“He’s never been a father to me, so stop shoving him down my throat! I don’t want to see him! I don’t want to speak with him! There’s nothing he can say to justify his actions! I hate him! Is that clear enough, Lynx?” she panted in anguish.
“If you hear him out, Calinda, we could both learn the truth and be free of the past,” he suggested to her astonishment.
The letter intrigued her, but pained her deeply. Reading the hatred and coldness in his eyes and tone, she accused angrily, “You mean, set a trap for him so you can gun him down!”
“Do you care?” he asked indifferently.
“He’s a person, Lynx; I don’t want you killing anyone. No matter how wicked he’s been in the past, he’s my father. If you slay him, we could never be happy together. Please, I’m begging you; don’t chase this vengeful dream. Rankin and I need you here. Have you forgotten about the rustlers and that man who tried to gun down you two? Are you forgetting someone can slip in and out of this house?”
“Your messenger takes the blame for that incident, to stall us out there until you found this note,” he frigidly informed her.
“You mean he’s that dangerous, and you want me to walk into his den? I don’t believe what I’m hearing. My God, you westerners are all crazy and violent! I won’t go!” she stated defiantly. “And if you do, don’t expect to find me here when you return!” she added. Suddenly she was furious with him. He was acting as if she were conspiring with her father. “If my father is so evil and yellow that he can’t come to me here, then he doesn’t deserve to see me again. He made his decisions long ago; he’ll have to abide by them. It’s over.”
Lynx began to chuckle. “Excellent, my love,” he murmured happily, winking at her. Shocked by his genial mood, she gaped at him. “I just wanted to be certain you wouldn’t feel drawn to him again. I was afraid his letter would compel you to Dallas. Now, I know I’m more important to you than he is. You’re right, love; it’s finally over.”
Calinda glared at him, breathing heavily. She balled her fists and pounded on his chest until he seized them and stared at her in confusion. “Damn you, Lynx Cardone! How dare you pull a trick like that! It’s unforgiveable! Your little note scared the wits out of me! Do you know how you frightened me, to think someone could sneak into our bedroom unnoticed! If you don’t trust me by now, I don’t belong here. How could you be so cruel and spiteful! Get your lousy hands off me!” she shrieked.
“Hold on a minute, love,” he demanded, tightening his grip to keep her from pulling free. “I didn’t have anything to do with the note! I was just trying to make sure it wouldn’t entice you to follow its urgent summons. That’s why I was picking at you. I had to know what you were feeling. I didn’t write it, Cal; I swear.”
Their gaze fused. Each was speechless as the other’s words and actions settled in. “You didn’t write it?” she inquired shakily.
“No, love, I didn’t. I was just as shocked as you were.”
She ceased her struggles. “Then who did?” she agonized.
“I hate to say it, Cal, but Brax. Read it and you’ll see why,” he coaxed, his gaze unreadable, as was his tone of voice.
Calinda glanced at the letter still clutched in her love’s tight grip. She longed for the truth. But could she seek it at any price? Could she allow her father to keep torturing them in this cruel manner? Even if she followed the letter’s instructions, it might be another wild-goose-chase. To go to her father might appear a betrayal of the Cardones. Besides, she had plenty of clues about her father’s actions. There was nothing he could say to justify his evil deeds.
It was a difficult decision, but she made it. She shook her head, tears welling on her lower lids and threatening to spill over their narrow banks. “You know what that other letter did to me; I can’t punish myself like that again. He killed himself to me, and I must let him remain buried in the past. I want him out of our lives, to stop causing a breach between us. Don’t you see, Lynx? No matter what he says, he can’t ever be a part of my life again, not after what he did to you and Rankin. Swear you won’t go to Dallas. I could never forgive either of you for hurting the other. If I must choose between you two, I want my husband, the man I love more than life itself. If you truly love me, swear it.”
Lynx pulled her into his arms and hugged her fiercely. How could he ever love her more than he did at this very moment. Yet, if he didn’t do something about Brax, her father might continue to interfere in their lives. Brax held certain weapons which he could use against the Cardones, weapons to possibly destroy his life with Cal. Still, he had to handle this matter in such a way as to remain honest with her. “I won’t go to Dallas, love,” he vowed, mentally adding, but I will go to town tomorrow and send a telegram for a friend to check out this riddle…
Chapter Nineteen
Wednesday and Thursday were relatively calm days on the ranch. For some unknown reason, the rustling and fence-cutting abruptly halted. Lynx insisted on running the ranch while Rankin nursed his injured arm for a few days. Between Calinda’s healing bruise and Rankin’s disabled arm, they spent more time together. They played cards and took short walks. They even planned a large barbecue for early September when Lynx should be home to stay.
Lynx was out most of both days, giving orders or checking on various chores. This time of year hinted at the approaching fall when all ranches were active with round-ups, solitary ones if the ranch size allowed it or a joint one when several smaller ranches banded together for protection along the trail to the stockyards near the train depot.
At night, Rankin and Calinda would join Lynx and other cowboys as they played or listened to music, tossed horseshoes, or re-lived olden days when life was perilous and challenging. Some of the men would sit around the table in the bunk houses drinking coffee and playing poker. It was the rule that hard drinking could be done only on Saturday night or Sunday, when the men were off, except for the few selected for that weekend’s chores.
Friday was an exciting day. To practice for the fall round-up and to provide tension-breaking entertainment, the ranch-hands were involved in a mockrodeo. Volunteers took turns breaking-in captured broncos, wild stallions and obstinate mustangs. There was a stirring bout of calf-roping, then a delightful session of trick roping. Rankin told Cal the men weren’t permitted to ride bulls to prevent injuries. They rode horses, instead.
After observing the dangerous bronco-busting for a while, Calinda was relieved her husband didn’t attempt such sport. But she could see the gleam of desire in his eyes; she could sense the eagerness to be on the back of one of those bucking stallions. When the hands encouraged Lynx to try it, he laughed and told them, “Next time,” saying he couldn’t risk an injury today. Knowing Lynx Cardone was exceptionally brave and daring, they accepted his explanation.
When Steve suggested they have target practice and a shooting contest, Calinda was given a first-hand observation of how fast and accurate Lynx was with his Colts. He could draw and fire in the flicker of an eye. She shook her head several times during the contest, wondering how the target could explode before she saw Lynx react to the “fire” shout. His movements were so fluid and swift, one moment he was poised ready and in a flash he was limber and the action was over! It almost seemed as if Lynx hadn’t moved a muscle, as if he had wished the target shattered. It looked a greased reflex, so easy and natural, as if man and weapon were briefly one. Lynx never missed a target or failed to be first. In each instant, the gun was back in his holster before the others had drawn and fired. Cal was amazed.
At dinner, Cal kept staring at Lynx in astonishment. When he grinned and asked why she was watching him so strangely, she said, “You’re so fast; if I blinked, I missed your shot. You hit every one, Lynx. No wonder you’ve never been beaten; I doubt any man could.”
Laughter spilled forth into the room. Lynx winked at her and teased, “I thought you said there was always a better challenger.”
“That was before I saw how perfect you are
. I suppose I should relax now, but it frightens me even more,” Cal confessed.
“Why?” Lynx asked, bemused and flattered.
“Too many gunslingers will demand to take your place. Don’t you get tired of the killing and fighting? It’s like one endless nightmare of death and violence. What if eager men pursue the colorful legend here?” Cal sadly expressed her fears.
“I don’t kill or fight unless there’s no other way out, Cal. Once I retire from the scene, they’ll forget about me, be glad I’m gone.”
“I recall reading about Wesley Hardin. Did the Rangers forget him when he fled Texas? No, they relentlessly pursued and captured him. Legends don’t retire so easily, my love,” she asserted warily.
Calinda wondered why both Rankin and Lynx had tensed at her mention of the Rangers, but she didn’t question their reactions. If Lynx was in trouble, she would have heard about it. “Wes killed for the fun of it, love; I don’t. Besides, he was an outlaw; I’m not.”
“If you weren’t rich, would you use your expert talents in that line?” Calinda stunned Lynx with a curious and serious question.
He threw back his head and laughed heartily. “No way, love.”
To alter the topic, Lynx dropped his dismaying news on her. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow for the last time, so you best get prepared to lose your privacy. I got a telegram today, and I’m needed.”
Calinda’s head jerked up as she protested, “Leaving? Tomorrow? But you can’t. What about the problems and dangers at home? We need you, don’t we, Rankin?” she sought Rankin’s assistance.
Rankin sighed heavily, knowing the details of his son’s trip. “I’m fine, Cal. The sooner Lynx leaves and gets this matter settled, the sooner he’ll be home for good. I can’t complain; this was his longest visit in years.. I think you’re responsible for the change in him.”
“You can’t be serious,” she refuted Rankin’s words.
“This wrist is nearly healed. I can manage things now. Those rustlers have moved on to other pastures. We’ll be all right until he gets home,” the man reasoned, smiling at his son. “I’ve been on my own a lot longer than Lynx. I can defend my land and family.”
Calinda’s stupefied gaze shifted from one man to the other. How could Lynx leave his home and family at a time like this? Why would his father encourage it? Witnessing their determination, she knew further debate was useless. “Where are you heading?” she asked.
“To Waco, then San Antonio,” Lynx reluctantly deceived her. The telegram from Jones had said Dallas, then Austin. If he told her where he was heading, Cal would think he was breaking his promise. He would explain later when he returned from the state capitol.
“For how long?” she asked distantly.
“Anywhere from one to six weeks,” he confessed uneasily, watching her reaction to that displeasing information.
“Six weeks would put it at mid-September. What about the round-up and barbecue?” she pressed dejectedly.
“I’ll try to make it home before then,” Lynx subtly promised.
“The barbecue can be cancelled, but not he round-up. We won’t do social planning until we hear when you’ll be home,” Cal wisely yielded to this vexing situation. At least he had added eight more days to their time together. But if this didn’t turn out to be his last time-consuming adventure, they would need to have a very serious discussion about their marriage and his feelings…
After dinner, Lynx and Calinda went to their room to spend time together before his imminent departure. Most of the soreness was gone from her hip, but it still boasted loudly of a purplish-blue reminder. On the surface Lynx was in a mellow and romantic mood, but inwardly he was dreading and resenting this new separation. He knew how it must appear to her at this trying time. He had no choice but to stall an explanation until his return. On this journey he would send frequent messages home to keep himself alive in her mind.
Calinda was exceedingly quiet and almost unresponsive tonight. Each time Lynx sought to draw her out of her remote shell, she would sigh heavily and make some nonsensical comment. She determined she wouldn’t quarrel with him tonight, or plead for him to remain with her. But she was dismayed by how easily and readily he could pick up and leave after what they had shared recently and the new dangers around them. Her confidence in their closeness was slowly vanishing.
“You planning to pout and rub that icy shoulder against me all night?” he playfully ventured to bring an end to her distance.
“Surely you don’t expect me to be cheerfully resigned to your leaving? You haven’t even left and I miss you terribly,” she said.
He laughed softly as he pulled her into his entreating arms. “If you were glad to see me leave, I’d be worried sick, woman.”
Cal was so tempted to break her promise to herself, to cry and beg him not to go. What hurt most was knowing she couldn’t do anything to alter his plans. She wanted to scream and argue with him; she couldn’t. But neither could she behave as if all was wonderful.
Following two hours of blissful lovemaking, Lynx lay awake for a long time. He fretted over the way Calinda had struggled to control her responses to him, how she had tried to accept their lovemaking dutifully and not give passionately. He could almost read a resentful glitter in her eyes at his power to sway her masked resistance to mindless surrender. Lynx sensed she rebelled inwardly against her greedy body’s power over her warring senses. Finally Cal had dismissed her futile guard and given herself over to his prowess and will, submitting wildly to tantalizing ecstasy. He worried over the way she had turned her back to him and wept softly after she thought he’d fallen asleep. Was it merely his departure which was affecting her this way? Was she doubting his love and commitment? What more could he say or do?
At seven on Saturday morning, Lynx nudged his wife and called her name to awaken her. He dared not slip off again. Besides, leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do. He craved a warm send-off.
Calinda yawned and stretched, opening her eyes. Lynx smiled down at her, fluffing her hair. “You want to sleep longer or eat breakfast with me before I ride out?” he inquired.
“What time is it?” she asked, trying to clear her hazy mind.
“Seven. I need to eat and pack a few things. I’d like to get going before that sun’s too high and hot. I know you’re tired, Cal, but I needed to spend time with you this morning,” he revealed.
“Give me a few minutes to dress, then I’ll prepare our breakfast.”
“Salina should be up; she can do it,” her husband suggested, wanting her with him every minute.
“If you don’t mind, I would prefer to cook my husband’s last meal home. In case you aren’t aware of the fact, I’m a good cook.”
He smiled roguishly. “You’re good at many things, love. If Salina enters the kitchen, tell her we want to be alone this morning.”
“She’ll love that,” Calinda scoffed under her breath.
“Who cares what she thinks, love?” he asked breezily.
“I did, but no longer. I’m tired of going beyond half way for peace with her. It’s time you and Rankin accept the fact, she will never like me or my presence. I’ve never been a quitter, but I give up on her. I have other matters to consume my concentration.”
“Cal, are you feeling all right this morning? You look a bit pale. I think you’re working too hard,” he noted.
“The harder I work, the better I sleep when you’re gone.”
“How can I debate that stirring excuse?” he murmured.
“I shouldn’t have told you; now, you’ll never get your hat on the enlarged head,” she jested, deciding to play it lightly this morning.
“Zat a fact, Mrs. Cardone? You adding conceit to my long list of bad traits?” he teased.
“I think you’re so self-assured that it comes across as enormous ego and arrogance. I think you’re too accustomed to getting your way and wishes. No doubt I’m the first problem you can’t settle with those blazing Colts and your great prowess,
” she remarked saucily.
His chest rumbled with laughter. “You’re right, Cal. You’re the most exasperating, challenging, and refreshing task I’ve confronted. Sometimes I can’t decide if I’m coming or going with you.”
“I can tell; it’s usually going, too much and too long,” she quipped as she brushed her tangled hair, her gaze flickering over him.
“I’ll remind you of your demands when you grow weary of having me underfoot,” he said, trying to sound stern.
“Save your breath, love, because I won’t,” she retorted coyly.
“We’ll see,” he mused aloud, passing his tongue over his lips.
“Yes, we will,” she concurred. “See you downstairs.”
“I’m coming with you. I’d like to see my wife in action.”
“Afraid I’ll poison you? Make you sick so you can’t leave?”
“I wouldn’t put any trick past you, woman,” he told Cal.
“Why, Lynx Cardone, how wicked of you.”
Lynx sat at the table sipping coffee and watching Cal as she prepared their breakfast. Salina had left in a huff when Lynx dismissed her from her duties. When all was ready, Cal served him with a bright smile. “See, I’m not utterly helpless.”
They ate in near silence, the weight of his remaining time sinking down on them. Afterward, Lynx told Cal to leave the dishes for Salina and to keep him company while he packed his saddle-bags. She didn’t argue or refuse, but followed his lead upstairs.
Cal stood at the end of the bed, clutching the tall post as if she required its support. Suddenly, she couldn’t think of anything to say. She simply watched Lynx, her eyes easing over his arresting face and virile body. How was it possible to love and need another person so much that it hurt to be separated from him. With his departures, he seemed to take the air and sunshine from her life. Unlike a morning glory with the blazing sun, she folded her petals when his heat vanished.
First Love Wild Love Page 38
