Wayward Lady

by Nan Ryan

  The playful kisses continued and his hunger for her grew. He was kissing her longer, nipping at her soft bottom lip, holding her closer. She was molding her sweet, wet body to his. He rose, pulling her to her feet. She raised herself on tip-toes and put her arms around his neck, leaning to him for more kisses. Her eagerness ignited him anew and her sweet, parted lips opened wider to him. His tongue slid into her mouth, tasting, questing, mating with hers.

  Their slippery bodies were rapidly heating. Her hand was gripping the thick hair at the back of his neck as she moved her mouth under his and pressed herself to him. Kaytano felt the blood pounding in his temples and he knew he couldn’t wait. They stumbled toward the edge of the pool, still kissing, sighing, saying each other’s name.

  Kaytano, wondering if he could make it all the way into the bedroom and their bed, was crawling up the steps out of the water, bringing her with him. When his outstretched hand touched something soft, he sighed and pulled her with him. On the new black-lace dress, Kaytano made love to Suzette, their wet bodies sliding sensuously on each other. When they lay sated and spent, Suzette, her arms around his back, again considered telling him of her pregnancy. She was too sleepy and he was, too. She’d tell him when they woke.

  A pounding on their heavy bedroom door made the sleepy couple jump to their feet. They hurried inside, donning robes. Kaytano, running a hand through his wet hair, opened the door a crack.

  “I am sorry to disturb you, Kaytano,” the servant said apologetically. “Pancho Montoya is in the drawing room. He say Curtis Baird is very sick. He say if you are to see your uncle ever again, you must travel to Texas at once.”

  35

  Austin Brand leaned on his elbows at the table, face in his hands. His bloodshot eyes were burning, his head ached. He ran a hand behind his head to knead the tight, tense muscles. He sighed and lowered his hand.

  He reached for the whiskey bottle and poured himself a stiff drink. Tossing it down in one swallow, he made a face and slammed the empty jigger to the polished surface of the table. Slowly he turned to look out the long glass windows at the east end of the room. The first faint pink haze of dawn was appearing on the horizon. Soon the September heat would be oppressive, as another long, hot, anxious day began. Another day without his beloved Suzette.

  Austin again put his head in his hands. He moaned aloud. Where in God’s name could he be hiding her? How could a band of murderers and one helpless woman disappear from the face of the earth? How could they continue to elude him and all the men he’d hired to find her?

  Austin lifted his blond head and reached for the worn map near his elbow. He bent over it and squinted, as though if he studied it long enough, the hideout would be revealed to him. In the months she’d been gone, he’d traveled hundreds of miles throughout Texas, doggedly pursuing the smallest leads, the thinnest threads of hope. He’d hired the best trackers he could find, dozens of them, all working a different section of the vast state.

  Nothing. Not one sound clue to Suzette’s whereabouts. After all this time he was no closer to finding her than he’d been the day she was taken from the Alpha. Austin squeezed his eyes shut and once again berated himself for leaving her behind when he went to Chicago. He should never have gone, or he should have taken her along. She’d wanted to go with him, she’d asked that he take her. He should have done so; had he, she would be upstairs in their bed right now, safe, secure, and his.

  Where was she now? Was she in bed someplace? Was she forced to sleep in the same bed with that animal Kaytano? Was she, even now as he sat here, being raped by the cruel, vindictive half-breed?

  Animal sounds erupted from Austin’s throat and he shook his head to clear the agonizing visions from his mind. He must not think about it, for to do so would make him crazed. He needed to keep his wits about him if he were ever to find her. And he’d find her. He had to find her. Without her, life held no meaning. Without her this big mansion was a cold and empty place. There was no sunshine here, no laughter, no happiness. There would be none until his precious wife was once again safely inside the walls of her home.

  “Mr. Brand,” Kate said softly from the hall. “Sir, did you call me? I thought I heard someone speaking.”

  Austin slowly turned to look at the stocky, good-natured woman. “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t call, but maybe I was making noises; I’m not sure.”

  Smiling kindly at the big man, Kate came closer. “That’s all right, Mr. Brand. Can I fix you something to eat? Some breakfast?”

  “Nothing, thanks. I’m not hungry.” Austin poured another glass of whiskey.

  Kate wrung her hands and nodded. “I know, but you should eat. When did you get back? Have you been to bed yet?”

  Austin coughed. “We got in about an hour ago. I’ll sleep soon.”

  “I…did you have any luck?” Kate asked hopefully.

  “No,” Austin said flatly. “No, we didn’t. It was another false lead. Another wild-goose chase. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know where to turn. I feel like a…” Austin fell silent and bowed his head. “Sorry, Kate. Forgive me.”

  “Oh, Mr. Brand, don’t you be asking my forgiveness. Goodness knows you’ve been through more than the good Lord should put anyone through. Why, you’ve been a tower of strength. Don’t you be worrying about what I think.” She was fond of him and longed to comfort him.

  “Kate, I don’t feel very strong right now.” He smiled sadly at her.

  “You just need some sleep. Won’t you go upstairs and lie down for a while?”

  Austin sighed. “Perhaps you’re right. I’m tired, maybe I can sleep.”

  “Why, sure you can. Come on with me. I’ll turn down your nice clean bed and you can stretch out and rest your tired eyes.”

  Austin rose. Every muscle in his body was tense and aching. His head was pounding now and he wondered if he could make it up the stairs. A plump arm came around his waist and the kindly woman fussing over him said firmly, “I’m going to help you upstairs and I don’t want any back talk from you.”

  Austin looked down at the short, stocky woman so intent on helping him. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and together they made their slow, sure way up the stairs.

  Austin stood yawning in the blue bedroom while the busy little woman turned back the covers and smoothed the clean, blue sheets. “There.” She stepped back. “A bed fit for a king. Now you just tumble in there.”

  Scratching his head, he apologized. “Kate, I’m awfully dirty. I’ll soil that nice clean bed.”

  Kate frowned and grabbed his arm, dragging him to the bed. “Don’t worry about such foolishness,” she chided. “You can clean up when you waken.”

  Suddenly too weary to argue, Austin sat down on the edge of the bed and unbuttoned his shirt. Kate was tugging on his boots when he fell over onto his back, sound asleep. The woman rose and looked down at the bare-chested man sound asleep across the bed. Tenderness and worry filled her breast. “Bless you, darlin’,” she whispered. “You’ll find her, Austin. You don’t deserve to suffer so. You’ll find that sweet child.”

  Kate knew she wasn’t capable of lifting Austin into a better position for sleep. It didn’t matter; the poor man was so exhausted he’d sleep just fine lying across the bed. Kate took his boots and put them away. She pulled the heavy blue drapes against the morning sun and tiptoed from his room.

  Austin Brand, his bare feet on the floor, arms across his chest, slept as peacefully as a baby. Throughout the long, hot September day, Kate peeked in on him. Each time she found Austin in the same position. His bare chest rose and fell with his even breathing. His feet remained on the floor. He was still there at sundown when Tom Capps came to the back door of the mansion.

  “Kate”—Tom removed his Stetson—“is Austin awake? We’ve gotten word on Suzette.”

  “Come in, Tom.” She took the hat and led him into the library. “Austin is asleep, but he…”

  Before the words were out of her mouth, Austin came down the stairs, butt
oning his shirt. His gray eyes were alert. “Where is she? Have they found her, Tom? Can we go get her?” He was trembling.

  Tom walked to him. “One of your paid informants has finally hit pay dirt. Suzette and Kaytano are on a small ranch in the mountains eight miles east of Murphysville, Texas. It seems the half-breed’s uncle is dying of consumption, and Kaytano was determined to be with him when he goes. He’s got Mrs. Brand with him. Looks like the Indian is finally getting careless.”

  Austin never heard the last sentence. He was climbing the stairs to his room. Over his shoulder he said, “Have the men ready to go within the hour, Tom.”

  “Shall we telegraph the sheriff at Murphysville?” Tom called to Austin.

  Austin paused on the stairs and turned to look down. “To hell with the authorities. I don’t want them in on this. I’ll take care of Kaytano. You’ll tell no one of this, Tom. Pay the informer and tell him to forget about it. I don’t even want the men to know where we’re headed. Understand?”

  “Yes, boss.” Tom nodded knowingly.

  An hour later, a dozen mounted men rode into the sunset. They began the long journey into southwest Texas behind their big, blond leader. Austin Brand’s handsome face had lost some of its tenseness. He looked much younger than his forty-five years. There was a light dancing in his big gray eyes. His wide shoulders no longer sagged; he sat his horse straight and proud. His bronzed skin looked remarkably healthy and unlined. A hint of a smile played at his full, sensual mouth.

  He was going to get her. He knew it. This time it was not false hope, no sketchy lead. It was almost over. Within days Suzette would be at his side, in his arms, crying her heart out to him while he held and comforted her. He’d bring her home and together they’d forget the terrible ordeal. Time would pass and the nightmare would dim. They’d be just as they’d been before. She’d be his beautiful, young, passionate wife, just as before. Never again would she be away from him. Never again would she be out of his sight.

  36

  Suzette and Kaytano climbed higher, the horses carefully picking their way through the dense, fog-shrouded forest. High up on the slopes of Cathedral Peak, they entered a clearing. Directly above them about a hundred yards away, Curtis Baird’s spacious mountain home nestled amid lush vegetation and towering trees. Pines, cedars, pinions, poplar, ash, and Douglas firs dueled for their share of space and sun. Uniquely beautiful trees, but none could outshine the gigantic old cypress shading the east patio of the house from a towering height of seventy-five feet. Its trunk, as big around as a wagon wheel, was the natural core of a circular picnic table built around it by the talented, industrious man who called Cathedral Peak his home.

  The sprawling house was built entirely of ponderosa pine. The home of Curtis Baird was a luxurious alpine paradise—natural wonders made grander still by a caring, nature-loving man. Curtis’s fondness for his rich surroundings was evident, and Suzette admired him even before they met.

  The beauty and grace of his hidden home was a surprise to Suzette, but Curtis Baird proved a greater one. Expecting to find a pale man with sad, watery eyes and frail hands, Suzette grinned foolishly when a big, lanky Texan with sandy hair and clear Irish blue eyes lifted her from the saddle. Taller by inches than Kaytano, the big man had a booming, whiskey-deepened voice, a ruddy, sun-creased face, and a thick, bushy moustache that tickled Suzette’s cheek when he kissed her hello.

  Holding her up to his face, her feet dangling as though she were a doll, he held her tenderly in his huge hands and looked directly into her eyes. “Honey,” he said, beaming, “you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.” He inclined his head toward Kaytano. “That scamp doesn’t deserve you.”

  Curtis carefully lowered Suzette to her feet and released her. Deep laughter issued from his broad chest as he whirled and grabbed Kaytano. He clasped his nephew in a bear hug so tight that Suzette was half afraid he’d crush the life from her beloved. To her delight, she saw that Kaytano was gripping his uncle’s back as though he never wanted to let him go. She knew of no one, save her, that Kaytano would allow to embrace him this way.

  When the two men broke apart, they punched each other, laughed, and cuffed each other on the chin, like adorable children. It was a heart-warming scene, and when finally they stopped their horseplay and pulled her in between them for the walk up to the cabin, Suzette put her arm around each and felt wonderfully happy that she was carrying a descendant of these two remarkable men.

  Sweeping her inside the living room, Curtis said, “You made it just in time. The rain is beginning; it rains here every day, Suzette.” The sky darkened as the first big drops peppered the porch and lightning cracked uncomfortably close. Suzette’s eyes moved about the big, cheery room, admiring the gleaming oak floors, the colorful rugs, the massive furniture.

  With a hand cupping Suzette’s elbow, Curtis quickly steered her into a side hall and to a door at its end. The bedroom awaiting Kaytano and Suzette was large and comfortable. A huge bed, its counterpane of soft, red fox, sported a headboard that reached almost to the ceiling. It was carved from Mexican black walnut and was unlike any Suzette had ever seen.

  Her eyes wide, she ran her hand over its dark, gleaming surface, remarking on its beauty. Kaytano slid his hand around Curtis’s back. “Suzette, this big mountain man here made every stick of furniture you see. He’s been dying to show you, he’s so proud.”

  His ruddy face growing redder still, Curtis swiftly crooked an arm backward, encircling Kaytano’s dark head in the bend of his arm. “Damn it all, Tano, I wasn’t going to say anything. You know how modest I am.” Both men laughed.

  Kaytano twisted free of his uncle’s arm while Suzette said honestly, “Curtis, it’s the most beautiful furniture I’ve ever seen. You are truly talented and you should be proud.”

  Kaytano came to her, slipping his arms about her waist. He stood in back of her. “See how sweet she is, Uncle Curtis? I told her if she flattered you, you might show her your workshop.”

  “Kaytano, why do you tell such monstrous falsehoods!”She plucked at his lean fingers, trying to get loose. Paying her no attention, Kaytano winked at his uncle and kissed Suzette’s neck. “Curtis,” Suzette assured the big man, “he said nothing of the kind. He didn’t even tell me you build furniture.”

  “I believe you, dear.” Curtis smiled at her. “I do want to show you my workshop while you’re here. I could never interest my nephew in my work.”

  From the moment they had arrived at the Cathedral Peak ranch house, Suzette had felt right at home. On that first evening, after an excellent dinner in the candlelit dining room, Curtis had asked Suzette if she would make the coffee while he and Kaytano went into the library. Cheerfully complying, she stood in the kitchen taking china cups from the handmade cabinet while the two men sat in front of the fireplace in a room located in front of the kitchen. They talked in low voices, but Suzette easily heard what was said.

  “Tano”—Curtis’s gravelly voice, punctuated by racking coughs, was serious—“I suppose you’ll tell me to mind my own business, but that sweet, pretty little girl in there loves you. When are you going to marry her?”

  “Come on, Uncle Curtis, if you’ve something on your mind, don’t hem and haw about it. Come right out with it.” Kaytano’s laughter floated to her.

  “Hell, I know I’m too direct, son, but I’ve not forgotten a big-eyed brown-skinned little lad suffering because he was illegitimate.”

  “Your memory is impressive, Uncle, but your concern is misplaced. I don’t live in the past. I didn’t know you did. The fact that I was shunned as a child doesn’t keep me awake nights.” Kaytano drew a cigar from his pocket and lit it.

  Curtis, his home-rolled cigarette between his fingers, waved it about and coughed. “Damn it all, sometimes I think my only blood relative is thick-headed. I’m not talking about the past, I’m referring to the future. Do you want that baby Suzette’s carrying to face the same cruel childhood you had?” He thrust a finger toward
the kitchen and coughed loudly.

  For a time, Kaytano sat silently, clamping tightly on his cigar. Suzette, a china cup in her hand, strained to hear his reply to Curtis’s last sentence. Kaytano slowly took the cigar from his lips and crushed it out. “Uncle, you mean my Suzette is pregnant?”

  Grinning, Curtis teased, “Why, Kaytano, you’re the Indian. You’re the one who can see all things.”

  “Suzette blinds me with love,” said an awed Kaytano. “I have lost the sight of my third eye.” He rose from his chair.

  In the kitchen, Suzette, her heart beating wildly, turned when Kaytano stepped through the doorway. Catlike, he crossed the room to her, his dark eyes studying her flushed face. “Suzette.” His voice was deceptively calm. “Suzette?” His hands went to her stomach, touching, stroking, trembling.

  “Yes, Kaytano,” she whispered and slipped her arms about his neck, “I’m carrying your child.”

  “When? How long?” A muscle jumped in his jaw.

  “I only found out for sure a week ago. I was going to tell you the night of the grand party.” Growing increasingly nervous, she laughed shrilly. “Kaytano, I think I might have conceived that morning I spilled the sugar.”

  Kaytano wasn’t smiling. He lifted a hand up to her hair. He studied her face. “Suzette, are you sorry?”

  Suzette would have died laughing if not for the serious expression on his handsome face. Smiling sweetly, she lifted her fingers to the taut line of his mouth, smoothing away its tightness. “That’s the first foolish statement you’ve ever made, Kaytano. I’m gloriously happy to be carrying your child. Should you tire of me tomorrow, I shall always have a part of you.” She softly kissed his closed lips.

  Pulling her closer, Kaytano said, “I’ll never tire of you. And I’ll never let you go. Only death can release you and our child from me.”