A Western Romance: James Yancey - Taking the High Road (Book 3) (Taking the High Road series)

by Morris Fenris

  “If only everybody could be that lucky,” murmured John, from across the table. “You’ve turned out to be a surprisin’ woman, Miss Palmer.”

  Another giggle. “I thank you for recognizin’ that, Mr. Yancey.”

  Benito, seated beside Emma and not wanting to intrude on what seemed to be a private dialogue, yet anxious to follow his madre’s wishes, poked his head around his intended bride to make sure the brothers planned on staying the night.

  “Why, please tell your mother that we appreciate the offer, but it ain’t—”

  “Of course they’ll stay the night, Benito,” Emma cut in without a qualm. “What else are they gonna do, ride back home, all that way, in the dark?”

  What Mama Alfaro wanted, Mama Alfaro got.

  Much later, James was able to pull his host aside for a walk-and-talk outside, around the hacienda. There he explained what had happened with Benito’s sister, apologized profusely for any apparent wrongdoing, and asked for some advice.

  “Oh, Señor Jim,” said Benito in a mournful tone. “Señor Jim. It is I who must apologize to you.”

  The Southerner nearly dropped his hat. “T’ me? Why?”

  “My family—all of us, here—we have no relationship with my sister. As you know, I travel to see her, every few months, at mi madre’s request. In spite of everything, Mamacita still worries about her oldest daughter.”

  James was feeling more and more puzzled. “In spite of everything?”

  Light from the rising full moon shone down on the prosperous rancho, painting every detail of barns and buildings in white, adding shadows here and there, casting an air of benevolence and good will over all. Benito had paused near the entrance to the flower gardens, Emma’s favorite spot, he confided to her former betrothed.

  “Here. Sit, please. Join me.”

  Rosa, Benito went on to explain, had always been a wild one. Crazy for boys. Disobeying her parents. Daring any escapade, just for the adventure. At the age of fourteen, she had given birth to a child.

  “Fourteen!” repeated James, aghast.

  “Sí. It broke Mamacita’s heart. She kept the baby girl here, as one of our own, and arranged to have Rosa taken in by a convent. To no avail. Rosa simply ran away with the gardener. Over my father’s objections, she returned home.”

  “And?”

  Benito shrugged. “A change in her behavior only for the worse. Drinking, Señor. Lying. Lewdness. At eighteen, another child, a little boy. And then we discovered she had joined a cult of some kind. Las brujas.” He paused, with an upward glance.”You know this word?”

  “I can guess,” said James, uncomfortably aware of how trusting he had been. How easy a mark for this experienced barracuda.

  “She is gone from our hacienda for good now. Once, when she needed money, she let me know where she was living. The Condor Ranch, Señor. And so, as I say, I have tried to see her on occasion, for my mother’s sake. But I must warn you, with the black arts she has learned, Rosa could be a danger to those around her.”

  “Reckon she already has been,” James muttered. “Huh. La bruja.” Good thing Molly had taken off when she did. Who knew what harm Rosa might have caused, in the determined pursuit of her target?

  “I regret you have had to deal with these problems, Señor. If I may suggest…perhaps it is time for Rosa to move on?”

  A moment for consideration. Then: “Dunno. Think maybe I got an alternative t’ that. Anyway, thanks for helpin’ me out here, Benito.”

  “Is no trouble. Truly.”

  “Benito.”

  “Sí, Señor.”

  “Lissen, you’re gonna take good care of her, aren’cha?”

  The flash of a brilliant smile. “I will, Señor. You have my word of honor.”

  “Okay, then. Another thing. You may’s well drop this Señor stuff. Just call me Jim. ’Cause it looks like we’ll end up kinda bein’ family, in a way.”

  A night of well-earned slumber in the Alfaros’ finest spare room, a brisk morning wash and a hearty breakfast, and the Yancey brothers were ready to make their way home. The whole family joined in the front patio to see them off.

  “Here, Jim.” Emma interrupted the departure to hand over a long heavy package, bound up with string. “You watch over that, and you give it to Molly next time you see her. Y’ hear?”

  Puzzled but resigned, James nodded. The bag was lashed securely behind him, onto his bedroll, for the trip home.

  “And y’all are comin’ back for our weddin’ now, right?”

  Grinning like a baboon, John agreed. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, honey child.” He flung a mischievous glance toward his brother. “Would we, Jimbo?”

  “Not a bit, Pinkerton man. So long. Nice meetin’ all of you, and thanks again for your hospitality.” A touch to the brim of James’ hat, and they were on their way.

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  If James had been the prodigal son returning to eat a fatted calf, Rosa could have welcomed him no more effusively.

  “Señor! You have come back!” was her greeting at the front door.

  “Well, yeah, kinda,” James admitted mildly. “I live here.”

  With so many lawmen in the family, and adjunct to it, for reference, the brothers had discussed, sorted out, and finalized their arrangements for dealing with this she-cobra.

  “You got any food around the place, Rosa?” James asked plaintively, shaking the dust from his hat and scraping his boots before he entered. “Haven’t had anything t’ eat in a long while, and I’m starvin’.”

  “Of course, Mr. James. Right away.”

  “Oh, and Rosa—” as she made ready to scurry away, “whyn’t you get yourself a plate, too, and c’mon in and join me? I’d kinda like the comp’ny, if you don’t have anything else t’ do right now.”

  Rosa was nearly dancing with glee. “I would be delighted, Señor. Un momento, por favor.”

  For some time they lingered over a mid-afternoon meal of delicious beef stew and sourdough bread, talking of this and that. James wanted to know what had been happening around the ranch while he’d been gone these two days.

  “And I wanna thank you for takin’ over things, as you have done,” he added. Leaning one elbow on the table top, he looked across at her, while she spooned up vegetables, and smiled with every bit of good ol’ boy Southern charm in his veins.

  “Is my pleasure to do so, Mr. James,” she simpered. “Just to help you out.”

  “Yeah, I know. But you went above and beyond, far’s I’m concerned.” Had she ever! “You do this for every fam’ly you worked for, or am I just the lucky one?”

  “Lucky, sí. But me, too. Lucky I have work for you, yes?”

  “Dunno.” James let his voice go all low and husky. “Wonderin’ if maybe we could—uh—pick up where we left off, the other night.”

  A look deliberately vague crossed her face and she put down her spoon. “The other night?”

  “Uh-huh.” He scooted the heavy chair closer in order to lay one hand over hers. “Had us a good time, didn’t we? So I was thinkin’, we oughta go on from there, doncha b’lieve?”

  Her head came up; all the pride of her ancestors showed in the curl of her lip and the flash of her eyes. “You want what we had before?”

  “Well—yeah. Seems like we both enjoyed it. And I’m ready for more. This could be a nice li’l affair on the side, Rosa. Especially since we’ve already done the deed.”

  “Done the deed?” she faltered.

  “Sure ’nough. Now, if you come along and told me nothin’ happened, it was all a mistake and you ain’t been touched, why, then we could get married. I don’t want a bride that’s already used beforehand, y’ see—even by me. I want one that’s fresh and clean. But, since that part ain’t true…” His words trailed off, casual, off-chance.

  “Married? Married, in fact?” Her whole posture, bent toward him, betrayed her eagerness. “But is true, that part. Is true, no touching. I swear.”


  He chuckled. “Oh, now, Rosa, you’re just sayin’ that t’ get out o’ havin’ me with you t’night. C’mere, girl, I got a lotta lovin’ stored up.” A grasp of Rosa’s arm only had her pulling away.

  “No, no, we did nothing. I tell you real, Señor. Nothing happened. We be married now, yes?”

  “Don’t quite figure how I’m s’posed t’ b’lieve that, when you already told me otherwise.”

  Almost frantically she turned toward him, determined to make her case. “That part—pah! A lie. This part, I explain, so you will see. Your wine, it was drugged. You drank a little, you fell asleep. And then I undressed both of us, and pretended you had had your way with me.” She giggled suddenly. “That woman—that Molly…she thought the worst of you.”

  “Yes. She certainly did.”

  “Just a sleeping potion, no harm done.”

  “That’s open to debate,” said John from the doorway. In his hand he held a small canvas bag, tied up with ribbon that he was slowly swinging back and forth.

  Rosa’s startled, frightened gaze swerved from the Pinkerton man’s hardened expression to the pouch and back again. “Mine,” she proclaimed. “What you do with my things?”

  “Hang you, I think.”

  Trembling, she shoved back her chair and stood, ready to run. Except that James clamped down on her wrist, holding her firm and tight.

  “Gotcha dead t’ rights, Rosa, my sweet,” chanted John, approaching. “Our plan worked, Jimbo. While you were here makin’ nice with our witch lady, I searched her room. Here’s what she poured int’ your drink. God knows what it is. Pretty fair evidence for her trial, I’d reckon.”

  “Trial? Oh, no, Señores, please…”

  “I’d reckon, too.” Grimly James looked her over, up and down. “Time t’ leave, Rosa. We’re all of us headin’ int’ town, where I plan to press charges and plunk your pretty little ass behind bars.”

  The card she played now was one of piteous abandonment. As James dragged her away, Rosa implored, “Does this mean you have decide no marriage to me?”

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  “But—all of this—it’s incredible,” Molly said faintly.

  “Better believe it.”

  First stop after their hour’s ride into town was the San Francisco city jail, where James filed his formal complaint and John handed over the evidence to Matthew for safekeeping. Then Rosa was plunked, as promised, behind bars, to await trial.

  Outside, James shook the hands of both his brothers. “I thank you for helpin’ me out all along the way. Dunno what I woulda done without either of you. Now all I have t’ do is convince Molly of the truth.”

  “Aw, hell, Jimmy, just be sure we’re invited to the weddin’,” chortled John. “Headin’ home now. Cecelia must be wonderin’ if I fell off the face of the earth.”

  “Me, too, shortly,” Matthew agreed. “Don’t like bein’ too far away, with Star the way she is.”

  “I think your big event may be next on this family’s docket, even before my nuptials.”

  Matthew grinned. “Depends on how fast you get around to it, Jim.”

  Next stop was the Goddard house. There James bulled his way into the kitchen, past all barriers, where everyone had just settled down to an early supper.

  “Why—James!” Frances looked up in astonishment. “What brings you here?”

  “Molly.”

  She stuck her pretty little freckled nose into the air, with disdain. “Well, I never—”

  “If you ain’t yet, you damn well will soon.”

  Grabbing her arm, he pulled Molly bodily from her chair and into the dim-lit parlor, for at least a semblance of privacy. She sat stiffly erect on the horsehair sofa, waiting for him to start and finish, wanting only to get this painful episode done and over.

  “So, Molly.” James did his best thinking and talking on his feet, moving about. No sitting still, when energy must be expended. “Got a lot t’ tell you. I’m hopin’ you’ll hear me out.”

  The small sideways sweep of one hand indicated permission to continue.

  Encouraged, he began with the discovery of Emma’s note, continued with Rosa’s terribly destructive role-playing, carried on with John’s unexpected visit and their subsequent trip to the Alfaro ranch, and ended with James’ own successful stab at role-playing to expose Rosa’s lies.

  James suddenly collapsed into an overstuffed chair, exhausted not only by all that had happened in the last few days but by his telling of it.

  For a long silent moment, while subdued conversation droned in the kitchen background, and cutlery clinked against china plates, Molly could only stare at him.

  His smile held a weary tenderness. “Say somethin’, darlin’.”

  Still silent. Then: “Something.”

  “Ah. That’s my girl. Molly.” Tentative, he asked, “You are still my girl, aren’cha?”

  She lifted one shoulder in an elaborate shrug. A shoulder dressed in, he noticed, a quite seductive bit of frippery that bared a lot of curves and shadows. “Oh, I suppose so, since no one else has come along to ask me.”

  James laughed aloud. “Good thing, then. I’d hate havin’ to kill a rival.” Without waiting for an invitation, he climbed out of the too-comfortable chair, crossed the room, and settled himself snugly in beside her. One arm snaked around her waist; the other lodged itself tight and firm beneath her bosom, as support. “Whatcha got there, darlin’?” he asked, peering down.

  “Maybe you should—look closer, and—find out…” Molly whispered bravely.

  “Nope. Not here, and not now. But later, I promise you. Meanwhile, we got us a little bit o’ business t’ take care of.”

  “Business?” Disappointment rang through her voice.

  “Ahuh. I b’lieve this mighta been mentioned earlier, but I need t’ do it up right.” He lifted her hand to his lips for a gentle nuzzle, then wrapped their fingers together. “Molly Buchanan, I love you more than life itself. Will you do me the great honor of becomin’ my wife?”

  Tears. More tears. “I think that answer might be—yes.”

  All the stars of heaven suddenly burst into light; and James, grinning hugely, could have sworn he heard celestial angels singing an alleluia somewhere up above. And then, unexpectedly and embarrassingly, he yawned, admitting that, “Goddamn, but I’m tired. Seems like I’ve been sittin’ my backside in a saddle for a solid week. Can’t wait to fall int’ a bed somewhere.”

  Molly waited just a beat, then suggested, “Mine.”

  “Ho, ho!” He pulled her into his embrace with more roughness than gentility and kissed her hard, with rising passion. And great expertise. What satisfaction to have her return the same. “Soon enough, sweetheart.” Another kiss, more gentle this time, as if to draw the very soul from her body and add it to his. “Oh. Almost forgot. Emma sent along somethin’ for you.”

  Over the increased tempo of her heartbeat she looked up at him. “Emma did?”

  “Ahuh. Dunno what. The package is a-layin’ over there, waitin’ for you.”

  A minute ticked by before she said, “Jim.”

  “Yes, my dearest girl.”

  “Really, truly, honestly—nothing happened between you and Rosa?”

  “Nothin’, Molly. I swear it.”

  A pause, as if she were thinking that over. “Good thing, then,” she said at last, composedly. “I’d hate having to kill a rival.”

  X

  “What an absolutely beautiful bride.” Frances Goddard was wiping away tears of joy. Even an old-maid teacher is allowed to feel that spark of romance at a friend’s wedding. “And what a lovely ceremony.”

  “It certainly was,” agreed Sarah, sitting beside her on the padded church pew. “And what an unusual dress.”

  “Emma and Benito gifted it to her, wasn’t that nice? The black lack mantilla looks striking against Molly’s red hair, and that embroidered gold cloth of her gown suits her coloring. Much more elaborate than she usually wears, but that
’s as it should be at a time like this. And Jim looked beside himself with happiness, didn’t he?”

  On the other side, William tucked his wife’s hand possessively into his. “You doin’ okay, honey? Not too tired? Not too hungry?”

  Sarah chuckled. “Will, you mustn’t worry so. I’m fine, honestly. And the baby isn’t due for another five months, anyway.”

  Glancing around the crowded sanctuary, Frances noted aloud that all of the Yancey brothers were in attendance once more. “That surely is a close-knit family,” she observed.

  “Oh, I’m glad to see that John and Cecelia brought the twins today,” Sarah pointed out. “Those two are such fun, and we don’t get to see them often enough. I think they must keep Cecie quite busy.”

  The bridal couple were waiting in the back of the church to greet their guests and receive hugs and kisses of congratulations. Afterward, the crowd would be dispersed for a party at the newest hotel in town, The Hermosa San Francisco.

  In the very last pew, the twin Yancey brothers exchanged a look. This marriage business was contagious. So far three of their siblings had fallen prey to the ailment. Oh, sure, all the new husbands seemed contented enough about the whole thing. Maybe even pleased. Maybe even more than that: elated.

  But Thomas and Travis weren’t about to get caught in that trap. They had plans for the future, big plans. And those plans didn’t include wives. They were lone wolves, scouting along on their own.

  Meanwhile, they’d go give their best to good ol’ Jimmy and their lively new sister-in-law, Molly. Better try to keep them apart for a little while. The way they were ogling each other, someone was about to have their clothes ripped off them—right here on sacred property—and the boys weren’t sure which half of the bridal couple would start ripping first.

  The End

  Thank You

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