Chapter Twenty-one #3
Mariano and Two Hawks carried Ramon into the house.
“Don Ramon is strong,” the boy said. “He will be all right, senora … now that you are home.” He gave her an encouraging smile, then went out to rub down the lathered horses, grain them, and put them away.
Tia helped Carly limp into the bedroom, then Carly and Ramon’s mother began to strip off his bloody clothes while Tia Teresa went outside to help Blue Blanket boil water to cleanse the wound.
“It is not so bad as you think.” Ramon’s soft voice drifted up from the middle of the bed.
“I have survived far worse.” Now that he was home, some of his strength had returned.
Though his face looked pale beneath his dark skin, his features drawn and tight, he smiled at Carly with warmth, and she reached out to clasp his hand.
“I am not going to die,” he said, “though perhaps I should pretend to such a thing. I am not above doing so, if I thought it would bring you back home.”
Her heart wrenched, tilted inside her. “I am home, Ramon. I’m never going to leave you again.”
Tia and his mother exchanged silent glances, turned and slipped quietly out of the room.
Ramon squeezed her hand. “You cannot stay here, Cara, not tonight. Your uncle must not guess your involvement in this—nor mine. If he does, everything we have worked for will be lost.”
Her eyes dimmed at his words. “But—but I can’t just leave you—you’re wounded! I have to stay here and take care of you.”
He smiled at her with tenderness. “You know that I am right.”
“My uncle won’t be back until tomorrow. Surely I can stay until then.”
Ramon watched her with such longing it made her heart turn over.
“Do you think I wish for you to go? What I want is for you to stay here. If there was any way I could survive it, I would drag you into this bed and pull you beneath me. I would show you in a hundred different ways exactly how much I love you. Instead I must send you away.”
Carly clutched his hand. “Let me stay.”
“It is too dangerous for you to remain. The women will see to my wounds—you must not worry about that. I told you before, I have suffered far worse … and I have much to live for.” He pressed a gentle kiss into the palm of her hand.
“Two Hawks will bring fresh horses. Mariano will ride with you back to the ranch. When it is safe for you to return, I will be waiting.”
The ache in her throat returned. Her eyes glazed with tears and a tight knot formed in her chest. She glanced at Ramon and even as he watched her, his eyes drifted closed, the loss of blood and fatigue dragging him once more into unconsciousness.
He might die tonight and she would not be with him.
He might die and she would never see him again.
He might live and her absence from del Robles would alert her uncle and surely get him hanged.
Her heart thudding dully, Carly bent over him and pressed a soft kiss on his lips, then she turned to see Tia and Mother de la Guerra standing in the doorway.
“We will care for him well,” Tia promised, her own rheumy eyes clouded with tears.
“Si,” said his mother, “but the best medicine for my son is that his wife will soon be home.”
Carly blinked back a fresh round of wetness. “I don’t want to go, but I must. I have to keep him safe.”
The older woman nodded.
“I’ll be back just as soon as I can.” She hugged them as she made her way past, and they helped her outside.
Standing in the yard, Two Hawks and Mariano waited with fresh horses.
The stout vaquero lifted her up on a tall bay gelding, swung into the saddle of his own bay horse, and tied Sunflower’s reins to his saddle horn.
They rode in silence back toward del Robles, neither of them voicing their worry for Ramon, or that Fletcher Austin might have already returned to the rancho and discovered her gone. What would she tell him if he had? What lie could she make him believe?
At the top of the hill overlooking the rancho, she traded horses, letting Mariano help her up on Sunflower’s weary back, then she rode off down the hill to the stable, careful to skirt the bunkhouse and praying no one would see her.
Inside the barn, she slipped tiredly down from the mare, wincing at the pain in her twisted ankle. In the thin light streaming in through the window, she began to unsaddle her horse.
“I will do it, senora.”
Carly jumped at the sound of the voice. “Jose! Dear God, you nearly frightened me to death.”
“I am sorry. I did not mean to.” The tall vaquero stepped up beside her and began to loosen the cinch. “Go inside the house,” he said, turning to face her, “and do not worry—I will tell no one that you were gone.”
Carly nervously wet her lips. “Thank you, Jose.” He merely nodded as she slipped outside into the shadows of the barn and made her way quietly back to the house. Candelaria was waiting in Carly’s bedroom when she arrived and quickly began helping her out of her clothes.
So many people to keep silent, and yet she believed they would.
“Hurry, senora. Senor Austin will be home any minute.”
“He said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow,” Carly corrected, thinking of her uncle’s parting words.
“He will be here and soon. One of the men rode on ahead. He said your uncle was wounded in the fighting in San Juan.”
“What!”
“That is what he said. I am afraid I know nothing more.”
“Does the man know I was gone?”
“No. I told him you were sleeping, that I would tell you Senor Austin had been injured and that they were bringing him home.”
“Thank you, Candelaria.”
The girl only shrugged. “We are friends … and you are Don Ramon’s wife.”
Carly said nothing else, just slipped into her night rail and pink satin wrapper then went into her uncle’s bedroom to see that it was prepared.
“Wake Rita,” she told Candelaria. “Have her boil some water and gather whatever supplies we’ll need to tend my uncle’s wounds.”
“Si, senora.”
But surely he wasn’t hurt badly, she thought, trying to imagine her seemingly invincible uncle any other way but issuing orders and bellowing commands. It was Ramon who was critically injured. It was her husband who needed her—and she wasn’t there.