The Frenchman's Woman

by Lee Taylor

  Nianzu reminded her of Alex. He openly adored her and would do almost anything she asked. Everyday, he sparred with her in Wan’s kung fu practice center. Elena knew Nianzu had never fought a woman. Even though he seemed impressed with her warrior skills, he held back, humoring her. Elena had fought male prejudice in the dojo all her life. As she had with numerous other fighters, she took advantage of Nianzu’s reluctance to take her seriously. The third time she flipped him to the floor with a peal of delighted laughter, he leapt to his feet and began fighting in earnest.

  Bai was passing by the dojo and stopped, attracted by Elena’s shrieking warrior cry. He leaned against the doorway, watching with amused admiration when Elena took Nianzu down with a particularly vicious throw.

  When Nianzu dragged himself to his hands and knees signaling “enough,” Bai shook his head in mock dismay. “Letting a girl beat you, Nianzu? Hmm, I may have to reconsider your role as my lieutenant.”

  Bai chuckled when Nianzu stumbled to his feet, his face flushed with embarrassment.

  “Hell, Bai. You take her on. She fights dirty.”

  Elena flipped the errant curls that escaped from her tight braid and flounced her delectable ass. She strutted over in front of Nianzu, her hands on her hips. With a taunting smile, she purred, “That’s not dirty, Nianzu. It’s Apache.”

  Bai roared with laughter, then walked away, his chuckle reverberating behind him. Elena watched him go, disappointment tugging at her heart. Even when she threw his lieutenant to the floor, Bai dismissed her, as though it was some parlor trick, not the result of years of fierce, dedicated practice. Blinking back angry tears, she resolved once again to ignore him. She vowed not to care that he treated her as an amusing distraction – an annoying child to discipline or dismiss.

  Although he never said as much, Bai was impressed with her fighting skills. She had raw talent, but he saw Wyatt’s and Lei’s disciplined teaching in her style and determined fierceness. As much as he came to admire her fighting ability, Bai was frankly amazed at Elena’s horse whispering skills. Wan introduced her to his horse trainers, who all knew and admired Wyatt. In short order, they respected his daughter almost as much. Along with the trainers, Bai marveled at her ability to calm a spooky mare with a quiet word or a soft click. Her hands were like magic. With the gentle tug on a single rein, she brought a wary horse to a standstill, patiently waiting for further instructions.

  It wasn’t only skittish fillies she tamed. Bai happened to be near the ring when the word went out that Elena was about to take on a stallion appropriately named Diablo. Along with Wan and Nianzu, he joined an admiring audience who watched her tame the unruly horse that their most accomplished trainer couldn’t get near. And she did it in less than twenty minutes, without raising her voice or brandishing a whip.

  Even though there was no question that he had done the right thing in putting down Magic, Bai was stung by Elena’s assertion that he had murdered her horse. He knew she said it to spite him, anger him, but he also knew how much she had loved Magic. Watching her work with the trainers, he saw why she thought she could have saved Magic. Like any dedicated healer, she had wanted to try.

  ~~~

  One morning, as Elena left her chambers, Nianzu hollered out to her that her grandfather wanted to see her in the barn. Nianzu’s eyes were dancing and he urged her to hurry. When she got to the barn, Wan said he had a surprise for her. He insisted she close her eyes while he led her to the training ring. When she opened her eyes, she saw most of the ranch hands standing around the ring. They all looked up expectantly when she walked in. Their excitement was palpable.

  Elena followed her grandfather to the ring and gazed in amazement at one of the most beautiful horses she had ever seen. It was a rare grey Arabian mare, tall and elegant. Technically called a grey, her coat was startlingly white. Most surprising were her dark blue eyes. All her life Elena had been surrounded by beautiful exotic horses. Never had she seen a horse like this.

  She grabbed her grandfather’s hand, shaking with anticipation at the confirmation in his eyes.

  “She is mine, Grandfather?” Her voice was a breathless whisper, her eyes wide with wonder.

  Wan nodded, barely keeping his balance when she shrieked with excitement and almost bowled him over. The rest of the day, Elena and Nianzu and many of the trainers worked with the mare, marveling at her beauty and bearing. Elena had always wanted an Arabian like her father’s and Lei’s. Each time she needed a new horse, another horse from her father’s collection had claimed her love. In addition to the mare, Wan gave her a new saddle and tack. It was studded with lapis lazuli stones that, like the mare’s eyes, were a brilliant blue.

  All through dinner, Elena gushed over the mare. She raved about one feature after another, detailing the astonishing things she could already do.

  “My dear child,” Wan said with an indulgent smile, “I have never seen you this excited. I only wish Bai was here to see your response. Unfortunately, his meetings in Sacramento lasted longer than he expected.”

  Elena frowned. “Why, Grandfather? Why would it matter to him? He doesn’t particularly seem to care if I am happy or not.”

  Wan quirked a brow, chiding her. “Elena, Elena. You know better than that. For a man you say doesn’t care, he is acting rather peculiarly.”

  Elena was puzzled. “What do you mean, Grandfather? I don’t understand.”

  “Well, let me see if I can explain. Bai spent the last two weeks contacting every breeder in the West until he found this mare at a ranch in New Mexico. It might not have been as challenging except for his exacting requirements. He insisted on a purebred Arabian mare less than two years old. And, oh yes, she had to be white with blue eyes. He even arranged for a special car on the train from Albuquerque to San Francisco to get her here. I never heard of transporting a horse on a train, but nothing stops Bai when he makes up his mind. Frankly, I have no idea where he found a saddle inlaid with lapis lazuli stones. He must have had it designed to meet his specifications. ”

  Elena was quiet. She didn’t know how to respond. Her first thought was that Bai felt guilty – that he was admitting he had murdered her mare. But she knew that wasn’t true. She had come to accept that Magic needed to be put down. She saw Magic’s eyes. She was dying. Begrudgingly, Elena came to admit it was a sign of respect that Bai put Magic down in her presence rather than behind her back.

  But if he didn’t buy the Arabian because he felt guilty, then he must have wanted her to have a special horse to replace the horse she loved. She had never had a gift like this in her life, except from her father, who gave her everything she wanted, or her grandfather, who was a close second. But why? She didn’t understand.

  ~~~

  That night Elena sat on her balcony after her bath loving the whisper of warm dry air on her still damp skin. Hearing the clatter of hoof beats, she saw Bai ride up to the barn. Wan had told her he might be coming back for the evening, but because he had morning meetings, it was more likely that he would stay in town. She watched him dismount, a tall, dark shadowy figure, and head to the barn. Though she wore only her nightclothes, on impulse, Elena decided to follow him.

  She saw him in the Arabian’s stall. He was circling the mare, marveling at her beauty. He spoke in French, but the meaning of the words was clear. He was as impressed as all of them had been. This was a stunning horse.

  Elena stood at the entrance to the barn, watching him. After a quiet moment, she screwed up her courage and approached him.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  Bai turned, surprised to see her, but nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, she is a remarkable horse. I’m sure you know this, Elena. She is called a grey even though she appears to be pure white. Her skin is dark under her coat.”

  “No, I didn’t know that. The only Arabians we had at the ranch were black like my father’s stallion or a roan like Lei’s”

  “Well, you will have to tell them that you have a pure white ho
rse. She is unusual, particularly with the blue eyes. I saw a mare like this in Persia when I was a boy. I never forgot her. She was considered a royal horse, fit for a princess.”

  He continued to walk around the horse, stroking her flanks, holding her head between his hands, murmuring at the startling blue of her eyes.

  “Thank you, Bai. She is the most beautiful mare I’ve ever seen.”

  “I agree. She is the most beautiful mare I have ever seen, Elena. But don’t thank me, thank your grandfather.”

  “Grandfather told me you bought her for me.”

  “No, not really. I helped with the arrangements. It was Wan’s idea.”

  “That’s not what Grandfather said. He told me that you contacted every breeder in the West looking for a horse with her particular characteristics. He said you had her brought from New Mexico by train.”

  He lifted a brow and turned back to the mare. “Hmm. Well, however she got here, this is a beautiful horse.”

  “Bai?”

  “Yes, Elena.”

  “You know I don’t speak French like Sarah and Agatha.”

  “Yes?”

  “What does cherie mean in English?”

  “Hmm, it has a number of meanings, depending on the circumstances. It usually means ‘dear’ or ‘precious.’ Why?”

  Elena clapped her hands in excitement. “Oh, I like that. That settles it. That is what I am going to call her.”

  Bai’s face tightened. He reached in his pocket for his cigarette case and took out a cigarette. She watched him light it and take a deep drag.

  He frowned at her from half lidded eyes. A strange look crossed his face, like he was amused. His eyes gleamed like the predatory wolf on his cigarette case. She knew that look. It was the way he had looked at her in the garden. It frightened her. And excited her.

  His eyes drifted over her body, stopping at the places where her thin robe stuck to her damp skin. He smiled knowingly at the slight flush on her neck and chest. He edged up next to her, as quietly and dangerous as a panther. He studied her as if she was prey, vulnerable, available – his for the taking. His lips twisted in a sardonic smile. In a dry taunting voice, he said, “I see you are still running around practically naked, alone, Elena? At night?”

  She tried to speak calmly, to explain, but she had a hard time quieting her breath. Her words came out in a soft, strangled whisper. “I didn’t …I…I was afraid… I thought you would be gone in the morning…before I could thank you.”

  He moved closer, looming over her. She breathed in his smell. The exotic aroma of his Turkish cigarettes and a strong musky male smell made her legs shake, her groin clench. He was like a magnet drawing her in, a powerful force field she couldn’t resist. She struggled against the urge to touch him. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her. Hold her tight against him. Run his hands over her body, the way he did in the garden.

  He stepped closer to her, not taking his gaze off of her. Reaching out, he caught the collar of her robe between his fingers. His knuckles dragged along the neckline, tracing her bare skin down to the space between her breasts and then back up. He stopped to rest on that sensitive place on the inside of her throat. When her body quivered in response, he took her chin in his hand. He brought her face up close to his and looked in her eyes. She struggled to speak, to breathe, but he put his finger against her mouth to silence her. Running his finger around her full lips, he pinched the corner of her mouth between his finger and thumb. She trembled as a wave of sensation racked her body.

  He stepped back, shaking his head. His voice was soft, firm. “Go to your chambers, Elena. It is past your bedtime.”

  She gasped first in surprise, then confusion. She squeezed her eyes against the sting of tears.

  He took another drag off his cigarette, turned and walked toward the villa. He looked back over his shoulder at her clinging to the doorway: her face pale, her body shaking.

  He said in an offhand voice, “Zhenqui means “precious” in Chinese. You might consider that name for your mare. Cherie is my name for you.”

  ~~~

  The next morning Elena was in the barn early, excited to ride Zhenqui. Nianzu was in the next stall saddling up his stallion grumbling.

  “Damn, Elena, the sun is barely up.”

  “But it is a beautiful morning, Nianzu. I can’t wait to ride her again. You have to come with me.”

  “I’ll take it from here, Nianzu.”

  Elena and Nianzu turned in surprise to see Bai walk in leading Noire, saddled and ready to ride.

  “I thought you were leaving early, Bai,” Nianzu said, glancing uncertainly at Bai.

  “I was, but I want to see how Elena’s mare runs before I leave.”

  He went out and tied Noire to the hitching post. When he came back in, he picked up Elena’s saddle, hoisting it up on the Arabian’s back.

  He whistled in appreciation. “This is some saddle.”

  Elena’s eyes flashed. Her voice was crisp, hard with the anger that had settled in following a night of tears.

  “Where did you get it?” she asked.

  Bai smiled. “Ask your grandfather.”

  “I did. He didn’t know. He said to ask you since you were the one who bought it.”

  Bai nodded, ignoring her question.

  He finished saddling her mare in silence. When Elena stepped up to mount her, Bai reached over to lift her up.

  “I can get up by myself,” she said twisting away.

  “I know you can,” he said. Ignoring her attempt to pull away, he lifted her up on the mare then reached down to adjust her stirrups.

  Elena tossed her head and started out of the barn, clicking the mare to a trot as soon as she cleared the courtyard.

  In her excitement and thrill with the powerful animal beneath her, Elena almost forgot her anger. She threw back her head and looked over her shoulder at Bai coming behind her.

  “Bet you can’t catch me!” She hollered back at him the way she had tormented Alex all their lives, goading her horse to a faster pace.

  “Bet I can!” Bai yelled back. His eyes were dancing. A cocky grin spread across his face as he caught up to her. They raced neck in neck across the open range toward the canyons.

  After they had ridden hard for half an hour across the mesa, they entered the rocky trail into the canyon. Responding to the winding trail, they slowed their horses to a trot.

  “How does she ride?” Bai asked, breaking their comfortatble silence.

  “Like no horse I’ve ever ridden.” Elena’s face and voice were alive with joy.

  Bai tried to remember when he had seen a more beautiful sight. Her hair had sprung loose, flying behind her in a fiery cloud of wild curls. Her dark blue eyes were shining with excitement. The connection and contrast in colors between the beautiful woman and the magnificent horse took his breath away.

  A rustling sound broke his reverie. Tugging on Noire’s reins, he whispered, “Elena, stop.”

  She looked back and paled when she saw a band of men coming from the rocks behind them. They wore dirty, torn clothes. Their dark hair and eyes gleamed in the sunlight. The gun belts riding low on their hips and bandoliers across their chests confirmed they were banditos, the Mexican bandit gangs that roamed all of California and much of the Southwest.

  Bai pulled up close to her, moving between her and the banditos. Looking to the robust fellow at the front of the group, he tipped his hat and said in a laconic voice, “Buen dia, mi amigo, el Senor Panches.”

  “Ah, hola, el Senor Frances.” The leader of the banditos turned to his men. In a burst of rapid Spanish he confirmed it was the man they called the Frenchman.

  Bai sat quietly on his horse. He made no move to reach for either of the guns he wore or to the knives he carried.

  The banditos talked among themselves. Their fierce looks eased but remained guarded. They looked pointedly at the snow white horse and with even more interest at the red-haired, blue-eyed woman sitting astride it.

>   “Es hermoso caballo,” Panches said, pointing to the Arabian.

  “Si.” Bai responded, acknowledging that the horse was beautiful.

  “Es hermosa mujer, tambien.”

  “Si.” Bai said, smiling at Elena.

  “Su mujer?” Panches asked, nodding at Elena.

  “Si.” Bai said with a grin.

  Panches’s eyes twinkled. He said with a salacious grin, “Usted es

  un hombre afortunado, Senor Frances.”

  “Si, lo soy.” Bai agreed with a smile.

  The two men looked at each other for a long moment. Gazing at him from his hooded eyes, the Mexican said, “Buen dia, Senor Frances. Vaya con Dios, mi amigo.”

  “Y usted tambien, Senor Panches.” Bai said with a gracious bow, then motioned to Elena to go forward.

  ~~~

  They rode without speaking for several minutes. Elena moved closer to him. “Who were those men, Bai?”

  “One of the many Mexican bandit gangs that live and work in these canyons. And one of the reasons I won’t allow you to ride by yourself outside of the villa.”

  She ignored his implied rebuke and said instead, “They know you. He called you the Frenchman.”

  Bai smiled and nodded, picking his way down the steep trail.

  “Why didn’t they try to rob us or hurt us?”

  “I just told you. They know who I am.”

  She didn’t answer for a moment, then spoke. “Bai, I may not speak French like the cultured women you associate with, but I have been speaking Spanish all my life.”