Wayward Lady

by Nan Ryan

  Suzette wrapped the sheet loosely over her breasts. Her eyes on Kaytano, she rose and edged over to his trousers. Still looking at the sleeping man, she slid her fingers deep into a pocket. Almost laughing aloud, she gripped the cold key and brought it out, holding it up to her face. Impulsively kissing the metal that meant her escape, she clasped it tightly and went down on her knees. She crept close to Kaytano’s bed, silently cursing the sheet that slowed her progress.

  She was beside his bed, so close to Kaytano she could hear his steady breathing. One of his brown shoulders almost touched the trousers. For a time Suzette sat, gripping her sheet, staring at her clothes. Knowing it would never grow easier, she put a tentative hand over his head and let her fingers touch the plaid shirt. Then she screamed.

  A warm brown hand touched her bare shoulder. Drawing back in horror, Suzette dropped the shirt and the sheet. Kaytano said coldly, “Sleep-walking?” His face was inches from her own and his hand lightly gripped her shoulder. Suzette looked into his eyes, terrified. His gaze held hers as he reached down and slowly pulled the sheet up over her bare breasts. “A good thing I’m a gentleman. A baser man might be tempted to…”

  With a shriek she twisted away from him. Lunging back to her bed, she lay shaking with fear and rage. Kaytano, his weight supported on an elbow, watched her. “Calm down,” he cautioned. “I’m not angry that you were trying to escape.” He reached to the floor and picked up the key. “You’ll learn you’ve no chance of getting away from me, but I do admire your spirit. A prisoner should try to escape. I’d do the same thing in your place.” He flipped the key noisily to the table between them and lay down, his hands under his head. “Perhaps you’ve been cooped up too long. Tomorrow I’ll take you for a walk.”

  Suzette didn’t reply. She was furious that he’d outwitted her, and even more furious when, only minutes later, the heartless man in the bed next to her was sleeping peacefully.

  The next morning dawned unusually cold in the canyon. Suzette’s eyes opened to see Kaytano spreading a warm quilt over her. He wore a pair of tight buckskin breeches and a fringed shirt to match. Thinking sleepily that the man was a constant surprise, she sighed and snuggled down into the bed and went back to sleep. Later, as she helped serve the noon meal, she glanced at Kaytano and wondered if he still intended to take her for a walk. She longed to get outside for a while, even in his company, so she smiled at him, hoping he’d recall his promise.

  Kaytano didn’t return the smile. His dark eyes locked on her, but she saw a look of censure there, so she lowered her eyes. She didn’t look at him again and sighed with relief when the meal ended and he drifted outdoors with the other men.

  Her kitchen chores completed, Suzette returned to her room. The chill of the morning had disappeared and it was warm in the little room. Outside the sun shone brightly. A gentle breeze stirred the curtains. Sighing heavily, Suzette went to the window. On the long, sunny porch, several of the men sat smoking, their voices rising and falling. As she always did, Suzette looked about for her captor. When she located him, her eyes never left him.

  Kaytano had taken off the heavy fringed shirt. Bare-chested, he sat with his back against a post, facing her. His long legs were crossed at the ankles, and his skintight breeches were laced at the fly with rawhide strips tied in a loose knot at his waist. He was lighting a cigar and his bare, brown arms rippled with delicate muscles. His dark chest was shiny and smooth. Slim yet powerful, his torso tapered gracefully to a trim, hard abdomen.

  He was speaking, though she couldn’t hear what he said. He took the cigar from his teeth, and for the first time ever Suzette saw Kaytano smile broadly. Amazed at how the smile softened his hard, handsome features, she stared unbelieving as his satiny chest shook with laughter. When she realized she was smiling also, she felt foolish and confused. Her smile faded, but she continued to look at Kaytano.

  A fat, furry cat sidled up to him. His brown hand shot out and grabbed the cat, teasing the feline by tickling her head. The cat, which paid little attention to Kaytano’s hand, seemed fascinated with the rawhide laces at his crotch. The cat pawed and pulled at the laces, all the while making growling noises deep in her throat.

  When Kaytano had had enough, he brought a brown hand down to pull the cat onto his lap, stroking its fur with long fingers. Immediately the cat settled into his lap and was soon purring.

  Suzette watched the pair and became inexplicably irritated. Suddenly she whirled away from the window, ground her teeth, and crossed the room to her bed. Throwing herself down onto it, she lay on her back and felt restless, unnerved, upset. She closed her eyes.

  The unsettling sensual picture of the dark, handsome, half-naked Kaytano tenderly stroking the purring kitten with his long, lean, brown fingers made her eyes fly open. To her dismay her pulse was speeding and her stomach tightened, causing her hand to fly to her midsection. She lay staring up at the ceiling while perspiration popped out on her upper lip, along her hairline, and between her breasts. She felt confused. And afraid. And guilty. She turned onto her stomach and cried. “Austin,” she murmured into her pillow, “please come for me. Austin, Austin.”

  At supper Suzette avoided Kaytano, refusing to look at him after the first sweeping glance she gave the men around the table. Kaytano wore a clean white shirt and a black leather vest, accentuating his dark hair and eyes. Assuring herself she cared not at all what he wore, Suzette served the food without making eye contact with him. Relieved when she saw him going out the front door, she went about clearing the dishes away, anxious to be finished so she could go back to the privacy of her small, airless room.

  Maria, washing the last large platter, snapped the silent Suzette out of her reveries when she smiled and said, “Suzette, Kaytano tell me that if you like, he let you go for a walk in back courtyard.”

  Suzette looked incredulously at Maria. “When?”

  “As soon as we finish.” Maria beamed.

  “With whom, Maria? Kaytano?”

  “No, señora. Kaytano say you can go alone if you stay only in back courtyard.”

  More excited than she wanted Maria to know, Suzette kept her voice even. “There must be some mistake. You’re sure Kaytano told you I can go out alone?”

  Maria raised a chubby, wet hand. “Yes, yes. You see that back door? Outside there is private fenced yard, separate from others. It is nice and big, good for walk on spring night.”

  “Maria, I do want to go outdoors. Will you tell Kaytano I am very grateful to him?”

  “Why you not tell him yourself?” Her brown face reddening, Maria giggled and whispered, “For two young pretty people who are…ah…you and Kaytano talk little. I do not understand.”

  “Maria, you have it wrong. Kaytano and I—”

  “Please”—Maria wiggled out of her apron—“do not disclose all your secrets. I know how it is between man and his woman. Before my husband die, we were foolish lovers too. Now, go enjoy yourself before darkness comes.”

  Suzette tossed the damp dish towel over a chair and went to the back door. “’Night, Maria.” She smiled and slipped outdoors. Stepping off the porch, she inhaled deeply, thinking how wonderful it was to be outside and alone. She smiled and sauntered out into the big fenced yard, her eyes on the fading pinks and lilacs of the western sky. She walked about slowly, enjoying the close of the spring day while a chill crept into the night air.

  When she heard a horse whinny nearby, she stopped walking and cocked her head. Again she heard the sound, followed by hooves pounding the hard earth. Her interest aroused, she hurried in the direction of the sounds. She was in back of the buildings; it must be the stables. With a quick surge of hope, Suzette envisioned herself slipping into the stables, picking a gentle horse from the remuda, and galloping away into the night.

  Looking about to be certain she was not being watched, Suzette hurried across the courtyard to the back fence. She saw a gate, and to her surprise, when she pulled the latch it swung open easily. A corral of split rails
was no more than fifty yards away. Suzette rushed toward the rising fence; through the boards she could see the horse. It was big and black. The beast Kaytano rode. The horse called Darkness.

  The black stallion was the only horse in the corral. Sighing, Suzette spun around, looking for other corrals, other horses. She saw none. It was this big brute or nothing. There was little time to consider other possibilities. The black stallion was huge and powerful and Suzette cringed at the thought of riding it, especially bareback, but she had no choice. If she could manage to get on him, she’d stay on his back somehow. Twilight was closing in swiftly. Suzette searched for a gate, found it, and frowned. It was locked. Biting her lip, she wondered if Kaytano held the only key.

  Undaunted, she put her hands on the split rails and began her climb. Splinters pierced her red, chapped hands, but Suzette clung to the fence, stepping up on the first rung. She looked up to the top and wondered why it was necessary for it to be so high.

  Across the darkened corral, the red glow of a cigar briefly lighted the dark, unsmiling face of Kaytano. He watched Suzette through the fence as she grunted and struggled to the top. He was leaning against the corral, a knee bent, heel hooked on the bottom rung of the fence. When her golden head finally appeared over the top plank, Kaytano gently sighed and reached for a lariat looped over a nearby pole. Cigar clamped between his teeth, he slowly and surely began to swing the riata. Suzette sat astride the fence now and called to the big black steed. It pricked up its ears and studied the intruder.

  “Come on, boy,” Suzette whispered. “I won’t hurt you. Here, Darkness,” she called to the prancing horse.

  Darkness, curious and playful, started across the corral, tossing his long mane, whinnying loudly. “That’s right, Darkness.” Suzette smiled happily. “Come here to me. Yes, boy, yes.” Sensing freedom was at last within her grasp, Suzette suppressed a laugh as the big black horse cantered over to her.

  Her scream shattered the stillness. Squirming, she fought to maintain her balance, gripping the roughhewn fence while a rope pinned her arms to her sides. Out of the darkness, Kaytano walked across the corral, speaking to his horse as he came.

  “It’s all right, Darkness.” The powerful beast halted and went to meet his master. Nuzzling Kaytano’s shoulder with his velvet muzzle, Darkness walked alongside him. The dark man and dark horse were bearing down on the frightened girl clinging to the fence.

  When they reached her, Kaytano lifted Suzette from the fence onto Darkness’s bare back. In one fluid movement, Kaytano climbed on behind her. Into her ear, he said, “I had no idea you were so anxious to ride. Had you told me, I’d have taken you before now. Perhaps it isn’t too late.” He gently raised the rope up over her head and tossed it over the fence.

  Kaytano’s hands were on her shoulders now. His right one slowly slid around to her throat, his fingers spreading, gently forcing her head back against his shoulder. His lips near her ear, his warm breath stirring wisps of her hair, he said in a soft voice, “I suggest you hold on to me or to Darkness’s mane. You want to ride and we wish to oblige you.”

  He lowered his hands to his thighs. Gently he kicked the horse’s belly. Dutifully the horse headed for the gate, turning sideways when he reached it. Kaytano unlocked it and spoke to the horse. Outside, Suzette, refusing to speak to the arrogant Kaytano, felt his long arm come around her as he reached for a handful of Darkness’s mane. Knowing full well he intended to gallop at breakneck speed in the thickening darkness, Suzette leaned forward and grasped the horse’s mane with both hands.

  “Now, Darkness,” came Kaytano’s soft-spoken command. The big horse bolted.

  Her tears drying, her heart pounding with fear and excitement, Suzette felt the cool wind whip her hair and sting her cheeks, invigorating her. Wondering briefly if she’d gone completely mad, Suzette threw back her head and breathed deeply. With a feeling close to gratitude, she smiled when Kaytano’s dark left hand went to her waist to press her back against him. Releasing her hold on Darkness’s mane, she leaned back, molding herself to Kaytano. Knowing that he’d never let her fall, Suzette clung to his strong arm and let the joy of the ride, the night, the spring, and the excitement wash over her.

  Across the canyon floor they thundered under a rising moon, and Suzette forgot that she was a captive, a prisoner, a helpless white woman held by an Indian outlaw. For now she was a carefree, thrill-seeking, free woman riding in the moonlight with a daring, handsome man eager to show her a good time.

  For a while they were equals, she and Kaytano—young, healthy, happy, and enjoying every minute of their moonlight adventure.

  27

  Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and still Suzette was held prisoner at Robber’s Roost deep inside Santa Elena Canyon in the Big Bend of the Rio Grande River. In a land with a reputation for its brutality, hardness, and violence, Suzette was the prisoner of Kaytano, whose reputation matched that of the wild country.

  Suzette had tried time and again to find out if Kaytano had contacted Austin. Each time she’d questioned him, all she got was a cool nod and his assurance that she would soon be going home. She clung to hope, but instinct told her that her captivity was strange. Her presence in this remote place with a robber band was much more than a ransom demand. And she knew her husband. If Austin had been contacted and quoted a price, he would have paid off Kaytano and taken her home by now. Still, she couldn’t solve the puzzle and more than once she recalled Austin’s strange reactions to the stories about Kaytano in the newspapers. Did the two men know each other? It didn’t seem likely; Kaytano was no more than a couple of years older than Suzette. Where could they have met? That couldn’t be it.

  It was baffling to Suzette that she was as yet unharmed, though she felt no real security. Kaytano was the strangest of men. The enigmatic half-breed was beyond her understanding. To take her continued safety for granted would be foolish; the impenetrable outlaw never behaved as expected. So she remained respectfully wary of the slim, aristocratic-looking Indian.

  Fear of Kaytano caused Suzette to adopt some of his traits; she was withdrawn, aloof, and uncomplaining. She still cried for Austin, but she contained those tears until Kaytano was asleep. Only then did she bury her face in her pillow and weep with despair and longing for her good-natured, affectionate husband.

  Her days were busy; she was required to help Maria with much of the work. On a warm, still day near June’s end, she sat on the back steps with Maria peeling apples. The afternoon would be spent in the hot kitchen, baking pies for the evening meal. Dreading the thought of going back inside, Suzette, her thick blond hair clinging to her clammy neck, sighed. “What I’d give to go over to that clear, cool creek. It’s so hot today. Can you imagine how it would feel to strip and fall into the water?” She dropped an apple into Maria’s big pan.

  “Ah, sí,” Maria bobbed her head. “That is Terlingua Creek. Is beautiful, but cold. You would freeze, Suzette.”

  “Umm. No matter, it’s impossible.” Suzette sighed heavily and picked up another apple.

  “All things are possible.” Kaytano’s deep voice came from the doorway. Suzette jerked her head around. He stood looking down at her, his expression one of wry amusement and as unsettling as his iciness. Why should he find it comical that she longed to cool herself in the creek? He came outside and slowly dropped into a crouch next to Suzette. Taking the unpeeled apple from her hand, he took a bite, chewed slowly, and said, “You may go to the creek in exactly one hour. I will alert my men so that your privacy is assured.” He took another bite of the apple and looked at her from under lowered lids.

  Suzette stared at him openmouthed. Maria ducked her head and smiled; the two young people were looking into each other’s eyes and she was an intruder. Maria had taken for granted the two were lovers. They slept in the same room and she assumed that Kaytano, though he’d hurt Suzette that first night, had long since wooed and won her. Maria reckoned that Kaytano and Suzette were silently communicating now; h
e was telling her that they would meet at the creek.

  Maria rose from the steps. “I go do my baking.”

  Neither Suzette nor Kaytano responded. They were still looking at each other. Finally Suzette said, “You mean it? I can spend the afternoon alone?”

  “Yes.” He rose behind her. “Be very careful.”

  She jumped up from the steps. “I will, I promise. Thank you, Kaytano.” She smiled at him, took the half-eaten apple from his hand, took a big bite, and hurried past him into the kitchen. Kaytano turned to look out over the courtyard. He was smiling.

  Suzette hummed as she made her way across the canyon floor. The afternoon was clear and hot and Suzette felt her spirits soar. Inhaling deeply, she felt more alive than she had since the night of their wild horseback ride in the moonlight. The memory of that night brought a flush to her cheeks, as it always did, and Suzette shook her head as if to banish it from her thoughts. Hairbrush, soap, and towel in hand, she skipped along, determined to let nothing ruin her day.

  At the creek, Suzette took in the spring flowers, the grass, and the deep shade. The sparkling water rushing over the mossy rocks looked so inviting that Suzette could hardly wait to get undressed. Dropping her things on the grass, she kicked off her moccasins and hurried to the water’s edge. She stopped, looked all about her, then cocked her head to one side, listening. Confident she was alone, Suzette whooped happily and yanked at the buttons of her shirt. In seconds it was on the ground. Laughing, she unbuttoned and wiggled out of the tight trousers, then tossed them aside. Wonderfully bare, she stood on a smooth rock on the banks of the creek and let the hot June sun beat down on her. Purposely delaying the plunge until she felt uncomfortably warm, Suzette waited, body arched, hands holding her thick hair up off her neck, her eyes closed.