The Wildest Heart

by Rosemary Rogers

  “How logical you make it all sound,” he said bitterly. “And yet, in spite of all your logic, I think you’re only avoiding the issue. I’m no green boy, you know, and I’ve had my share of affairs of the heart. Do you think I don’t realize the real thing when I’ve found it? I’ve already told you that you were different from any woman I’ve ever met before. What did you think I meant?”

  I think he noticed the growing dismay on my face, for his voice softened. “Don’t look so upset! I wouldn’t worry you for the world, nor do anything to spoil our relationship. I love you, Rowena. But I promise not to pester you with my declarations of love again unless you indicate to me that they may be welcome. And in the meantime, please remember that if you ever need anything, you have only to tell me.”

  “Thank you,” I managed. But what on earth could I say more than that? I almost wished that I could have cared more for Mark. And yet, the very next day, I was angry with him.

  He rode over in the morning, looking rather sheepish, to inform me that I had been invited to dinner at the big house—the palacio, as Marta had described it.

  “Oh, so he’s decided to acknowledge my existence, has he? Naturally I refuse!”

  “Rowena, please. You and Uncle Todd can’t just go on avoiding each other. I assure you that he’s promised to be on his best behavior tonight. I wish you would agree to come, even if it’s only to show my uncle that he hasn’t frightened you with his exhibition of rudeness!”

  I looked at Mark narrowly, but his face was bland, faintly smiling. Perhaps he, too, was cleverer than I thought! Certainly it seemed as if he were deliberately teasing me into accepting this sudden dinner invitation.

  “Your uncle’s probably up to something,” I said bluntly.

  “No doubt he is! But you might as well find out now as later, don’t you think? I know Uncle Todd. Once his bluff is called he’ll settle down, you’ll see. I wish you’d come, Rowena. If you’ll forgive my saying so, it’s high time you learned more about your responsibilities as half owner of the SD.”

  His voice had become stern, almost brotherly. So he had got over his passion for me so quickly, had he? Still, Mark did have a point. I couldn’t go on this way forever.

  I sighed resignedly. “Very well, Mark. I’ll come. But only if you promise to escort me there, and to bring me home whenever I want to leave.”

  I was suddenly intrigued. So Todd Shannon thought to summon me to the royal presence, did he? After a suitable period of ignoring me, of course. We’d see who came out the victor in this encounter!

  It took me several hours, and Marta’s help, to prepare myself. And then, as I looked at myself in the mirror and heard Marta’s admiring gasp, I couldn’t help smiling wickedly back at my reflection.

  Thanks to the estimable Mr. Worth in Paris and Cartier in New York, I certainly looked the part of an English duchess this evening.

  The gown I had chosen to wear was a deep, midnight blue velvet, cut low in front, with tiny strips of crisscross material to hold it up on my shoulders. Generous folds of the rich material were swathed tightly around my hips, ending in a fashionable bustle behind. I wore silver gloves that came just above my elbows, and silver kid shoes with tiny diamanté buttons.

  And my jewels, of course, were diamonds. I had never forgotten what Sir Edgar had told me that night.

  Marta, her hands clasped together, eyes wide, muttered in excitable Spanish that I looked like a princesa with the diamond stars in my elaborately coiffured hair. But I must be sure to wear a cloak, to protect my gown and cover my hair. She crossed herself as she murmured something about bandits.

  “Nonsense! This is the American side of the border. And Señor Mark will be coming for me, no doubt with an escort of cowboys.”

  But I suddenly realized that I was seldom allowed to ride far from the house without an armed escort. Even Mark carried a handgun, and when I had teased him about it, he’d shrugged and told me that his uncle insisted upon it. And yet, I had never seen any of the Apache Indians they all seemed so afraid of, nor any strangers who might be outlaws.

  “It will be dark when you return,” Marta said ominously, as she brought me my long, sable-trimmed evening cloak. Standing back to inspect me after I had obligingly put it on, she suddenly broke into smiles again and shrugged philosophically. “The señorita is very beautiful. No doubt the señor will think so too. And they would not harm our patron’s daughter. He was a man who was much loved, your father.”

  “They?” I turned from the mirror to look at her questioningly. “Surely, Marta, you don’t really believe that any member of the Kordes family would dare show their faces on SD land?”

  Her lips tightened. “They say that this land should be theirs. Your father knew this and he would have helped them regain it if he could. When the señor Lucas used to live here, they would talk of it for many hours. And once, not long before your father died, he came back here with his brother Ramon. It was at night of course, very late.”

  “Marta!” My eyes widened in shocked amazement. “But you’ve never talked about this before. You’ve never even mentioned…”

  “The señorita did not ask me. I told myself, perhaps the señorita already knows of all this, or perhaps she will not want to know unpleasant things that have happened in the past.”

  My brows drew together as I stared at her.

  “But I did want to find out all I could. I asked you questions—”

  “Only about your padre, señorita! Why should I speak of other things? Jules told me I was not to become a gossipy old woman. ‘The books that the patron used to write in will tell her everything,’ he told me. ‘She will understand matters without your interference, woman.’”

  Her lips trembled slightly, as if she was sorry for having spoken at all and I spoke more gently.

  “Oh Marta, I’m not angry with you! Of course I’m not But all this time… why did you speak out today?”

  She looked around the room almost furtively, although we were alone, and lowered her voice.

  “It was because… oh, señorita, you promise you will not tell anyone? And especially not the patron Shannon, for this kind of rumor always puts him in a terrible rage. But I’ve heard—that is, when Jules went to Santa Rita for supplies yesterday he swears that he saw the señor Lucas. He was different, he said, he looked much older and wore a beard, but Jules knew him, and he saw that Jules had recognized him.”

  “Do you think, because he was recognized, that he’ll try to do you or Jules some harm?” I asked sharply, but she shook her head.

  “Oh no, no, señorita! He would not harm us. It is the fact that he is here. We asked ourselves, why does he take such risks? The señor Shannon, he has put a price on Lucas Cord’s head. Dead or alive. It made your father very angry indeed, and he would have done something about it, I think, if he had not been so ill, so weak.”

  “Well, why do you think that this Luke Cord has suddenly decided to risk his neck?” I gave her a long, level look. “Marta, you’ve gone too far to stop now. I must know, don’t you see? What do you think is the reason for his sudden reappearance?” My voice hardened. “Did you think he might attempt to rob me tonight? Is that why you warned me?”

  “No. Please, señorita! It is not that. He would not hurt you because you are the daughter of Guy Dangerfield. But if they think that the señor Shannon has won you to his viewpoint, that you and he—”

  Her words trailed off miserably, and she avoided my eyes, so I went to her, touching her shrinking shoulder.

  “You saw what happened that afternoon?”

  She nodded, wordless, unhappy.

  “But then you saw too that I sent him away! I hate that man! But he is my partner, and we must come to some kind of understanding, don’t you see that? And as for other people, I owe them no explanations! I intend to draw my own conclusions, and make my own decisions, Marta, and Mr. Shannon is not the only person who must understand this!”

  I was angry, and puzzled too. Ha
d Marta been trying to warn me of something? But what? I could get nothing more out of her, for she grew visibly upset when I pressed her. In the end, I decided that I would speak with her later, when she was calmer and I had more time. I would tell Todd Shannon nothing, of course, but I would find out why Luke Cord had so suddenly decided to show his face in the area again.

  I was to get my wish sooner than I had expected. But in the meantime, Mark arrived, and I had time only to reassure Marta in a whisper that I would not mention our conversation to a soul.

  Mark had also dressed for the occasion. He was elegantly attired in well-tailored evening clothes, a pearl stickpin in his gray silk cravat. He looked rather embarrassed when Jules showed him in.

  “I guess I forgot to tell you it’s to be a dress-up affair! My uncle didn’t mention it until after I’d got back! If you’d like to change…”

  “Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary,” I said sweetly. “I hate changing once I’m dressed, and I’m sure the gown I’m wearing will do, even if it isn’t exactly new.”

  I was more certain than ever that Todd Shannon was planning to spring some kind of surprise on me. An unpleasant one, no doubt! And maybe Mark was in on it, and maybe he wasn’t. I made sure that I stayed muffled in my cloak, even when he helped me into the light traveling carriage that his uncle had thoughtfully provided.

  “Do you always dress for dinner?”

  “Almost always, I’m afraid! But don’t worry. I’m sure he’s only trying to impress you with the style he lives in.”

  “How strange! Todd Shannon hardly strikes me as the kind of man who would pay much attention to elegant living!”

  I thought I saw Mark hide a smile at my barbed tones, but then he apologized for having to leave me alone inside the carriage while he took the reins.

  “Uncle Todd had this made to his order in London,” he said proudly. “And the horses are matched high-steppers. I’m afraid he doesn’t trust too many people to drive them, so the responsibility is mine tonight.”

  “How flattered you must be!”

  Sitting bolt upright in the carriage so that I would not crush my gown too badly, I could not help but admire the way Mark drove. Through the windows I could see our inevitable escort of mounted SD men, some of them carrying rifles. Was this a normal precaution, or did Shannon actually anticipate trouble? I thought of Luke Cord again and frowned. Why had he visited my father again after so many years? What had he been doing in Santa Rita? Something was wrong, and I couldn’t put a finger on it. Even Mark’s manner had seemed rather stilted ever since our awkward conversation the other night.

  But I resolved to put it all out of my mind. Tomorrow I would go back to reading my father’s journals again and, as Marta had reproachfully reminded me, they would make everything clear to me.

  The drive took much longer than I had expected, and in spite of Mark’s expert handling of the team I was beginning to feel stiff and uncomfortable from sitting erect. Still, under a half-moon that rode high in the deep blue night sky, the scenery looked changed. Even the huge clumps of cactus that we passed seemed like trees in an enchanted forest, and the dusty ground seemed to shimmer.

  It really is beautiful, I found myself thinking. Infinite, undulating plains, coming up suddenly against the wall of the mountains that made up most of this territory. A country of contrasts. Cattle ranches and mining towns. Snow and desert. And to the south, the same mountain ranges I could see in the distance extended all the way into Mexico. I thought suddenly of the hidden valley where the Kordes family had a small ranch. How could a whole valley remain hidden? But then, I didn’t know these mountains as the Apache Indians who had lived there for generations did.

  I thought of something I had said to Mark. “They were the groundbreakers, but we will be the builders.” What had made me say that? Did I really believe it?

  The moonlit plains fell behind us, and suddenly I saw the lights that loomed up ahead. Outbuildings, a windmill tower, bunkhouses, even the unmistakable outlines of a smokehouse. Horses milled around in an enormous coral, and further back were the stables.

  And then the carriage slowed down and we were passing through an archway, with a huge, weathered sign over it, and down a long driveway. I had no opportunity to notice much more because the outline of a huge, imposing house, every window lighted, stood boldly against the backdrop of the starlit sky. No wonder they called it the palacio. It was bigger than any house I had seen in this part of the world. I recognized the Spanish-style architecture so common in the Southwest, but this house could not have been built of adobe. At least two stories high, it looked more like a small castle.

  The carriage pulled up, and two men came forward to hold the horses, while Mark jumped down off the seat to help me out.

  “Well, Rowena, what do you think? It’s built from stone quarried in the mountains and hauled down here in wagons. Wait until you see what it’s like inside!”

  “I can well imagine,” I said dryly. “It looks like a small fortress!”

  His voice dropped. “Perhaps it was originally meant to be one. You know the story. After Uncle Todd lost his wife and son he made himself a promise that the next house he built would be strong enough to hold off the whole Apache nation. And this one is. It won’t burn down, either!”

  I had no chance to say more, for he was leading me up a shallow flight of steps, and Todd Shannon’s huge figure loomed up in the enormous hallway. Even here, I had an impression of opulence. An enormous chandelier hung overhead, and in the background I saw a carpeted staircase that branched off in two directions from a landing that looked like the musician’s gallery of an English mansion.

  What I had at first taken for a hallway was, in fact, a great reception room, with open, double doors leading off it on both sides.

  “So you came, did you?”

  “Did you hope I would not?”

  Todd Shannon laughed, taking my hand.

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the chance to get in the last word,” he said meaningfully, as if we had been alone. “Got unfinished business, ain’t we?”

  “I hardly think so,” I said coldly, and he laughed again, his eyes narrowing suggestively as they took in every detail of my appearance.

  “Mark! What in hell are you doin’ just standin’ there? Take her cloak. Rosa will put it away. Want the rest of my guests to meet my new partner.”

  “You didn’t tell me you had invited other guests, Uncle Todd!” Mark said sharply, feeling me stiffen as his hands touched my shoulders. “Rowena, you must believe…”

  “Hell, what are you fussing about? Wanted it to be a surprise party for Rowena here. Have all my friends meet her.”

  My cheeks burned with suppressed fury. So he’d hoped to show me up, had he? No doubt he’d hoped I’d turn up dressed like a Mexican peasant or a dowdy English spinster! And how dare he call me Rowena?

  “What a kind thought, Uncle Todd!”

  I caught his look and smiled even more sweetly up at him. “Oh, but you don’t mind if I call you that, do you? After all, you were my papa’s dearest friend!”

  I thought I heard him mutter under his breath, “You little hellcat!” And then the cloak slipped off my shoulders, and he caught his breath for an instant, before he threw back his head and laughed.

  “By God! So you were smart enough to outguess me! And since I’m an honest loser, I’ll say this much. You’re a lovely, lovely thing! Damned if I don’t get even madder at you when I think of the way you were dressed when you got off that coach!”

  “Uncle Todd, for heaven’s sake!” Mark whispered urgently.

  I stood there, still smiling, and he smiled too, but our eyes met and clashed. We understood each other.

  He took my hand, suddenly formal. “Well, come on in. Got lots of people who want to meet you.”

  Deliberately I offered Mark my other arm. “But Mark was kind enough to escort me. Mustn’t he come too?”

  Todd Shannon’s dangerou
s glance told me that I was trying him too far, but he led me forward without another word.

  We walked through enormous doors into a high-ceilinged room decorated with barbaric splendor. An enormous fireplace took up almost half of one wall, two highly polished, silver-engraved Henry rifles were crossed over the fireplace, and the walls were hung with paintings depicting various Western scenes and brightly patterned Indian blankets.

  I knew that Shannon watched my reactions. I lifted my eyes to his and whispered, “A robber-baron’s castle!” and felt his fingers tighten over my elbow.

  “You’ll find out,” he muttered, and then we were surrounded, it seemed, by people.

  I was introduced to the territorial governor, Mr. Wallace, a bearded man with a habit of blinking rather shortsightedly, to “neighboring” ranchers who had traveled over two hundred miles to get here. A cavalry colonel from Fort Selden, immaculately dressed, bent gallantly over my hand. I was introduced to a federal judge, a congressman from California, several rich mine owners with their opulently dressed wives. The men were more casually dressed than the women, who had attempted to outshine each other. Flo Jeffords, her shining blonde hair falling in long curls to her shoulders, was wearing a crimson silk dress that caught the light when she moved. Rubies sparkled on her ears and at her throat. I saw her eyes flick over me and widen slightly.

  “Well, my goodness, Lady Rowena, I wouldn’t have recognized you!”

  To my surprise, it was Todd Shannon who cut her off, his voice holding a casual kind of contempt that immediately made me feel sorry for her. “Flo, you go with Mark and see that everything’s ready for dinner. An’ have that lazy rascal Ben bring some wine up from the cellar. Rowena, you ever tasted our American whiskey? Or are you scared to drink anything stronger than wine?”

  “Is it more potent than Russian vodka?”