Sweet Silken Bondage

by Bobbi Smith

  "Damn you! I hope you rot in hell!" Reina hissed.

  "You aren't the first to wish that upon me, and I'm sure you won't be the last," he pointed out with a slight, mocking smile.

  Tears of frustration burned her eyes, but Reina fought them back. She would not let him see how he'd hurt her. She would never let him know that his cold rejection this morning was even more painful to her than her father's betrayal. She left the bed, grabbing the blanket as she went. Keeping her back to him, she wrapped it firmly around her, and without looking back, she moved stiffly away to stare out the window.

  In her most icy tone, she said slowly, "Stay away from me from now on. Don't you ever touch me again!"

  "You don't have to worry, Reina. What happened last night won't be repeated." He waited for a minute staring at her rigid back, then finished dressing and strode from the cabin, closing the door firmly behind him.

  "Senor Luis!" Carlos, the six-year-old son of one of the house maids, came charging full speed into the stable in search of the ranch owner.

  "He's here, Carlos!" Vicente, the head stable man, shouted from where he and his boss were standing near the rear of the building discussing business. "What is so important that you must interrupt us?" he scolded as the child came running up to them.

  "My mother sent me!" the boy replied in a breathless pant, the exertion of racing all the way there having left him gasping for air. He totally ignored the stablehand then and turned to the real boss. "Senor Luis, you must come up to the main house at once!" He took Luis' hand and tugged nervously.

  "Whoa, Carlos." Luis resisted the boy's effort to drag him off without an explanation. "Can't you see that I'm busy right now with Vicente? Just what is it that you feel requires my immediate attention?"

  "My mother said to find you and bring you right away! She said to tell you that he was there!" Carlos blurted out.

  "Who is there?" he asked, excitement gripping him as he imagined it was Cordell returning with Reina or at least word of her whereabouts.

  "An American!"

  The boy's words confirmed his high hopes, and he smiled widely in triumph. Reina would be home soon. He just knew it. Things were going to work out after all.

  "Thank you, Carlos," Luis said happily. "Run along back up to the house and tell your mother that I will be there right away."

  "Yes, sir." Grinning, knowing that he'd done well in delivering the message, he darted off in the direction of the house.

  "Senor? All is well?" Vicente noticed his boss's happiness and was pleased for his mood had been particularly black lately.

  "All is very well," Luis answered, his tone pleased. "I will be back later to finish our discussion."

  "Yes, sir."

  The distance to the house had never seemed so long to Luis as he hurried on up the path to meet with Cordell. He had known the man would show up sooner or later, he had just hoped it would be sooner. It had been well over a month ago when they'd last spoken, and he'd been waiting impatiently ever since for word from the bounty hunter about his missing daughter.

  The weeks since they'd parted had been difficult for him. He'd been forced to lie to Nathan about Reina's whereabouts, telling him that she'd gone to visit an aunt who lived south of San Diego. He'd accepted the story at face value at the time, but as the days had turned into weeks, Luis had wondered just how much longer he would continue to believe it. But now, that Cordell was back, his worries were over, providing, of course, that he'd located Reina.

  Reina...thoughts of her left Luis troubled and unsure. He loved her so, but was furious with her for her disobedience. She had never caused him this kind of aggravation before, and he wondered what had gotten into her. Surely, she wasn't really this upset about marrying Marlow. The man was handsome, rich and had all the right connections. Luis could see absolutely no reason why she would object.

  Still, Reina was his only daughter. When they spoke again, he would give her a chance to explain herself. The niggling fear that he might never see her again, that she might have come to some harm during her flight, stirred in his thoughts, but he pushed it away, refusing to think about the possibility. She meant too much to him to even consider such a terrible thing. No, Luis told himself, Reina was alive and well and if she wasn't here now, she soon would be. Cordell was supposedly the best. He would bring her back.

  Entering the main house through the kitchen, Luis paused only long enough to wash. That done, he went forth to the main parlor where his guest awaited him. He was about to call out with pleasure to Cordell, when his black-eyed gaze fell on none other than Nathan Marlow. He felt a terrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the American for he knew he had to stall him again. He said a silent, violent curse as he strode forward, and he tried to ignore the sudden cold sweat that dampened his forehead.

  "Nathan!" Luis called out in a jovial tone as he extended his hand. "What a pleasant surprise!"

  Nathan rose from where he'd been sitting to return his future father-in-law's greeting. "Luis, it's good to see you again." They clasped hands.

  Luis offered refreshments, but Nathan refused, preferring to get straight to the point. They sat down together.

  "What brings you to Rancho Alvarez today?" Luis sounded calm.

  "What do you think?" he returned with a slight smile. "I've come to see Reina."

  "Oh...Reina..." her father's tone reflected only disappointment and not the heart-stopping fear that really gripped him.

  "She has returned, hasn't she?" Nathan pressed.

  "I'm sorry to say, she has not."

  "But she was supposed to be back two days ago," he complained. "I waited the extra day to give her time to rest from the trip."

  `That was very thoughtful of you, and I know I told you originally that she would only be gone a few weeks. But she sent word just yesterday that she wanted to spend a little more time with her aunt."

  Nathan's eyes narrowed as he regarded the old Californio. "There isn't a problem, is there, Luis?"

  "No," he protested quickly, "there's no problem. What could be wrong?" He played innocent, glancing at the younger man questioningly, as if completely surprised by the suggestion.

  Nathan studied him for a moment, then asked, "She will be back soon, won't she? I miss her, and there are a lot of things I want to discuss with her about the wedding."

  "You needn't worry, Nathan. My daughter will be back home before you know it. She just wanted to spend some extra days with her aunt now, because once she's a married woman with the complete responsibility of running a household, she won't be able to get away for any great length of time."

  "Ali, I see," he agreed. "Perhaps this time apart will help us to realize just how much we really care about each other."

  "Oh, yes, I'm sure it will do that," Luis said, feeling cornered. Where was Reina? And just as important, where was Cordell?

  "You know, I'm looking forward to the wedding. It should prove to be the social event of the season."

  "I'm certain of it," he responded. "My daughter will be the most beautiful bride Monterey has ever seen."

  "There's no doubt about that," Nathan remarked as he got to his feet ready to leave. "Please, send my best to her and let her know that I'm eagerly awaiting her return."

  He stood to usher him from the room. "I shall. I only regret that you made the trip all the way out here for nothing. Are you sure you won't stay and partake of my hospitality for the night? It is a long journey back to town."

  "I appreciate the offer, Luis, but I have pressing business in Monterey. Had my intended returned, I could have justified the dalliance. But, since she is still out of town, I'd better get back to my work."

  "I understand, of course. I'll let my daughter know of your visit, and as soon as I receive word of the exact date of her return, I'll notify you."

  "Good. Until later..."

  Once more they shook hands and bid each other good-bye. Luis felt only relief as he watched him ride off down the main
drive. He couldn't believe that he had made it successfully through the conversation and that he had managed to put Nathan off for at least another few weeks. Luis drew a deep breath, and once Nathan was out of sight, he went back inside and downed a straight double shot of his finest, most potent whiskey.

  As Nathan headed back to town, he was lost in thought. He had picked up on the old man's anxiety and couldn't help but wonder if his would-be bride was giving him trouble about their marriage. He found the thought oddly exciting. He was truly going to enjoy taming Reina Alvarez.

  He had no fear that she would not show up for the wedding for he credited Luis with the ability to control his strong-willed daughter. He was fully confident that the wedding would take place as planned. What did it matter if she wasn't around right now? He had Lilly, and she was all the woman he'd ever really need.

  Charley Stevens, a lean, dark-haired, wild-eyed young man sat in the back of the Golden Horseshoe Saloon in Monterey drinking and playing cards with his two friends, blond, buck-toothed Bucky Porter and skinny, red-haired, hot-headed Rex Jones. Though Charley, the leader of the small group, gave the appearance of being in a mellow mood, he was really very worried. Nothing seemed to be going right lately, and it was making him very nervous.

  Weeks ago when Sheriff Macauley had arrested Devlin O'Keefe for Santana's murder, Charley and his companions had been thrilled. It had left them off the hook, free and clear. But now things had turned decidedly sour. Though it appeared to be such an open and shut case, the sheriff was stalling about going to trial, and that didn't sit well with Charley. He couldn't understand why Macauley had any doubts, and he certainly didn't want the lawman digging around too much for fear of what he might find out.

  Charley took a deep drink of his beer, knowing that he had to do something. He couldn't risk the investigation being reopened. He had to protect himself. He had to make sure that O'Keefe took the blame and paid the price for Santana's murder.

  "Ya know, boys, I think it's time we took matters into our own hands," Charley said calculatingly to his two companions.

  "You talkin' about this Santana thing?" Rex asked nervously.

  "It's been dragging on for too damned long," Charley swore in agitation. "O'Keefe should have been hung by now."

  "What d'ya want us to do?" the drunken Bucky asked, anxious to do anything that would cover up their involvement in the crime.

  "Well, first we're gonna need some help. We can't do this alone ...we'd look suspicious." He sat back giving the impression of being quite relaxed and then slowly began to talk in a loud voice that was guaranteed to stir up trouble. "Does everybody in here know that that Dev O'Keefe fella who killed Santana, is still sittin' over there pretty as you please in the jail getting the royal treatment, while of Pedro is rotting in his grave!"

  Understanding his role, Rex picked up on what his friend was doing. He demanded angrily, "You mean to tell me there ain't no plans to try him yet?"

  "Yep," Bucky answered playing along, "and it's a damned shame, too. The man's guilty as hell!"

  A murmur of interest rippled through the crowd in the bar.

  "I know it," Charley agreed, seeing that people were starting to listen and deliberately heating up the arguments. "I thought they had him good, but I guess not."

  "They found enough damned evidence to arrest him, but now it ain't enough to convict him?" Rex went on in irritated disbelief, trying to provoke people.

  "They found some evidence all right, but I guess for some reason the sheriff still ain't sure," Bucky complained.

  "Ain't sure? How much more sure do they gotta be?" Charley hollered, slamming his now-empty beer mug down on the table top. "I know what the evidence was. I heard tell they found something personal of O'Keefe's out there at the murder site, and they found a big roll of money he can't account for in his saddlebags."

  "He's guilty all right!" Rex declared.

  A chorus of "Yeahs" came from the bar as the crowd began to be swayed. Charley was pleased for this was just what he'd wanted.

  "Sounds guilty to me, but maybe we just got ourselves a coward for a sheriff. Maybe Macauley's afraid for some reason." Charley raised his voice again as he made his comments.

  "Yeah! What the hell else could he be waiting for? Pedro Santana was our friend!" Rex argued.

  "Yeah! Everybody liked Pedro!" Bucky echoed. "Yet his killer is still sitting there in jail!"

  The men at the bar were getting more and more caught up in the argument. They, too, had been wondering what the delay was in prosecuting O'Keefe. Sentiment was definitely running in Charley's favor. Their expressions were turning hostile, and their murmurings were growing stronger.

  Now Charley saw his chance. "I say we settle this ourselves! I say we go over to the jail and do the sheriffs job for him since it's obvious that he's too afraid to do it himself!"

  A rousing shout of agreement came from the crowd, and the atmosphere turned decidedly ugly. They began milling around excitedly, talking about the savageness of Santana's murder and how justice needed to be wrought swiftly.

  "Everybody here knew Pedro. How can we just sit by and act like nothing's happened? O'Keefe killed him, sure as hell. The man's guilty! He should pay for his crime!" Charley incited.

  "What are we waiting for?" Bucky cried out.

  "Let's do it!" Charley came aggressively to his feet. "Come on!"

  "They're right! We been waiting too long!" Someone at the bar called out. "Let's go!"

  Standing at the end of the bar near the back of the saloon, Wily Andrews, a grizzled old-timer, was sipping a whiskey and listening to the talk. As the crowd began to grow openly hostile toward the sheriff, he started to get nervous. Lynch mobs weren't pretty things. Innocent people got hurt. To his way of thinking, the crowd was beginning to sound dangerous. When Wily heard somebody yell that they ought to take care of the sheriffs business for him if he was too scared to do it himself, he knew he had to move. As quietly as he could, he crept out the back of the bar and ran for the jail.

  "Evening, Molly," Sheriff Macauley said as the young woman entered the office with Dev's dinner pail.

  "Evening, sheriff," Molly replied. Her tone was a little subdued this evening, but Macauley didn't notice.

  "O'Keefe must be hungry tonight. He's been watching for you for the last half hour."

  The news pleased her, and she smiled slightly at the thought. "I guess I'd better hurry on back and give him his dinner then." She had more than one reason for rushing this night.

  Macauley waved her on into the back room and turned his attention once more to the papers spread out before him on his desk. Since Denton's thwarted escape attempt, he'd come to trust and respect O'Keefe. He did not fear for Molly's safety as she disappeared into the cell block for he knew how the prisoner felt about the young woman. It had been evident in his behavior the day of Denton's death and during her daily visits since.

  Macauley let his thoughts drift to his prisoner then, and the terrible future that he faced. The sheriff knew he would soon have to go to trial with his case against O'Keefe, and that was bothering him. He could tell just from the general feeling in town that Dev's conviction was almost assured. But ever since Ace Denton's death, he had become convinced that Dev was not Santana's murderer. The man seemed a decent sort. He was not the kind of man who would cold-bloodedly back-shoot a stranger.

  Macauley attributed his success as a lawman from being one who followed his hunches, and for that reason, he'd hesitated to press Dev's prosecution yet. He kept hoping that something would turn up to exonerate the young man. He kept hoping his friend, Cordell, would come back with something that would prove his innocence. He didn't know what had happened to the other bounty hunter, but he wished he would show up soon.

  The sheriff sighed in frustration. He knew he couldn't wait too much longer without people getting suspicious of his motive. A gut feeling that the man was innocent wouldn't sway a jury or prove powerful evidence in a court of law. Forcing his t
houghts away from an increasingly difficult situation, he turned his attention back to his work.

  Molly entered the quiet of the cell area to find Dev stretched out on his bunk.

  "The sheriff tells me you're hungry," Molly said, giving him a small smile.

  "I'm starving, Molly. What did you bring tonight?" Dev smiled brilliantly at her, bounding up from his bed, delighted to see her. She was the one thing in his otherwise long and torturous days that made life worth living. If it hadn't been for her, Dev wasn't sure he could have kept up hope.

  Molly told him quickly what was on the menu for him that night, and as she spoke, he noticed immediately that she was not her usual cheerful self. He sensed that there was something bothering her, and he wondered what it could be and if he could help.

  "Is something wrong?" Dev cut in, his expression serious as he studied her, waiting for an answer.

  "No, nothing..." she replied far too quickly, looking away from him and rousing his suspicions even more.

  "What do you mean `nothing'?" he chided gently. "There's something troubling you, I can see it in your eyes and in your smile. Tell me about it. Maybe I can help."

  Molly had always thought that she was pretty good at hiding her emotions, and she wondered how Dev had become so attuned to her moods. Certainly, no one else had noticed that she was worried and unhappy.

  "I don't know..." She thought of her mother, growing weaker and weaker as the illness continued to ravage her.

  "What is it?" The iron bars that separated them were the only things that prevented Dev from taking her in his arms. He ached to hold her and ease her fears, and he cursed the law that caged him like an animal.

  "It's my mother..." Molly admitted softly.

  "She's not any better?" She had told him the day before that her mother was ill, but it had only been a single remark made in passing.