by Jeanne Rose
"Spirits?"
"And ghosts of ancestors. We rode a trail into Mexico that our father and his people used to take. We both wore the bear claw so we'd recognize each other. Perhaps he came with us."
Though Louisa thought it would take more than a ghostly ancestor to get them out of Beaufort Montgomery's clutches. Still, destiny had thrown them together, surely for a purpose. Surely not so that they would meet, then die.
"Red Knife had a thousand horses, but his not being able to keep his mouth shut about where he got them got him hanged. Horses were the key to Comanche freedom."
Louisa stared off into the distance, at the clouds floating above the craggy peaks. Though it seemed long ago, she'd loved nothing better than galloping across New Mexican mesas with her hair flying behind her. "I like my freedom, too."
"Uh, huh. You're damned good with horses and have the courage of a warrior. Our father would have been proud of you."
"Think so? I guess your saying that is the closest I'll ever get to him and the Comanche now." She sighed. "I grew up in an Anglo world, was persecuted because of my Indian blood and I never even came close to leading an Indian life. Half of me was missing, like I belonged nowhere and with nobody but Ma."
"Now you also belong with me, your brother."
Louisa swallowed, felt tears at the back of her eyes. Though the thought still stunned her, she wasn't going to get all emotional. When Monte offered his hand, she clasped it tightly.
"I wasn't joking when I said a good spirit may have brought us together," he told her. "We should pray to God, to every spirit that fights against death, nourishes life."
Pray. Worship life instead of death. Though not particularly church-going religious, Louisa nonetheless firmly believed in an all-around great spirit, a wise creator with many faces and names.
"Praying sounds good," she told Monte. "Maybe there'll be a miracle. Or we'll figure out some way to pull one off."
Miracles certainly didn't seem impossible, not after finding out she had a brother, someone who seemed to be the link between herself and her Indian heritage. Grateful, not certain whether he'd like it, she half-rose to hug Monte. He responded warmly.
When he released her, she smiled into his eyes...until his gaze slid away, focusing on something or someone behind her.
"Must you have every man in the canyon?"
Xosi. Surprised, Louisa rose to face the Mexican woman. Her thick mahogany hair long and loose, dressed in a clean skirt and white camisa, Xosi was attractive, if as petulant as usual.
"Were my brother and the soldier not enough?" Xosi went on, taking a puff on a cigarillo.
Louisa frowned. "You don't know what you're talking about."
Xosi made a threatening motion but Monte intervened, stepping between them. "Louisa is my sister."
"Sister?" Xosi's expression changed.
Uninterested in Xosi, catching sight of Sam watching her some yards down the path, knowing she'd said cruel things to him, Louisa swallowed her pride and went to meet the man she loved.
XOSI HAD ALWAYS TAKEN pride in her beauty and wished to entice Monte Ryerson. Anxious for her brother, she had longed for distraction and had been furious to see Louisa Janks taking up the intriguing captive's attention. Spooked by Montgomery and the strange aura that hung over this canyon ruled by the blood-stained pyramid, Xosi needed a way to make herself feel better.
She looked over the big handsome man standing before her. "That girl is your sister? You have never said this before."
"Didn't know until today when I realized we had the same father."
"For truth?"
"Why would I lie? Got no reason to dodge your jealousy. You're not my woman."
Xosi raised her brows, took another drag of her cigarillo. Ignoring his insightful remark about jealousy, she lowered her eyelashes to ask, "Would you like me to be your woman?"
"You wanta take up with a prisoner?"
She liked the way he was staring at her breasts, naked beneath her camisa. "You are not my prisoner any more. These are not my people. I do not hold their religious beliefs."
"Then why did you bring us here?"
She hesitated for a moment, decided Monte Ryerson could not tell tales to anyone who mattered. "We came for gold." Which they might never get now. She could not give up hope for the riches, no matter that her concern for Tezco was great. "The crazy gringo promised us the contents of a rich tesoreria."
"Uh, huh, the lost treasure of Quetzalcoatl. There actually might be one, you know. I've read about it."
"You are a wise man," she said, flirting.
"And are you cruel, like an Aztec goddess? Xosi – doesn't that come from Xochiquetzal, the one who rules love and flowers?"
She became uncomfortable. "Perhaps my parents knew about such ancient names. But do not compare me to goddesses." She did not want to start having dreams and visions like Tezco. "Though I must say I prefer love and flowers to death."
"All Aztec gods are death spirits when it comes down to it."
She felt a chill. "I am not a god. I descend from Moctezuma but am a human being. A woman." She stepped nearer, gave him a sultry smile. "Would you like me to prove that?"
He ignored the blatant invitation. "You don't crave blood?"
She placed a hand on her hip. "I would kill someone to protect myself or my brother. But I could never tie a helpless victim to an altar and cut out his heart."
Which reminded her of the bowl her brother dropped, the way he had become so sick.
"You look like you're afraid."
Was she so transparent? She tried to deny her feelings, "I am not afraid, at least not for myself."
"Then for who?"
Again, she hesitated. But Tezco's problems were like a weight about her neck. She fingered her little mirror, noticed the warm smile lines around Monte Ryerson's eyes, the strength that went far beyond his powerful flexing muscles.
"I fear for my brother. He is being haunted by a demon."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SAM STILL WORE a haunted look as Louisa approached him. "I'm sorry about the mean things I said." Monte had given her a more centered, peaceful outlook, even in their awful circumstances.
Sam slid an insistent arm about her waist, told her grimly, "Let's get back to the house. I'm going to make love to you until you can't see straight."
She couldn't help feeling a little thrill at the very thought but she said, "That isn't the real problem."
"Then what is?"
"I guess I'm never sure if you really love me or not."
"Because of the six years I was gone?"
"And...well, there's this distance about you. This look you get on your face like you're somewhere else." The expression he wore right now. "I can't be sure you really want to be with me." Which brought up her own long-standing uncertainty about people's acceptance.
He loosened his hold and slowed. "We have to talk. There's something else I need to tell you."
She felt some trepidation. "About the Apache Wars?"
"About one particular incident."
Something even more terrible than the massacre in the caves? She swallowed. "I'm ready to listen." She wanted to bridge the gap, to be able to touch him deep inside.
Just then, Beaufort Montgomery came toward them, an entourage of a dozen men in his wake. Most wore unusual-looking, brightly-colored cloaks, necklaces and expressions of importance. The rest were loin-clothed guards carrying rifles.
Montgomery halted, his smiling focus on Louisa. He must be fifty or so, she thought, though his beard and shoulder-length hair were completely white. He wasn't an ugly man but his blazing blue eyes made him frightening. Was he here to order his next victims escorted to the pyramid?
"Here is the lovely brave one," he said. "I have come to invite you and your consort to a feast tonight...in your honor."
Only a feast, not an execution. But though she was relieved, Louisa didn't return the man's smile. "To hell with honor."
&nb
sp; Montgomery laughed. "How defiant – like a cornered jaguar. Ah, you are most certainly the one."
Sam scowled, keeping Louisa within the curve of his arm. "The one what? The bravest heart?" He looked Montgomery up and down. "You're full of bull and no damned Aztec. You're a white American. I don't know why these Indians or Mexicans don't kill you – you don't belong here."
At that, some of the men surrounding Montgomery bristled.
The leader himself kept smiling, his eyes brilliant but cold. "I am Quetzalcoatl."
"Then I'm Napoleon," Sam said. "What happened, Reb? Did you go crazy because your side lost?"
Montgomery laughed again, but Louisa thought the sound hollow. He waved to his entourage, who were still restless.
"How he raves! But this one is brave, too. We are blessed." Then he again addressed Louisa, "There is a warm spring some way up the mountainside above your house. You may have your servants take you there and bathe you if you wish."
"I'm not cleaning myself up for your stupid feast."
"As you choose. But you will be bathed one way or the other before the sun reaches its zenith tomorrow."
"That's when you're going to cut out my heart?"
"The gods will welcome you." He straightened his already erect posture, seeming to appear taller. And more threatening. "You will dwell in the eastern paradise beyond the clouds and we shall bury your remains in great state, your brave horse at your feet."
She shivered but stared him in the eye. "Don't count on that. You're the man who worships death spirits. They'd rather have you. Except I think you'll be burning in hell after you're buried, not floating around on clouds."
Finally, Montgomery's smile wavered. With one gesture and proud grace, he started to move off, his entourage in his wake. "I shall look forward to your presence tonight."
As soon as the group was out of earshot, she let herself relax, her knees nearly buckling.
Sam caught her, let her lean against him. "Are you all right?"
"Yes." Thinking of Monte's explanations, she said adamantly, "I serve life, not death."
They walked up the slope to the house, Sam looking at the ground. He took a deep breath as they paused at the door. "For myself, I've served both life and death. Paid a terrible price for the last. Even if they cut my heart out, part of it is already dead."
"I don't believe that, Sam." And she wanted his heart for herself. "What could possibly be so terrible? Tell me."
MONTE LISTENED PATIENTLYas Xosi told her wild tale -- the meeting with Beaufort Montgomery in El Cartorce, the journey to New Mexico, the taking of captives, the face she and Tezco had seen in her mirror.
"Do you believe a terrible spirit is possessing my brother?" she finally asked.
"If the story about that ancient Aztec wheel of life and death is true." In his gut, where the Comanche in him still dwelled, he did believe. His skin had prickled when Xosi had told him about the gold in the kiva and the haunting of her little mirror. "The dark gods want to return, to live in the flesh."
She shuddered and lifted the silver chain from her neck. "I saw you the night we found you in the cave, brujeria."
Monte had wondered how the bandits had located him.
"I am no witch but simple things like that do not frighten me," she went on. "Fierce demons do."
"I hope you've seen frightening visions."
"You wish terrible things for me?" she asked, her eyes wide.
Sometimes she seemed childlike. "Don't you understand what you've done? You and Tezco have brought people to their deaths, even men of your own band. How many so far? I know at least one was shot on the way. Then Roberto was cut up like a steer yesterday. That's no way for anyone to die."
She lowered her head guiltily. "It was not my fault."
"You have no conscience? You traded lives for gold."
"I did not kill anyone myself," she insisted, agitated. "I did not wish death on them."
Good, at last he was making her feel guilty. There was a heart behind the pretty, pouty exterior. "Because of you, I'm going to die on the altar myself. I wouldn't mind so much if I wasn't leaving three children orphaned."
"Orphans?"
"Two girls and a boy. Their ma's already dead. I'm all they have."
Xosi glanced at him quickly, then looked away, playing with the silver chain in her hand. "My brother and I were orphans. He is several years older than I. He was all I had."
"You're close. That's why you care so much about what's happening to him."
She sighed. "Even though he's changed -- I do not know if he will ever be the same again. It began with that Louisa. When he took her, he withdrew from me."
She hadn't told Monte anything about the kidnapping but he'd heard details from Sam on the journey. "My sister?"
Again, Xosi gave him a quick glance.
He'd play on the relationship she held dear, a relationship he'd like to live to enjoy. "I'm the only brother Louisa has." He pointed out, "And you're not going to blame her for your brother's problems. They started when you two took up with Montgomery. Greed brings about its own bad end."
"You do not know how it was with us," she said defensively. "We were so poor as children, we ate insects when we could not steal tortillas."
"Yeah, I've eaten some grub myself. I spent part of my childhood in Comanche camps...after the buffalo were long gone. And I got by on what little swill the Confederate Army dished out at the end of the war."
She held the little mirror before her, chain hanging down.
He placed a hand on her bare shoulder, an unbidden question suddenly coming to mind. "You know Montgomery...Quetzalcoatl pretty well, don't you? Have any influence on him?"
"Why?" Tone sarcastic, she asked, "Do you think I could change his mind about sacrifice?"
"You're beautiful enough to turn any man's head."
A smile flickered on her full lips and she arched her spine so that her nipples stood out against the thin material stretched over them. Despite the situation, Monte was aroused.
"So you think I am beautiful."
"So does Quetzalcoatl, I bet." And he remembered another old legend. "He's supposed to be a celibate god, never has sex. But he must have a hard time resisting you."
She laughed. "What do you suggest?"
"Sex is supposed to destroy him. If he really is a god." Which Monte sometimes believed was possible, sometimes didn't. Though he could never forget that Montgomery had once saved his life. Ironic that the same man was now trying to take it. "If nothing else, a beautiful woman's body might give the old man something to think about other than killing people." Some romantic involvement with an exotic female like Xosi might distract Montgomery enough to let the captives escape. "Maybe he'd even quit calling up the death spirits that are after your brother."
"H-m-m." Again she played with the silver chain. "The madman is powerful," she admitted. "Have you seen the plants that are growing? Grain? Flowers? The peasants say he brought them forth magically with drops of blood and holy words."
"So you're afraid to approach him."
"I am not afraid...of him. I fear the face in the mirror." She lowered her voice, her tone husky. "But why should I want to lie with an old man anyway?"
The way she was staring at him told Monte that he was going to have to do some influencing himself. He couldn't say that the work would be unpleasant.
"What would you prefer?"
"A strong man, dark...like you."
She ran her hands up his chest, stood on tiptoe to slip the chain and mirror about his neck. Then she arched and rubbed herself against him like a cat. He could feel the hard pebbles of her nipples through their layers of clothing.
"The mirror necklace is a token from me," she whispered. "You are wise. Perhaps you can see good things, rather than evil."
"A token? I'd rather have my life."
"You shall have that, too, if I have anything to say about it." She made a little mewling noise as he slid a hand down her pliant sp
ine, over the curve of her hips. "Let us go somewhere where we can be alone."
She led him away from the lean-to through a copse of mesquite trees, her hips swinging. They climbed some rocks, ended up in a grassy area sheltered by low shrubs.
She took off her camisa, let her skirt fall to her feet. Her naked voluptuousness caused Monte's blood to race. He was already achingly hard.
"So sex will destroy Quetzalcoatl, eh?" Boldly, she felt his arousal through his denim trousers, her nostrils flaring, breath coming faster. Quickly, she undid buttons. "Luckily, it will not destroy you."
"DESTROYING THOSE APACHES with a rockslide isn't the only atrocity I took part in," Sam told Louisa as she sat next to him on the bench. He stared at the packed earthen floor. "I killed Indians with my bare hands, laughed in their faces as they died."
Somehow, she couldn't see Sam laughing as people died, no matter what he said. "You must have been caught up in the heat of battle."
"Maybe. And maybe I was just plain tired." His eyes had that tormented, faraway look. "We were chasing renegades near the Mexican border. I'd lost several men to belly wounds -- the worst. The Apaches dipped the iron tips of their arrows in snake venom and took pains to aim them at a man's middle." He licked his lips nervously. "It was the day of the ambush that made me resign my commission."
Prepared for gruesome details, Louisa sat quietly, not touching Sam, simply letting him talk.
"That last day, we rode by a small isolated ranch," he went on. "At first I thought the people who lived there were all right. Smoke was rising from the chimney. Then I noticed a trail of something dark on the ground outside the barn -- blood. We went in and found the whole family -- parents, several children -- hanging from ropes strung up in the hayloft. What was left of them, that is. They'd been mutilated so you couldn't tell what they'd really looked like."
Louisa didn't want to imagine the scene, not any more than she wanted to remember what happened to Roberto. But she couldn't quite block it out of her mind and chewed at her lip.
Sam continued, "We buried the remains and set up camp that night a few miles away. We had some friendlies traveling with us, a couple of scouts and a woman I thought belonged to one of them. Seems she didn't, since I woke up to find her crawling into my bedroll with me."
