Bandit's Embrace (The Durango Family)

by Georgina Gentry

  “Not quite, hombre.” Bandit pushed his Stetson back. “I’m going to have to go away. All plans are changed.”

  The man’s dark eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open, the match falling to the barn floor. “Go away? Have you gone loco? We are so close to having all that money, all that power, I can just taste it and that’s a fact!” He rubbed his hands together.

  “I can’t help it. There’s a trio of outlaws lookin’ for me.”

  “Who?”

  He shook his head. “It don’t make no never mind. Americanos. If they should show up here, tell them they can find me in Bandera.”

  Romeros put his foot up on a box, touched the hilt of the knife in his boot. “You need help against them, no?”

  “No. I’ll deal with them myself but I wanna be able to pick the time and place. So if they turn up, just send them back to Texas. That’s all.”

  Anger and frustration filled Romeros’s dark face. “That’s all. Just like that, hey? After all this plotting, all my dreams, you just ride out and say ‘Forget it, Romeros. You’re not ever gonna see any money, no power, nothing. You’re gonna be just what you’ve always been, the lowly foreman.’”

  Bandit hadn’t realized how ambitious, how driven the man was. He looked at him, really seeing him for the first time. He began to suspect this man was more ruthless than he realized. “Caporal of the Falcon spread is a respected position; most men would be pleased to have it.”

  “Foreman! ” Romeros sneered, “Sí, foreman. For almost a quarter of a century, I have served the Falcons faithfully. I came here only months after Don Enrique’s younger brother was killed. Young and stupid as I was, I dreamed of taking Antonio’s place, becoming the heir. A few months later, my hopes were dashed forever when they had their own child.”

  The stallion whinnied, and Bandit went over, stroked Blue Eyes’ nose. “Bad luck for you, good luck for them.”

  Romeros scowled. “For the next several years, I watched them dote on that little boy, watched their anguish when the child was kidnapped. I thought then Don Enrique might turn to me, think again of adopting me. It never happened.”

  “I suppose he never gave up hope that someday the boy might return,” Bandit said aloud. “The human heart lives on hope after all.”

  “Sí, doesn’t it?” Romeros sounded bitter. “I have given my life to the Falcon family, to this ranch; and he has always taken me for granted, never shown any gratitude.”

  “I seem to recall you get a very fine salary for your work.”

  “Salary! Sí, a paid employee, that’s all I am! Twenty-five years I have spent slaving on this ranch, always hoping to be made part of this family, to have as my own the Falcon wealth and power. No one deserves it more than me!”

  “Maybe,” Bandit said, “the old man sensed your ambition, realized you worked not from loyalty but out of your own greed and ambition. Anyway, I can’t help any of that. As I said, I’m going to leave and return to Texas.”

  Romeros caught his arm. “Just as we were about to get control of the money? I have gambling debts to pay! Don’t do something you’ll regret, hombre.”

  “I already have.” Bandit looked at him. “Some of it I can’t change, no matter how sorry I am. But I can keep my showdown from happening here. So don’t stand in my way or argue with me about it.”

  Romeros took the knife from his boot, cleaned his fingernails. “Let us not quarrel, amigo.” He smiled. “We both stand to lose if you walk away from all this when, in the long run, you will control both these big ranches, the wealth of both these families.”

  Bandit looked at him, disliking Romeros for the villain he was. “And you will control all that because you control me?”

  “Amigo, let us not speak of us.” Romeros smiled and shrugged. “You don’t know how much trouble I have gone to to insure success. You can’t just walk away.”

  Bandit smiled his lopsided grin. “You just watch me.”

  A swarthy vaquero entered the barn. “Señor Romeros, the men are waiting. Aren’t we supposed to round up cattle in the south pasture this morning?”

  Romeros looked from one man to the other. Obviously no more could be said at the moment. “Don’t do anything rash, Señor Tony,” he said politely. “Let us talk again later about this.”

  Bandit nodded, then watched him turn and walk away with the vaquero, swing up on his bay horse and leave.

  What was he going to do about that foreman? He cared too much about the old don to leave an untrustworthy thief in charge here. An untrustworthy thief. He had just described himself.

  A young boy walked past the barn, leading a horse. Bandit signaled him. “Niño, would you take a message?”

  “Sí, Señor Tony. I am yours to command.”

  “Go to the Durango spread, seek out the señorita Monique Dupre. Tell her I wish to meet her in the grove of mesquite trees between the two ranches at high noon.”

  The boy’s face mirrored curiosity. “Sí, señor.” He mounted up, rode away.

  Bandit had decided he must talk to Mona, then to Amethyst before he left. He still hadn’t decided what to do about Romeros and the old Falcons.

  At high noon, he saddled up Blue Eyes and rode out to the meeting place. Mona sat in a buggy under the shade of an elegant parasol that matched an exquisite dress of delicate pale green lace and dotted Swiss.

  “Bandit! I’ve been worried sick! ” She closed the parasol with a snap. “I knew something important was up or you wouldn’t take a chance askin’ me to meet you!”

  He swung down off his horse, went over, and held out his hand to assist her from the buggy. “Something has come up, Mona. I’ve got to go back to Texas.”

  “To Texas?” She looked up at him, her lips slightly parted. She wore a strongly scented gardenia perfume, and the wrinkles around her eyes showed through her face powder in the brightness of the pitiless sunlight. Mona definitely looked her age today.

  He only nodded, weary already of the argument he knew was coming.

  “Go back to Texas?” she repeated. “Handsome, have you lost your mind? We’ve both got a bird’s nest on the ground here, full of eggs to plunder! Old man Durango can’t live forever, and then I’ll have his fortune and you’ll have the Falcons’.”

  He leaned against the buggy, fingered the cougar-claw nekclace. “I can’t help it, Mona. Some hombres are gunnin’ for me.”

  She grinned and winked. “Ah, not again! Some rancher’s pretty daughter or sister, huh?”

  Bandit laughed in spite of his mood. “It’s not what you think, Mona. I just wanted to say good-bye, wish you luck. We go back a long way and I care a lot for you.”

  Tears came to her eyes, and he knew she was remembering that long-ago night when she had turned a half-grown boy into a man. “I care more than you, Handsome. I always cared too much.”

  It was the truth, and he had no answer for the love in her voice. He looked away. “You’ve finally got a chance to close the door on your past, Mona. Make old Durango a good wife and you’ll be set, have money and social position forever—”

  “Oh.” She ducked her head. “I guess maybe I thought you wanted to ask me to go with you.”

  He fumbled for a cigarillo, struck a match on the sole of his boot. “Don’t be loco, Mona. You know what my life has always been like, will always be like—gambling halls and dirty hotel rooms, a rotten life even for you. Don’t be a fool. Make the most of this chance.”

  She moved close enough so that her breasts brushed against his arm and the strong scent of her perfume mingled with tobacco. “Things like that don’t mean nothin’ to a woman if she’s really in love. If you’d ask me, Handsome, I’d leave with you right this minute with nothin’ but the clothes on my back.”

  If only Amethyst would say those words of commitment, he thought. Wealthy, privileged Amethyst. His thoughts must have showed in his eyes.

  “It’s the Durango girl, isn’t it?” Mona said, jealous fire flashing in her green eyes. “I’m
too old anymore. You’re taking that young beauty with you!”

  He felt suddenly weary from little sleep. He didn’t want to fuss with her. “No.” He shook his head. “I’m not taking Amethyst. But she’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

  Mona bristled. “That little snip has tried to keep her father from marrying me. What she doesn’t know, she suspects!”

  “Mona, this is your chance, your only chance for a new life.” He blew pungent smoke into the midday heat. “I want you to back off, promise you’ll stop tryin’ to get Señor Durango to ship her off to school. Let her do whatever makes her happy.”

  “I see.” Her voice dripped ice as she turned away. “You didn’t invite me here to talk about us, you invited me here to talk about her.”

  “I love her, Mona. I’ve loved her from the very first moment I ever laid eyes on her. I don’t suppose you could understand that.”

  She looked at him, her heart in her eyes. “Couldn’t I? You think I’ve ever really cared for anyone but you?”

  “Mona, you’re old enough to be my mother—”

  “Damn you for saying that!” She slapped him hard, his head snapping back, his cheek stinging. “You think every day I don’t look in the mirror, count the lines? The fact I’ve got fifteen years on you doesn’t make me an old hag, doesn’t stop me from lovin’ you!”

  He reached up to rub his cheek. “I reckon I never realized, Mona, all these years. . . .”

  In the silence, he heard her swallow hard. “All these years. And now I offer to throw away my one chance to be a real lady to go with you. But you turn me down. That hurts, Handsome; it really hurts.”

  For a long moment, he said nothing, unsure of what to do in the face of such devotion. “I’m in trouble, Mona. I wouldn’t want you to get mixed up in it.”

  She dabbed at her eyes. The makeup smeared and she looked even older. “I guess I was fool enough to hope you’d found out I was in Mexico, followed me here. Here we was finally going to have each other and both fortunes.”

  “Had you forgotten Amethyst and her father?”

  “Well, maybe I’d get lucky and they’d both have an accident or come down with something and die like that governess did.”

  Bandit shook his head, studied the tip of his cigar. “What a scheming filly you are, Mona. Still I wouldn’t count on having that much luck twice. Gomez Durango might have married Miss Callie if she hadn’t died suddenly while you were here.”

  “Luck, yes. I guess some would call it that.”

  He couldn’t read her expression, but he had run out of time for this quibbling. He glanced up at the sun, threw away his cigar. “Mona, I love Amethyst. I’d trade the whole Falcon fortune to have her love me, too.”

  “You really mean that, don’t you? You finally got a chance to be something more than a saddle tramp and you’d toss it all away for that violet-eyed girl if you had to?”

  “That’s right.” He laughed, raised one sardonic eyebrow. “The bastard who doesn’t even know who sired him would throw away respect, money, everything, for the love of an elegant, blue-blooded girl if he could have her.”

  Mona looked up at him. “Bandit, before I got Lidah into my line of work, she was a shy, sweet type. I’d swear she’d had no other man but your father when I urged her into this business. They really loved each other, I think.”

  Bandit shrugged. “Then why the hell didn’t he come back for her?” Somehow he knew the answer. The man had heard about the child and didn’t want it. That was nothing new. His mother didn’t want him most of the time either, especially after she began to drink.

  “Didn’t she ever tell you about him?”

  Bandit shook his head. “If I’d have known who the sonovabitch was, I might have searched him out, killed him like a dog in the street for deserting her.” But in his mind he thought, for deserting me. He didn’t want me either.

  Mona looked up at him. “Then maybe that’s why she didn’t tell you.”

  Even though he didn’t want to ask, he’d always wanted to know. “What?”

  “Not much, I suppose. Her family were Czech cedar cutters. You know, those Gypsy types who make charcoal.”

  He nodded. The Texas hill country was full of the drifting breed.

  “And you know she was half-Apache. Her mama was raped during a raid. I guess a little dark, half-Indian child was never really welcome in that family of blond people. I suppose she always reminded them all of her mother’s shame.”

  “Like I did,” he said without thinking. For a moment, he saw Lidah Anson in a different light, as the unwanted girl who had gotten mixed up with the first man who’d offered her a little affection. Then her lover had deserted her and her family had thrown her out. “I wish I had known. I wish . . .”

  Hell, what did it matter now? It was too late for all the words that had been unspoken between mother and son. At the very last, she had tried to tell him as she’d died. Only then did he know it wasn’t dysentery. A smell almost like garlic, the telltale scent of poisonous lucifer matches.

  At the last moment, Lidah had pressed the coin into his hands, whispered only that one word, ‘sokol.’ Then she had smiled as if she’d seen something, someone, waiting on the other side of the life she was exiting, someone who waited for her alone.

  “Handsome, your mama did what she did to survive, always hoping he would come back for both of you. At the end, she sort of gave up hope, figured she’d been a fool, only a moment’s pleasure for a man.”

  He clenched his fist, slammed it hard against the buggy until his flesh stung. “If I knew who he was, where he was, I’d hunt him down!”

  “Maybe he’s dead. You ever think of that? The Mexican War, the Civil War. Maybe he was a Texas Ranger or a soldier who got killed before he could come back.”

  Bandit looked away, imagining a big blond Texan riding off with the Rangers never to return, while his mother waited for a dead man. And that made him feel a little better, to think that he and his mother might not have been deliberately deserted by a man without honor—a man who would take advantage of a very young, very unhappy girl and never mean a word he said.

  “I got one more thing to tell you, Handsome.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “My God, there’s more? Mona, you are full of surprises!” He took out the small coin, flipping it over and over in his palm.

  “You . . . you’re gonna hate me for this.” She ran her tongue across her lips nervously.

  “Try me.” He stopped flipping the coin, stared down at her.

  “Bandit, have you ever thought about how Lidah found out about the lucifer matches?”

  He cocked his head. What was she trying to tell him? “Really never gave it much thought.”

  “I—that is, did you know my old man was a druggist in New Orleans?”

  “So?”

  She wrung her hands together. “When I mentioned to Lidah—we were just talking—about yellow phosphorus being used in fireworks, rat poison, and matches, I never realized what she would do with that knowledge. If I’d only known . . .”

  He stared down at her, the coin clenched tightly in his hand. He was not quite sure what he felt. Then he shook his head. “If that’s been worryin’ you, forget it. If she wanted to die, she’d have found some other way. It was her decision. God, she must have been so unhappy!”

  “But if I hadn’t told her about the matches, she’d be alive now.”

  “Would she?” He reached out, patted her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, Mona. Maybe she was just tired of living, tired of what she had to do to eat, tired of waiting for him.” He turned away, swallowed hard. Until he had met Amethyst, he could not have imagined a love that could last that long, make one suffer so.

  What difference did it all make now? “You’ve got to get back, Mona. Someone will be looking for you, and it’d be bad for us to be found together. I’m gonna ride over and see Amethyst, then finish up at Falcon’s Lair.”

  Tears ran down Mona�
�s face and she chewed her lip in a seeming agony of indecision. “Bandit, about the matches, there’s something else I should tell—”

  “God damn it! I said forget it!”

  She cringed before his anger, swallowed hard. “Will I ever see you again, Handsome?”

  He shook his head, dropped the coin back into his pocket. “Reckon not. You be a good girl, you hear? Make that old man a good wife, be kind to Amethyst. You got a good life ahead of you, and no one knows your past.”

  “There’s something I should tell you about Ro-eros—”

  “I know what a villain he is. I’ll take care of things.” Would he? Just what was he going to do about the gaunt foreman?

  “Handsome, would you kiss me good-bye, for all we’ve meant to each other, for old times’ sake?”

  “For old times’ sake, Mona.” And he took her in his arms, kissed her. She clung to him, sobbing.

  “Now, now.” He stroked her shaking shoulders. “None of that. You’re finally going to get to be a real lady.”

  “A real lady.” She was shaking in his arms, pressing her face against his shirt. “Who’d ever believe poor little Mona Dulaney from the slums of New Orleans would get to be a real lady? But oh, Handsome, I’d give it all up for you!”

  He kissed her eyelids gently. “Good-bye, Mona. Think of me sometimes in the years to come. And if you believe in that sort of thing, light a candle for me now and then.”

  “If you’ll do the same for me.” She clung to him.

  Firmly, he turned her around, steered her to the buggy, and lifted her onto the seat. “Good-bye, Mona.” He slapped the dozing bay horse lightly with his hand and it started away at a trot.

  She didn’t look back, but he stared after her as the buggy grew smaller, smaller. Her shoulders still shook as she disappeared over the rim of the horizon.

  Now what? He went over to the big pinto tied at the edge of the mesquite grove. “Well, old hoss, now all that’s left is to find Amethyst, tell her—”

  “Tell her what?” Glaring at him, Amethyst led her Paso Fino mare out of the brush.

  His heart plummeted with despair. “How long you been sneaking around in the brush like an armadillo?”