The Horseman

by Margaret Way

  “Ask them now!” Joel Moreland stared into the young man’s eyes, frowning a little in perplexity.

  “I don’t think so,” Raul said. “A bad shock can’t be underestimated. You need your rest.”

  “I am a bit shaky,” Joel admitted. “It was so eerie this afternoon. Time stood still. I’ve never got over the death of my son. I never will. Had anything happened to Cecile, indeed you, I seriously doubt I could have gone on.”

  “I understand that,” Raul said quietly. “One day perhaps you can talk to me about Jared’s death.” Starting with the truth, Raul looked into Joel Moreland’s remarkable eyes. “It might help.”

  Joel gave a sad, twisted smile and placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “My gut feeling is you’ll understand. Good night now, Raul. You sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “I’d do it again without hesitation,” Raul answered.

  For a long moment Joel Moreland’s eyes remained on the dynamic young man who stood before him. “Anything to protect Cecile, eh?”

  Raul’s strained-looking face broke into a smile. “Whatever it takes.”

  AN HOUR OR SO LATER, having said her thank-yous and goodnights, Cecile made her way into the house, her head aching and her nerves frayed. Dr. Nelson had given her something to take before bed, but the reality was she and Raul could have been very badly injured or killed today. For that matter, her beloved grandfather could have suffered a heart attack, his color had been so bad. Not that there was anything wrong with his heart to date, but one never knew. The incident had cast a pall on the evening. And then there was Stuart. And her mother. So many times over the past few hours she had seen them with their heads together. Would it ever stop? Stuart had belatedly arrived on the scene, claiming he had been making his way back to the house for something. He then proceeded to make a big display of loving relief and gratitude to Raul. He had been very solicitous ever since. He had even given her her own space for most of the evening, even though he’d stayed close.

  She hadn’t, however, reckoned on his following her back to the house.

  “Ceci!”

  She came to a halt in the entrance hall, waiting for him to reach her. She didn’t feel up to talking about anything now.

  “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Can it wait until morning, Stuart?” she asked quietly.

  Her plea and the paleness of her face did no good. “I promise it won’t take long.”

  “All right. Let’s go into the library,” she said, leading the way. There, she switched on the light, taking comfort from the familiar surroundings. It was a world of columns and dark gleaming timbers; bookcases filled with hundreds and hundreds of leather-bound books, a mahogany ladder to reach the top shelves; rich upholstery and rugs, several large canvases of hunting scenes, two Georgian library tables, piled with books, a desk and chair in one corner, two large globes, terrestrial and celestial on stands. She loved this room. It calmed her. It might calm Stuart.

  “Sit down, Stuart,” she invited, herself sinking into a wing-backed chair. “What is it that can’t keep?”

  Stuart pulled up his burgundy leather armchair so their knees were almost touching. “Us, Ceci,” he said. “I wasn’t really sure what was going on before I arrived, but I do now. You’re besotted with Montalvan.”

  Cecile dropped her head in her hands. “Oh, Stuart!” she breathed, thinking it was finally time to get this thing over with no matter how she felt.

  “Be honest with me now,” he said. “And don’t hang your head. Look at me, Ceci, if you don’t mind. What are you afraid of?”

  She pulled herself together at his faintly hectoring tone. “There are things in life to be afraid of, Stuart. However, I’m not afraid of you. I deeply regret that I must hurt you, but you have to know the truth. I have fallen in love with Raul Montalvan, Stuart. I never meant it to happen.”

  “You mean you let it happen,” he shot back accusingly. “Your mother’s been right all along. You’re not really what you appear to be.”

  Should she scream in frustration or burst into tears? She did neither. “Perhaps I’m not,” she agreed. “I suppose we don’t really know ourselves until someone who has the power to do so holds a mirror up to our real selves. I thought I loved you. But whatl called love then and what I call love now are two very different things. I’m sorry, Stuart.”

  “You mean love’s ugly twin, don’t you?” Stuarts voice had a contemptuous edge. “It’s all sex with this guy, isn’t it?” Stuart’s eyes brimmed with hatred.

  “I haven’t had sex with him, Stuart.”

  “Liar!” he said bitterly. “Your mother told me you had.”

  That shook her, but only momentarily. “Now that is a lie, Stuart. I’m certain my mother said no such thing.”

  “Indeed she didn’t,” Justine thundered from the open doorway. She sailed into the room in her glamorous kaftan and closed the door firmly behind her. “What I did say in the past was I didn’t trust Raul Montalvan. But after what he did today, putting his own life on the line for Cecile, has left me and our family indebted to him forever. So she’s in love with him, Stuart. Who could blame her? He’s certainly an extraordinary young man. Maybe it will work out, maybe it won’t. Either way—I’m very sorry, Stuart, I realize you’re hurt—my daughter is no longer in love with you.” Justine smiled tightly. “There it is! We had plans, but that young. man knocked them all down with one look from those dark eyes.”

  A strangled groan from Stuart. “So you’re turning against me too, Justine?” he cried. “You’ve been right behind me up until now.”

  “I know. I know.” Justine put a heavily be-ringed hand to her head. “Stuart, you can’t make me feel worse than I do already. I think you’re a fine young man. I can’t help it if Cecile has fallen out of love with you.”

  “How do you know she truly has?” Stuart demanded quite savagely.

  “Because I said so, Stuart,” Cecile answered. “The way you and Mother, rattle on together as though I’m not in the room is quite extraordinary. I’ll say it again, Stuart. I’m very sorry it has come to this, but I can’t marry you. I’ll return your ring in the morning. I’ve told you how I feel about Raul. I should point out, I’m not at all sure what Raul feels about me. Certainly he’s as attracted to me as I am to him, but right at this moment I don’t know where any of it is going. There’s so much we don’t know about one another.”

  “You can say that again.” Stuart’s handsome face darkened. “So he’s a glamorous sort of character and he can play polo. He’s here on a visit!”

  “It’s not about Raul,” Cecile said. “It’s about us, Stuart. There is no us. You’re quite right. I’m not the woman you thought I was. Almost certainly I wouldn’t make you happy. Our engagement was shaky for some time before Raul came into my life.”

  “Don’t you think you’re just trying to justify what you’ve done?” Stuart asked, his characteristic composure shattering like glass. “We were very happy. Everyone said so. Justine told me pretty well on a daily basis how happy she was about us.”

  “I had no right to do that, Stuart,” Justine suddenly confessed, her supreme confidence in herself shaken. “Call me a very interfering woman. I am. Cecile is far better able to choose the right man than I am.”

  Stuart totally lost it. He sprang to his feet. “This is an appalling situation. You’ve made a fool of me, Cecile. I’ll never forget that. Neither will my family. Do you know or even care I was going over our house with the architect only a few days ago? What about that?”

  “My husband and I will take care of the house, Stuart,” Justine said in an effort to placate him. “You won’t suffer any financial pain.”

  “I should bloody well think. not!” Stuart swore, his breathing fast and shallow.

  “I think that’s enough now, Stuart.” Justine held up her hand. “You and my daughter aren’t the first young couple to call off an engagement and you won’t be the last. There’s no stigma at
tached to it, nor should there be. The hurt is regrettable.”

  “The hurt and the humiliation,” Stuart answered, the muscles in his lean jaw working. “I’m telling you both now, I’m not taking this lying down. I’m going to dredge up every bit of information I can on Raul Montalvan. Okay, he is who he says he is, I’ve already checked that out, but you can bet your life a guy like that with his eye for women, and their eye for him—” he gave a hard cackling laugh “—will have a few secrets tucked away he doesn’t want anyone to know about.”

  Cecile looked up at him, smiling sadly. “Stuart, if Raul has love children all over Argentina, it wouldn’t help you. Our engagement is done. Please try to forgive me for the hurt I’ve caused you. I should have done this a long time ago. We really aren’t suited, are we?”

  Stuart gave that odd cackling laugh again. “Skip the self-delusion, Cecile. Raul Montalvan wrecked our engagement. I swear I’ll get the dirt on that guy, and when I do you’ll be the first to know.”

  NEXT MORNING when Raul walked onto the veranda outside his room, he saw Jack Doyle at the side of the house, giving instructions to a couple of groundsmen. He took in a lungful of pure desert air, trying to rid himself of the lingering miasma of his dreams, nightmares really, intensely vivid, that were connected to the deaths of both Jared Moreland and his uncle Benjamin. Not used to any kind of medication, he put a lot of the feverish brain activity down to the sedative, or whatever, Dr. Nelson had given him for the painful lump on his head. It was still aching and not all that much diminished in size.

  He wondered how Cecile was this blue cloudless morning, heavy with the aromatic scents of the bush. The birds were darting through the trees showing flashes of incredibly brilliant color as they called to one another. Beautiful butterflies were drawn in large numbers to the profusely flowering lantana. He watched them fluttering, wondering how he had kept himself from going down to Cecile in the still of last night. Even the thought made his blood stir. The need to reassure himself she was all right had been overwhelming, but so was the need to be with her, to hold her lovely supple body in his arms. More than anything, to make love to her. Once he had seen them on opposing sides, but that feeling had passed. She was in his blood. It was as simple and as hopelessly complicated as that!

  Since speaking to Brad Caldwell, the station manager, he had awaited his moment to strike up a conversation with Doyle. With any luck at all, it might lead to his finding out where Frank Grover, Jared Moreland’s alleged rival, might be. Whether the man was in or out of the country, Raul silently vowed he would find him. There were a whole lot of questions that needed answers. No way would the Benjie he so lovingly remembered have been involved in any plan to hurt a living soul, let alone Joel Moreland’s only son. The most likely scenario could prove Brad right. Someone with a pressing motive had pushed Benjie into the arena, certain that Moreland would be the first to go to his aid.

  Chiseled features taut, Raul walked down into the garden and rounded the east wing of the house.

  “Well, now, how’s it goin’?” Jack Doyle called out a friendly greeting the moment he spotted him. “Bet you’ve got a sore head.”

  “It’s not too bad, thanks, Jack.” Raul smiled at the older man, digging his fingers into his thick hair.

  “That’s a relief. No ride this morning?”

  “I think I’ll leave it until this afternoon,” Raul said wryly. “It was a great pity Mr. Moreland had to be there yesterday. He was badly shaken.”

  “Sure was!” Jack agreed. “He’s never got over what happened to Jared, even if he never lost the Midas Touch in other ways. I suppose it was trying to block out the grief that drove him to concentrate so fiercely on his business affairs.”

  There was irony in that, Raul thought. Even cut down, Joel Moreland had remained a workaholic and an increasingly formidable business mogul. In his seventies he was still very much in charge. Raul stared off across the garden to where a large flock of sulfur-crested cockatoos were making a commotion. “So what were the circumstances of Jared’s death? Do you mind my asking, Jack? I only hear snatches here and there. I’ve never had the full story. Brad told me a little about that terrible day. About the young fellow that was held responsible for the tragedy.”

  “Just a kid—I remember him well,” Jack said. “What he did—or what he was thought to have done at the time—was incredibly stupid and wild, but according to those who knew him, which I didn’t, he wasn’t wild at all. He did, however, have a passion for rodeo, which we all know is a pretty foolhardy recreation. What’s the pleasure in courtin’ broken bones, countless bruises and mashed insides? I’ve seen guys who’ve had their thumbs ripped off calf ropin’.” Jared had a passion for the arena as well. It was real dangerous and his mother was very much against it. Even Joel, who used to have a lot of fun with the ride-’em-cowboy routine when he was young, begged him to wrap it up. Got ’im all the same. That was one mean, murderous beast that killed him.”

  “He must have been very brave, as well as tough.” Raul found he was having to revise just about everything he had been told about the Morelands as a boy growing up.

  “Brave like you,” Jack said simply. “Nuthin’ fake about it. Real guts.”

  “He would have known he was taking a terrible risk.”

  “Nearly pulled it off,” Jack lamented, “only he tripped on something and went sprawling flat on his back in the dust. It was bloody horrible, I can tell you. I had nightmares about it for years.”

  “You said something Brad implied, Jack.” Raul was anxious to keep the conversation going without alerting the other man to his deep-seated fixation. “There was some speculation the boy could have been pushed, wasn’t there? Brad spoke about bad blood between Jared and a friend of yours, Frank Grover—I think I’ve got the name right.”

  “Name’s right, but Brad gave you a bum steer about the friend.” Jack slapped at a biting insect on his arm. “Grover was no friend of mine. How the hell did Brad figure that? We worked together. Rode together. We weren’t mates. Hell, I didn’t even like the guy. He had real pale, pale blue eyes, kinda empty. He was mad about Johanna, the little housemaid up at the homestead. I guess you know that story?”

  Raul nodded and changed the subject. “What I saw of Daniel I liked. He and Cecile could be twins.”

  “Ain’t no one as beautiful as Miss Cecile,” Jack said, eyes twinkling.

  “You won’t get any argument from me,” Raul said dryly. “So where is this Grover now? I gather he no longer works on the station?”

  “Crikey, you wouldn’t wanna know,” Jack leaned toward him, near whispering. “He was taken by a croc up in North Queensland about four years ago.”

  No! That Grover, the bastard, was dead was the one thing Raul hadn’t counted on. He was so busy trying to rein in his crushing frustration he barely heard the rest of Jack’s story.

  “It was in the papers,” Jack was saying in a matter-of-fact voice. “Silly bugger was sitting on a jetty fishing, legs dangling apparently, and a bloody croc reared up out of the water and bit him near in two. They shot the croc when it was just doing what crocs do. Grover was the fool. Any mug would have known better. To make it worse he’d worked on a croc farm for a few years. Got a mite too complacent.”

  Raul could have smashed his fist into the trunk of the tree they were standing under. “Is it possible Grover pushed the boy, or is that theory just plain crazy?”

  Jack took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Actually not,” he said. “No one considered it at the time, but I think Grover let a few things slip one time when he was drunk. He hated Jared for stealing his girl.”

  “And was she his girl?” Raul tried to moderate the intensity of his tone.

  Jack shrugged a broad shoulder. “Lordy, I wasn’t close enough to any of them to know. Grover was a good-looking bloke even if he was a bit strange. Johanna couldn’t have thought to look as high as Jared. Hell, he was the boss’s son.

  His mother had big plan
s for him, which didn’t include no little housemaid. Maybe Frank was her boyfriend, at least for a while. I don’t know. All I do know is Johanna was pregnant by Jared.”

  “Could it have been a deliberate ploy to get Jared to marry her?” Raul was compelled to ask.

  “God knows, mate,” Jack shook his head. “Who knows what goes on in anyone’s head when sex is involved? Fact is, Daniel is the result and Daniel is Joel Moreland’s heir. It wouldn’t pay to start talkin’ about Frank Grover, or the boy. Some things it’s better not to discuss. Especially around here. Jared’s memory is stained with blood. Lockhart was the boy’s name. He was killed, too, believe it or not. It was like a bloody jinx was on all of them. All of them gone.”

  Raul fought down the racking cry that tore at his chest. “It’s a very strange and disturbing story,” he said. “You must have some opinion, Jack. You were there that day.”

  Jack’s blue eyes went hazy with memory. “I, thought the same as everyone else. It was an act of sheer bloody criminal stupidity had caused Jared’s death. Everyone was so shocked and angry they wanted to tear the kid to pieces, poor little bugger…though he wasn’t little at all. He was a big strappin’ fella. Neither Joel nor Mrs. Moreland were there on the day, but Mrs. Moreland—now there was one terrifyin’ lady—she was determined the boy and his family would be punished. She had the power to make it happen. The Morelands were even then huge Territory benefactors. It only took a word in someone’s ear to make it pretty difficult for the boy’s grandfather to run his property and get help when he needed it. Hired hands, mechanics, truckers, fencers, contract choppers, suppliers of all kinds, even vets had pressing reasons to be somewhere else. The word had gone out, you see. Most stuck with the strength, for fear of reprisals. I reckon Mrs. Moreland would have turned on them. The old boy couldn’t get any additional credit from the bank to tide them over the bad patch everyone was experiencing. They came down mighty hard on him when they were lenient with others. It finally finished up with the bank foreclosin’ on their station. No one in their right mind would have crossed Mrs. Moreland or, God forbid, been the cause of the death of her son. It wasn’t until some years later that the rumors starting goin’ the rounds. All of us quick to condemn had to sit down and reexamine the whole event and the people who could have been involved in some way. To this day nobody actually knows. Nor will we ever know if it was a horrific accident or bloody murder. I feel real bad about the whole thing. So do most of us, I reckon. Ben Lockhart might have been an entirely. innocent young man.”