by Ryan, Nan
“It is not true!” She lifted her head and looked down at him. “You never fail.” She again covered his mouth with hers and kissed him with commanding intensity. Getting no response, her lips finally released his. She sat up, her bare breasts shaking with her rapid breathing and her dark eyes narrowing, “It’s another woman!” she spat out venomously.
“Hell no, it’s not—”
“It’s another woman!” she repeated, her voice growing shrill. “Never before have you come to Lupe’s bed and not make her happy!” She slid to his side and looked down at his groin and shook her head sadly.
“I told you, honey, I’ve had too much to—”
“Poohy,” she bit out. “You have been here when you were too drunk to talk and still you could perform like a man!” She looked into his eyes and put her hand on his chest, curling the thick hair around her fingers. Leaning close to his face, she whispered, “Why not just lie here, close your eyes and let Lupe see if she can …” Her hand began to teasingly move down his flat stomach.
Wearily, Pecos captured her roaming hand and raised himself to a sitting position. Lifting her hand to his lips, he gently kissed it and shook his head, “Honey, you’re the sexiest gal in the world, but it’s no use. I’m tired, Lupe. Say you understand.”
Snatching her hand from his, she turned away from him to button her blouse, muttering in Spanish. Pecos tiredly buttoned his shirt and bit his lip to keep from grinning. He spoke Spanish and she knew it. He understood every bitter word of her tirade. He assured her what she was saying was not true. Putting a hand to the nape of her neck, Pecos tenderly pulled the angry woman into the circle of his embrace. “Listen to me, Lupe—” his lips were on her warm temple “—there’s not another woman draining all my energy. You’ve got it …”
“It’s a lie!” she insisted. “Lupe is not stupid! She saw you look at that pale girl with the gold hair.” Lupe jumped up from the bed and stood in front of him, hands on her hips, leaning close to Pecos’s face. “You are worn out from her bed!”
“Jesus, Lupe, don’t be ridiculous. That girl is to be my father’s new wife, I told you that.” Pecos sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair.
Shaking a finger in front of his face, Lupe said coldly, “I don’t care whose bride she will be. If you are not sleeping with her, you are longing to; it is just as bad. I think that …”
Too close to the mark, Lupe’s words cut into Pecos’s chest like a sharp knife. Rising from the bed in anger he grabbed the accusing arm and held her wrist so tightly she flinched. “Lupe! You’re so hot-blooded, you figure everyone else is the same. Has it ever occurred to you that there are times I don’t want to make love to anyone. If I wanted—”
Wrenching from his grasp, she stormed across the tiny room and jerked open the door. “Get out, gringo. You do not fool me! You want that skinny little blond girl!” She tossed her hair back off her face and laughed. “It’s really funny, Pecos! You desire a girl who will spend the rest of her life in your father’s bed!”
Grinding his teeth, Pecos walked to the door, fighting the urge to wring Lupe’s brown neck. “See you, Lupe,” he said curtly and made his way back down the narrow hall, through the sitting room and outside.
Immediately contrite, Lupe followed hurriedly, pleading. “Pecos, Pecos,” she begged, throwing her arms around his neck, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean it. Please, my love, do not leave me. Stay here and I will …”
Gently but firmly removing her arms from around his neck, Pecos said, “Lupe, it’s late.” He picked up his saddle from the porch and walked to his horse.
Again she followed and flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “No! Lupe didn’t mean to say such silly things. Don’t be mad, don’t go. I cannot stand it if you go.” She stood clutching his waist while he saddled his horse.
Turning, Pecos put a long arm around her and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back, Lupe. You know I will, but tonight I’m going home to get some sleep.” He smiled down at her, and Lupe, near tears, moved her hands up to clutch his handsome face, the chiseled features bathed in silvery moonlight. Pulling his head down, she kissed him in desperation, pressing her hot, moist mouth to his and twisting her head frantically. The tall body she pressed against was rigid. Sadly she released his mouth and let her arms fall to her sides, her head bowed.
“Night, Lupe,” he said softly and kissed the top of her bowed head. He stepped away from her and mounted. Tears streaming down her brown cheeks, Lupe watched silently as he reined his horse, turned and rode away in the moonlight. “I’ll be back,” he called over his shoulder, but both knew very well that he would not.
THE LONG RIDE in the fresh night air sobered Pecos completely. By the time he reached Tierra del Sol’s tall gates, he was bone-tired and growing very sleepy. It was late; no lights were on in the hacienda. Pecos quietly let himself into his room through the courtyard entrance and stripped off his clothes in the darkness. Padding barefoot to his big bed, he let out a yelp of pain, followed by a string of curses. As he hopped on one foot, he rubbed at the smarting sole, found and extracted a vicious thorn. Frowning, he gingerly lowered his foot to the floor and crouched beside his bed.
There in the moonlight the Border rose lay wilted and crushed. Pecos carefully lifted the spoiled rose to his face. The sweet fragrance remained, its scent filling his senses vividly with visions of the beautiful girl who’d worn it. Again she stood before him, her long clean hair shining in the morning sunlight, the Border rose behind her ear. Again she was there with her new pink dress unbuttoned to her tiny waist, and her lovely breasts, quivering and warm, so close to his heated eyes and watering mouth. Again he could hear her sweet soft voice saying, “You shame me, Pecos, and yourself.”
Pecos rose tiredly, the shattered rose in his hand. Knowing he was behaving foolishly, he turned back the covers of his bed and gently-placed the rose beneath his pillow. He crawled between the cool sheets, turned onto his stomach and put a hand up under the pillow to tenderly touch a velvety petal of the Border rose.
“Angel,” he murmured into his pillow as his chest constricted with an emotion he did not fully understand.
Chapter Fifteen
THE WEEKS FOLLOWING the courthouse dedication went quietly for Angie. To her surprise, Pecos’s constant teasing abated, and in typical female fashion she was mystified and mildly disappointed. She saw him only at mealtime, if at all, and on those occasions he was uncharacteristically silent and polite. His suave indifference and smooth, imperturbable manners rankled Angie almost as much as his needling had in the past.
On an early-morning ride on her beloved Ángel, Angie, accompanied by her instructor, Roberto Luna, spotted a lone rider on the horizon. Her heart did a flip-flop when she recognized the big black stallion as Diablo. She knew no other rider would be atop Pecos’s prized beast.
Carefully keeping her voice well-modulated and calm, she turned in the saddle and addressed her riding companion. “Roberto, you may ride back to the stables. I need to speak to Mr. McClain. I’ll be along very shortly.” She smiled easily.
“Sí, señorita.” Roberto immediately reined his chestnut gelding away from her. “I will see to Ángel when you come in.”
Angie did not answer. Her heart was racing beneath her white blouse. Her green eyes were locked on the big black horse cantering across the great basin of the desert, steadily moving toward the cool, purplish Davis Mountains.
Angie reined her mare and spoke a gentle command. Ángel seemed as anxious to catch up to the dark horse and rider as Angie. She smiled remembering that Diablo was, after all, Ángel’s lover, the father of her unborn colt. The palomino went into an easy lope, kicking up dust as the alkaline crust turned to powder beneath the mare’s sharp hooves.
Nearing the bare-headed Pecos, Angie started to call to him but changed her mind. He continued to canter ahead of her. Feeling suddenly very foolish, she considered turning back. Obviously Pecos was riding alone because he wanted it that way. What had p
ossessed her to pursue him? Since the day she’d arrived at Del Sol, she’d wanted nothing more than an end to Pecos’s pestering. She’d gotten her wish; now she was riding after him, clearly inviting trouble. She should turn back and leave the dark, dangerous Pecos alone.
Angie kicked the mare, coaxing her to go faster, until she had at last overtaken Pecos and Diablo. Pecos turned lithely in the saddle and smiled at her. To her surprise, it was not the sneering curl of those sensual lips she’d seen so often but a warm, friendly smile of greeting, as though she were an expected arrival.
“Mornin’,” he said, his Texas twang glorious to her ears.
“Good morning, Pecos.” She hated the hesitant sound of her voice. And she hated herself for foolishly trying to explain her presence. “I … thought that … that is I—”
“Care to ride to the foothills with me?” he cut in smoothly.
Angie felt alive! Unable to give an audible reply, she furiously nodded her golden head up and down and melted completely when he grinned boyishly and said, “What are we waiting for?”
His black stallion bolted away, and Angie urged her trusted mare to thunder after him. Soon they rode knee to knee, the wind whipping their hair about their laughing faces and making conversation impossible. Higher and higher they climbed into the rugged foothills, slowing their mounts to traverse the rocky, desolate incline. In the cooling shade of a granite peak, Pecos pulled up, halting Diablo, and motioned for Angie to go no farther.
Dismounting, he dropped Diablo’s reins and helped her down from the saddle. Certain he’d seize the opportunity, Angie braced for the tempting feel of his long body touching hers. She was relieved and a bit disappointed when he lifted her to the ground, avoiding any contact save that of his strong fingers gripping her underarms. As soon as her feet touched rock, he dropped his hands and stepped backward.
Pebbles scattered beneath his well-polished boots as he climbed catlike up a steep, rocky ledge, his long legs rapidly eating up the distance. Angie scurried like a rabbit to catch up to him. In her haste, she stepped on a large, slick boulder and almost lost her footing. Pecos was at her side in an instant, steadying her, his powerful arm around her waist. Automatically clutching at his chest, Angie looked up into his eyes and trembled.
Pecos’s gray eyes were deep and unfathomable. There was a definite air of violence and mystery about him today that drew her to him with an almost uncontrollable attraction. His lips, which knew so well how to turn a woman to fire, were parted, but unsmiling. His arm held her close for a moment, his long body as hard as stone.
Abruptly he released her, breaking the spell. She’d been so sure he was going to take her in his arms, crush her to him and kiss her passionately. That was what she’d wanted him to do, what she needed. Pecos McClain represented all the forbidden fruits of her strict, religious upbringing. There was no doubt in her young mind that this tall, sensual man would be the expert lover of her erotic dreams.
Her knees weak, Angie licked her dry lips and once again followed Pecos. He stopped, turned back to look at her. When he spoke, his voice was soft and low, his eyes wistfully scanning the desolate vista surrounding them. “I like to come here.” He inclined his dark head up to an opening in the rocks behind him. “I found this place shortly after I’d gotten Diablo. He and I used to come up here and hide.” He eased down to take a seat on a slick, tilted rock. He drew a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it.
“May I join you?” Angie felt ill at ease, shy, as though she were an intruder.
Pecos’s hooded gaze swung up to her. He clamped the cigar between his even teeth and put out his hand, palm up. She laid her hand on his and the warmth of his strong hand sent a jolt of electricity through her. Gently he pulled her down onto the rock in front of him. Angie curled her feet to the side and silently cursed herself for not quietly taking a seat by his side. From her perch where he’d placed her, she was too vulnerable, too bombarded with the sight and scent of him. Face to face, she had to turn her head away to not be fully exposed to the swarthy, handsome face and the broad, muscular chest beneath the snow-white shirt. So close was she, she could have put a hand straight out and it would have come in contact with that flat male abdomen, the smooth leather belt and the shiny silver buckle.
Her cheeks crimson, Angie expected the taunting Pecos’s deep laughter to fill the morning air and the knowing look in his crinkling eyes as he read her thoughts and pounced on the opportunity to upbraid and embarrass her. To her astonishment, when she looked at him he was gazing out at the valley over her head.
Pecos tossed his cigar away, inhaled deeply of the sweet morning air and spoke. “You know, I’ve traveled a bit in the past few years. I’ve spent time down in Mexico at the Lost Madre, but I’ve also been to San Francisco, Virginia City, St. Louis, Philadelphia, even New York City.” Pecos draped a dark forearm over his knee. “Those places were exciting and I enjoyed every day I spent in them, but strange as it may sound, this … this wild, barren desert …” He fell silent and his expressive gray eyes came to rest on Angie. “This is my home. This was my mother’s home. The land where Del Sol sits has been in my mother’s family since the days of the conquistadores. I love this land. I love Texas and especially this part of Texas. I’ve roamed alone mile upon mile over this untamed desert, and I know it like the back of my hand. No one knows it better.” Pecos rubbed a lean jaw and lazily leaned back on his elbow. “Behind me is my secret cave. Only Diablo knows about it.” For the first time, Pecos smiled. “Lord, I can’t count the times I hid out up here, avoiding the inevitable strapping I knew was coming.” The smile departed and he looked at her, as though waiting for her to say something.
“Your father whipped you, too?” she asked softly.
“Barrett McClain spent more time blistering my bare butt than he did branding cattle,” said a cold-eyed Pecos.
“Why, Pecos?”
Gray eyes softened and he said airily, “In case you’ve failed to notice, my dear old daddy doesn’t care a great deal for his only son. And that’s fine; I don’t mind, I haven’t minded since the day I got too big to be whipped anymore. Since then, how he feels about me is of little consequence.”
“How old were you, Pecos?”
Pecos laughed. “Eleven. He raised his whip to hit me and I decided I’d had enough. I was tired of my futile attempts to gain his love and I was tired of the frequent beatings. I took the whip away from him and told him if he ever touched me again, I’d kill him.”
Angie shuddered. “Pecos, I don’t understand the gulf between you. He’s so kind to me, and then, too, you loved your mother and she married him, there must have been …”
Pecos rolled up to a sitting position, leaning alarmingly close to her face. His eyes darkened with anger. “When my mother was a pretty young girl, this country was wild and lonely. There were few suitable males around to court her. In 1854, Fort Davis was opened and in the spring of 1855 Barrett McClain was sent by the army to the new fort. My granddaddy York had a contract with the army to supply beef for the soldiers.” Pecos gave a hollow, empty laugh. “Lucky Kathryn York. She went with her daddy to visit the fort one sunny April morning, and Barrett McClain spotted her. She was beautiful, but her physical attributes were not the most attractive thing about her.”
Angie shook her head. “Pecos, you’re being unfair. Why, I’m sure that—”
All at once he grabbed her hand, his eyes fierce, almost pleading, “Listen to me, Angel, you think I’m saying all this because I’m …” As abruptly as he’d grabbed her hand, he released it. His eyes changed. He smiled, and said lazily, “Listen to me. I keep rambling on.” He slowly rose in front of her. “Why don’t I show you my mountain cave?”
Wondering what he’d intended to say, Angie desperately wished he’d continued. She knew it was useless to pursue it, the moment for questions was gone. At the cave’s mouth Pecos took her hand in his and led her inside. They went into the dimness, Angie more nervous than she wanted him to k
now. She’d never been inside a cave and she’d heard scary stories of bats and rodents and snakes. The bright sunlight was rapidly fading behind them as they slowly made their way deeper into the narrow, cool cave.
“Angel,” Pecos said from above her, “I’m going to release your hand. You stand still, don’t move, all right?”
“Please, Pecos, don’t leave me,” she pleaded, her hand tightening on his.
In a gesture of kindness and understanding, he wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders and murmured softly, his breath a whisper upon her temple, “Sweetheart, I’m not trying to play games. There’s a coal oil lamp in here. If memory serves, it’s only a few more feet down the left wall. I thought I’d feel my way down till I find it.”
Angie clutched at his shirtfront. “Pecos, take me with you, please. Don’t let me go.”
“Well, sure, Angel,” he said soothingly, momentarily pressing her head to his chest. Beneath her cheek, his heavy heartbeat was wonderfully reassuring. “I’ll not let you go,” he promised, and he took her small hand and wrapped it around his upper arm. Loving the warm, hard feel of his powerful biceps, Angie clung to him with both hands and edged her way along with him deeper into the dark cave.
When Pecos located the lamp, he told her of his find and, patting her hand, he crouched down to strike a match to the wick. He replaced the globe and smiled up at Angie. “How’s that?”
Her nervous hand on his shoulder, she nodded. “Much better.” Reluctantly she released his shirt and moved away, looking around her while the flickering lamp cast eerie shadows on the gray, rough walls of the cave. Pecos slowly rose to his feet, watching her. Hugging herself, Angie turned slowly around. The circle completed, she stopped and looked up at Pecos. His eyes were upon her and in them was an expression she’d never seen there before. A muscle was jumping in his lean dark jaw and his face looked hard and chiseled in the shadowy light. Angie felt she couldn’t get a breath. His beautiful gray eyes were luminous, piercing. When he took a step toward her Angie swayed unsteadily, fear and expectation mingling in her breast.
