He waited until she had reached her pinnacle of ecstasy, then took himself to his own crest. He felt tears falling from Amber’s eyes, and knew they were tears of rapture.
They held each other close, gazing into each other’s eyes with adoration. Finally Cord whispered, “Can you say you don’t want to go with me, Amber?”
She started to speak, to attempt to convince him about the boy, but he held his fingertips to her lips and said, “Let me talk. There’s something you need to know, something that might make you understand me.”
And he told her of Christina, and then about Major Powell’s expedition.
She listened to every word, and she did understand him better. But that did not change how she felt about the boy, and she tried to tell him that. He frowned and stood up and walked away. When he returned, having found a long stick to use for a cane, and having fetched her shirt, he tossed the shirt at her. “It’s still a bit damp. Stay out here in the sun, and it will dry.”
He walked back to the cave, shoulders stooped, head down. She called to him, but he kept right on going. Quickly putting on the shirt, she hurried after him. He had to understand about the boy.
Before she could talk to him, she found Dolita and they hugged. “He wants me to go home with him, but I can’t leave the boy,” Amber cried. “Even if I hadn’t found out he’s Armand’s, I still couldn’t have deserted the child. If Cord won’t help me, then I’ll just find a way to do it alone.”
Dolita looked downcast. “I hope you are not angry with me for not telling you the truth about the boy. I felt I shouldn’t.”
“No, I understand. I just hope you understand the way I feel about him.”
“No, I don’t,” Dolita said bluntly, looking directly at Amber. “I think you are making a mistake. But I will not refuse to help you. I will take you back to the village, but I do not plan to stay there for long. I have another uncle in Soinota, and I want to go there and make a new life—far from here and that fiend Valdis.”
“Neither of us will be staying long. Just help me get the boy’s trust, and then we’ll be on our way.”
Amber gave her a hug, tears of gratitude stinging her eyes. She could not have come so far without Dolita’s help, and the poor girl had suffered so much because of Amber.
Cord approached, eyeing them suspiciously, and asked in a tight voice, “Are you discussing plans to go back to the village?”
“Yes.” Amber would not lie to him. If he was too stubborn to understand, then he didn’t really love her. “I am going. If you won’t come with me, then I will go alone. My mind is made up.”
“Fine.” Cord picked up a bottle of tequila and sat down, taking a drink. He had already had several.
Nervous, Dolita got up and went outside, leaving them alone together.
Cord stared at Amber with stormy eyes. “Both of you do whatever you want. I’m sick of worrying about you. I’ve kept my promise to Armand. I’ve offered to take you to the States, maybe make a life together one day, but you have to be so goddamned stubborn. You won’t listen to reason. Fine, get yourself killed by the Indians or Valdis. I’m not going to ride herd on you till you come to your senses.”
“No one is asking you to ride herd on me!” Amber stood up.
“I’ll get on with my life,” she said furiously, “and you can get on with yours.” For long moments, silence crackled between them.
“I guess we’re not going to agree, are we?” she finally asked hoarsely, and when he did not answer, she walked away.
Cord watched her go as he reached once more for the bottle. The most beautiful woman he had ever known, and also the most impossible. Maybe she was right. Maybe they just weren’t going to agree.
As night crept upon them, Cord took his bedroll and went outside the cave, while Amber bedded down near the fire. She pretended not to notice when Puetas drew Dolita into the shadows; tried to block out the sound of their whispered giggles.
Outside, Cord sat very still, listening to the lonely whisper of the wind as it rustled through the trees. At last, quietly, he gathered his things. He mounted his horse, anger keeping him from telling Amber good-bye. Maybe, he thought bitterly, he should have kept the vow he’d made never to give a damn about another woman.
Cord rode into the night. He did not look back.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Amber sat on the hard ground, the Indian children gathered about her. Spring had arrived, and they were grouped beneath the newly leafed branches of a cottonwood tree. Round-eyed, brown-skinned faces watched her with curious interest. They understood no Spanish, and, of course, no English. The days passed quickly, and as Amber devoted her every waking hour to little Armand, as she called him, the other children and the adults had begun treating her like an exotic pet.
Puetas had offered to go after Cord, to talk to him, but Amber had dully told him not to bother. He had looked at her strangely but said nothing more, and he, Dolita, and Amber then had made their way to the Indian village.
The Indians were wary when they saw Amber and Dolita again, accompanied by yet another stranger, but Cuelo decreed that they be tolerated as long as they did their share of work in the village. That meant helping in the fields. Cuelo warned the strangers and his niece not to interfere with local customs.
Amber did not object to the work. It gave her time to be with the little boy. She learned that the name he answered to, when anyone bothered to speak to him at all, was “Malo,” meaning “bad.” Amber bristled and declared, “Not anymore! Since he has no name of his own, I’ll christen him ‘Armand.’”
Dolita shook her head and wandered away. Amber was going to face a big disappointment, for the boy was hopelessly hostile.
Amber smoothed the front of her dowdy dress and, shading her eyes against the glare of the bright spring sunshine, scanned the rough landscape beyond where the crops were being planted. Spotting Puetas and Dolita toiling side by side in the field, she made her way over to join them. As she approached, Dolita exchanged a worried glance with Puetas, then said to Amber, “There may not be time to make friends with little Armand. Yesterday, one of the men out hunting saw a stranger, a man who looked like a bandit and was watching the village. When he saw the hunter, the stranger rode away. Puetas and I have talked, and we think it was one of Valdis’s men. It may not be safe for us here any longer.”
Amber’s twinge of fear was overshadowed by her agitation. “We can’t go to pieces every time a stranger is seen in the mountains, Dolita. You two can leave any time you wish, but I’m not leaving without that boy.”
Puetas eyed her warily. “The Indians here do not interfere in what does not concern them. They will not defend us if Valdis comes. They will stand back and let us be taken. I will be killed for betraying Valdis, and you and Dolita would be better off dead. Should Valdis and Gerras take you again, this time, they will make you beg for a quick death.”
Amber shuddered, but refused to let Puetas see how upset she was. “I’m not running. Besides, Valdis has probably succeeded in buying off the law by now and gone home. He probably thinks the four of us crossed the border weeks ago.”
“He wants you,” Puetas said simply. “He told me he had never desired a woman more fiercely. He vows to have you or die.”
Amber nodded grimly. “I know.” And she did.
An hour later, Amber and the still-wary child were sitting together near the fire. Amber looked down at the boy and felt a warm rush to see a rare bright smile on his face. Impulsively, he squeezed her hand tightly, and in that moment she knew that it was going to be all right between them.
Amber pointed to a distant hill. “Armand, there are beautiful cactus flowers up there. Would you show me the way up? I would like to find a cool place to sit and be quiet, and I want you with me.”
He understood enough, and they began to climb, and several times Amber almost slipped. “I’m not a mountain goat,” she said with a laugh. The boy laughed with her.
Finally they reach
ed a large, flat rock overlooking the valley below. He sat beside her, and she slipped her arm about him. They sat in silence, and Amber looked down into the valley. She could see the Indians working in the fields, and the thought came to her that it was a bleak existence. Had she been born into it, perhaps she would be content, for she would know no other life. Grinning to herself, she wondered what her grandmother would think to see her in buckskins!
The peaceful glow was darkened by thoughts of Cord. If only he were here! The three of them could leave together and make a new life. But Cord was gone…and this knowledge hurt badly. There was only herself and little Armand. Well, together, they would make that new life.
Suddenly she turned to look at the boy and asked, “Would you like to go away with me, Armand? Leave Mexico and go to America? I could find a place for us to live, some kind of work to do. I would take care of you. You will never hurt again.” She hugged him. “I know you don’t completely trust me yet, but you will.”
The boy picked up a stick. Handing it to her, he pointed to the dirt.
“You want me to draw you a picture?” Amber asked, pleasantly surprised. He made no reply, and she slid from the rock and fell to her knees before him on the ground. Drawing a crude outline of what she hoped the United States and Mexico looked like, she pointed to Mexico, then to him, and said, “You are here. And here is where we will go.”
To her delight, he nodded.
Amber leaped to grab him in her arms. “You understand, Armand! You understand that I want to take you with me. And you want to go, don’t you?”
He could only smile, but that was enough. He understood, and he wanted to go with her. That was all that mattered.
They sat on horseback on a rise above and to the north of Amber and the boy. They had been watching the Indian village since dawn, hidden within a thick clump of sage and brush.
Valdis Alezparito’s chest swelled with rage, and Gerras turned to look at him and ask, “It is the American, no?”
Valdis nodded grimly. “My scout was right. It is Amber. But why is she here? I thought she would be with Hayden, but no one has seen him anywhere at all, and I have had many men looking.” He pointed to the village. “Something else. I am sure the traitor-dog, Puetas, is there also. And, no doubt, the puta you want, Gerras.”
Gerras grinned, and in response, Valdis’s lips twisted into the cold grimace that, for Valdis, passed for a smile. “I carry the scar of the silver-haired beauty, and you carry the scar of the American. We both hunger for vengeance. We shall have it.”
“You want to ride in there now?” asked Gerras.
“We will wait until they are sleeping and take them by surprise. The only shot I want fired is one that wounds Puetas. But don’t shoot to kill. I prefer to slit his throat and let him feel his life’s blood draining slowly away.” Valdis nodded toward Amber and the boy. “You know the boy?” He grinned. “It’s Mendosa’s bastard.”
Gerras’s eyes widened. “The half-breed? But why is he with her?”
“Perhaps she knows he is the son of Armand Mendosa. If so, this could be good, for she will be obedient if she thinks we might hurt the boy.”
Gerras matched his grin. “I believe our luck is changing.”
Unseen and unheard, Puetas slipped from his hiding place in the rocks above them; trembling, cold sweat dotting his forehead. He had heard everything the two men had said.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cuelo, looking agitated and gesturing impatiently, was waiting when Amber and the boy returned from their walk. He held up a dead rabbit and shook it, speaking in his tongue, which she did not have to understand to know why he was angry. He wanted the rabbit cooked for his supper, and expected her or Dolita to prepare it.
Just as she was about to apologize for her lack of knowledge in cleaning wild animals, Armand reached to take the rabbit from Cuelo. The boy hurried away. That seemed to satisfy the old Indian, and Amber knew that the boy was skinning the animal.
A little later, Armand brought back the rabbit, smiling proudly. He built a fire, fashioned a skewer from a stick, and in no time was turning the rabbit over the flames. Amber was amazed. When it was done, Cuelo came and ate, much more than his share, and Amber wished there were more for Armand. When he reached for a piece of the meat, Cuelo slapped his hand away and doled out only a small bite for the child.
“It won’t be like this much longer,” she said to the boy, giving him what was left on her own clay plate—which was almost all she had been served. “Soon, there will be plenty for you to eat, Armand. I promise.”
He looked at her and grinned, as though he understood.
Dusk turned to a cool night of purple skies and dancing silver stars. The village people settled down early for sleep, for planting time was upon them, and they were weary from their long day in the fields.
Amber stretched out on a pallet. It was not too uncomfortable, and the clean, pungent aroma of the sagebrush and pine stuffing was pleasing. The night was chilly, so she made sure there was enough wood on the fire at the entrance to her lean-to. She snuggled beneath one of the thin woven blankets and tucked the other about Armand. She pounded the pallet beneath her, smoothing the lumps of crushed filling, commanding herself not to think of Cord.
“Señorita…”
She leaped, then sighed with relief at the sight of Puetas creeping into the lean-to, but her smile quickly faded when she saw how frightened he looked. “Whatever is wrong?” she said in a low voice, so as not to awaken the boy. “Where is Dolita? Has something happened to her?”
He held a finger to his lips for silence, and she saw that his hand was trembling. Kneeling beside her, he quickly whispered, “Dolita is safe. I have hidden her far away where she will not be found. Forgive me, but I had to think of her first, I love her so.”
Amber was bewildered and fast becoming frightened. “Puetas, tell me what is going on. Why did you hide Dolita?”
“Because in the mountains I saw Valdis and Gerras—”
She gasped, and he quickly moved to cover her mouth with his hand. “No! Do not awaken the boy just yet. You must be quiet and listen. As I said, you must forgive me, for my first thoughts when I saw them and overheard them were for Dolita and myself. Gerras wants her, and they both mean to kill me. They come for all of us. Tonight. I was going to stay hidden…” His voice and his eyes dropped in shame.
Amber struggled to keep disgust and anger under control. “You were going to run away with Dolita, but you decided to come back and warn me. So now what do we do?”
“We must go at once.”
Amber scrambled to her feet, whispering, “Help me carry the child.”
“There is no time,” Puetas cried anxiously. “I do not know when they will come. It is true that I almost did not come back, but I knew I could not live with myself if I did not warn you. Call me a coward if you wish, but if you do not leave the boy and come with me now, I will go alone and leave you to face them.
“This is your doing,” he added, accusing her when he saw the condemning blaze of her smoky eyes. “Señor Hayden offered to take you away, but you refused because of the boy.” He tossed a scornful look at the sleeping child. “I can help you no more if you refuse to come with me alone.”
“Puetas, you are a coward!” Amber exploded, forgetting to whisper and instantly waking Armand.
She grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “Do not be afraid.” She forced a tight smile to her own quivering lips. “We are leaving now, Armand. We will take the blankets so we won’t be cold, and we will take my horse. We will go to the mountains and hide until morning. You can show me the way.” She wondered if she was really babbling to herself.
“Señorita, please!” Puetas begged. “Leave him. Come with us now. There is no time.”
“Go!” she hissed. “We don’t need you!”
There was the sound of scuffling in the darkness beyond, and the night was split by the blue-white flash of an exploding gun.
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“Ah, my lovely one, surely you do not wish to leave without even saying hello?”
She froze at the sight of Valdis, his triumphantly leering face illuminated by the fire’s gentle glow. He held a smoking gun at his side. “Puetas,” she gasped, quickly shoving Armand behind her to shield him. “You have killed him!”
“No, no,” Valdis said quickly, stepping into the lean-to. “He is not dead. Not yet. First, he will tell where he has hidden the servant girl. Gerras wants her. He shall have her. And I shall have you.”
Amber continued to hold Armand behind her tightly, feeling his convulsive tremors. Giving her long hair an arrogant toss, she cried, “You don’t give up, do you? It doesn’t matter to you that I think you are ugly, repulsive, and every ether filthy, rotten thing I can think of. I despise you!”
She had been waiting for the move, watching the ominous flashing of his eyes, and when he brought his arm up to strike her, she was ready. Ducking, she pushed Armand to one side and screamed, “Run! Run!” At the same time, she grabbed for Valdis’s gun, catching him off guard and jerking it from him at the same time she brought her knee up into his crotch. He screamed in pain and doubled over. Holding the weapon with both hands, she backed away, leveling the gun straight at him.
“Now, you monster,” she cried, grateful to hear the hasty running sounds that told her the boy had understood and obeyed her, “this changes things, doesn’t it? I have never killed a man, but I don’t think it will bother me one bit to pull this trigger. I’m sure nobody will miss you.”
Clutching himself between his legs, Valdis whispered, “This means nothing, bitch. If you will look behind you, you will see that Gerras has the boy. You may kill me, but when you pull the trigger, Gerras will slit his throat. Slowly.”
“Drop the gun!” Gerras commanded from behind her. “Drop it or I cut him.”
Amber was helpless. A movement caught her eye, and she turned her head ever so slightly to see that Puetas, drenched in his own blood, had crawled into the halo of firelight and was holding out a feeble hand to her. “Do as he says or they will kill both of you.”
Golden Roses Page 20
