“I’m going to hand him in to the authorities,” Sawyer answered, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “He’ll be hanged for his crimes, Zafiro.”
“Yes. He will be hanged, but first he will tell on my men. It will be his last crime on earth, but he will commit it out of revenge before he hangs. And then they will come here. The lawmen will find La Escondida and arrest Maclovio, Lorenzo, and Pedro.”
Slowly, Sawyer looked up from the groaning man on the ground and met Zafiro’s gaze. “What do you want me to do?” he asked softly.
Zafiro narrowed her eyes and tried to suppress the revulsion her reply brought to her. “I want you to kill him.”
Sawyer had never shot at a defenseless man before, much less killed one. It was one thing to fire at a man who was shooting back.
It was entirely different to shoot a gagged, bound, and barely conscious one.
But he didn’t argue. Indeed, there was nothing he could think of that he wouldn’t do to put a final end to Zafiro’s years of terror.
Closing his mind to the cold-blooded murder he was about to commit, he slid his Colt from his gun belt, cocked it, and aimed the gleaming weapon at the man’s head.
“No!” Zafiro flew off the porch and into the yard toward Sawyer, pushing him with all her might when she reached him.
“Zafiro, what the hell—”
“I cannot,” she squeaked miserably. “Afraid as I am that this man will tell on my men, I cannot let you kill him like this! He is tied up and gagged, lying on the ground without a single way to defend himself. I… It is wrong. It is wrong to murder him this way, Sawyer.”
At that moment, as her words sang through his thoughts, Sawyer realized he loved her. No heart in the world beat the way Zafiro’s did, with such compassion, such mercy, such extraordinary goodness.
She was an angel. And he knew it to be so just as surely as if God had just whispered it into his ear.
His gun still dangling in his hand, he started to reach for her, wanting her in his arms so badly that he had to subdue the urge to grab and crush her to him.
But the man on the ground stopped him.
Squinting his eyes against the vicious pain in his head, the man rocked himself into a sitting position, then staggered to his feet. Glancing at Night Master’s Colt, he knew he was going to die.
But he wasn’t going to meet his Maker before trying to escape. Impossible though he knew getting away would be, he turned and began to run.
At the edge of the woods Mariposa met him. The great cat sniffed the air, recognizing his scent as a strange one. With one graceful leap she brought the man down, then sank her teeth into his throat.
He never even had the chance to scream before he died.
In her own bed, Zafiro lay beside Sawyer. The hour was late, and there was no chance Tia would catch them together. All five of the elderly people were so exhausted from a day filled with fear, horror, and overwhelming relief that they’d sought their rooms and gone to sleep as soon as the first hint of dusk had pinkened the sky.
This night with Sawyer would be her last. No longer was there a reason for him to stay. He’d succeeded in accomplishing every last thing she’d asked him to do.
But she wasn’t going to let her sadness ruin these final hours with him. There would be time enough to grieve when he was gone.
A lifetime.
“Sawyer.”
He moved above her, lowering his body down upon hers and holding her sapphire gaze steady as he stared into her eyes.
She felt his masculinity slide between her legs. It was hot. She wanted it to set her afire.
He entered her slightly, then withdrew completely, teasing her into wanting more…all he could give her.
She responded to his actions with a kiss so full of passion and sweetness that he almost admitted that he’d fallen in love with her.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he told her with his body what he could not tell her with words.
He loved her more tenderly than he ever had before, lifting her slowly and wonderfully toward the highest rapture two lovers can find.
And while he held her in his arms, drank of her exquisite kisses, and filled her with himself, he realized that for the first time in his life he’d made love to a woman. For his coupling with Zafiro was not mere mating. Was not only a sexual union.
She was in love with him, and he with her.
In its truest form, this was lovemaking.
I love you, he told her when she trembled beneath him.
I love you, he told her again when his own release melded with hers.
I love you, he told her once more when she snuggled beside him and began to kiss away the dampness on his face that their lovemaking had caused.
“I love you, Sawyer,” she whispered.
He watched her lick her glistening lips, lips made moist by the dampness on his face that she’d kissed away.
And only he knew that the droplets of moisture she tasted were his tears.
Before Zafiro even opened her eyes the next morning, she knew Sawyer was gone. There’d been no need for another good-bye.
His tender lovemaking last night had been his farewell.
Her sorrow too deep for tears, her actions almost mechanical, she got out of bed, then turned to pull up the covers.
Her hands stilled before ever touching the sheet or the blanket.
Scattered all over the bed were roses. Their thorny stems clipped off, the red rosebuds filled her heart with memories of Sawyer.
How many, many times had Sawyer picked roses for her?
Too many times to count.
She gathered the fragrant blossoms from the bed and put them in a basket. Every night before she went to sleep she would look at them. Touch them. They would soon shrivel, blacken, and die.
But her love for Sawyer Donovan never would.
After making the bed, she dressed and left the room to awaken her companions and tell them the news of Sawyer’s departure. For their sake, and because every one of them wept, she continued to hold her own tears at bay.
Days passed, and still she didn’t cry. The days spilled into weeks, bringing the arrival of autumn, the first kiss of frost…
…and the discovery that she carried Sawyer’s child.
Sitting in the swing he’d made for her, she glanced at the paddock in front of the barn. Coraje looked back at her.
Sawyer had taken his father’s horse. Apple Lover. The wild stallion he’d tamed pawed at the cold earth.
She moved her gaze to the rose beds. Ice sparkled upon the velvety leaves, making the flowers seem coated with diamonds.
Roses. The very thought of the flowers Sawyer had picked and spread all over her bed the morning he left squeezed around her heart.
She laid her hand over her lower belly.
And her tears finally came.
Bending over at the waist and pulling weeds from the thriving vegetable garden, Zafiro swiped at her moist forehead with her sleeve. Although a mountain breeze picked up her hair and teased her skirts, the summer sunshine beat down on her.
She straightened, admiring the fine wall of pine logs Maclovio had built around the garden. Copying the same design Sawyer had used, the gentle giant had built another enclosure to replace the one he’d burned down so long ago.
Maclovio had also fenced in two large pastures. Pancha, Rayo, Mister, and the horses now had wide-open enclosures in which to run, graze, and play.
With the money Sawyer had left them Zafiro had the nuns purchase livestock. Tia, Azucar, Pedro, and Lorenzo enjoyed taking care of all the pigs, sheep, and new chickens, and the money the animals fetched in the villages was enough to keep La Escondida well-supplied with needed provisions.
All was well, Zafiro thought, as she gazed at the beautiful ranges of the Sierra Madres.
All except her broken heart. It would never be whole again.
Not without Sawyer.
With a dirty hand s
he brushed away her tears, then continued to yank out the weeds that grew between the vegetable plants.
A while later a strange feeling passed over her. When she first felt it she named it fear.
But it wasn’t fear, she realized. It was something else. A shiver, but not one of cold, not one of dread. It was more like a shimmer, she amended. A shimmer of expectation.
Bewildered by the unfamiliar sensation, she ignored the weeds she’d been about to pull and stood up straight.
Her aching heart took on a rhythm she hadn’t felt in months. Its lethargic beat quickened—like some dying thing that had been kissed back to vibrant life.
She reached for her sapphire, her fingers curling around the ball of cold, blue fire. A smile tilted her lips, but even as she felt its presence she couldn’t understand what caused it.
A feeling of anticipation caused her to lose her breath. She began to pant. Short little puffs of air that gradually made her giddy with a happiness she couldn’t comprehend.
She stood still in the garden and listened. Listened not to any sound she could hear with her ears.
But to the whispered words of her soul.
And then she knew. Before any noise at all hit her ears, she knew.
She tore out of the vegetable patch. As she raced through the door a nail snagged her skirt and ripped the fabric, but she didn’t care. Through the yard she fled, past Tia and Azucar, who were playing with a new litter of piglets. Past Maclovio, Lorenzo, and Pedro, who’d just emerged from the henhouse with baskets full of eggs.
She’d just begun to scale the rocky slope that led to the exit of La Escondida when the words she’d heard in her soul finally wafted into her ears.
“Zafiro!” the voice shouted loudly, ringing through the mountains. “Zafiro, I’m back!”
She staggered backward, catching hold of a leafy shrub to keep herself from falling. Her gaze centered on the wooden portals that opened into La Escondida, she felt the broken pieces of her heart come together as if some unseen hand had joined them again.
And then he was there. Mounted on Apple Lover, his long hair shining around his face like strands of burnished gold.
Sawyer.
She tried to call his name, but her joy was too deep to put to sound.
Silently, she watched him ride down the slope. A wagon followed him. A cart filled with children of various ages and the ugliest dog she’d ever seen.
Ira drove the wagon. She knew he did. He was a young man with black hair, blue eyes, and a bright smile. And Tucker, Jesse, and Jenna sat in the back. Tucker had red hair, green eyes, and thousands of freckles. The twins, Jesse and Jenna, both had yellow-blond hair, brown eyes, and buckteeth.
Pretty Girl sat beside Ira, wagging her stubby tail. The mongrel looked as though someone had dipped her into at least ten different colors of paint, and she barked with the kind of happiness that only well-loved dogs have.
“Zafiro.”
She looked up at him, at the man she loved more with each breath she took, with each beat of her heart, with each second more that God granted to earth.
“I’m back.” Sawyer dismounted, let go of Apple Lover’s reins, and held out his arms.
In an instant Zafiro felt his embrace close securely around her. Arms she thought would never wrap around her again warmed her with peace, security, and happiness once more.
“I’ve brought my brothers and my sister,” Sawyer murmured into her hair, so overcome with emotion that he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight. “Ira,” he called. “Tucker, Jesse, and Jenna. Come meet Zafiro.”
The children bounded out of the wagon, each of them shaking her hand and hugging her around the waist. She hugged them all numerous times, not stopping until Sawyer finally took her into his arms again.
“A town,” he whispered, sliding his fingers down her cheek. “I’ve got the money. School’s out. They aren’t in school now. I’ve brought them, my brothers and sister. We’ll build a town, Zafiro. With a store. It’ll have a jar of jawbreakers.”
She couldn’t understand a word he was saying, but it didn’t matter. He was here.
He’d come back to her.
“I’ve got the money,” Sawyer tried to make her understand. “Night Master. I… Every time I went out on a raid I thought of you. Of your lifelong wish to live in a town.”
Gently, he drew away from her, aiming his gaze into eyes so blue they defied description. “La Escondida is going to be a town, Zafiro. We’re going to build. We’re going to bring people here. We’re going to make it a town.”
She struggled to understand, but couldn’t. All she could dwell upon was the fact that he stood right in front of her. Sawyer.
Her Sawyer.
“I got a pardon for your men,” Sawyer told her, her beauty so mesmerizing to him that he could barely explain. “I lied. Told Synner’s authorities that I’d witnessed the deaths of Luis and his men with my own eyes. Told them I’d watched the old Quintana Gang shoot them down. I’ve lived in Synner my whole life, and my reputation there is spotless. The sheriff believed me. The charges… Zafiro, the charges against your men have been dropped. The authorities were so glad to know that Luis and his men were dead that they pardoned Maclovio, Lorenzo, and Pedro.”
Somehow, through the daze of her happiness, his words finally took root. “Free,” she whispered. “My men are free.”
“Yes.”
Sawyer brought her close to him again, so close that he could feel her pulse thrum against his body. “I love you, Zafiro. I think I’ve loved you since the day you told me to put my head in the bucket and drown. All the time I’ve been away I’ve been working for a way to come back. Back here. To La Escondida, where I fell in love with you.”
Zafiro could hardly see him through the blur of her tears. “Sawyer,” she whispered.
“Marry me, Zafiro. Say you’ll marry me.”
She gazed into the topaz eyes of the most wonderful man in the world. “Yes,” she murmured with all the love she’d ever imagined could exist. “Yes, I will marry you, Sawyer Donovan.”
He bent to kiss her, but before his lips touched hers, Maclovio, Pedro, Lorenzo, Azucar, and Tia hobbled up the slope.
He frowned as he watched Tia struggle up the hill. In her plump arms was a swaddled bundle.
And it was moving.
“Zafiro, I have brought him,” Tia panted.
Zafiro didn’t miss the glow of pride in the old woman’s eyes. After finally being convinced that her “dear little Francisco” had become a man and that he’d fallen in love with Zafiro, Tia believed the child to be her grandson.
“Sawyer,” Zafiro said. She took the wiggling, blanket-swathed package from Tia’s arms and gently handed it to Sawyer.
His arms shaking, he stared down at the golden-haired baby whose sapphire eyes were the exact shade of Zafiro’s. Comprehension dawned on him like the first light of day upon the darkest hour of the night, but he could find no words to express his thoughts or feelings.
“Your son,” Zafiro said proudly. “Jaime Russell Ciro Donovan.”
Jaime Russell Ciro Donovan, Sawyer repeated silently. The name didn’t blend, but it didn’t matter.
His son was the most magnificent being he’d ever laid eyes on, and his heart was already so full of love for the baby boy that he wondered if it would burst.
Holding little Jaime close to his chest, he leaned over and touched his lips to Zafiro’s.
Wild applause echoed through the Sierras as Zafiro’s elderly charges and Sawyer’s brothers and sister began to clap.
And Sawyer realized that the loss of his past had ultimately given him a future.
At La Escondida.
With the most beautiful, loving, and outlandish woman in the world.
Zafiro Maria Quintana.
Epilogue
Zafiro strolled out of the cabin that sat at the end of Main Street. Smiling and waving at all the people walking along the boardwalks on either side of her, she looked arou
nd for her elderly charges.
In front of the mercantile Lorenzo played checkers with Maclovio. Jengibre sat on their table, pecking at the checkers. The two men waved back at her, then Lorenzo promptly fell asleep, not waking even when he banged his head on the checkerboard.
Zafiro passed the town stable and the saloon, where Azucar stood by the swinging doors kissing a man too drunk to realize he was fondling a woman old enough to be his great-great grandmother. The sight made Zafiro smile, then laugh.
She neared the whitewashed church and saw Pedro. Dressed in his white robe with his string of keys dangling from his scrawny neck, he was deep in discussion with Father Vasquez.
Father Vasquez waved to her. “Pedro is teaching me to speak Hebrew, Zafiro!” he called gaily, then winked at her.
Laughing once more, Zafiro returned his sly wink, then continued down the well-swept street and approached the town’s cafe. A quaint blue and white structure with terra-cotta pots filled with red geraniums scattered all around its little yard, the restaurant was always filled with the delicious scents of Tia’s cooking. And the cafe was always busy, too, for not a single townsperson could resist the woman’s kindness or her food. Even as Zafiro peered into the sparkling window of the establishment, she could see Tia fussing over a table full of smiling patrons.
Sawyer’s brothers and sister, Ira, Tucker, Jesse, and Jenna, helped Tia in the cafe when they weren’t in school. Indeed, they thought of her as their grandmother, and Tia fussed over and spoiled them just as a grandmother was supposed to do.
Thankful and happy that Sawyer’s brothers and sister had found such love and happiness in La Escondida, Zafiro walked past Tia’s cafe and noticed Mariposa sitting near a bush that grew in front of the blacksmith’s. The cougar still wasn’t sure she liked everyone who lived in the town, but she hadn’t done a single thing to upset anyone.
Well, Zafiro amended silently, the cat had sneaked into the mercantile and knocked the jar of jawbreakers off the counter one day. But considering what other chaos the mountain lion could cause, a few spilled candies wasn’t much to fret over.
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