Texas Desire

by Holly Castillo

  There was a fine tremble in Angie’s hands, though, as she poured coffee.

  “Ah.” The Officer leaned back in his chair, smoothing his hand over his mustache, his eyes watching her. “Now that order has been restored, I’m sure your neighbors will return soon. It must have been uncomfortable with those heathens running this town.”

  Olivia cringed when Angie’s spine straightened and Olivia hurried to the table, hoping to prevent a disastrous situation. “Sister, we are running low on empanadas. Do you think you could make some more? I will make sure these senors have their breakfast.”

  Angie hesitated only a moment, then nodded, smiling at Olivia as she handed her the coffee pot. “I was worried we wouldn’t have enough. Do you think a dozen more?”

  Olivia shook her head. “Two at least.” She turned a smile on the soldiers at the table. “You know how much our customers love empanadas.” It wasn’t hard to smile as she made the comment.

  Angie burnt her empanadas more often than she made them right, but the soldiers had no way of knowing that.

  “What can I do for you today, senor?” she said, addressing the officer first. “We just made a new pot of menudo, or we could cook you a batch of juevos. What would you like?”

  “Some answers, Senorita Torres.”

  Olivia hoped her face didn’t not show how nervous she was. The man made her uneasy for more reasons than one. The blatant way he stared at Angie had made Olivia’s skin crawl, and now he stared at her in the same way. “I will do my best to assist you,” she said politely.

  “I came to your home the other night. We were looking for someone. Your lovely sister assisted us in our search.”

  “Yes, she told me about it. I am sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for.”

  His dark brown eyes were speculative, and his finger continued smoothing his mustache. “Why didn’t you greet us, senorita? I was under the impression you ran this household.”

  Olivia forced a smile to her stiff lips. “We all share in the responsibilities, senor. My sisters would be impossible to live with if they thought I believed myself to be in charge. My sister is a light sleeper. You had come and gone before I could even get my wrapper on.”

  His fingers slowed their movements as his eyes moved slowly down the length of her body, and she the heat of a blush touched her cheeks. “Had I known such a beautiful woman was here, I would have waited.”

  Olivia prayed her smile was still in place, but she was contemplating spilling the entire contents of coffee in his lap. “You are too flattering, senor. Now, what can I get you for—”

  “I have heard that many of these homes have cellars. Do you have a cellar, senorita?”

  Olivia couldn’t move her lips to speak. Her grip tightened on the coffee pot as her palms suddenly became damp with sweat. “Y-yes.” She swallowed. “Of course, senor.”

  “Ah.” He watched her for several moments, then leaned forward in his chair. “What do you keep in the cellar?”

  “Senor, I do not understand your curiosity over the use of our—”

  “We still have not found what we were looking for the other night, senorita.”

  “Precisely what is it that you are looking for? Perhaps I can direct you where you might have misplaced it.” Olivia instantly regretted her words. The officer was not one to be toyed with, and she was pushing the limits.

  He appeared amused, the corners of his mustache twitching. “I’m looking for a man. He is a very dangerous man who killed three of my soldiers. I would not want your family to be in danger.”

  “We have seen much in the past year, senor, and have taken care of ourselves just fine. I truly appreciate your concern, and I wish you the best of luck in finding this man. Though I doubt he would still be in San Antonio if he knows you are seeking him.”

  The officer finally smiled, and Olivia thought he would be an attractive man if only he didn’t wear the uniform of an officer in the Mexican Army. That and the fact that there seemed to be no warmth, no soul within him. She had thought the same of Cade when she first saw him. Was it still the same? Or had her feelings towards him changed in the short time she’d been with him?

  “He has not left yet, senorita. He could not.”

  Olivia cocked her head to the side, feigning interest. All she wanted to do was to get away from the man. He frightened her in a way she couldn’t explain.

  “Why not, senor? A man on foot or horse could easily leave town.”

  His smile turned frighteningly cold. “Because I cut him... I slashed him with my blade. If he is still alive, he cannot walk. I made certain of that.”

  Olivia felt ill. “Then how could he possibly have escaped you, senor?” She tried to appear concerned. “He did not hurt you, did he? Is that how he was able to get away?”

  The officer looked uncomfortable and avoided looking at her. “Like I said, he is a dangerous man.” His gaze lifted back up to hers. “I think the devil gives him strength. What else but a demon would attack my men with nothing but a pistol? He is possessed.”

  Olivia nodded in agreement. “Then may God be with you. I’m sure you will need something to eat to help you continue your search—”

  “I want to see your cellar.”

  Now Olivia knew she was going to be sick. “Perdone? I beg your pardon?”

  The officer was already standing. “For your own safety, I want to be certain he has not taken refuge in your cellar.”

  Olivia drew a quivering breath and turned towards the kitchen. “Certainly, senor, just follow me.” A thousand things raced through her mind as her eyes made contact with Angie’s. Dear God, help me through this!

  Chapter Five

  Cade wiped at the sweat covering his brow with the back of his hand and eyed the guns again. He had to get to them. His life and that of the woman who offered him shelter were at stake.

  He had awoken to the sound of boots on the floor above him and the delicious aromas of breakfast. Down in the cellar, he could only tell time by the scent of the meal cooking. His nerves were on edge. It had been nearly three days since he had awoken to find the strong-willed woman tending to his wounds. He had been close to losing his mind for the past two.

  The cocina had become incredibly silent halfway through the breakfast meal, though, and the hair on the back of his neck had stood on end. Something wasn’t right. Sitting upright, he strained to hear something—anything that would tell him what was happening. The conversation he heard caused him to break out in a cold sweat and count the minutes he had left to live.

  He looked down at his leg and tried to run the possibilities through his mind. If he tried to stand again, he would likely pass out. If he didn’t do anything, he would be shot where he lay.

  Gritting his teeth, he swung his legs over the side, his jaw muscles so tight he thought his teeth would break. Panting, he once again wiped at the sweat on his face and focused on the small table only a couple of short feet away. He could make it. He had to.

  He heard footsteps above him, heard Olivia’s voice followed by the deep rumble of a man’s voice—a man that had destroyed his life. It was now or never. Throwing himself forward, he landed face down on the ground, turning slightly so he landed more on his right side.

  The impact was still brutal and his hands bunched into fists and he squeezed his eyes shut, counting slowly until the pain became a bearable throb. The footsteps overhead stopped and he heard a latch being lifted.

  Using his forearms to drag himself, he moved faster than expected, cringing as his leg drug across the dirt floor. If he lived through this, he didn’t know if he would survive the lecture he would get from Olivia.

  He pulled himself up by the legs of the table and groaned as he felt a pull on the skin around his wound. His pistol fit into his hand perfectly, the weight a solid reassurance. He quickly checked the chamber as he heard the hinges of a door above begin to creak open, and Olivia’s voice reached him clearly. “Like I said, we just don’t use it...�
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  And he knew he was good as dead. His pistol wasn’t loaded.

  Olivia stepped back so the officer could look down. “We stopped using it many years ago, and began to have trouble with critters making homes down there. After the last time my mother was scared by a raccoon that built his home down there, my father did this.” Olivia gestured towards the hole in the floor and was relieved her hands weren’t shaking too much.

  The bricked over hole was obviously useless, and she prayed the officer would come to that conclusion. Frowning, the man kneeled down, his fingers touching the surface as though feeling it would make it more real to him. He looked up at Olivia. “Then where do you keep all of your goods? Surely you must...”

  “Oh, of course! We have a small shed out back. I hadn’t even thought...Well, I haven’t been out there in a couple of days. Do you suppose he could...This man, I mean...”

  “Oh, Olivia, surely not. Why would he take refuge in there?” Angie walked up beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, her face a worried mask. “Do you really think...?”

  Olivia turned to face the officer who was slowly standing, still frowning down at the hole. “Would you mind terribly...Would it be too much to ask of you to check... I must confess you have me rather worried...”

  The officer turned and looked at her, and the measuring skepticism in his eyes wasn’t reassuring. But quickly his eyes turned merry. “Don’t worry, senoritas. I will be sure you are kept safe. This man is as good as dead. Think nothing more of it. And I’m sorry I’ve troubled you so much this morning.”

  Angie stepped up to him quickly. “You haven’t been any trouble. I am only thankful you are watching out for us. Now with so many restless soldiers, I worry what more could happen here...”

  The soldier smiled, enjoying the attention of a beautiful woman as they walked back out towards the dining area. Once they were out of sight Olivia sagged against the china cabinet, her heart beating so hard she felt like it had lodged in her throat. Tears burned at the back of her eyes.

  They had never come this close to discovery before. No one had ever questioned about their cellar and for so long they had been safe. Her father had known, years ago, that the cellar would be the wisest place for them to keep things out of sight. But, being the wise man that he was, he had also known there would come a time when someone would search their home.

  And so he had created the false door that looked like bricks.

  Cade realized that God worked in very, very bizarre ways. When faced with certain death, his maker hadn’t given him the loaded pistol he desperately needed. Instead, He had given him a half full bottle of whiskey that tumbled off the table and directly into his lap.

  Listening to the door open overhead, Cade took the longest swallow of the burning liquid he had ever taken in his life. Perhaps, then, if Officer Shitface, as he had named him, decided to torture him, he wouldn’t feel it as much.

  But the door never opened. With half of the liquid already burning a path to his stomach he leaned forward, staring up the stairs at the door where Olivia’s voice traveled clearly. What the hell was going on?

  His hand clenched around the useless pistol and he took another long draw on the whiskey. It was just a matter of time, and surprisingly enough, his leg wasn’t hurting as much as it had been. Maybe alcohol wasn’t such a bad thing.

  The room wavered for a moment and he blinked slowly. Thank God he wasn’t going to need to defend himself. He would probably shoot the roof instead of the man that had made his life miserable.

  It had grown quiet once again upstairs, and the alcohol had hit his empty stomach hard. He wasn’t sure if it had really gone quiet or if he was already entering an alcohol induced stupor. He deliberately set the bottle to the side and tried to push himself forward, hoping to get back to the cot before Olivia came down. If she came down.

  A new thought entered his mind that brought clarity and made his palms sweat. What if they were abusing her? What if they were angry because she wouldn’t tell them where he was? What if she needed him up there?

  He glared at his leg then scanned the room, wondering if there was anything he could do. His eyes landed on the discarded sheet, and he pulled himself towards it, sweat dripping into his eyes. He was out of breath and his arms were trembling by the time he reached the sheet, but he couldn’t lose focus. Grabbing the sheet, he began to wrap it around his leg, wrapping tighter and tighter, trying to give his torn muscle some support... something so he could try to help Olivia.

  He tied the sheet in a knot, his eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Olivia needed him. She had stayed beside him all this time and tended to him, putting herself and her family at risk. He wouldn’t let them hurt her. Too many people had already been hurt because of his actions.

  He leaned back, resting against the wall for a few moments, wishing the room would stop spinning. It wasn’t helping his already wavy balance. Inching his shoulders up the wall, he brought himself to a half leaning, half stooping position and looked at the stairs. For a moment he felt helpless. How was he going to get up those stairs?

  He shook his head. First things first. He needed a weapon... a loaded one. Pushing away from the wall, he lunged forward, dragging his leg behind him. He hadn’t thought it would be so difficult, given that he was hardly putting any weight on his leg. But the pain was making it difficult to see straight. Either that or the whiskey.

  He nearly fell on the table and used it as a brace, wincing at the sound of the wood creaking beneath his hands. If the table broke and he went down, he wouldn’t get up again. He was breathing heavily, and his hair had pulled free from the leather tong at the back of his neck and covered his face. Raking his hand through it, he brushed it off his forehead and focused on an assortment of weapons and artillery on the table. Finally spotting what he was looking for, he frantically tried to load his gun.

  The door above creaked again, and his stomach fell to his feet. They had defeated her. She had cracked and said where he was. More than likely they had already killed her. He had managed to load the gun and turned to face the stairs. He would at the very least kill one of them before they took him down.

  Steps sounded on the stairs and he cocked the hammer back, his hand wavering slightly. He leaned his hip against the table, adding balance, and brought his other hand up to support the pistol. Damn, he hated being weak.

  He blinked as sweat dripped in his eyes and could feel his nerves jarring with every squeak of the boards. When a pair of small booted feet and a calico skirt came into view, he nearly dropped the gun.

  Olivia hesitated, seeing the empty cot. “Mr. Cade?” She hurried down the next few steps, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste. She froze on the bottom steps, staring at the pistol he held, then at his pale complexion. “What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”

  “Where is he?”

  “Who? You’re going to fall.” She stepped down the last few stairs but stopped when his gun wavered. “I’d prefer you set that gun down before you shoot me.”

  “Where is he?” he shook his head when she opened her mouth. “The officer! The man looking for me...”

  Olivia shook her head. “He left. About ten minutes ago. The cocina is empty now. We won’t get another rush for at least an hour. You are safe.”

  Cade lowered the gun and couldn’t contain the harsh laugh that escaped. “That’s the biggest lie I bet you’ve ever told.” He pinned her with his eyes, leaving no room for her to argue. “Safe is a world I’ll never know.”

  More of his weight shifted to the table and it creaked loudly. Olivia hurried forward, lifting one of his arms and draping it over her shoulders. “Lean on me. I’ll get you back to the cot.”

  He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to depend on this woman that had given him so much already. The longer he stayed, the greater the risk to her. He could push away from her and force himself up those stairs. He could do it.

  He let some of his weight lean on her a
nd her soft body pressed into his. He looked down at her, wishing he could see her more clearly. The lamplight gave him enough of an idea what she looked like, but he wanted to see how her skin and hair looked in the sunlight.

  She hesitated, glancing up at him, concern on her face. Was she really concerned for him? It was impossible to believe. But he wanted to think someone cared. Even if it was someone who didn’t know all the terrible things that had happened to people because of his actions.

  “Mr. Cade?”

  “I need to leave.”

  Her eyes widened at his comment. “Eventually, yes, I agree. I’m not planning on harboring you down here forever. Though you do make an interesting patient.”

  Cade was curious, he couldn’t help it. “Have you had many patients here before?”

  She shook her head, smiling slightly. The smile did wonders for her face, drawing him closer. “So far, only one. I hope it remains that way.”

  Her arm wrapped around his waist and the feel of her cool fingers against his skin reminded him he didn’t wear clothes. “Are you always this comfortable around naked men?”

  A blush touched her cheeks and she encouraged him to step forward. “Thank you, Mr. Cade, for pointing out the obvious. I was doing my best to ignore it. How is your leg?”

  “I think it is strong enough for me to leave.” He leaned more heavily on her as he tried to drag his leg behind him.

  “Yes, I can see that,” she said dryly, stiffening her shoulders to try to support his weight. “Where exactly are you in such a rush to?”

  She tried to pivot with him so that he could sit on the cot, but it didn’t work. He pitched forward and she stumbled backwards, pinned beneath him. For a moment he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to move. She smelled of warm cinnamon and bread and woman, and he couldn’t think of a better aroma. With his face buried against her neck, he took a deep breath, then another, feeling light-headed.

  He felt her heart beating faster, and her fingernails dug into his arms. “Mr-Mr. Cade...”