The Desires of Her Heart

by Lyn Cote

  Dorritt moved till they were almost touching. “Why are you being so stubborn? If we decide not to let what others think hold us back, keep us as we are, we can have it all. A good life together, perhaps children, and something to leave them when we die. Since you force me to, I will sacrifice the last of my pride. All you have to do is say I love you too and let’s start our life together.”

  He brushed past her and started walking away, everything in him clamoring for him to turn, take her into his arms, and speak the words she wanted to hear.

  She pursued him and grasped his arm once more. “Was that kiss nothing to you?”

  “It was just a kiss.” Why are you putting us through this? He lifted his shoulder, shaking off her hand. “You should marry Don Carlos. He is wealthy with a good reputation. He can give you the life you deserve.”

  “I may marry Don Carlos,” she said fiercely. “But only if you cannot love me. Only if you remain a coward.”

  He kept going.

  She hurried forward and planted herself in front of Quinn yet again, as if daring him to brush past her. “Stop. Think what you are doing, what you’re throwing away. Do you think that I go around casually telling men I love them? Is that what you think?”

  “No, that’s not what I think. I have already said what I know. Just because you think in a new way, do you think the whole world has changed? It hasn’t. I am still the same half-breed I was in Louisiana.” He tried to go.

  She stood her ground. “Yes, you are. But we can’t let what was true in Louisiana hold us back here. In Louisiana, I allowed myself to see myself as less than I am, less than God made me. And you can’t let—”

  He tried to go around her. She moved with him, blocking him.

  “Quinn, you allowed yourself to see yourself as men like my stepfather see you, not as God does. But should you, should I care what small, empty men like him think?”

  Quinn made a sound of disgust. “I can’t believe you’re talking to me like this. This is not how a lady talks.”

  “I won’t let you throw that word in my face. I’m a Texas woman. And this is how a Texas woman talks to the man she loves. I love you. I want to be your wife. But you have to be fearless too. You have to begin thinking notions big enough for this land, big enough for us to be together.”

  “Marry Don Carlos.” Quinn brushed past her toward the jacal. “Ash, bring Reva! We’ll see Miss Dorritt back to the inn.”

  Dorritt tried to answer him but he turned his back as the other two joined them outside.

  With Ash and Reva, Quinn walked Dorrritt to the inn’s back door and waited until she went inside. He’d not dared to look at her face on the way, but then by the faint light falling from the inn windows, he glanced into her face. Her expression cut him—he’d seen happier faces on dead men.

  From the inn doorway, Dorritt watched Quinn walk away. Ash and Reva hesitated near her as if wanting to talk. Dorritt couldn’t bear it and turned away—and found Don Carlos waiting for her just inside the inn. She gasped in surprise.

  Caught coming in after visiting Quinn, Dorritt did not know what to say to Don Carlos. She stuttered a guilty incoherent explanation; then closed her mouth.

  He gazed at Dorritt without any expression except polite concern. “Querida, I do not think it is wise for you to be outside after dark.”

  Dorritt had heard him call Alandra querida, and so she knew it must be a word of endearment. His using it touched her, and deeply. She owed him the truth. She looked him in the eye. “I had to speak to Mr. Quinn. Alone. But I did not go unprotected. Ash and Reva escorted me to his family’s land and then they and Mr. Quinn saw me back here.”

  Still looking only respectful, Don Carlos bowed. “I would have wished you to have taken tu madre as your chaperone. May I see you to your room now?”

  She was grateful he did not ask for more of an explanation. She reached for his arm. “Yes, please. I am very tired.” She walked beside him until just outside her room. “I take it that Alandra is staying with friends tonight?” When he nodded, she asked, “Have you found Eduardo?”

  Don Carlos frowned. Then he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “He has evaded me today, but my outriders have been searching for him. We will find him. Do not let him trouble you. I will take care of Eduardo.”

  “Oh, please, I…,” she stammered, his kiss flustering her, “please don’t do anything dangerous.” She touched his sleeve. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. You’re a good man.

  In answer, he merely bowed, kissed her hand, and then urged her inside her room. There, she stood in the darkness, letting her eyes become accustomed.

  Dorritt sank down onto the chair by the window and looked down at the moonlit plaza. Her emotions had twisted her midsection into a ball like a bundle of damp clothes waiting to be pressed. Tonight by the river, she had taken the most fearless step of her life. She had exposed her very heart to Quinn. And what had been his reply to her honesty? Nothing but evasion. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the pinch of anguish tight around her lungs. I will give him time. Before I despair.

  Back at Ash’s place, Quinn tried to walk past Ash and enter the hut. But Ash waved Reva on inside and then caught Quinn’s arm. “Hold up. I’ve got a few words to say to you.”

  “I’ve had enough talking for one night.” Quinn tried to brush past Ash again.

  Ash stopped Quinn by blocking his path.

  Ash crossed his arms. “When did you turn coward?”

  Quinn bumped up against Ash, trying to make him back down. “Just because we’re friends, don’t think you can get away with calling me names.”

  “Are we friends? Do you look down at me because I’m de color quebrado? Of mixed blood?”

  The question irked Quinn, gripped him like a fist around his throat. “Of course I don’t. Why would you ask me something so stupid?”

  “Because you’re acting stupid. Your pa didn’t see you as something less because tu madre was Cherokee. And he never let anybody show disrespect to her or to him or you. Why do you?”

  Was everyone but Quinn blind? “Nothing I do or say will change the way ricos, Creoles, or the Anglos think of me. I am mestizo, I am a half-breed.”

  Ash made a sound of disgust. “¿No comprendes? Don Carlos Sandoval’s just like you. He’s a mestizo just like you are. But do you hear anybody calling him that? Anyone here throwing his mother’s Indian blood into his face?”

  Quinn stared at Ash, as he took this in. He’d never thought of Don Carlos in those terms. Dorritt had said the same. He’s a half-breed too.

  Ash went on, “Maybe the Creoles would call him mestizo in Mexico City or New Orleans. But this is Texas. And here Don Carlos is respected—why? Because he owns land. Here land is wealth. Land is power. That’s why the Anglos have come to get the land, the power. Why can’t you see getting land can work for you too? Land would make men respect you. We talked about buying a few acres and raising horses. But why not a sitio of land, thousands of acres? Like the Andersons want? Why not you too? And most of all, having a woman like Miss Dorritt as your wife would make other men respect you.”

  Quinn heard Ash, but all he could think of was Kilbride’s scorn in every look, every word he’d ever said to Quinn. “I’m not interested in the respect of men I don’t respect.”

  Ash shook Quinn’s shoulder. “Are you interested in having a life with the woman you love? You fell in love with a lady, not an Indian, or a mestiza or a mulatta—a white lady. That means you have to give up wandering, buy some land, and give her the life an educated lady deserves.” Ash pushed Quinn away from him. “And when you do, you’ll be a man no one dare disrespect. The only thing that’s stopping you is you think too small.” Then Ash turned to walk inside.

  But the voice of Don Carlos hailed them in the darkness. “Señores Quinn and Ash, may I have a word?”

  Quinn wished he could become invisible. Why did everyone—want—to—talk—tonight? “It’s late,” he growled
.

  Don Carlos’s face was cast in shadow by the scant moonlight. “My two men think they have found where Eduardo was staying in San Antonio. But he has vamoosed. Tomorrow early I intend to go after him. I plan to start out at daylight to track him and bring him back to face trial for kidnapping Señorita Dorritt.”

  A man like Don Carlos might be able to get Eduardo prosecuted. But Quinn wasn’t about to be left out of this hunt. “I’m going with you.”

  As he and Juan fled San Antonio, Eduardo was grateful for the pale moonlight. He was certain his cousin had spent this day looking for them, so they had nearly a day’s ride as a head start. Regret simmered in Eduardo’s gut. He wished he’d kept his mouth shut in San Antonio. When Pedro had sent word that he’d gone back on their deal and decided to take the señorita to Carlos instead of holding her in the place he’d been told to, he and Juan should have cleared out of San Antonio.

  But he had set up everything so carefully. He had been confident that as soon as Quinn had made it to San Antonio, he would hear the gossip Eduardo had started about Señorita Dorritt and Carlos. And if Quinn confronted him, he would continue to insist that Carlos had told him to have both kidnapped.

  Then Eduardo planned to disappear and Quinn would have hunted Carlos down. Even if Carlos had denied ordering the kidnappings, how could he prove it if there was no one as a witness? In the best of all possible outcomes, Quinn would have killed Carlos.

  Even if Quinn hadn’t killed Carlos in a duel, there would have been a scandal. And his proud cousin would have been embarrassed and the señorita’s reputation would have been under a cloud for the rest of her life. It would have even stained her children. That would have gained Eduardo some satisfaction. But Quinn had not believed Eduardo’s lies about the woman. And both Quinn and Ash had come looking for Eduardo. And now Carlos too.

  “I can’t ride all night,” Juan complained from behind Eduardo.

  “I can. If you want to face my cousin or Quinn, stop here and go to sleep,” Eduardo snapped. “If you think they aren’t preparing to hunt us, you’re a fool.”

  Juan muttered something under his breath.

  Eduardo blazed with anger. Everything was always against him. And now he was running for his life. He dug his heels into his horse and picked up the pace. Juan grumbled and Eduardo ignored him. Life never went his way. Well, he wasn’t going to give Don Carlos Sandoval the satisfaction of dragging him back to face trial at the Alamo. Never.

  Twenty

  In the graylight just before dawn, Dorritt, restless and wakeful, stood at the window in the inn and looked out over the plaza, still sleeping. She glimpsed motion below and heard the sound of horse’s hooves on the packed earth. Two horses came into view. Quinn was on the first and on the other was Ash with Reva, riding behind him. Shock rippled through Dorritt’s tired mind. And instant fear. Something was happening. Then leading his horse from behind the inn, Don Carlos walked into the plaza and hailed the other men in a low voice.

  Dorritt didn’t wait to see more. They were going to hunt Eduardo! Pulling on her wrapper, she raced down the stairs and out the front door. “Wait!” she called. “What are you doing?”

  The three men stared at her but didn’t reply. Don Carlos mounted his stallion as Ash helped Reva down. Reva came directly to her. “Now don’t make a fuss. The men have to find Eduardo—”

  Dorritt tried to interrupt.

  Don Carlos held up his hand. “Eduardo knows I would not let him go unpunished for kidnapping and lying about you or me. And that Quinn would never let the fact he’d been drugged and kidnapped go unpunished—”

  Dorritt held out her hands to him. “But why do you have to go? Won’t the commandant at the Alamo send soldiers—?”

  Don Carlos cut her off, “Here law-abiding men enforce what is right. We will bring my cousin back to face a trial for what he has done—if he doesn’t prefer death.”

  Dorritt closed her eyes. All she could think of were the long rifles the three men wore slung on their backs and the pistols in their belts. She went toward them, one hand still held up, beseeching. There would be bloodshed. And it might be Eduardo’s but it could be Quinn’s or Don Carlos’s or Ash’s—

  Don Carlos said, “Señorita, Eduardo has brought this on himself.”

  “Why did Eduardo do this?” she asked, her hand falling, her spirit sinking.

  Reva put an arm around Dorritt, stopping her.

  “One can never know what another man’s thoughts are. But as I think over the past, I see my cousin’s envy as I never recognized it before.” Don Carlos gathered his reins more tightly.

  In the early morning coolness, Dorritt made a cautious guess. “He’s envious because you are the don and not he?”

  “It must be so.”

  “But why now? You say he’s envied you for years?”

  Don Carlos lifted one shoulder. “Now that I realize that Eduardo has been my enemy and not my trustworthy cousin, I remember things that I ought to have noticed before. I think Eduardo has been stealing from me when he went on cattle drives to Louisiana. He tried very hard to dissuade me from going this time. And I was surprised when the price we got for our cattle was so much higher than in the past. I set it down to market changes, but now I think I was gullible to trust Eduardo with so much money. Maybe he feared I would take action against him. I just don’t know.”

  Don Carlos sucked in air as if it pained him. “Who knows what has been going on inside Eduardo’s heart since we were children together? When I learned that he had kidnapped you, I saw at last that he was not the cousin I thought I knew. I must have been blind not to see his resentimiento toward me. I should not have kept him at Rancho Sandoval as my foreman. I should have given him land far from me and let him be on his own. But I did not see him as I do now.” Don Carlos turned the head of his horse toward the south.

  “A man’s heart is deceitful above all things,” Dorritt whispered the scripture.

  “Unfortunately. My men will stay here protecting you. We will return as soon as we can. Buy whatever you need here. Just say my name.” Don Carlos pulled the brim of his hat toward Reva and Dorritt and then started away.

  Dorritt looked up into Quinn’s face. Why didn’t he say anything? Speak to her? But the determination in his face was unmistakable, unshakable. She pleaded with him with her eyes, yet he said nothing. And Dorritt was reminded of the first time she’d seen him in Natchitoches. He was closed to her again, a stranger again. She wrapped her arms around herself, not against the early morning chill, but the one emanating from Quinn.

  “Well, let’s go to where Eduardo was staying and pick up his trail,” Ash said, breaking the heavy silence between Quinn and her. He waved good-bye to Reva.

  Reva waved at the men as they rode away.

  At the sound of their going, Dorritt’s heart stopped, a weight like a huge boulder pressing down over it. Her fingers actually tingled with shock. She sucked in air. She had to move. She had to stop them.

  “Come on.” Reva took her arm and was leading her back inside.

  “We should have stopped them,” Dorritt said, pulling against Reva.

  “They are gone already.”

  For a moment, Dorritt closed her eyes and drew in a breath that felt jagged in her throat. In less than two months, Dorritt’s life had been flipped upside down like biscuits turned out of a pan. “I don’t want Quinn, Ash, or Don Carlos risking their lives. How can we stop it?”

  “We can’t,” Reva said flatly, leading Dorritt inside and up the steps. “The men will do what they want no matter what we say. And frankly Eduardo deserve to be shot. He kidnapped you. He kidnapped Quinn. He is trying to hurt his own cousin, his own blood. He deserve to be shot.”

  Dorritt stared at her friend in the gray light of dawn, growing brighter and brighter. “Reva, I can’t believe you’re standing there telling me that you want someone to die. I don’t want Quinn to murder—”

  “They are not going to hunt Eduardo down an
d kill him. Don Carlos said that he would bring Eduardo back to face a court.” Reva continued standing for herself, her new freedom revealing itself.

  Hanging her head, Dorritt couldn’t help showing the hurt that came with Reva’s lack of support. “But, Reva, what if Eduardo won’t come back, what if he fights and…someone is killed?”

  Reva leaned closer to Dorritt, speaking in a low fierce tone, “Then Eduardo will be the one to die and it will be his own fault.”

  Twenty-one

  The October sun was high and fierce. Quinn walked beside his horse, following the intermittent trail that Eduardo and Juan had been unable to mask while escaping San Antonio. After leaving Dorritt and Reva at the inn, Quinn, Ash and Don Carlos had gone to the abandoned jacal where Eduardo and Juan had been squatting since leaving the wagon train. They found Eduardo was heading westward, leading them deeper into the rugged country west of San Antonio, not south. The grasslands directly south wouldn’t give the outlaws any cover. Quinn had come this way years ago. Ahead on horseback, Ash slowed. He pointed down at the trace of a hoofprint in the dust and coarse grass. Nodding, Quinn mounted his horse and the three of them rode on.

  His eyes alert for anything out of the ordinary, his mind took him back to the night before. Dorritt’s beautiful face in the moonlight—so passionate, so sure of her love. For him. Riding just feet away was the man—the gentleman—who could give her everything she deserved. Quinn imagined Dorritt in Don Carlos’s arms. The image galled him, fired his jealousy just as it had during those three days when Quinn had believed that Don Carlos had ordered Eduardo to kidnap Dorritt.

  In the distance far to his right, Quinn thought he saw a glint of something. He slowed and wondered if he had imagined it. He then rode forward, letting his mind go back to a story about the Osage his father had told him beside a fire one night on the trail. Eduardo might think he was smart. But Quinn knew his father had been smarter. Quinn would keep an eye out—maybe Eduardo had heard that story too.