Chapter Eighteen
Ramon didn’t return to Llano Mirada. He would have liked to—there his thoughts did not stray so often to Caralee.
But they had just completed a raid and he must remain at home in order to allay suspicion.
He rode the stallion hard all the way back to Las Almas, craving the demands that mastering the powerful animal exerted on his strength, and the cleansing of the sun and the wind.
He didn’t want to think of Carly and the powerful yearning he had suffered the moment he had seen her by the pond.
He didn’t want to recall the way he’d been drawn to her almost against his will.
Just seeing her there, in the place where they had made such beautiful love, made his blood heat up, seethe like molten lava beneath his skin.
The need to touch her, drive himself inside her, had been nearly overwhelming.
He had done it to punish her, he told himself.
And simply because he wanted her. He was her husband, no matter how many men she might lie with.
She belonged to him and he could do with her as he wished.
He told himself he had needed a woman. She was there and taking her would please him.
He gave himself a dozen different excuses but none of them was the truth.
He had gone to her because he had no other choice.
She had said she loved him. Again and again she had told him that. He hated her for it. For making him still want her. For making him still love her.
Ramon leaned forward over the saddle and topped the ridge at a gallop, the stallion raising dust as its sleek, golden body stretched to the task, white mane and tail flying out behind.
Finally he pulled back on the reins, slowing the animal to a high-stepping walk.
Rey was lathered and beginning to tire, and so was he.
Thinking of the past did no good. Whatever he felt for Caralee was over and done.
He had other problems to consider. His mother had been feeling poorly and he was worried about her.
And he was worried about the boy.
He could still remember the terrible look on Two Hawks’s face when the young boy had approached him about Caralee.
“Don Ramon?”
He was out in the barn, currying Rey del Sol, who stood placidly in his stall while little Bajito slept in the straw at his feet. “Si, muchacho, what is it?”
“Mariano says the senora will not return.”
Ramon’s long fingers curled tighter over the brush that stilled halfway down Rey’s muscular neck. “Si, that is so.”
“Why, senor? I thought she liked it here. She told me she was happy.”
He dragged the brush over the stallion’s powerful shoulder. “Sometimes such things just happen.”
“But she is your wife. Among my people, a wife must stay with her husband. Is it not the same with your people?”
Ramon ignored the knot balling hard in his stomach. “Si, but … there are times when things do not work as we plan.”
Big dark eyes stared up at him. “She did not leave because of me? Because of what happened in the village … because I killed a white man?”
Ramon shook his head. “No, Two Hawks. You did only what any man would have done. You were trying to protect your loved ones. The senora understood that. Her leaving had nothing to do with you.”
But Two Hawks didn’t seem to believe it, and in the weeks Caralee had been gone, the boy had become even more distant and brooding. It worried Ramon, though he didn’t know what to do to help him.
It wasn’t until six days after his return from the pond that the notion struck him, six days of trying not to think of Caralee. Yet it was seeing her again that had finally given him the idea of what he might do about the boy. It was early in the morning when he went to the corral in search of him.
“You wished to see me, Don Ramon?” Two Hawks approached at a run, his slim face covered by a sheen of perspiration.
“There is something I need you to do, muchacho. There is a bundle of the senora’s things sitting on the couch in the sala. I want you to take them to her at Rancho del Robles.”
He blinked and the blood seemed to drain from his face. “You wish me to go to the senora?”
“Si, that is right.”
“Wh-what if she does not wish to see me?”
Ramon put a hand on the youth’s slender shoulder. “She will wish it, Two Hawks. Whatever has happened between my wife and me has nothing to do with you. I promise she will be glad to see you.”
He still looked uncertain, but nodded with resignation. He had cut his black hair a little shorter, but still pulled it back in a thong at the nape of his neck. Already it seemed he had grown several inches, but the truth was, with the proper food and care, he had simply begun to fill out.
“Do you know the way to del Robles?” Ramon asked.
“Si, I was there once with my sister.”
“Then go. See the senora gets her things. I am certain she will be grateful.”
He watched the boy leave, knowing whatever Carly had done, she cared for the boy. She would recognize his fears, and the warmth of her greeting would lay them to rest.
Ramon ignored a twinge of jealousy that it was the boy who would receive her warm smiles and fond caresses and not him.
Two Hawks returned from the barn, leading the slightly swaybacked gelding Mariano had been teaching him to ride.
Already he sat straight in the saddle, at ease on the animal as if he had been born to it.
He would make a fine vaquero one day, Ramon thought.
He carried himself as proudly as the great Andalusians he was only just learning to handle.
With a wave over his shoulder, Two Hawks rode out through the gate, passing a rider coming in the opposite direction. Ramon shaded his eyes toward the man who sat so rigidly in his saddle, as if he were on guard for whatever might come.
Ramon’s mouth twisted, a bitter smile coming to his face.
Perhaps his cousin was right to be on guard.
Even now it was all Ramon could do to keep from dragging Angel down from his horse and pounding him into the dirt.
Instead he forced his balled hands to relax and returned his cousin’s greeting if not with a smile, at least with a semblance of civility.
“Angel. You are the last person I expected to see.”
“I am certain that is so, cousin. Nevertheless, I am here.”
“So I see. There is something that you want?” The question came out curtly though he tried to keep the tension from his voice.
“I will not be staying, if that is your concern. I am certain your—wife—has seen to it that I am no longer welcome.”
Some of the anger drained from Ramon’s stiff posture. What happened wasn’t Angel’s fault any more than it was his own. “I am sorry, cousin. Of course you are welcome. As for my wife, she is no longer here.”
Angel relaxed a little at that and simply nodded. “We did not have a chance to speak in Monterey. I only just discovered that Andreas is dead.”
“Si.” A dull ache rose at the mention of his brother’s name.
Usually he could keep the pain at bay, but it was always there inside him, more pronounced since Carly had been gone.
“Your sister must have told you. His death is not common knowledge. There are only a few of us who knew he was in the country.”
“I am sorry, cousin. Your brother was a good man.” Angel smiled thinly. “And also a good leader, I am told.”
Ramon tensed once more, but Angel didn’t seem to notice.
“There are few secrets among family, Ramon. I know of this bandito, El Dragón. I know Andreas was that man. Now your brother is dead, but another man leads the band and the outlaws continue to raid against the Anglos. I wish to join them, Ramon. I believe you can tell me where to find them.”
In times past he would not have hesitated to tell his cousin the whole grim story.
Now he simply said, “They are camped at Llano Mirada. You remember it from when we were children? The high plateau we found the first summer we went hunting on our own.” Soon enough Angel would discover Ramon’s involvement but not yet.
“Si, I remember.” Angel smiled, making him look younger and more handsome than he had before. Ramon wondered bitterly if it was that kind of smile that had urged his wife to invite him to her bed.
“There are two ways in,” Ramon continued.
“Both are heavily guarded. Tell them you are Andreas’s cousin.
” He slid the heavy gold and ruby ring with the de la Guerra family crest off his finger, the ring he had given to Caralee the day of their wedding.
He had found it in his saddlebag when he had gotten back from Monterey.
“Show them this and tell them it is I who have sent you.” He handed the ring to Angel, ignoring the odd sense of irony that his cousin should wind up with the ring he had used to wed Caralee.
“Gracias, amigo.”
“I did not know they had let you out of prison,” Ramon said.
“They did not exactly let me out. It was more like I escaped.” Angel began to back his horse away. “Again I am sorry about what happened in Monterey.”
“So am I,” Ramon said. “And I would advise you it is a subject best not mentioned again.”
Angel’s mouth flattened abruptly. “As you wish,” he said. “I am grateful for the information.” Whirling his horse, he dug his big silver rowels into the animal’s ribs harder than he should have, and pounded away back down the road.
Ramon stared after him until the dust of his leaving settled into the high brown grasses.
The thought of seeing his cousin each time he rode into Llano Mirada made a hard knot ball in his stomach.
Then again, perhaps very soon it would not matter.
Mariano had returned from Santa Barbara, and even now, safely inside a chest in the house, Ramon held the documents that might return Rancho del Robles to its rightful owners.
He had written to Alejandro de Estrada in Monterey and tomorrow he would forward the lawyer the papers.