Spellbound Trilogy: The Wind Casts No Shadow, Heart of the Jaguar, Shadows in the Mirror

by Jeanne Rose

  "Yay!" Amelia began squirming in her mother's arms.

  Frances gave Louisa a look. "Poker, huh?" And set her daughter on the ground. "Luz, would you mind looking after them? I want to stay until Phillip finishes."

  "Only if Raul promises to teach me, too. He already beat his Papa," Luz said proudly, waddling off after the two children.

  Louisa could feel Frances staring at her. She called to Phillip, "Jog, him!"

  "Now you're spending your free time teaching the children card games?"

  Louisa was an expert at playing – and cheating – having learned from the best. The late Nate Gannon had been Ma's first business partner and Frances's first husband. "Only for fun."

  "I'm not criticizing. It's just that you work so hard already, I would think you'd want your free time for yourself."

  "I don't mind. They're great company. I like spending time with them when I can, just like you enjoy teaching every kid on the spread." After marrying Chaco and selling off her half of the Blue Sky to Belle, Frances had started a school for all the children of the estancia workers. "Kind of makes up for not having any of my own."

  Other than when she got to play "aunt" to Frances's and Luz's children, Louisa's arms remained achingly empty, and it seemed that situation wasn't about to change any time soon.

  Probably never, she thought morosely.

  "You could have children if you wanted them."

  Louisa remembered the one time when she'd thought she might be pregnant, had hoped she was if only for a few days. Thank God she'd been dead wrong. Better not to have a constant reminder of Sam around to torture her...nor to bring a child into this world without a father. She'd seen that happen to some of Ma's girls over the years, and the outcome had been pretty sad.

  "I'm not about to have children without being married," she finally told Frances.

  "I wasn't suggesting you should. I merely thought...Well, isn't there any young man who interests you, makes your heart beat a little faster?"

  So that was it. "You've been talking to Ma again, haven't you?" The two women had always conspired to give her "good" advice. While Louisa knew they both loved her, she was an adult now and capable of living her own life. Trying to discourage Frances from continuing with the discussion, she yelled to Phillip once more. "Cross the corral again and keep jogging!"

  But a little interruption didn't distract Frances from her purpose. "So what about it, Louisa? Half the hands on the ranch are crazy about you."

  "They're boys."

  "They're older than you are."

  "In years maybe."

  Frances tried a new tactic. "I didn't have the chance to marry when I was your age. Being a spinster isn't particularly satisfying."

  "I'm not exactly innocent," Louisa reminded her. After all, it had been Frances and Chaco who'd found her and Sam in that damn cave.

  "You're not real experienced, either," Frances said. "And that's not exactly what I meant. I'm talking about sharing your life with someone."

  "I have plenty of friends."

  "It's not the same."

  "I can't miss what I don't know," Louisa hedged, now getting irritated.

  She couldn't help the ache that grew inside her every time she caught Frances and Chaco in an intimate moment. Even Adolpho and Luz, two temperamental people who were always arguing made no secret of their love for each other. But she certainly didn't have to discuss her most intimate feelings with anyone, not even the woman who was her best friend.

  "Don't you ever want to get married?" Frances asked, direct at last.

  "Only to the right man."

  One who was strong and pure-hearted. One who flaunted convention and authority to do the right thing. One who could make her feel like she couldn't live without him.

  Sam Strong had been all those things.

  Before she could embarrass herself by telling Frances as much, Adolpho rode up, a frown on his face. "You two see Luz?"

  "She's with the children," Frances told him. "Why?"

  "I'm riding into Santa Fe. I figure I better tell her I won't be home for supper or she'll skin me alive when I get back."

  Louisa called out to Phillip, "You can lope Spangles now, but take it nice and easy." Then she turned to Adolpho. "What's going on? You look mean enough to eat a rattler. Live."

  "Ah, chica, your would-be lovers are acting like fools. I didn't see either Javier or Ben all morning. Then over at the bunkhouse, I heard Javier rode into Santa Fe to see his sister last night and Ben followed a while later. He'd been drinking. Said he would fix Javier once and for all. No one's seen either of them since."

  If anything happened to one of those hotheads because of their infatuation with her, Louisa would never forgive herself. "You don't think –"

  "I don't think nothing," Adolpho interrupted. "Like I said, I'm riding into Santa Fe to find them. And God help them, because when I do, I'll boot them both all the way back here."

  "I'll help you." Some righteous anger was better than fear, Louisa decided, praying neither Ben nor Javier would hurt the other seriously. "Frances –"

  "Go. I'll supervise Phillip. He can ride a while longer, then take care of Spangles just like you taught him."

  Louisa was already over the fence and running toward the small paddock where Defiant grazed. "Five minutes, Adolpho," she called over her shoulder. "Go kiss your wife goodbye."

  Kisses. Love. Bah! Nothing but trouble. Louisa couldn't believe she'd actually wasted precious moments mooning over Sam after all these years. She was not only ready to knock some sense into Javier and Ben...she knew what she would do to Samuel Strong if she ever saw him again!

  El Catorce, Mexico

  "SO WHAT DO YOU think we should do with this man who searches for us?" Tezco Baca asked his sister as they headed the column of thieves on horseback toward home. "Could this gringo named Montgomery be one of Diaz's men trying to trap us?"

  Beneath the man's hat that was part of the trappings disguising her sex, Xosi's exotic features drew into a frown. "Not likely. This man is a gringo but not a European. Diaz has no use for the Americanos nor for the old ways."

  And the madman was claiming to be the incarnation of the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl, come to see that the world didn't end, that the sun wouldn't die. Tezco spat. As if he or his sister were stupid enough to believe such nonsense.

  They had received this information about Montgomery and his quest from a lookout who'd intercepted them as they'd approached El Catorce after raiding one of the trains that transported silver from the mines to Casa de Moneda, the mint. Their man had been very worried, therefore worrying Tezco, as well.

  "We should have him brought to us on his knees and force the truth from him."

  "I do not think that would be the wisest course. We surprise him. Perhaps we will find the truth to be profitable."

  Always interested in profits, Tezco grunted his approval. He was a man of action, with no individual he'd ever met his physical equal, but Xosi was more cunning a creature than he. They made an invincible team, had done so since their parents had been killed nearly twenty years before, leaving them orphaned. Tezco had been thirteen and Xosi nine.

  He gave the dozen men who rode with them their instructions to bring the loot to an abandoned church at the edge of town. Then he and Xosi headed for home.

  "We will transform ourselves into law-abiding citizens and then pay the madman a visit," he said.

  Tezco changed into a faena suit, the simplest of charro costumes worn by ranch hands for daily chores. Brown suede chaps the color of his eyes and a shade lighter than his dark shoulder-length hair were fastened at the sides of his legs with bone buttons; a matching short jacket topped his white shirt.

  When he entered the sala, Xosi was already waiting for him, straightening her mahogany hair while gazing into the small silver-mounted mirror she always wore on a chain about her slim neck. Her lush body was barely contained by her skimpy lace-edged white camiso and calf-length red skirt. She was also s
moking a cigarrillo, a habit Tezco abhorred in women.

  She said, "Let us see what this gringo wants of us."

  Montgomery wasn't difficult to find. Muffled screams quickened their steps. A small crowd of strangers waited outside a white-washed building as a local whipped out of a doorway, cradling his arm, his face contorted in misery as he raced down the dusty street.

  Glad he'd secreted a knife at his ankle, Xosi one on her thigh, Tezco fearlessly led the way inside. Sitting near the fireplace and dressed in peasant garb was a man who appeared to be in his early fifties, despite the shock of white hair that fell to his shoulders. He held the handle of a long tool – a branding iron – whose end was enveloped in flames.

  "What the hell is this?" Tezco demanded, realizing that peasant had been branded.

  Eyes that burned through the dimness turned on him. The man rose. "Ah, finally. Tezcalipoca. Welcome."

  Tezcalipoca was the ancient god for whom Tezco's parents named him.

  Montgomery went on, "You are Tezco Baca, the descendent of Montezuma. Your blood is sacred. You are true Mexica, a man meant to rule. I was given the title Beaufort Montgomery at birth," the white-haired, white-bearded man went on. "I am also the incarnation of Quetzalcoatl, returned so that we may save our people from the world's destruction."

  Our people. Tezco wanted to sneer at the gringo though there was a myth about Quetzalcoatl being a white, bearded man. "The Mexica...the Aztecs have been dead for centuries."

  The white head shook. "Only the vestiges of the empire were destroyed. The people lived to create new generations --"

  Xosi came forward. "And what is it you hope to accomplish?"

  "You are Xosi?" Montgomery's mad eyes seemed to burn through her. He stirred the embers with the branding iron, then spotted the plaited silver chain disappearing into Xosi's camiso. "May I see your mirror?"

  "You wish to see my necklace?" She pulled the engraved, mounted piece out for Montgomery to see. It was a small replica of a hand mirror.

  "Lovely. So that you may admire your own beauty." Again, Montgomery smiled. "And so that your brother may see what is hidden, as well."

  Tezco frowned.

  "Smoking Mirror," mused Montgomery. "That is what Tezcalipoca means. A fierce warrior with a handsome face and the ability to appear and disappear at will. Not to mention that he steals any woman he wishes and foretells the future."

  A down-to-earth man, Tezco was getting uncomfortable.

  Again Xosi asked, "What do you mean to accomplish?"

  "Together, you and I and Tezco will regain our thrones."

  "Thrones?" Tezco snorted. "Have you not heard of Diaz the dictator?"

  "I care nothing for Diaz, nor should you. We, the gods...and the earthquakes...will defeat him. But with the proper planning, with the proper sacrifices, enough land will survive and the Mexica prosper. They will worship those who have saved them."

  Xosi leaned forward. "The people will prosper how?"

  "By receiving rains in abundance, by growing maize the like of which no one has seen, by finding the lost Tesoreria de Tula."

  Tezco was familiar with the legend of the underground treasury somewhere in the vicinity of Tula, an ancient Toltec and Aztec city near the capital that was now no more than a ruin.

  Caring less about rains or maize, he remarked, "No one is even certain this treasury exists."

  "I am." From the folds of his shirt, Montgomery pulled a ragged piece of hide embossed with crude lines and picture-figures. "I have a map. Though the treasury was buried in a hidden pyramid many miles north of Tula, in the vastness of forbidding mountains. That is why the Spanish never found it."

  Xosi's eyes glittered in the firelight. "So, one only needs to follow that map to find Aztec gold?"

  Which she and Tezco would happily take from the madman as soon as they got the chance.

  "If you can read the ancient hieroglyphics and utter the correct incantation that will open the massive stone door at the entrance," said Montgomery.

  Bah! Hieroglyphics and incantations. Tezco frowned. What did this crazy fool know anyway?

  "But gold is only the symbol of power," intoned the madman, reaching into his shirt a second time to remove a shiny medallion. "We cannot fully live on earth again until all five pieces of the wheel are recovered."

  "Wheel?" Tezco thought the medallion resembled the Aztec calendar found in the last century. But his experienced eye told him it was only brass.

  "This is a miniature worn by the lost pyramid's last priest/guardian," explained Montgomery. He reached down for a large leather bag from which he withdrew a chunk of gold decorated with the face of a sun god, Tonatiuh. "But this is real. The center. We must find the other four pieces."

  Gold. Xosi locked gazes with Tezco. He could see both fear and guile in her hazel eyes. They connected. Montgomery was mad, that was for certain. But he did possess real gold. And perhaps he also held the key to a treasure the likes of which brother and sister could hardly imagine.

  "We are interested."

  "And you will be amply rewarded when we find Tesoreria de Tula." The man added, "Of course, you must first show your loyalty by your willingness to suffer."

  Xosi's gaze was drawn to the iron Montgomery had used to brand the peasants. "I will be first."

  Once again, Tezco thought his little sister had to be the bravest woman in the world.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Santa Fe, New Mexico

  "NEVER MET A BRAVER WOMAN in all my born days," a sandy-haired drunk told Jack Smith.

  On the way to being drunk as a skunk himself, Sam relaxed at a table near the bar of the Blue Sky Palace, privy to every word of the cowpoke's lament to the bartender. The man's boyish visage was marred by a nose that was swollen and bruised from what must have been a recent fight. A dozen other men occupied tables or space at the bar, and it seemed that every one of them was listening, too.

  "Sounds like you've fallen in a big way," Smith said. "Have you told the little lady?"

  "She wouldn't wanna hear it. Won't even step out with me," the young man complained. "Asked to escort her to the fiesta for Don Armando's birthday next weekend, but she'd rather go alone so's she can dance with a bunch of no-accounts."

  "Who do you call a no account?"

  Sam shifted in his seat to better see the man who'd entered the conversation uninvited. A tad unsteady on his feet, a good-looking Mexican glowered at the Anglo. His jaw was bruised and he had one hell of a shiner.

  "Can't a man even drink in peace?" the sandy-haired one griped.

  A grizzled cowpoke at a nearby table guffawed, and his buddy joined him.

  The Mexican gave the men a warning look before refocusing his attention on his challenger. "That is what I intend -- to have a peaceful drink. Right here." He signaled the bartender. "Tequila."

  "Whyn't you find someplace else to swill your rotgut. Someplace where I'm not?"

  The Mexican got all huffy and Sam figured he was ready to swing at the Anglo. A couple of other dark-skinned men – Mexicans or Indians or mestizos – seemed to take the insult personally as well. One of them shoved his chair back so hard it tipped and fell over.

  "Hey, sit down!" the grizzled Anglo yelled from the next table.

  His drinking companion pulled the standing man back down before he could respond.

  Tightly, the young Mexican at the bar said, "You cannot tell me where I can or cannot buy my tequila, and you cannot tell me to stay away from Louisa."

  Louisa?

  "I can tell you anything I want. And I'll be happy to tell you where to go."

  Sam thought quick. Louisa. How many women in Santa Fe were named Louisa? Surely they couldn't be talking about his Louisa.

  Before he could ask, Smith boomed, "Boys, cool down!" He slammed an empty glass onto the bar. "This is a friendly establishment!" Nervously eyeing the room -- for everyone present seemed wired by the argument, including Sam now – he opened a bottle of tequila and filled the glass. "L
et's keep it that way."

  The sandy-haired man cleared his throat and released the wad into the brass spittoon near his foot. "Hard to do with his kind around."

  The Mexican uttered an oath in Spanish that Sam didn't quite catch, then lunged at his antagonist.

  Then the whole room erupted, with chairs and tables flying and glass breaking.

  "Fistfight!" Smith yelled, looking toward the casino as if for reinforcements.

  An unsteady Sam rose and pushed himself away from his table toward the two original combatants. He had to know who this Louisa was. But first he had to make the room stop spinning. He halted about a yard away from where they grappled with one another and tried to get his bearings.

  "Hey, boys," Sam growled, having difficulty focusing on them. The whole room seemed to be twirling around him. "Who is this Louisa?"

  He caught the sandy-haired one's attention for a moment until the Mexican got both hands around his throat. Now Sam was getting annoyed, because they weren't paying a bit of attention to him.

  "You weren't meaning Louisa Janks, were you?" he demanded, stumbling closer.

  The Mexican glanced back, gave him a heated glare. "Louisa Janks, yes. What is she to you?"

  A commotion from the casino caught Sam's attention. Several men were rushing the bar. No, the one accompanying a short, bow-legged Mexican was a woman.

  Must be seeing things.

  Sam squeezed his eyes shut as if to clear the vision, but when he opened them again, he still saw the soft curves in a man's pants, shirt and vest. Dark hair plaited in a single braid hung over one shoulder. He remembered the feel of that hair, the thick, silky texture of it, just as he remembered the bear claw necklace decorated with feathers and semi-precious stones that swung between her breasts.

  "Javier! Ben!" she was yelling. "What in tarnation do you think you're doing? Stop right now!"

  Looking startled, they did. And as they stood apart, the Mexican named Javier turned to Sam. "I asked, what is Louisa Janks to you?"

  Remembering the night in the cave, Sam knew exactly what she was to him...if only in his own mind. He tried to glower at the man, but since his face muscles weren't cooperating, he suspected his expression merely appeared foolish.