This Fierce Splendor

by Iris Johansen

  Shamus was silent for a moment. “It’s not the same situation. The boy was helpless, and he wasn’t a Delaney. We can take care of ourselves.” He smiled grimly. “I’d like to see anyone come here and try to take you.”

  Dominic shook his head. “Well, I wouldn’t like it, and it’s not going to happen.” He stood up. “I think I’ll go to bed. Good night, Da.”

  “I’m not giving up, you know.”

  “I know,” Dominic said softly. Da never gave up. It was one of the characteristics he admired most about his father. “And neither am I.”

  Shamus smiled suddenly. “But I have all the aces, Dominic. You want to come homeland we want you here. I’ll find a way to keep you at Killara, where you belong.” His eyes were narrowed thoughtfully. “I already have a few ideas on how I’m going to do it.”

  Dominic shook his head in amusement as he strolled toward the door. “I’m leaving in three days and going back to Hell’s Bluff. That doesn’t give you much time.”

  “Time enough.” Shamus’s voice took on silkiness as he continued. “By the way, Patrick didn’t tell you the complete price of that pardon I had to buy for you. I didn’t choose to tell him or the rest of the family just how greedy those politicians in the governor’s office turned out to be.”

  Dominic stopped as if he’d been struck by a bullet. He turned around and gazed silently at Shamus. Waiting.

  “I had to take a mortgage out on Killara,” Shamus said softly, not looking at Dominic. “A very large mortage.”

  “God,” Dominic whispered.

  Shamus’s gaze rose to meet his son’s. “We could lose Killara. It needs every one of us to keep it alive, to keep it growing.” He smiled with catlike satisfaction as he saw how upset Dominic was. “You might keep that thought in mind during the next three days, son.” He stood up. “I believe I’ll go to bed too. An old man like me needs his rest. Are you planning on going back to Shamrock tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” Dominic said absently, his thoughts on the news with which his father had just bludgeoned him. A mortgage. Even the thought of some pompous banker’s hands on Killara made him sick to his stomach.

  “Why don’t you stay here and show Miss MacGregor around Killara instead? They don’t need your help over there.” Shamus turned out the lamp and the room was suddenly plunged into darkness. “You know, I believe I like her. At first I thought she was a little too missish for a man like you, but I’ve changed my mind. She has more to her than you’d think from a first look.”

  Dominic couldn’t see his father’s face in the dark but his tone was entirely too casual. He agreed warily. “Yes, she does.”

  His father passed him, surefooted and certain as a cat, and opened the door to the hall. “A woman is a strange creature. Sometimes she thinks she wants one thing and she really wants another. Did you know that our firstborn, Rory, was three months on the way when Malvina and I went before the priest?”

  The inference was clear. There would be no interference, only approval, if he chose to bed Elspeth in his father’s house. The knowledge sent heat tingling through him. First the shock of the mortgage on Killara and then this tacit permission to soothe the lust that had been tormenting him since he had first set eyes on Elspeth. Da was charging ahead with his usual ruthlessness, striking at him where he was weakest. “No, I don’t believe you ever mentioned that fact.”

  Shamus’s chuckle drifted back to him as he began to climb the stairs. “I thought it time I did. Good night, Dominic.”

  Dominic stood in the dark hall, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Da had no intention that he should sleep well this night. He wanted him to lie awake worrying about Killara and then think about Elspeth lying in the room next door, and he had accomplished his goals with his usual satanic skill. Dominic deliberately forced his hands to open and relax. He drew a deep breath and headed across the hall, then up the stairs.

  He had reached the top step when Rising Star’s door opened and a figure in white drifted out into the hall carrying a candle in a copper holder. At first he thought it was Rising Star, and then the woman closed the door and turned, the flickering light illuminating the pale brown of her hair. Elspeth.

  She saw him at almost the same moment, and froze, her eyes wide and startled in the pool of golden light formed by the candle. “Hello.” Her voice was breathless, the words hesitant. “I hope your brothers are well. Did you have a pleasant day?”

  “Yes.” His gaze wandered over her, lingering. It was the first time he had seen her in anything but black, and the sight of her in the white gauze gown came as a shock. He hadn’t realized what a difference the absence of that black mourning gown would make. She was suddenly a vibrant woman, a part of life and the living. “You look different.”

  She smiled. “That’s what I told Silver. It’s a very pretty gown, isn’t it? I decided it was time to put away mourning and Rising Star permitted me to borrow it.”

  “Very pretty.” He tore his gaze away from the womanly curves defined by the gown and looked back at her face. “You’ve spoken to Rising Star?”

  “Yes. Brianne, Silver, and I spent the evening with her. I enjoyed it enormously.” A tiny frown marred her brow. “I like both Rising Star and Silver so much. I can’t understand why your mother and father won’t accept Silver.”

  “Their experiences with the Apaches haven’t been happy ones,” Dominic said. “I’m not saying they’re right not to accept Silver, but I can understand how hard they would find it to do. From the day we came to Killara we had to fight to keep our land and cattle.” His face became shadowed. “Burnings, deaths, raids. My brother Rory and his wife died in one of those raids. There were times when we didn’t know if any of us would see the next day. My brothers and I grew up believing the Apaches were the enemy. It was only after we got back from San Felipe and Da decided the fighting had to stop or we’d lose everything we’d gained that we paid a visit to Rising Star’s village to try to make peace.”

  “But Joshua married Rising Star,” Elspeth protested. “He surely couldn’t have felt any enmity toward her people.”

  Something flickered in Dominic’s face. “You’ve met Rising Star. She’s very beautiful and Josh went a little crazy when he saw her.”

  “Are you saying he doesn’t love her?”

  “No, he does love her, there are just some problems—” He stopped. “Look, Josh’s marriage is none of my concern.”

  “Why did your father let Joshua marry Rising Star if the family felt that way?”

  “She was the chief’s daughter and he knew it would clinch the peace and protect Killara.”

  Elspeth stared at him. “To protect Killara. What about Rising Star? What about the way she felt at being used as a pawn?”

  He frowned. “She wanted Josh. Nobody forced her into the marriage. Josh and Boyd were damn close, and it was too bad that Boyd was killed by Sun Eagle so soon after Rising Star and Josh married. It made things a bit uneasy for everyone here.”

  “It made things ‘uneasy’ for Silver too,” Elspeth said sharply. “What about her? None of this was her fault and yet all of you have made her the victim. Why didn’t you fight for her, Dominic?”

  “I wasn’t here, dammit,” he said testily. “And I was busy fighting a few battles of my own. Hell, I felt the same way they did until I found out a white man could be just as big a bastard as any Indian on the face of the earth. It was a very enlightening discovery.”

  “Well, someone should have helped her.”

  “Rising Star did what she could.”

  “It wasn’t enough. You should have made your family see that they had a duty toward her.”

  “If they won’t even concede that she’s Boyd’s child, how do you expect them to admit they have any obligation?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, but it’s not fair.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “None of it is fair.”

  His annoyance disappeared as he felt an aching tenderness stir. “No, it’s not fair, but
what my mother and father suffered wasn’t fair either. In their eyes they’re being generous just tolerating Silver’s presence.” His lips twisted ruefully. “I guess you’ve noticed she doesn’t make it easy for them.”

  Elspeth shook her head. “She’s in so much pain. Don’t you see it? Someone has to help her.” She turned wearily away. “Oh, what’s the use of talking about it? Why should I expect anyone to help Silver?”

  His gaze searched her face, noting its paleness and the dark circles beneath her eyes. “You’d better get to bed. You shouldn’t have stayed up this late. You’re doing too much.”

  Elspeth’s shoulders moved in an impatient half shrug. “I refuse to pamper myself any longer, I’m getting stronger all the time.”

  He hesitated. “Did Rising Star speak to you about Kantalan?”

  “Yes.” Anger flared in Elspeth’s eyes. “It was very wrong of you to try to persuade her not to help me, but I have no intention of discussing your interference tonight. The only thing I want to do right now is go to bed, cover my head with the sheet, and forget about you and everyone in the territory of Arizona. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

  He watched her as she marched militantly down the hall, holding the candle before her as if it were a torch. He felt as if he’d been cracked over the knuckles with a ruler like a naughty schoolboy. First Da then Elspeth had attacked him, and he was sure in both cases it was only the opening barrage with the heavy artillery to follow. Hell, maybe he should cut short his stay and leave tomorrow. The tension within him was increasing with every moment that passed and an explosion could not be far distant. He would be wise to heed the warning signs before it was too late.

  Elspeth, bathed in the soft candlelight that turned the white gauze gown to mellow cream and revealed the threads of gold in her pale brown hair, was turning the knob of Brianne’s door. Life. She was beginning to come alive. She was changing, blossoming, not only in body but in spirit. He wanted to see that blossoming, dammit.

  And Dominic realized he would not leave Killara in the morning.

  Malvina was not asleep when Shamus opened the door, though the hour was after midnight. It didn’t surprise him to see her sitting up in bed, Miss Beetle’s book open on her lap. He had known she would not sleep tonight until he came to her.

  She looked up and immediately closed the book and placed it on the bedside table. “You spoke to him?”

  He nodded. “It’s going to be more difficult than I thought. He’s being protective as hell of the family.”

  A tiny smile flitted across her lips. “He’s his father’s son.”

  Fierce pride glinted in his eyes. “He is that.” He began to empty his pockets on the squat, bowlegged table next to the door. “I sent a message down to the bunkhouse in the village for Patrick to get his backside up here tomorrow morning. Dominic’s always had a soft spot for Patrick and it may help to have their quarrel settled.” He frowned. “But we’ll probably have to use the Scottish woman. She may not be easy to manipulate. She stood up to me when Silver and me were having at it tonight.”

  “Good. Dominic needs a strong woman.” She smiled. “He’d be bored with anybody who didn’t strike sparks off him. I’m not worried. You’ll find a way, you always do.”

  He grinned as he stripped off his shirt. “No matter how bad things are, you’re always sure I can make everything right.” His smile faded. “But I haven’t always been able to do that for you, Malvina.” He finished undressing and walked toward the bed. “I’ve tried my damnedest, but I haven’t given you the life you wanted.”

  “Who says you haven’t given me everything I wanted?” Malvina’s hazel eyes flashed in the lamplight. “How many other women have what I have? Five strong sons and three grandchildren, a fine house and a husband who still pleasures me after all these years. A woman would be foolish to expect more than that from life.”

  He slipped under the covers and drew her into his arms. “I brought you to a land that killed four of your sons. You’ve had to work and slave by my side to build Killara. It was a hard life for a long, long time, and it’s not easy even now.”

  A look of pain fleetingly crossed Malvina’s face. “I could have lost the boys even if we had never left Belfast. Life wouldn’t have been easy for us there either.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, hearing the solid thump of his heart beneath her ear. “I don’t think life is meant to be easy for people like us, Shamus. We’re meant to work and endure, to build and to love.” Her lips brushed the hollow of his shoulder. “You gave me that, too, Shamus. Through everything, you gave me that.”

  “Yes.” His hand moved to smooth the hair at her temple. He was silent a moment, gazing at the flickering flame of the kerosene lamp on the table by the bed. “I would have sent Silver upstairs if the Scottish woman hadn’t gotten all upset about it. I know you don’t like to see her dressed like that in your house, but I thought it important we not get the MacGregor girl set against us.”

  “You were right.” Malvina had tried to overcome the raw pain she experienced whenever she saw Silver dressed in her heathen garb; it triggered so many agonizing memories. Killara burned to the ground, Rory and Boyd gone forever, killed by those murdering savages. Having Rising Star here at Killara wasn’t so bad, she tried to act like a civilized woman, but Silver … the girl’s angry defiance was a constant reminder to Malvina of her barbaric origins. When Rising Star had first brought Silver to Killara, she and Shamus had tried to be gentle with the child, but Silver had been so difficult that they’d soon stopped trying to get through to her. She had appeared to resent them even more than they resented her presence at Killara. Yet the pain she had sensed in Silver this morning in the courtyard had touched her in a strange way. Touched her and made her uneasy. “Shamus, we weren’t wrong, were we? About Silver, I mean.”

  Shamus’s clasp tightened. “We weren’t wrong.” God knows, he wasn’t sure Silver wasn’t his kin, but it was too late to admit that doubt, even to himself. He had made his choice fifteen years ago, when he had found the baby on the porch and saw the pain on Malvina’s face when she had looked at the child. It was enough that she’d lost Boyd that year. No Indian baby was going to be thrust on her to raise and remind her of that loss. The decision had been made and there was no use looking back now. Silver could take care of herself. The young devil even managed to get the best of him on occasion. “Silver isn’t Boyd’s child.”

  “Her eyes—”

  “We’re not the only family with light eyes in the territory.”

  “No.” But there had been moments when Malvina had thought she had seen flashes of Shamus’s power in those pale gray eyes of Silver’s. Imagination, she assured herself quickly. If Shamus said Silver was not their kin, then it must be true. Relief surged through her and she relaxed against him. “You’re probably right. Turn out the lamp, it’s time we were sleeping.”

  Shamus reached across her and turned down the wick of the lamp. “Sleeping?” Tender amusement threaded his words in the darkness. “And it was you who were telling me how lucky you were I could still pleasure you? Now, you can’t expect to challenge a man of my temperament like that, and then roll over and go to sleep.” He moved over her. “Love me, Malvina.”

  Her arms went around him, holding him with more tenderness than passion. Passion would come, it always did, but she wanted the tenderness first. Her hands slid over his shoulders, enjoying the play of muscles beneath her palms. He was almost as strong now as when she had first taken him into her body those many, many years ago. God in heaven, she was lucky to have a man like Shamus. “I do love you, Shamus,” she whispered. “I always will.”

  The light in the old man’s room blinked out.

  Ramon Torres leaned back against the corral post and drew in deeply on the thin brown cigarette between his lips and then exhaled slowly, thoughtfully. He had watched the lights go out one by one, and now the big house was entirely dark and silent.

  In an hour everyone would be asl
eep and he would find a way to get in. He had already inveigled the information from Rosa as to which room Dominic Delaney had been given. He could take off his boots and creep barefoot through the halls. No one would hear him, for he had taught himself to move with the stealth of his Navajo mother. Would he be able to surprise Delaney was the question. The old man’s son was a very dangerous man; his instincts had been sharpened by many years of living as a hunted man.

  Torres smiled in the darkness. Ah, he knew all about the hunt. He had been a hunter all his life. He had hunted for money, lust, revenge, and many other things, and he knew the ways of game. The secret was never to attack the prey on foreign ground, where he would be uneasy and on guard. If the hunter staked out and waited until the victim came back to his home watering hole, he had a much better chance of putting him down. This method took patience and perseverence, but then, Torres was a very patient man.

  He drew again on the cigarette. Now Dominic had returned to his home watering hole. Should he take him tonight? If he did, he’d probably have to kill everyone in the house to be safe from pursuit. Five women and old Shamus, besides Dominic Delaney. The women would be easy. A knife, silent and quick between their ribs as they slept. It was a pity he would have to kill Rosa too. Besides information, the plump widow had furnished him with many enjoyable romps in the past three months.

  Shamus and his son would not be so simple to dispatch. They both had the warrior instinct and might be more difficult to catch off guard. Torres was sure Durbin would not object to the additional deaths, but he doubted if he would pay any more for them. He might do better to wait until his prey was alone. It would be the wise and cautious way to proceed.

  Torres felt a sharp pang of disappointment as he took the cigarette from his lips and flipped it away. He stood still, looking broodingly at the orange tip glowing in the dirt of the stableyard. He was tempted to forget about caution and go after Dominic now. The blood hunger was upon him, as it always was when the kill was at hand. It was a sign he recognized and was usually able to subdue, but it was more difficult this time. He had waited too long for his prey to come into view and the hunger had sharpened to an unbearable intensity. When that happened, he, the hunter, was almost as much a prisoner as the prey.