Sweet Silken Bondage

by Bobbi Smith

  "I understand, but I'm sure you keep busy."

  Reina thought of her mad dash to the convent and then her hectic, secretive trip into town to catch the stage. "That's true. It seems there's never a dull moment anymore."

  "What do you do?" Melissa wondered with open curiosity.

  "Oh, I pray a lot," Reina replied vaguely with a smile meant to disarm the little girl's interest. She really didn't want to talk about life in the convent for fear that they might ask too detailed a question. Maria had counseled her extensively before she'd fled into the night to make good her great escape, but Reina was well aware that there was a lot she still didn't know about being a sister. "In the convent we have morning prayers followed by mass, then vespers in the evening and meditation..."

  "That's all you do? Pray?" the youngster repeated in disappointment, thinking a life of such holy devotion sounded terrible. "Why would you want to do that when you could be home riding your horse?"

  "Melissa!" her mother scolded. "You mustn't talk to Sister Mary Regina that way."

  "Yes, Mama" she responded contritely and then apologized. "I'm sorry. Sister."

  "Don't worry, Melissa. I remember I felt the same way at one time," Reina told her. Had she ever! When had it been? Twenty minutes ago?

  "What happened to change your mind?" the inquisitive child wanted to know.

  "It occurred to me almost overnight that this was the only path to my salvation," she answered calmly, knowing that what she was telling her was the complete truth.

  "Oh." Melissa frowned, trying to understand, but meeting with little success. "Still, it must be kind of awful wearing all those clothes all the time. Don't you get hot?"

  "Melissa!" Again Ruth was shocked by her question. "Sister, I'm sorry. Melissa's never had the opportunity to talk with a nun before. She doesn't realize..."

  "Believe me, Mrs. Hawks, I understand," Reina soothed the embarrassed mother, then looked to the young girl. "Yes, Melissa, it does get very hot." Reina tried not to think about the sweat that was beading her brow and trickling miserably down her back. "But it's well worth it. The rewards for tolerating such a little inconvenience and discomfort will be tremendous," she assured the child, dwelling not on the terrible heat and resulting misery, but on the glory of reaching New Orleans, safe and undetected.

  "Betcha you're gonna get even hotter before we get to Fort Yuma," Melissa declared knowingly. "Papa always writes and tells us that it gets real hot down there."

  "I'm sure he's right," Reina replied. The thought of the long miles across the territorial badlands after leaving Yuma had her more concerned than the trip to Yuma. This habit she'd borrowed was downright stifling, if the truth be told, and she wondered how she was going to survive the desert climate dressed like this since it certainly wouldn't do for her, Sister Mary Regina, to start stripping off layers of clothes just for the sake of coolness.

  Reina thought of the comfortable, loose-fitting skirts and blouses she'd left at home then, and the many hours she'd spent relaxing in shaded coolness of the patio of Rancho Alvarez with its splashing, gurgling fountain, and another wave of homesickness threatened. With an effort, she put it from her. She had made her choice, and she would see it through. No matter what, she would not go back unless she was assured that she wouldn't have to marry Nathan.

  Reina was dwelling on that thought, when suddenly and unexpectedly, the sound of rapidly fired gunshots ruptured the quiet of the afternoon. Taken by surprise, the driver reacted instinctively, lashing furiously at his team. Spooked by the gunfire and stung by the whip, the horses responded, whinnying in terror as they took off at a dead run. Within the coach, Reina and the others were thrown from their seats as the stagecoach gave a maddening lurch and then took off.

  Poke recovered first and quickly drew his revolver as he tried to get a look out the window. Seeing the bandits galloping at top speed in pursuit of the stage, he ordered tersely, "All of you stay the hell down! Sorry, Sister!" He began shooting out the window in an attempt to drive them off, but the jouncing of the stage made his shots far less than accurate.

  The robbers saw that someone was shooting at them from inside the coach, and they shot back. Bullets exploded into the wood around the window where Poke crouched, and he ducked down by the women, taking a minute to reload.

  "Sister, you'd better start prayin', 'cause these look like some real mean bastards!" he said seriously, meeting her dark-eyed gaze full on.

  Reina saw the seriousness in his regard, and a shiver of apprehension frissoned down her spine in spite of the heat. "I'll pray for you, Poke."

  "You damn well better pray for all of us," he growled as he finished shoving the bullets into his gun's chamber and then maneuvered himself back up to the window.

  Clay slowed his horse to a walk as he neared the small pond. Except for a couple of hours sleep the night before, he'd been riding almost non-stop since leaving Monterey a little over a day ago. He was agitated and angry, but knew it did little good to cater to those emotions. He had to concentrate on the job at hand. He had to find Reina Alvarez, and he had to find her fast. It was the only way he could save Dev from being caged like an animal in the jail cell.

  As he drew to a stop at the water's edge, Clay dismounted and allowed his horse to drink its fill. His thoughts were determined as he surveyed the surrounding area, trying to calculate how far he'd come and just how much farther he had to go. He'd been cutting across country, making every effort to catch up to the stagecoach that had departed Monterey for Los Angeles two days before him.

  It wasn't sheer speculation that had convinced Clay to track down this coach, but a good deal of checking and double-checking with Alvarez and his men before he'd left. Their thorough, but fruitless search had led him to believe that the girl had fled the area. When he'd informed his employer of his opinion, Alvarez had immediately suggested that Reina might be on her way to New Orleans where she had close friends. Inquiries at the stage depot had turned up the fact that there were four passengers on the stage that had pulled out two days earlier-two women, both of them relatively young, an old man and a child. Clay had felt almost certain that one of the women had to be Reina, and he'd decided to act on that hunch. So here he was, out in the middle of nowhere, trying to catch up with the stage he suspected Reina Alvarez had taken.

  Leaving his mount to finish drinking, Clay moved off to sit down in the shade of a nearby tree and try to relax for a minute. Try as he might, though, thoughts of Dev's perilous situation haunted him, and not for the first time since he'd been trapped into taking this job, Clay silently cursed the woman who was the cause of it all.

  In anger and annoyance, Clay pulled the small oil portrait of Reina Alvarez her father had given him from, his pocket. He stared down at the picture of the beautiful woman, studying her every feature, committing this vision of her to his memory. Though the old man had cautioned him that the portrait was two years old, Clay doubted he would have any trouble recognizing her. In the tiny painting, she was wearing a fashionably lowcut, emerald green ballgown, and the expression the artist had rendered on her lovely features was quite regal. Her ebony hair was drawn up and away from her face, and then left to fall, unbound in a black, silken cascade about her slender shoulders. Her eyes, Clay realized, were her most attractive feature. Wide, dark and fathomless, they were the kind of eyes a man could lose himself in. Her complexion was flawless, her nose perfect, her mouth definitely kissable, and he wondered...

  Clay suddenly realized the direction his thoughts were taking, and he grew even more irritated. Gorgeous though she might be, he wanted nothing to do with her. Forcefully, he reminded himself just what kind of a woman she was. She was a greedy, selfish witch, exactly like his mother, and he would not allow himself to forget that ever again. He would find her, and he would take her home to her father and loving fiance, and that was all he wanted to do with her.

  Agitated and knowing he shouldn't be resting and taking it easy while Dev was stuck behind ba
rs, Clay got to his feet and strode purposefully to his horse. He paused there only long enough to stuff the picture of the Alvarez girl in his saddlebag, then gathered up the reins and vaulted easily into the saddle. He had just put his heels to his mount's sides when he heard shots being fired in the distance. He didn't know what was going on, but it sounded like trouble. Urging the horse to a full gallop, he raced off in the direction of the gunplay to see what was happening.

  The outlaws had gained ground on the stage, and when Poke appeared at the window, one of the villains fired with deadly accuracy. Poke cried out in agony as the bullet hit him in the shoulder. Driven backward by the force of the shot, he sprawled half across the seat, half on top of the women.

  Ruth and Melissa screamed in terror. Only Reina had the sense to act. She pushed herself free of his weight and maneuvered to see if she could help him. Reina helped him shift more completely back on the seat and then looked to his wound.

  "Poke..." she murmured in concern and horror as she saw the blood staining his shirt. She ripped the garment away from the wound and seeing how serious it was, immediately tore a strip of cloth from her petticoat. Wadding up the material, unmindful of the gore that would get all over her white habit, she pressed it firmly to the injury, applying the necessary pressure to staunch the flow of blood.

  "Damn..." Poke gasped, half out of his mind in his agony. "Sorry, Sister..."

  "Hush, Poke!" Reina scolded, wondering how he could be in such obvious pain and still worry about the language he used around her. "Just hang on, I'll take care of you." She had no more time to speak as the stage suddenly began to slow down.

  "Oh, my God! The driver's going to stop!" Ruth shrieked.

  "Mama!" Melissa cried, and her mother gathered her close to her bosom to try to shield her from the terror she knew was to come.

  As the stage ground to a halt, Poke made a superhuman effort and grabbed up his gun from where it had fallen to the stage floor beside him. He thrust it into Reina's hand. "Here..." he choked. "Don't let them varmints near you..."

  Reina stared down at the weapon in surprised wonder. She knew how to shoot a sidearm. Her father had taught her well, but could she actually use it to shoot someone? Poke saw her confusion and misread her thoughts.

  "It ain't no sin to save yourself," he argued weakly. "Use it if you have to, Sister..."

  Poke passed out just as the stage door was thrown violently open. It banged loudly against the side of the coach as the hulking figure of a man loomed menacingly in the doorway. Big and ugly, the lower half of his face hidden behind a bandana, he leaned into the coach to get a better look. His pale, blue eyes glittered triumphantly as he saw the nun hovering over the cowboy.

  "Heh, heh, heh..." The evil sound of his laugh echoed through the stage sending shivers of fright through Reina and the others. "Get out of the way," he snarled, giving Reina a hard shove to push her away from Poke.

  Reina's wide, fearful gaze was fixed on the villainouslooking robber as she scrambled to sit on the opposite seat. Despite her terror, she had presence of mind enough to keep the gun hidden in the folds of her voluminous skirts.

  "Good shot, Duke! You got him good!"

  "Is he dead?" Game the gloating answer from outside.

  "Not yet, but he will be soon," the vicious Vic declared with something akin to glee. "These others ain't, though."

  "Others? You mean we got more passengers?"

  "Yep, and they're all women, too." Vic backed away from the stage, but kept his gun trained on the door. "Get on out of there!" he ordered coldly.

  "Sister...?" Ruth turned desperate eyes to Reina, hoping for guidance.

  Reina remembered Poke's warning that she should pray for them all, and she wondered what good a prayer was against men like these.

  "We'd better do as he says," she urged. "Let me go first..."

  Terrified, Ruth nodded as she momentarily closed her eyes and buried her face against her daughter's hair. Mustering a semblance of outward calm, Reina descended to face their attackers.

  Though Reina had never before known true fear, she knew it then. Her father had often spoken of the vicious, lawless men who were ravaging the countryside attacking unwary travelers, and standing here now, looking at these two ruthless desperadoes, she realized exactly what he'd been talking about. While Vic re mained nearby, the one named Duke still sat his horse a short distance away, his rifle aimed point blank at the chest of the fear-frozen, unmoving stage driver. He was a mean-looking man, and his obsidian eyes were devoid of emotion as he regarded her. The disguising mask he wore covering his mouth and chin only served to give him an even more dangerous look. Reina knew instinctively that these men were men without morals who would kill indiscriminately without thought or care. The chilling realization made her brush her hand against the reassuring hardness of her hidden revolver.

  "Well, what ya got there, Vic?" Duke called out as he stared at her in amazement.

  "We got us a nun," he responded.

  "What d'ya think. Sister? Think your God's gonna help ya now?" Duke guffawed at his own humor as he dismounted, still keeping his rifle trained on the driver.

  Though her basic, fiery instincts urged Reina to go for her gun and start shooting, she knew it would be useless. Even with the element of surprise on her side, she was outnumbered two to one. Forcing herself to continue her role, she fixed a cool, steady gaze upon him and refused to respond visibly to his taunt. When Ruth and Melissa joined her outside, huddling near her, she put a protective arm around them both.

  "We're no threat to you" Reina told the outlaws. "Take what you want and go."

  "You're right about one thing, lady, you ain't no threat to us. But maybe you got somethin' even more excitin' than money, eh, Vic?" The lecherous Duke eyed Reina hungrily. He'd always wondered about these religious women who always looked and acted so pious. He wondered if she was as cool as she looked. He took a menacing step toward her, his barbarous mind filled with thoughts of sating his perverted lust on her.

  Fred, the stagedriver, was fearful of what the outlaw intended to do, and he spoke up quickly, hoping to deter him. "Take the strongbox and get out of here!" He threw the heavy box to the ground.

  "If you want to live to see sundown, you'll shut your mouth!" Duke commanded, and he gave a victorious, derisive laugh as the driver immediately fell silent. His interest in Reina secondary to his interest in money, he waved his companion toward the box. "See what we got, Vic..."

  Vic hurried to do as he was told and quickly shot the heavy padlock off the box. He threw the lid open, and his eyes widened greedily. "Look here, Duke! We done hit the jackpot!"

  "Hot damn!" Duke saw the bags of gold coins and promptly forgot everything else. Rushing to grab his saddlebags, he hurried to his comrade's side. Together, they began stuffing the bags full of loot.

  Fred was warily eyeing his own rifle where it lay just out of reach. Since the two bandits were obviously distracted, he wondered desperately if he could reach it and shoot them before they could get him. He was about to go for the gun, when Vic finished packing away the last of the money and looked up.

  "I wouldn't do it if I were you," Vic sneered, accurately reading the desperation in the driver's expres sion. "Just throw that rifle on down here real easy-like."

  Scared and knowing that he didn't stand a chance, Fred did as he was told.

  "That's the way to stay alive," Duke chided sarcastically, getting to his feet and walking slowly toward where the two women and the child stood. The heavyset woman and her little girl held no interest for him, only the pretty nun intrigued him. "Now, I think I want to have me a little fun..."

  Ruth and Melissa cowered in horror, while Reina alone faced him without flinching.

  "Leave us alone," Reina commanded using her usual arrogant tone. "You've got what you came after."

  "I just decided there's another prize here I want besides the money..." Duke remarked, his gaze hot upon her. "You're awful young..." he said, l
eering at Reina. "Let's see if the rest of ya is as pretty as your face. Let's see what ya got hidden beneath all those ugly robes ...what d'ya say?" He reached out to her.

  "Don't touch me!" Reina ordered imperiously, ducking away from his hand.

  "Oh, I'm going to do more than touch you..." he told her lasciviously. "You ever been with a man?"

  "No," she answered, trying to keep her voice steady. "I am a bride of Christ"

  Her words had no effect on the amoral, decadent bandit. He was too eager to see what kind of woman she really was.

  "Good. That'll make you even sweeter..." Grabbing Reina by the arms, he tore her away from Ruth's and Melissa's clinging embraces.

  "No! Don't!" Ruth cried out.

  Duke ignored her and hauled Reina to him, pinning her against his chest. With one hand, he pushed his bandana down off his face and then bent to kiss her. His mouth ground down over hers in a punishing exchange.

  Reina struggled violently to break free of his awful, degrading hold. She had no intention of allowing this filth to touch her. She fought madly, trying to get her right hand free so she could grab her gun, but to no avail. The sound of Vic hooting and howling in obscene pleasure as he watched them, infuriated her. When Duke tried to deepen the vile kiss, she bit down on his lip as hard as she could.

  When he suddenly broke off the kiss, Reina cried, "Get your hands off of me!" She tried to kick out at him, but the heavy skirts impeded her success.

  Duke was not fazed in the least by the pain of her bite, and her continued struggles only seemed to amuse him. He controlled her easily and laughed as he glanced over at Vic. "Look at her fight! Ain't she a feisty little piece? You want some of this when I'm done?"

  "Leave the Sister alone! You got your money!" Fred yelled in frustrated fury. He didn't know how anyone could even think of harming a religious woman.

  "Shut up!" Duke snarled, dragging Reina back into his arms despite her efforts to the contrary.