Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  “His boner, girl. His hard-on. His erection. When he tried to do with it what God intended, it went limp on him.”

  “He told you this?” Joanna cried, horrified and outraged and embarrassed right down to her toes.

  “Well, not that last part, not in so many words. But she was one of my girls, after all, so I didn’t have too much trouble finding out the details. And before you get worried, she likes Pace. She won’t breathe a word.”

  “She likes him?” Joanna ground out between clenched teeth.

  “Yeah, all the girls do. He treats them like ladies instead of like whores. And just so you’ll know, hon, that was the first time he’s ever tried to do more than buy one of my girls a drink. Pace doesn’t generally go in for whores.”

  “Not according to what you just said!”

  “Aw, hell, hon, he was just tryin’ out the equipment, and it didn’t even work. The question now is, since it looks like he’s improving, do you want him back?”

  She should say no. Joanna knew she should. He had constantly pushed her away, and when that hadn’t worked, he had left her. But it all related to his impotence. If he could get over that, would he stay?

  “Kali, I’d want him back if the damn thing was cut off completely. But—”

  “No buts, girl. I can tell you how to get him back, and I can tell you what I think will work to get him over his little problem. Frankly, my guess is he is well. He’s just a one-woman man, trying it out on the wrong woman. But keeping him—that’ll be up to you. Are you willing to listen to my ideas?”

  Joanna took a deep breath for strength, then another for courage. “After what you’ve told me, I think I’d rather murder him, but—”

  “I ain’t sayin’ he doesn’t deserve it.”

  “Start talking.”

  Kali grinned. “Okay. Do you have a scarf? A long one. Silk would be best.”

  Joanna frowned. “A scarf? Yes, I have a long silk scarf.”

  “Oh, good!” Kali rubbed her hands together. “Here’s what you need to do…”

  By the time Kali took her leave of the Triple C that afternoon, Joanna’s head was reeling. She was hurt, she was furious. She was giddy and terrified. She was mortified. But overriding all of that, she was determined.

  With a final wave good-bye to Kali, she closed the door and turned to face the questioning looks on Daniella and Serena. “Gran, Rena, I need your help.”

  “With what? What did she say?”

  “She’s seen Pace, hasn’t she?”

  “Is that why she came?”

  “What did she say?”

  Joanna shook her head. “She’s seen Pace and he’s…fine. Now I need your help.”

  “What kind of help? What are you going to do?”

  Looking them each in the eye, Joanna unbuttoned the cuffs of her shirtwaist and rolled up her sleeves. “Chance and I are moving to Pace’s ranch. I’m going to get my husband back.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Matt roared. “You can’t take a baby to that place. You can’t live there! The place is a wreck!”

  “Then tell me what I need to make it livable.”

  “A few sticks of dynamite ought to do it,” he said heatedly.

  “Can it be any worse that Tres Colinas was when Jessie and Blake moved there?” Daniella asked.

  “Whose side are you on?” Matt demanded. “You talk like you want her to go!”

  “It’s not my decision to make,” Daniella said calmly. “Nor is it yours, I might add.”

  At Gran’s remark, Joanna’s father turned red in the face.

  Joanna hadn’t expected her father to be pleased with her announcement that she was moving to Los Alamos. That he was outraged came as no surprise. But she didn’t want the family arguing with each other because of her. She was afraid if her father persisted, she might weaken, and she did not want to weaken. Not if remaining firm meant a chance to get Pace back.

  “I’m going, Daddy. If you won’t help me, I’ll understand. All I ask is that you don’t stand in my way.”

  “Why?” Matt asked, bewildered. “Why do you want to go there? The son of a bitch left you. Again. Hell, for that matter, he’s not even there. Why, Jo?”

  Joanna touched his arm. “I know he’s not there, Daddy. But the pieces of this pie we call the Triple C are sliced thinner and thinner with every new Colton who’s born. Before long there won’t be a single piece big enough to chase a cat on. Pace’s ranch is my son’s heritage.”

  Less than a week after Kali Randolph’s visit to the Triple C, four wagons, a buggy, three outriders, two crates of chickens, and a dozen head of cattle splashed across a small creek just north of the Mexican border and drew to a halt. The buggy was Joanna’s concession to her father. He had insisted that she would be too uncomfortable riding all that way on a hard wagon seat. Never mind that she’d been riding on a hard wagon seat all her life. Never mind that Serena and Gran thought nothing of doing so. He hadn’t insisted that they have a padded leather seat with comfortable springs. But Joanna had given in, because he had given in on her decision to move here.

  “Los Alamos,” she breathed, looking at her new home for the first time. “Daddy, you lied.”

  “You haven’t seen the inside yet.”

  “I don’t care,” she said in awe. A two-story log and stone house sat surrounded by what looked to be about four acres of tall cottonwood trees, from which Los Alamos took its name, glowing in the slanting rays of the setting sun. Back beyond the grove, barely visible through the trees, stood a huge barn, a couple of smaller buildings, and several corrals.

  The land here was different than at the Triple C. Los Alamos sat at a higher elevation, allowing a cross section of growth from both the lower and higher elevations. Surrounding the stand of cottonwoods were paloverde, pyracantha, piñon, and other evergreens. So very, very different from the desert surrounding the Triple C. “It’s so…green.”

  “Oh, Joanna.” Next to her on the buggy seat, Serena smiled brilliantly. “You’re going to love it here. I just know it. Look at that veranda!”

  Joanna’s eyes swept the front of the house again, to the veranda that boasted a wide swing dangling by one end from the roof of the covered porch.

  As they drew up before the house, Joanna saw that there were shingles missing from the roof, and the floor of the porch was falling in. She couldn’t bring herself to care. After listening to her father, she had expected nothing more than a pile of rubble. The house was far from that. It looked strong and sturdy, a place meant to see a large family through the years.

  This was going to be her home. Chance would grow and thrive beneath these cottonwoods. God willing, his father would be here to guide his steps to manhood.

  Joanna scooped her son from the blanket-lined box behind the buggy seat. “Look, Chance. Our new home.”

  Serena climbed down from the buggy and took Chance so Joanna could get down.

  “Matt,” Serena called. “Can you carry Chance’s box for Jo?”

  “I can get it, Rena,” Joanna said.

  “Let him, please? This is hard on him.”

  Joanna relented. “I’m married and have a son of my own, but he still doesn’t want me to grow up, does he?” Her smile of understanding softened her words.

  “He’s learning,” Serena told her. “He just needs a little more time.”

  Matt came and lifted the box from the buggy. “Where do you want it?”

  Joanna and Serena shared a look, then Joanna smiled at her father. “I don’t know, Daddy. Where would be the best place where I can keep an eye on him, but he won’t be in everyone’s way, and he won’t get covered in dust while we clean?”

  Matt beamed at her. “I know just the place.”

  Thank you, Serena mouthed to Joanna as Matt carried the box toward the house.

  The minute Joanna stepped into the house, she knew someone had been there, and not too many weeks past. The front room, the kitchen, and a small downstairs bedroom and be
en swept recently. Recently as compared to the other rooms, at least. The layer of dirt in the three rooms was thin and easily cleaned away. The other rooms were coated with years of dirt and neglect.

  With the baby sleeping safely in his box in the kitchen, Joanna stood in the downstairs bedroom that had been cleaned in the recent past. Who had been here? Had it been Pace?

  She stood in the middle of the room as the gloom of dusk settled around her and closed her eyes, reaching out in other ways than looking. She felt the room with her mind, with her heart, and somehow knew that yes, Pace had been there. She could sense his lingering presence in the walls, in the air. She could feel an overwhelming sense of loss, of anguish. Not her loss, not her anguish, but his.

  “Pace,” she whispered. “I’m here, Pace. Come to me. Come to me.”

  “Did you say something?”

  The sound of her father’s voice from the doorway startled her and she jerked. “Oh! Uh, no, I was just talking to myself. This room will be the easiest to clean, so we can sleep in here. There’s room for several bedrolls.”

  Matt opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked at her for a long moment before going on. “You and Chance can have this room. The rest of us will camp outside.”

  Serena joined him in the doorway. “There, now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” she teased him.

  “Yes,” he told her with a wry grin. “It was damned hard.”

  “But you did it, and I’m proud of you.”

  “Did what?” Joanna demanded, feeling as if she’d walked in on the third act of a play and had no idea what had happened in acts one and two.

  “He loosened the tether another notch,” Serena answered. “He’s letting you sleep alone in your new home, even though he feels this terrible need to sleep next to you so you won’t be afraid of the dark.”

  One week later Joanna stood on the veranda with Chance in one arm and waved good-bye to her family. Everything was in order. Every room in the house had been thoroughly scrubbed and aired, along with the few remaining pieces of furniture that were still serviceable. Joanna had brought her bedroom furniture, a new rocking chair and sofa, and a small table and chairs for the dining room.

  Outside, the roof, veranda, and porch swing were repaired. The corrals, barn, bunkhouse, smokehouse, other outbuildings, even the well, were cleaned out and repaired.

  There was no longer an excuse for the family to linger. As much as she loved them and would miss them, it was almost a relief to see them go. Now she wouldn’t have to measure each word, wouldn’t have to tiptoe around her father’s feelings in fear of hurting him.

  She was even more relieved that Enrique Gonzales and his wife, Rosa, had agreed to stay on at Los Alamos and work for her, Enrique as foreman, Rosa as housekeeper. Joanna knew that most men would not willing work for a woman. She had Gran and Rena to thank for proving to the hands at the Triple C over the years that Colton women were not average women, that they did indeed know how to run a ranch, otherwise Enrique might not have agreed to stay.

  Had he not, Joanna would have had to hire someone from Naco or the surrounding area, and the fat would have been in the fire then, for sure. Her father would have had a conniption fit if she’d hired strangers to work for her. Pace, too, when he found out. She knew Pace would approve of Enrique. If Pace even decided to care that Joanna had come and taken over the ranch.

  One of the outbuildings behind the big house was a small two-room house that Rosa was delighted with, so the couple was living there.

  “All right, little man,” she said to Chance. “We’re here. It’s time for the next step. Time to get your daddy’s attention.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Wearing a pistol on his right hip and drawing and firing with his right hand still felt awkward to Don Rodrigo, but he was getting better. He had to get better. He was going to find that puta and her half-breed bastard, and he was going to kill them.

  Because of the Colton girl, Don Rodrigo had lost everything. Not just the use of his left arm and leg, but his home, his power, and most of his wealth as well. At least the wealth the government knew about. No longer a respected don, he was now a wanted man with a price on his head, because of her. She was going to die a slow, painful death. Just as soon as he found her.

  She was not at the ranch of her family, as she should have been. He had men searching for her while he remained in Janos and learned to walk with a cursed cane and shoot with the wrong hand. He could ride, but not easily, and not well. Not with only one leg that worked, curse the bitch! But he would learn. And she would pay.

  He drew and fired again, this time nicking a chunk of skin from the barrel of the cactus before him. Not good enough. He holstered the gun and flexed his hand, ready to try again, when a rider came over the hill.

  “I have found her! I have found her!” Don Rodrigo’s cousin Paco skidded his horse to a stop next to Rodrigo, burying him in thick dust.

  With the news Paco brought, the dust meant nothing. “Where?” Don Rodrigo demanded.

  “She is at a small ranch near the border town of Naco.”

  “The half-breed? He is with her?”

  “No. Only a Mexican couple are there with her. What will you do?”

  Don Rodrigo thought a moment. “You will go back and watch. The half-breed will come. She will draw him like a ripe flower draws the bee. Then I will have them both.”

  “Very well,” Paco said. “I will return to Naco and I will watch.”

  “I join you soon, cousin. You have done well.”

  Smoke hung heavy in the air above the tables in Tombstone’s Lucky Lady saloon. It was the piano player’s night off and the irritating hiss from the gas lamps hanging from the ceiling distracted a few of the card players, but not the half-breed with his back to the wall at the corner table.

  Not that Pace was paying much attention to the game. His fellow players—a store clerk, the town water hauler, and three ranch hands—held little challenge. He figured he’d have to quit the game after this hand or he’d wipe them all out. For him, the game was just a way to pass the time, but he didn’t like winning from men who had mouths to feed at home, like the clerk and the water hauler, and they were losing the most.

  The whiskey and the cards were better down at Kali’s Last Chance, but Pace was steering clear of Kali these days. He’d humiliated himself at the Last Chance. He didn’t need anymore damned lectures from his well-meaning but interfering friend.

  He glanced at the cards in his hand and shrugged. “I’ll take one.”

  “One,” the cowhand named Clark muttered. “What do ya say, fellas? At this rate we’ll never get him down to bettin’ that ranch of his down along the border.”

  Pace carefully kept his eyes on his cards and his expression one of boredom, but his senses sharpened. He wasn’t in the habit of mentioning Los Alamos to anyone. It wasn’t a secret—hell, he’d won the ranch down at the Last Chance in front of dozens of witnesses. But that had been several years ago. Clark didn’t look old enough to have been out of short pants at the time.

  “Forget it, Clark,” Brinker, his sidekick, grumbled. “Even if he did bet Los Alamos, I doubt that wife of his would be part of the deal, eh, Colton?”

  Pace slowly looked up and pierced Brinker with a sharp gaze. “Wife?”

  Clark hooted and slapped the table. “Whoo-whee, Brinker, you shore ‘nuff stepped in it this time! You oughta know better than to tease a man about a looker like Mrs. Colton. Won’t no husband be sharin’ the likes of her, nosiree Bob.”

  Sweat beaded along Brinker’s forehead and upper lip as he ignored his buddy’s laughter and held Pace’s stare like a rabbit holds a snake’s. “I didn’t mean nuthin’, Colton, swear to God I didn’t. I was just joshin’ ya.”

  Pace stared at him another minute, then forced his gaze back to his cards. “You’ve seen my wife?”

  Brinker cleared his throat three times before he could talk. “Well, uh, that is, well, yeah, I seen her. Had me so
me time off last week and moseyed on down to see my sister down at Naco. We met your missus at the general store. She and my sister struck up a conversation about babies an’ all, and she mentioned she was settlin’ in over at Los Alamos. That’s all. Never saw her again, swear I didn’t.”

  What the hell? Pace thought. Joanna at Los Alamos? What was she up to now?

  Maybe, he thought as he cleaned Brinker out of two month’s pay, maybe he’d just ride on down tomorrow and find out.

  Pace left Tombstone at dawn the next morning and rode south. He’d been so distracted by questions of what the hell Joanna was doing at Los Alamos that he left without breakfast, and without anything to eat along the trail. He stopped in Bisbee and ate a lunch he didn’t remember two minutes later.

  He was untying the buckskin from the hitching rail in front of the café when a storekeeper he knew slightly approached the café from across the street.

  “Colton, howdy.”

  “MacIntyre,” Pace acknowledged.

  “You headed home to Los Alamos?”

  Hearing his ranch referred to as home startled Pace. He’d never thought of Los Alamos as home. Hell, he’d never spent more than three nights there since he won the place. He’d tried to stay there a couple of months ago, had even cleaned out a few rooms, but he’d left quick enough. While there he kept imagining what it would be like to have Joanna there with him. The pictures in his head had driven him away. “Could be,” was all he said to MacIntyre.

  “You tell that pretty little wife of yours that the netting she wanted should be coming in by the end of the month. That’s a real nice lady you married, if you don’t mind my saying. Never saw a woman dote so over a baby the way she does that young Chance of yours. Handsome boy, yes sir, a handsome boy.”

  It was a trick. That’s all Pace could figure as he rode farther and farther south. This had to be some sort of trick on Joanna’s part to get him back. He couldn’t think of any other reason she would go to Los Alamos, and then make herself so visible throughout the entire area that he couldn’t help but hear about her.