Relic

by Renee Collins

  To finish the look, a garish ruby necklace with cherry-sized gems had been placed around my neck. As I sat across the table from Álvar, his eyes kept going to the necklace resting against my bosom, which was surely the point of the design. I shuddered deep down and felt very much like that pig on the platter—proudly on display until the master grew hungry.

  What was going on? Just when I thought I had it all figured out, that I was nothing more than a young protégée, he’d ordered me to be dressed up and whisked away to a secluded desert spot, as if I were a prize he intended to savor in secret. I battled with myself, certain I must be misinterpreting the situation. I was overreacting, surely.

  “How do you like the view?” Álvar asked, drawing me out of my thoughts.

  I fumbled for a reply. “It’s beautiful.”

  A sunset supper on a cliff top. Of course, this was no simple basket with bread and cheese. The grand table where we sat seemed bizarrely out of place there, on the windy red-rock. The plates of sumptuous dishes and crystal vases of flowers contrasted with the wild desert spreading out beyond us. Álvar had said he wanted to take us some place quiet, away from the busy comings and goings of the Hacienda. Thankfully, we weren’t completely alone. A butler, two serving men, and a four-piece group of musicians joined us, though they kept their distance.

  “It’s the fanciest picnic I’ve ever been to,” I said.

  Álvar laughed. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

  I tried to smile and sipped a bit of my water.

  “Are you sure you would not care for some of this excellent champagne?”

  “No, thank you.”

  One of the serving men quietly removed my barely touched plate of food. I turned to thank him, but he had already moved away to the serving area they’d set up behind the carriage. Álvar was watching me when I turned back.

  He smiled, swirling his glass. “Would you like to take a little stroll? The ridge beyond that brush there offers an excellent view of the mountains.”

  My nerves were still on high alert, even though Álvar had behaved like nothing but a gentleman throughout our meal. I shot a glance at the carriage, but the servants remained well hidden. Even the musicians had retired, clearly noticing some secret sign from Álvar to leave us alone.

  “Come,” he said, holding out his arm. “It is a glorious view.”

  I stood, managing a weak smile. Álvar didn’t move his arm, and I knew what he expected, what any well-bred lady would do. Swallowing a dry gulp, I intertwined my arm in his.

  We followed a trail along the edge of the cliff, up an uneven hill covered with rocks and the bright orange flowers of ocotillo cactus. Finally we reached the highest point of the ledge.

  “Here we are,” Álvar said, planting his fists on his hips.

  The view that spread before us made me slow to a stop—a vast, sprawling expanse of red and orange and tiny brush strokes of deep green, all lit with the trembling golden light of sunset. The clouds and sky were painted like a massive rainbow: pink, orange, purple, and blue. Before us, the red-rock cliff fell down in a sheer drop of a hundred feet. And on the near horizon, closer than I’d ever seen them, the huge, dark outline of the Alkali Mountains rose like the backs of enormous sleeping dragons.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Álvar asked, walking to the very edge of the cliff to take it all in.

  I drew in a deep breath of the dry, floral-scented wind. “It’s incredible.”

  He sat on a cropping of smooth red-rock boulders nearby, the perfect place to appreciate the view. “I come here often,” he said. “To be alone. To think.”

  Emerson Bolger’s warning about Álvar’s catastrophic debts flashed in my mind. It didn’t surprise me that my benefactor needed a place to escape from it all. Surely every silver candelabra and velvet curtain and lavishly dressed footman in the Hacienda only reminded him of how quickly he could lose everything.

  I sat on the rocks beside Álvar, feeling a little sorry for him. “It must be difficult.”

  He shot me a quick look. “Difficult?”

  I realized my slip and scrambled to cover it up. “To run such a huge estate, with so many things to keep track of. So many things to go wrong.”

  Álvar smiled a little, though I saw a glint of sadness in his eyes. “It is difficult.”

  We looked out over the desert, which grew more blue-hued with the falling twilight. Maybe I had been too quick to judge Álvar. Everyone faced his or her own challenges. And we all did what we must to survive.

  “Are you enjoying yourself at my Hacienda, Maggie?” Álvar asked.

  I wasn’t sure what to say. “Yes.”

  He nodded. His next words were spoken with caution. “I hope you will be happy here, with me. I hope you and I might come to an understanding.”

  An understanding? My whole body tensed. Álvar pursed his lips with caution. “I have learned of some very important developments in recent days. And I will need you.”

  I relaxed slightly at the mention of my talents. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will in time,” he said carefully.

  His avoidance only brought the tension back to my chest. “I wish you’d tell me now. I’ve never understood what you want from me. You must be honest with me, Álvar. I beg of you.”

  Álvar was quiet for a long moment, then looked up at me, the hint of a smile on his lips.

  “As you wish. Do you know what I saw when I used the Djinn relic the other day?” He set his hand lightly to my chin. “I saw you.”

  My stomach turned to lead at his touch. He traced his finger down the line of my throat. I felt faint. “Please,” I said, moving away from him.

  Álvar nodded slowly. “I understand your hesitation, Maggie. You’re young. Perhaps afraid. But think of what I’m offering you.”

  My heart was racing. I didn’t tell him that I’d given it quite a bit of thought, more than I even liked to admit to myself. All my life I dreamed of more, so much more than I could do or see in my dusty old desert town. Álvar could give that to me. Once again, a vision of him and me, traveling the world together, discovering relics we’d never dreamed of seeing, sprang to my mind.

  Álvar brushed my hair over my shoulder, then slid my sleeve down. “Such beautiful skin,” he whispered. “Like silk.” His lips grazed my bare shoulder, then my throat. His arm slipped behind me, around my waist. The other hand pressed softly at the base of my collarbone.

  I couldn’t breathe. I backed away from his touch again. “I’ve offered my talents freely. I see no reason to…confuse our relationship.”

  Álvar’s lips turned ever so slightly up in a smile. “Ah yes. Your talents.” He spoke the words with a hint of irony that sent a ripple of alarm through me. Then he pulled me back into his arms, this time with force. “That’s not what I’m after at this moment, now is it?”

  He pressed his lips to my skin firmly. His hands gripped my waist and the back of my neck. He tilted my head back so his lips could travel down my throat, along my collarbone.

  A new vision came to me. One of a used-up mistress, cast aside to live in shame and doubt. Perhaps Álvar did think I had a talent with relics, but what would that matter in a few weeks, when my charms had grown tiresome to him? I’d have no grand future, no traveling the world. I’d be left alone, penniless, and with a mark on my reputation I could never remove.

  As Álvar’s hand slid up to undo the laces of my corset, a swell of shame rose in me. I had been a fool. A fool to convince myself that he was after anything more than the conquest. This talk of talents and studying relic almanacs, it was just part of the game for him. I’d known it all along, only I’d been too swept up with the dream to admit it to myself. That dream was now shattered on the rocks like glass.

  Gasping, I broke from Álvar’s grip and jumped to my feet.

  Álvar was breathing heavily, his face flushed. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t do this.”

  Álvar straightened. For a moment
, he said nothing, just brushed a lock of black hair from his brow. “You must pardon me,” he said finally, “if I made you uncomfortable at all. I would certainly never want you to feel anything but willing.” His words were polite enough, but a strained note of frustration tightened his voice.

  “I want to go back now,” I said, turning away from him.

  There was a crackling silence. My mouth felt dry as sand.

  Finally he spoke again. “But of course.” He stood and brushed off his coat. “We should head back to the Hacienda before it grows too dark.”

  “Yes.”

  We walked in silence down the hill, back to the carriage, where the servants were playing a game of poker on the rocks. They looked surprised to see us returning so soon. How many other women had Álvar brought up to this place to seduce? I was clearly one more petty conquest—just like everyone had known all along. I felt so ashamed, I could have cried, but I swallowed back the tears, refusing to look any more foolish.

  Trembling, I stepped inside the plush burgundy interior of Álvar’s carriage while outside, he spoke to his servants tersely in Spanish. My hands twisted a piece of my dress in my lap until it formed a tight ball as I struggled to get ahold of myself. I’d clearly angered Álvar by rejecting him. Broke or not, he was still the most powerful man in Burning Mesa, and I needed to try to end things as pleasantly as possible.

  But when Álvar finally came in, he didn’t even look in my direction. The silence as we started to move pressed down upon me, each second building like a pile of stones on my chest. I tried to look out the window, but night had fallen, and the sky was black as tar.

  I drew in a slow, shaky breath. “Álvar, please understand. While I respect you very much as a friend and teacher—”

  Álvar’s eyes, dark as the sky beyond the window, flashed at me. “Please. Spare me your forced sweetness.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  He raised a hand to silence me, and I clenched my jaw.

  “Perhaps you are a bit tired this evening?” Álvar asked, his eyes needling me. “Tired after your midnight tryst with my cowboy?”

  Ice cut through my veins.

  “Do not bother to deny it. Señor Connelly reported it to me first thing this morning. He saw you enter the Cooper Hotel himself.”

  I could now see exactly how close to the edge of my own cliff I was treading. Álvar knew about my visiting Landon. And if he truly only wanted me as a mistress, there could now be no doubt that he’d sent the boys away on purpose. Was he attempting to cut off any ties I still had to the world outside the Hacienda? My face felt hot.

  I met Álvar’s gaze now with equal fierceness. “And am I not allowed to speak with my friends without you shipping them off on some concocted task in a far-flung nowhere? I didn’t do anything wrong; you don’t need to treat me like I’m some kind of criminal.”

  “Do I not? You certainly act like one, sneaking around in the dead of night on my horses, in the clothes I gave you.”

  “And you’ve been so honest?” I asked, furious. “Filling my head with all sorts of lies about talents and relics and training, when all along, all you wanted was…” I couldn’t speak it. Shame and anger tore through me. “You took advantage of my youth,” I said, tears welling in my eyes in spite of myself. “You betrayed my trust.”

  Álvar stared at me, thoughts racing behind his eyes. “Maggie…I didn’t lie to you.”

  “You did, even if you don’t think so now. It was all one big game for you.” I pressed a tight fist to my lap. “I may be an insignificant nobody, but I’m not going to become your mistress of the moment. My sister and I will be leaving first thing in the morning.”

  Álvar laughed, indignant. “Oh, indeed?”

  “Yes. Indeed.”

  Suddenly Álvar was directly in front of me in the little cab of the carriage, one hand pressed against the back wall, right beside my head. His face was no more than a breath away from mine, and his eyes burned with an almost unnatural intensity that made my pulse race.

  “You listen to me, Maggie. I will be the one to say when this arrangement is over. Not you. You cannot bring your family to my estate, accept my help, and then tell me you are on your way. It doesn’t work like that. Do you understand? You owe me, Maggie. And I will collect on that debt.”

  I couldn’t speak. Álvar drew in a breath and sat back on his side of the cab. He turned his gaze to the window for a moment, to compose himself. “Forgive me,” he said after a pause, his voice stiff, “if I spoke too boldly.”

  He kept his gaze on the dark landscape rushing past us. “You would be wise, however, not to upset me as you did tonight. For your sister’s sake, if not your own.”

  My heart was racing, but I said nothing. There was nothing further to discuss. His meaning couldn’t have been clearer: I was a fool to think I could play this game on my terms. Álvar Castilla would have what he wanted…or I would never see Ella again.

  Chapter Thirty

  I concealed my distress as best I could when we arrived back at the Hacienda. Álvar left the carriage without a word, but his servant led me to my room as if nothing had changed. I let Esperanza help me out of the gown, but after she left my room, instead of changing into sleeping clothes, I hurriedly dressed in my own old burgundy dress. I then sat on the edge of Ella’s bed, watching her sleep, my mind awhirl.

  We needed to escape. Now. Tonight. I could get out of the Hacienda easily enough, but would that be the end of it? With Álvar’s men everywhere, I could hardly try and make a different life here in Burning Mesa. No, the more I thought about it, the clearer it became that my only option was to escape as far away as possible, as soon as possible.

  I tried to breathe slowly and stay calm, but my heart pounded at the thought of leaving. I didn’t know where we’d go, but maybe it didn’t matter. We’d make it through somehow. Of course, I had to be smart about it, because Álvar’s and Connelly’s eyes watched from every direction.

  I paced my room, deep in thought, watching my candle grow smaller and smaller. The comings and goings of the Hacienda softened to silence. I had just packed a small bag when the muffled sound of men’s voices drifted in from the other side of my door. Men’s voices and footsteps—a lot of them.

  I tiptoed closer and listened. It was a group. The glow from their lanterns stretched in beneath the crease of the doorframe, and my heart froze. Was Emerson Bolger finally making his attack on Álvar? Was the Hacienda about to burn to the ground like Haydenville?

  Trembling, I opened the door and peered down the hallway. The orange light of the lanterns had just rounded the corner. My pulse throbbing, I slipped out after them. I wouldn’t stay there to die in my bed. If Ella and I needed to run for our lives yet again, I wanted to know.

  I slid down the darkened hall, knowing that if I were seen, it would mean the end of me.

  I followed the glow of the men’s lanterns until they stopped. They stood just around a second corner, their low voices rumbling the surface of the wall I was pressed against.

  Álvar’s voice drifted through the murmur like silk. My face snapped up in surprise. Álvar? An irresistible force compelled me to look, to confirm if he really was there. I slid my face past the wall a fraction of an inch, then another.

  The light of the lanterns gleamed at me. Down the hallway, the men crammed into a small, decorative anteroom, no more than a dead end with some art on the walls and a small marble vase of flowers. Álvar stood at the inner edge. He lifted his lantern, scanned behind their group, and then set his hand against the wall. A hidden panel slid open like a door. Quietly, the men filed into the dark hallway that the panel had been hiding.

  I didn’t move until long after they’d gone. What on earth were they up to? It seemed dangerous and stupid, but I found myself walking to the little anteroom. The wall completely concealed the place where the panel had opened. I smoothed my hand over, but nothing stood out from the smooth stone. Perhaps Álvar had used a relic to release a trap do
or. It was dark; I might have not noticed.

  As I stared at the enigmatic wall, a dark feeling gripped my heart. I thought of the razings with a cold shiver, but I cast the notion away. Impossible. Álvar was a deeply flawed man, but the kind of man who would burn entire towns full of innocent people to the ground? He wasn’t evil, that much I knew. In another life, if he’d been raised on a farm, working and having the simple things of life like I had, he might have been a lot like Landon.

  I rubbed a shiver from my arms and turned away from the anteroom. Whatever Álvar was up to, I wanted nothing to do with it. By the next sunset, Ella and I would be on a train, traveling farther from Burning Mesa and Álvar Castilla every moment.

  I sat on a stallion from the Hacienda, watching the door to the sheriff’s office. It was a bright, windy morning, with a brilliant blue sky. I wished it were raining. I stared at the office and didn’t move.

  Yahn, I’ve failed you.

  Part of me longed to go in, to see him one last time. To say good-bye and ask his forgiveness. But I knew I didn’t deserve closure. I had failed to help Yahn, and I would carry the guilt the rest of my life.

  My heart felt like a stone in my chest as I pulled the reins to urge my horse away. I didn’t look back as I rode. For Ella’s sake, I had to move forward.

  And I had to hurry. Train tickets needed to be purchased, and I had a single good-bye on my list: Adelaide. The thought alone made my heart break. When I came to her door, however, she was packing her own trunk. I halted in surprise.

  She was smoothing out one of her gowns, but she quickly caught sight of me. “Maggie!” she cried. “Good Lord, am I happy to see you!” She rushed over and flung her arms around me.

  “You’re leaving?” I asked.

  She broke from our embrace. Her blue eyes shone with a happiness that confused me even more. “What’s going on, Adelaide? Tell me!”

  “Oh, it’s so wonderful. I can hardly believe it.” She grabbed something from her dresser. “Look, a telegraph from Bobby. He’s in a town called Green Springs. He says he can’t live without me anymore. He wants to marry me, Maggie. Soon as possible.”