton gulped back a sob as a tear leaked from his eye. Emotion choked his throat and kept him from saying anything.
/>   “Anton...please forgive me?”

  Swallowing hard, Anton nodded and touched his friend’s hand. “I forgive you.”

  The corners of Pedro’s lips lifted as his eyes drifted shut. His chest stopped moving, and his body lay still.

  Vivian sobbed and clung to Anton’s arm. Tears slipped freely down his cheeks now as he mourned. He leaned over and kissed his friend’s forehead. No more would Pedro be in pain.

  * * * *

  Vivian snuggled next to Anton as they sat on the hillside and watched the burning ship sink into the water. Her limbs hurt from everything she had endured, but her heart ached more. Poor Pedro. Poor Anton. The Lord may look down on her for this, but happiness burst inside her that Juanito was dead. Pedro shouldn’t have had to choose between his best friend and his family. And Anton shouldn’t have had to choose between his island and her.

  She looked at Anton, whose gaze stayed on the ship. A frown marred his handsome face and lines creased his forehead. As she reached up and swiped the wet lock of hair away from his eyes, he met her gaze.

  “What are you thinking?”

  He managed a small smile. “I am very relieved this is all over.”

  “Me, too.” Her mother’s beaten face snapped Vivian out of her relief, and she clutched Anton’s hands. “My mother. We have to see if she is all right.”

  “She is.” He cupped her face and placed a brief kiss on her lips. “She was being cared for by the cook when I left to find you.”

  Relief surged through her again, and she smiled. “Thanks, Anton.”

  “I am happy to know you have forgiven her.”

  She nodded. “Me, too. I will have a mother again. I hope my brother, Matthew, feels the same.”

  “It will be a shock to him, I am certain, but if his heart is as loving as yours, he will forgive her, too.”

  She leaned up and kissed his lips.

  “So, what are you going to do now?” Anton asked.

  She pulled back and cocked her head. “You don’t know?”

  “No.”

  “I’m going to accompany you to your island, silly.”

  His smile widened. “You are?”

  “Of course.”