Wayward Lady

by Nan Ryan

  “Darlin’, my Suzette,” Austin pleaded, weeping, “please be quiet.”

  Suzette was looking into Austin’s gray, sad eyes while his big hands forced her down and the doctor put the needle into a vein inside her elbow. By the time the needle was removed, Suzette felt the blessed blackness closing over her. It was a wonderful, peaceful feeling. So very tranquil. Suzette’s tears stopped and she smiled, as the last thought this side of consciousness was that she never intended to wake up again; it was a thought that brought warmth and wonderful well-being.

  Austin, watching her grow calm, stood quietly crying, his big shoulders shaking with his sobs. His hand went up to her tangled blond hair, then to her wet cheek. Tenderly he wiped away her tears while the doctor said, “Don’t worry, Mr. Brand. She’s going to be fine. She’s been through a lot so she’s distressed, but she’s young and healthy, she’ll snap out of it. Why, in a few weeks, she’ll forget any of this ever happened, and you will also.”

  Austin never looked at the doctor. He continued to look at his frail, sleeping wife. Over his shoulder, he said, “Please, leave us for a while.”

  “As you wish.” The doctor nodded and motioned the nurse to accompany him from the room.

  After they’d gone, Austin continued to stand looking down at Suzette. He said softly, “My precious Suzette, can you ever forget what has happened? Can I make you forget, my love? I’ll try so very hard; I know you’ve suffered so much; I know you’ve…I know Kaytano used you.” Austin paused and lifted her hand to his lips. Kissing it over and over, he murmured into her cold palm, “I’m sorry, so sorry. I can forget if you can. I’ll be patient and understanding. I know the animal hurt you, but he never will again, darlin’. I shot him. He’ll never touch you again. Never. Never, never.” The hot sun set and still Austin stood over his wife. His tears now dry, he whispered repeatedly, “Suzette, everything will be just as it was before.” Even as he said the words, Austin had the feeling nothing would ever be just as it was before.

  A pale, silent Suzette was handed aboard the Alpha at the railroad station in the small mountain town. Austin, fussing over her, was understanding of her silence. He asked if she’d like Madge to come in and help her into bed. She stared at him blankly and he smiled and said, “I’ll bet you’d like to sit up for a time, wouldn’t you?” He led her to one of the brocade couches and eased her down. Determined not to push or upset her, Austin let her sit quietly staring out the window as the train pulled away.

  Hours later Suzette was still staring out the window. Austin, worried and nervous, looked at the untouched tray of food on the marble table in front of her and shook his head. He wouldn’t force her to eat; she’d eat when she was hungry. He poured himself a bourbon and lit a cigar. Quietly, he paced the floor while the train made its slow, steady way homeward.

  Suzette sat looking out over the Chihuahuan desert. The mountains had been left behind; they were only a distant bluish haze on the far horizon. Suzette’s eyes stayed on those mountains. She felt as long as she could still see the Chisos mountains where her joyous time with Kaytano had been spent, the link between them would not be severed. It was up there in the cool, high wilderness where Kaytano had first made love to her; and then later, he’d taken her to the Punta de la Sierra and away to his home in Mexico. Good times, wonderful times. It was up on Cathedral Peak that last she’d seen him, last held him, lost him.

  Suzette’s eyes stung from not blinking. She was too intent on looking at the mountain peaks. When those peaks were left behind, Kaytano would be left behind, and their unborn child would be left behind. She’d not see either of them until she followed them to the grave. When the hot desert sun reluctantly slid out of sight, it took with it those distant mountains. And Kaytano. Suzette, crying quietly, jumped when Austin touched her shoulder.

  “Darlin’,” he said softly, “will you let Madge help you into bed now?”

  There was no longer a reason to remain awake. There was no longer a reason to remain alive. Sleep was the nearest thing to death. Suzette nodded her head. Austin sighed with relief and hurriedly rang for Madge.

  Austin and Suzette talked little on the long journey home to Jacksboro. Austin was not foolish enough to think her the cheerful, fun-loving girl she’d been before the outlaw had taken her. He’d long ago prepared himself for the worst and he had every intention of making her homecoming as painless as possible.

  After Madge helped Suzette get undressed and bathed and into bed, Austin came back into the room. She looked up at him with dead eyes that broke his heart. Hiding his hurt, he sat down on the bed beside her.

  “Listen to me, Suzette,” he said soothingly. “It’s impossible for me to know what you have been through. I can’t know how you feel; no one could. I want to say to you that I love you very much and I’d give everything I have to make your pain disappear. I’ve no intention of questioning you about any of it, but I’m here, should you need me, and my arms are waiting to hold you. I’m here for you, I shall be whatever you want me to be—father, husband, lover, or friend.” He gently kissed her temple.

  “Thank you,” she managed lamely.

  It was the first time she’d spoken to him. Feeling almost buoyant, Austin smiled. “I’ll be in the next room. Good night, darlin’.”

  South of the border, Kaytano, gravely injured, lay in a tiny room at the edge of the sleepy village of San Carlos. The last red rays of the dying Mexican sun streamed in through the open window. From the distance, a bell chimed in the town square.

  The door opened and Pancho Montoya, dusty sombrero in hand, came into the room. Twisting the brim of his soiled hat nervously, he edged closer to the dark man in the bed.

  Tears filling his eyes, the small man gripped Kaytano’s shoulder. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. Kaytano raised a hand to Pancho and spoke. “Please, my friend. Don’t grieve.”

  Sniffing, Pancho said, “I am so thankful you lived. Is a miracle you got away. Is a miracle you lived after white man shot you.”

  Kaytano said, “I am hard to kill. Brand thought I was dead. I owe my life to Darkness. When I came to, I was so weak from loss of blood, I could do nothing more than put on my pants. I called to Darkness; he carried me down the mountain. I don’t remember the ride. Enough about me.” Kaytano’s dark eyes held a questioning look.

  “Jefe,” Pancho spoke in a whisper, “she’s on her way home to Jacksboro. She was in hospital in Murphysville.” He bowed his head before continuing. “She lose the baby, Kaytano. I am sorry.” He lifted his eyes and again patted Kaytano’s shoulder.

  Kaytano said nothing. With a wave of his good arm, he quietly dismissed the old man. Pancho backed away, longing to comfort the young man whom he loved. Wise to the ways of Kaytano, he knew he was suffering, that he loved the beautiful blond woman as he loved no other person on earth. Kaytano was different with her, very different. Losing her and his child was the most painful thing that had ever happened to him. Pancho shook his gray head and left.

  Kaytano shut his eyes tightly. From his window, the laughter of children pierced the quiet evening. A dog barked far away. A lone guitar strummed by a sweetheart outside a young girl’s window floated on the sweet breezes.

  Try as he might, he couldn’t get rid of the lump in his throat. He couldn’t blink back the burning tears that kept filling his dark, sad eyes. Kaytano hadn’t cried since the day he was fourteen and his beautiful mother died. Since that time so long ago he’d lived a hard, fast life; he’d seen men die, he’d killed men, he’d been near death himself. None of it had touched him. No one had been close enough to hurt him. He’d lived a life of uncertainty and danger and never given his heart to anyone. Then he’d captured Suzette.

  Kaytano lay alone in the dusk and let the hot tears slide over his high brown cheekbones. He clutched at the sheet and his slender, wounded body shook with his sobs. He turned his face into the pillow and cried. He cried as he’d never cried in his life. Long after the last traces of pink had left the night
sky, Kaytano wept.

  The cruel, indifferent man they called the “Prince of Darkness” sobbed like a frightened, brokenhearted little boy.

  Back home in Jacksboro, an understanding Kate greeted Suzette, wisely acting as though Suzette had been away on a short pleasure trip. She took the young woman’s arm and said sweetly, “My goodness, honey, I’ll bet you’re all worn out from your trip. Isn’t this October heat stifling? Tell you what, I’ll open up the double doors in your bedroom so you can catch what little breeze there is.” She put her arm about Suzette’s slender waist and urged her up the stairs. “I’ll bet a warm bath would put you right. Then it’s into that nice, clean bed and supper on a tray.”

  Suzette nodded weakly and let the helpful woman take her to the blue bedroom. Austin remained downstairs, looking after them, his hat in his hand, his gray eyes tortured. Tom Capps came up to the house just as Austin took off his suit coat.

  “I can come back later if you’d rather,” Tom apologized, when Austin, rolling up his shirtsleeves, answered the front door.

  “Come on in.” Austin tried to smile. “Have a drink with me. We just got home.” He turned and headed for the library, Tom following.

  Tom respectfully waited for Austin to speak. The two men sat drinking in the late-afternoon heat. Austin, running a big hand through his hair, at last turned to his old friend. He sighed heavily.

  “Tom, he had her for seven months and I guess I’ll never know what happened between them. I do know that it will take much longer than seven months before she is once again the girl she was. If ever.” He took a swallow of whiskey. “I must be patient. I must wait. I must…” He fell silent, shaking his head.

  Tom reached out and gripped his friend’s knee. “Listen to me, Austin, you have her back and that’s what matters. It’s been a nightmare, but it’s ended. Kaytano’s dead and Suzette’s home. I’m not going to sit here and say it is going to be easy. I’m sure it won’t, not for you, not for Suzette. But time will take care of everything. Wounds heal, fears fade, grief disappears.” Tom rose. “I’ll leave you now. Get some rest, my friend.” He smiled and added, “Why, Austin, by Christmas you’ll both have forgotten it ever happened.”

  Suzette jumped when Austin knocked on her bedroom door. Pulling the blue sheets up over her, she told Madge she could open the door. When Austin entered, Madge said her good-nights and departed. Austin crossed the room. Suzette held her breath as she watched him take a chair and pull it close to the bed.

  “May I?” he asked.

  “Sit down, Austin,” she said, avoiding his eyes.

  He was seated and she waited. The talk that had been avoided on the long trip home could no longer be put off; she knew it, he knew it.

  “Suzette,” he began, “I think it’s time some things were cleared up, brought out in the open.”

  “Austin, please, I…” She didn’t feel she could stand his questioning on this first night back.

  “No, Suzette, I have to speak to you. Please just listen for a time.” Austin rose abruptly and crossed the room to the double doors. He stood, thumbs hitched in his pockets, facing away from her. “Suzette”—he pivoted—“I have always known about Kaytano. Unfortunately, I had no idea he despised me so much that he would take you from me.” Austin came back to the chair and dropped into it heavily. “I’m certain he told you that I was once in love with his mother. She was a lovely, sweet girl, very much like you.” Austin pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it.

  “I met Virginia Baird and felt my life complete. Within months, Kiowas took her from me. When she was returned home, she was no longer the innocent fifteen-year-old child. She had been Satanta’s woman. She’d borne his child, Kaytano. I should have taken her back; it would have been the decent, kind thing to do. I’ve spent many an unhappy hour in my life knowing I did the wrong thing. She was good, sweet, and she loved me. I loved her, but I was young and foolish. I couldn’t bear the shame that an Indian had taken what I felt should have been mine alone.” Austin smiled ruefully and drew on his cigar. “The arrogance of youth would be humorous if it were not so destructive. I was unbending. I turned my back on the girl I loved. I broke her heart, ruined her life.” He glanced at Suzette. “I’ll say this for her bastard son—he made me pay. I deserved it; you did not. It was not your fault I deserted his mother; he shouldn’t have made you suffer for my sins.”

  “Austin, he…”

  “Let me finish, please.” Austin wanted to tell her everything now. “I left the poor girl and her half-breed child and I decided that since I could not have love, I would have wealth and power. While the memory of the sweet Virginia Baird remained in my heart, I sought out the young ladies whose backgrounds were power and money. Beth Applegate won the dubious honor of becoming my wife. I didn’t love Beth, but her family was powerful and monied and I thought I could have the best of both worlds.”

  Austin again rose and crushed out his cigar, then put his hands in his pockets and paced. “I’d have Beth Applegate for my wife, and I’d make secret visits to my soiled angel, Virginia, for my baser needs.” Austin laughed hollowly while Suzette stared at him. “Virginia would have no part of me after I married, so I was left with Beth and her money. She was a sweet and remarkable woman and I grew fond of her. I worshipped the child she gave me. When they were killed I thought that finally I’d been fully punished for my sins. I was wrong.” He came back to the chair. “I know you’re tired, so I’ll end this depressing little turn and let you rest.” He looked at her. “After I lost Beth and Jenny, I fell in love with you. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. I was twenty years old again and so in love I was consumed with passion for you. In all my life, I’ve never loved anyone, not even the young, sweet Virginia, the way that I love you. Kaytano must have known it. He was cunning enough to know that taking you would kill me.” Austin again rose and stood near the bed, tentatively reaching for her hand. He looked down at her and said in a breaking voice, “Suzette, he was right. I love you more than life and I will not make the same mistake twice. You slept with Kaytano because he made you and it doesn’t make any difference to me. I’m sorry you had to endure the degradation, pain, and shame, but to me you’re just as pure as you were the day he took you from the Alpha.”

  Her hand icy, she longed to jerk it away. Slowly she pulled it free and said, “You don’t understand, Austin. You don’t know what…”

  “Please”—he cut her off—“you don’t need to explain. None of it matters. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t care. I love you more than ever. He’s dead, I shot him, and you’re back where you belong. I want us to put it behind us and be as we were.”

  Suzette began to cry. “Oh, dear God, what have I done?” she said miserably.

  “Nothing!” he insisted. “Nothing at all. You’re still my precious little Suzette. Now, I’ll leave you and let you rest. I’ll be in my room. I’ll leave the door open in case you need me. Good night, my love.” He leaned over her and kissed her temple. Suzette’s eyes closed and she remained silent.

  Austin crossed the room to his door. Pausing there, he turned back to look at the pale, frightened girl in the big blue bed.

  “Suzette,” he whispered.

  She turned her head to look at him. “Yes?” she asked tearfully.

  “Welcome home.”

  38

  Late Indian summer turned to autumn. Suzette, hollow-eyed, pale, and thin, spent hour upon hour alone on the balcony outside her bedroom. She constantly scanned the horizon, as though she expected Kaytano to ride over a distant ridge and back into her life. She couldn’t face the fact of his death; it was too painful. How could he be dead—a man who had cheated the Angel of Death so often, had laughed in the face of danger, had been so vitally alive?

  Kaytano never came. He would never come. Her only love was dead and she watched the countryside dying too, as the leaves fell from the trees and the rolling prairie turned a burnt brown. The sky began to take on
that strange wintry look, as the sun now shone from a different, more northern angle. The winter of her despair was beginning and Suzette wished more than once that she had been allowed to perish with Kaytano and his child.

  Austin’s heart was as heavy as Suzette’s. The sad truth was becoming evident: Suzette was never going to be as she had been before her capture. Austin would never know what had happened in those months Kaytano held her, but he knew she was no longer his playful, trusting, affectionate young wife. Determined to give her all the time she needed to recuperate, Austin fought his impulses to take her in his arms and hold her. He was not certain how she would react and he would do nothing to widen the chasm between them.

  He wondered about Suzette’s relationship with Kaytano. What had it really been? Did he rape Suzette repeatedly until, afraid for her life and her sanity, she had given in to him, stopped fighting him, offered herself to him? Austin cringed. A bitter taste rose to choke him when he recalled the night in the mountain cabin. Kaytano and his beautiful Suzette sharing a bed; Kaytano stark-naked, his copper arms around Suzette, her soft, white body clad only in a filmy nightgown, pressed to the length of Kaytano, her limbs entwined with the Indian’s. Try as he might, Austin couldn’t blink away the vision; it was stamped upon his brain with vivid clarity and it rose before his eyes time and again to mock him.

  The entire scene played itself out before his tormented eyes many a night while he lay awake in his room, unable to sleep, his chest aching with unhappiness. Again he could feel the door swinging inward as his booted foot kicked it. He stood in the doorway, his gun raised, his eyes rapidly sweeping the room. Kaytano going for his gun. A flash of fire as he, Austin, pulled the trigger; a stunned look on the Indian’s dark face; bright red blood exploding from his chest. Suzette screaming. Suzette placing her body in front of Kaytano’s. Suzette pressed against the half-breed, looking at Austin with hate as though he were the intruder!