by Jeanne Rose
"I bite back," she warned, narrowing her thick-lashed brown eyes. "Besides, you don't really want to hurt me. You're just scared, aren't you?" She kept both voice and hands gentle and soothing as she moved her head close enough to his so that her warm breath fanned his flaring nostrils. An Indian trick to make the stallion hers. "Let's walk around, use up some of that energy of yours."
Normally she wouldn't tack a wild horse until it was calm in her presence, but she'd haltered the stallion to get him off the ranch. Now, using a short lead, she walked him around what was actually a tiny box canyon. The natural corral cut into striated, multi-colored stone dotted with sagebrush and stunted juniper whose walls went practically straight up. Its fairly narrow opening had been easy to secure with a bunch of split logs, some removable for access. She seldom used the place since it was so far from the main buildings, but now she was glad she'd had some of the boys set it up for her last year, an alternative to using the ranch corrals when some of the horses came down sick.
Her big bay gelding, Defiant, stood tied on the other side of the crude fence, watching, rolling his eyes so she could see the whites. He neighed and snorted indignantly when they approached. The stallion answered, legs dancing.
Louisa kept walking, kept stroking the black's neck. "Calm down," she soothed. "Defiant's a little jealous is all. He doesn't like me paying so much attention to such a fine looking fellow as yourself."
She circled him several more times until he quit spooking. Then, stopping him at the far end of the corral from Defiant, she used an ayate, a coarse fiber bag, to groom the stallion. His flesh rippled at the new sensation and he gave her what she considered to be a filthy look that made her grin, but he didn't move away.
When he whinnied, Louisa laughed. "I knew you'd like it. Feels good, huh?"
The stallion tossed his head and looked straight forward as if refusing to agree out of spite. Still grinning happily – for this was a better beginning than she'd hoped for given his unpredictable temperament – Louisa continued working, placing more weight on his back for short periods of time, careful to stay out of kicking range of his long legs as she circled him to work on his other side.
Not that he even tried to stomp her.
She had a way with horses – some called it magic – the ability no doubt inherited from her father Red Knife, who'd died before she was born. Even though her mother had tried to make a lady of her, had sent her to an assortment of finishing schools from which she'd been expelled, Louisa had always known she would be happiest surrounded by her treasured horses. And when she'd finally finished the education Belle Janks had been so anxious for her to have, Louisa had firmly stated her intentions for the future. No drawing rooms and fancy get-ups for her.
Thank goodness Chaco and Frances Jones had given her the job she'd begged for more than three years ago. Gentling, grooming and feeding horses while wearing a skirt, split or no, was a ridiculous proposition, so she'd happily adopted men's attire while working. And she'd enjoyed shocking everyone in Santa Fe that time she'd ridden to town wearing men's trousers, too. But, giving in to Ma's histrionics, she'd promised to change into something more ladylike before heading into town thereafter.
Louisa was just finishing up the grooming that at least removed a layer of dust from the stallion's thick coat when she heard hoofbeats approaching the canyon.
"Uh-oh, you're on your own until tomorrow morning."
Removing the lead, she gave the stallion a firm, light pat on his rump. He scooted away from her and rolled his eyes. She'd left him straw, a bucket of feed and another of water, which she hoped he wouldn't kick over. With a big sigh, she went to face the two undoubtedly angry men who were fast approaching the small canyon.
Chaco Jones, natural son and sole heir of Armando de Arguello, ran his ailing father's estancia. Even from a distance, she could see the dour expression making his rugged face look hard and mean. While she had the utmost respect for her boss, he didn't scare her like he did a lot of people. So what if he was a reformed gunslinger. As for Adolpho, a tough knife-wielding compatriot of Chaco's who worked as his ranch foreman, Louisa thought of the Mexican as the older brother she'd never had. He'd looked out for her when she'd visited the Blue Sky Palace, her mother's business, for years before quitting to work for Chaco and Frances.
The coming encounter was certain to be more irritating than alarming.
"Looking for me?" she called as she neared the fenced side of the corral.
"You got a lot of nerve, Louisa Janks," Chaco said as he brought up his buckskin next to Defiant. "You know what they do to horsethieves in this territory."
"You gonna hang me, then?" she asked, grinning.
"Some respect for your employer, chica."
Reining his Paint next to Chaco's mount, Adolpho glared at her, and Louisa forced herself to hide any signs of amusement. She wouldn't be smiling much longer if she couldn't talk the men out of destroying the stallion, anyway.
Almost to the fenced area, she heard the thunder of hoofbeats following. Fast.
"Louisa, look out!" Chaco growled.
She flew around to see the stallion heading straight for her. He appeared indignant and determined to run her over. A flutter shifted her innards around, but she didn't move. Didn't run. Hand slipping to the leather thong around her neck, she grasped the bear claw woven with beads and feathers, her only reminder of her Comanche ancestry that Ma had saved for her. The token had kept her safe for twenty-two years and she didn't doubt it would do so again.
Even so, she couldn't help the thrill pumping her heart hard and choking off her breath as she faced down more angry horse than she'd ever dealt with before. She felt as if a powerful locomotive were bearing down on her.
"Girl, what the hell's wrong with you? Get over here!"
She ignored Chaco, concentrated her energy on the stallion who was fast closing the gap between them. Her heart climbed into her throat, but still she didn't move. She heard Adolpho mutter a prayer for her soul in Spanish.
"You will not hurt me, El Tigre," she said aloud and fairly calmly as the stallion rushed her.
But Louisa felt his heat before he swerved to the left, his big body barely missing hers, his coarse tail whipping her in the face. He'd taken a coupe off her, that was all. Just to show her he could.
And just to show him he hadn't intimidated her, Louisa turned her back on the circling stallion and calmly walked toward the two angry men who were about to open the corral.
"Don't you dare!" she warned them. "If he gets away, you'll have to help me catch him again!"
The men stopped as if they worked for her rather than the other way around. Both their gazes fixed on a spot over her shoulder and Louisa knew the stallion was making a second pass. She refused to look his way, and, indeed, she heard him turn while he was still some distance from her. She reached the fence and climbed through an opening, only then checking to see what the wild horse was about. He continued to circle, but at a less frantic pace. She couldn't wait to feel that power under her when she finally got to ride him.
"He's showing off. Isn't he the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"
"Dios, you have a stomach of iron," Adolpho muttered.
"But a soft heart. I couldn't let you destroy him."
"That wasn't your decision to make," Chaco reminded her, his spooky gray gaze on her.
He wasn't any better at intimidating her than the stallion. Louisa stood her ground, arms crossed, staring up at him. "You gonna fire me?"
"I oughta."
"What you oughta do is give me the time to work with him just like you would any of the other horses."
Chaco scowled, hardening his already rough-edged features. "Let me get this straight. You want to be paid to work with a horse that was supposed to be destroyed?"
She nodded.
"Your head is as hard as his!"
He hadn't said no, Louisa realized. "And when he's trained, I'll buy him from you."
"Oh, yo
u will, will you?"
"It would only be fair since he was caught on your spread by your men."
"I'm right glad you're willing to be fair."
"Of course," Louisa went on, knowing she was pushing her luck, "I'll need some help to bring out a decent supply of straw and feed and water..."
"Can we talk about this on the way home?" Now Chaco was sounding downright irritated. "Frankie figured you got into trouble again. If I don't get you back fast so she can see for herself that you're in one piece, she'll have the vapors."
"You're the boss."
Louisa was unable to hide her grin, especially when Adolpho made a rude noise in covering a laugh that made his sparse mustache quiver. Frances Jones had never had the vapors in her life, but Louisa wasn't about to argue the point. She'd won, after all. Quickly mounting Defiant, she pulled her horse between the men's.
"Chica." Beneath his fall of dark curls, Adolpho wore a serious expression. "You must stop taking such crazy chances. You may not always be so lucky as to walk away unhurt."
A flush of irritation shot through Louisa. "I always know what I'm doing."
Not in the mood for any lectures, she kept her gaze on the surrounding mountains and foothills while urging Defiant to take the lead. Her life was her own and she would run it any way she saw fit.
She didn't fear being hurt.
She didn't even fear death itself.
"LOUISA’S GOT A death wish," Belle Janks lamented. The former madam paced the length of the Blue Sky Palace bar that was empty in the middle of the afternoon but for Jack Smith, the silver-haired bartender. "I swear she's trying to get herself killed."
Frances Jones watched from the small table where she sat and nursed a sarsaparilla. Having inherited half of the Blue Sky from her first husband Nate Gannon, she'd sold her share to Belle upon marrying Chaco. Since a few of her girls had either married or changed professions, Belle had closed The Gentleman's Club and now relied on the income from the hotel and casino. In town to pick up supplies for her students, Frances had stopped at the Blue Sky to catch up and had been distressed to learn Belle had already heard the details of her daughter's latest escapade.
Hoping to reassure her friend, Frances said, "Louisa is merely spirited."
"Hah! When she was a kid, she was spirited." The tops of Belle's breasts quivered above the lace and bow-trimmed green bodice that set off her dyed red hair. "Now Louisa's plumb wild. Not the way I feared, of course. Not with men. Damn it all, I didn't mean to make her hate men, Frankie!"
"She doesn't."
"Or afraid of 'em. I only wanted her to have something better'n me. I always hoped she'd meet some nice proper young man who'd marry her and give her a good home and babies. But it don't seem like that's ever gonna happen. Ain't nothing I can do to put sense into the girl's head."
"If you want, I'll try talking to her, try to find out what might be bothering her."
"Would you, Frankie, honey? You've always been able to reach her."
Not always. Frances supposed Louisa had set such store in her because she'd been the young woman's teacher in Boston. Louisa had gotten herself expelled from Miss Llewellyn's School for Girls and Frances fired with her – both unfairly, of course, the whole thing having to do with Louisa's "heathen" ancestry. But that had been a long time ago. More than six years. And it had been equally long since Lieutenant Samuel Strong had been transferred to Fort Sill, Oklahoma.
Louisa had never been forthcoming about him.
As if Belle could read her mind, she asked, "You don't think she's still in love with that Strong fella, do you?"
"Louisa told you she loved him?"
"A mother knows some things. Just 'cause I didn't make no fuss when you and Chaco brought them two back from the desert don't mean I'm stupid." Belle wrung her hands. "I saw him the day he left town."
"You talked to him?"
Belle shook her head. "Just watched. I was glad he was riding outta my little girl's life. I wanted to protect her from the terrible things that happened to me when I was young." Her voice had a catch in it. "I didn't know he was gonna take part of her with him."
"I'm sure she's over him by now," Frances said, though she wasn't certain of any such thing. She merely wanted to make Belle feel better.
"Maybe you're right."
Frances truly hoped so, for she doubted Lieutenant Samuel Strong even remembered Louisa Janks. If he had cared for the stunning, wild, pure-hearted young woman as Frances had believed at the time, surely he would have written if not returned to Santa Fe years ago. If he had truly been a man in love, she couldn't imagine anything stopping him.
Fort Bowie, Arizona Territory
"STRONG, YOU’VE GOT TO stop this nonsense before it's too late!" Major Eli Hart shouted, his full mustache bristling, his beefy face reddening. "Think before you throw away your career. You're a West Point man, for God's sake!"
As was Major Hart.
Sam Strong thought about the horrors he'd seen over the past half-dozen years, the atrocities against the Indians – primarily the Apaches – that he'd participated in as an officer in the U.S. Cavalry. Nightmares drove him to give up his commission. Nightmares caused by nagging guilt. He sure as hell didn't want to rack up more black marks on his soul. He could hardly live with himself as it was.
"I'll settle on a new career," Sam said tightly.
One that took him far away from the stench of blood and death.
For a moment, his tortured spirit returned to the mountain stronghold where his unit had trapped several dozen Apache, mostly women and children and old men. He could still hear the death screams of the innocents as clearly as if the incident had occurred yesterday rather than several years before.
"What would your father say about this?" Major Hart was still trying to talk him out of resigning. "He was so proud of you!"
Only because he'd never known how low he'd sunk, Sam thought.
"My father's dead. I guess he won't have anything to say, now, will he?"
The expected explosion from the Major never came. Instead, he shook his graying head and asked, "Will you do me a personal favor...do one last job for your country? There's a madman named Montgomery...needs to be stopped before he's responsible for more deaths."
"Since when does the army go after murderers?"
"Since he thinks he's some sort of god and is gathering followers. Could be he's gathering troups. Has a grievance against the Union Army. Major Anderson at Fort Marcy would be the one to fill you in."
Fort Marcy...New Mexico Territory...Intriguing though the things he'd fallen in love with about the area, especially the young woman with wild dark eyes and a spirit to match, were sure to be long gone. Besides, how could he face her with this blackness in him?
Rising from behind his massive desk, Major Hart asked, "Will you do this one thing for me?"
Reluctantly, Sam nodded. "For you." Only hoping he wasn't making a mistake.
"Then good luck to you, son." Hart held out his hand for a vigorous shake. "Tough world out there away from the Army. Maybe this'll change your mind."
"I doubt it."
Sam returned to his quarters to pack the few belongings he would take. An extra uniform would be his only reminder of his seven years with the Army except maybe the heliograph equipment he'd bought himself. He wondered if he could leave his nightmares behind, as well. He hoped so, for surely that would leave him free to dream again.
He picked up a Bible and hesitated putting it in his leather satchel. He wasn't worthy of God's love, not anymore. And yet he couldn't leave the present from his mother behind. His long fingers flared over the leather cover, and he allowed the book to fall open where it would.
Caught in the binding was a small feather, dark and tattered with age.
A rush of longing shot through him as he touched the reminder of a certain bear claw necklace and the night that he'd obtained the feather from it. Louisa Janks had been the best thing that had happened to him in his twenty-nin
e years. He could still see her mocking smile as she challenged his stuffy pretensions. She'd loved taunting him, calling him a pretty tin soldier.
Well, he wasn't so pretty anymore, inside or out.
Memories flooded him. He could still feel the silk of Louisa's hair...taste the sweetness of her mouth...
He snapped shut the Bible and quickly stuffed it into his satchel.
Louisa Janks was Mrs. Somebody Else now, another man's wife and mother to the unknown man's children. Several, probably. He needed a reality check if he even imagined she remembered more than his name, Sam told himself.
He wasn't going to Santa Fe to see her.
Startled, he realized the wind would have no say. He'd made up his mind. With all the options he had open to him, he would return to the one place he never wanted to forget.
He wouldn't think about the woman.
CHAPTER TWO
Nuevo Laredo, Mexico
HE COULDN'T THINK about the past.
Beaufort Montgomery put the last twenty-two years behind him as easily as he did Texas. His raft cut across the waters of the Rio Grande, bringing him to a haunting land that he'd only visited in the past, yet he knew as home.
Mexico.
The Mexica. A dozen or so brown-skinned people gathered at the bank, several pointing – no doubt at the oddity he presented. A lone man, pale-skinned, white-bearded and white-haired, traveling from the east on a raft teeming with snakes.
But these people were merely peasants. Would any of them realize the significance of what they were witness to?
"Keep warm, my little brothers," he told the serpents as his light craft rushed the bank.
Then he leaned over and with each hand grabbed a rattlesnake behind the head. He held them high and spread his arms in greeting while other reptiles crawled over his feet.
On the bank, the ignorant natives huddled, chattering, appearing ready to run. He was ready to take them in hand – to instruct them, lead them, and ultimately to save them.
