Three
“Don’t worry so, Royal. I’m sure there’s a simple reason for their tardiness. We just couldn’t keep holding dinner, however,” Marilyn said haughtily.
Royal thought twenty minutes a paltry delay, but did not say so. “You’re right, of course. Still, it’ll soon be dark.” He tensed at the sound of a commotion in the front hall. “Ah, maybe they’re here at last.”
He gaped as widely as his guests at the person who finally entered the dining room. That it was neither Patricia nor Justin was all that registered in Royal’s mind. Those two appeared in the doorway an instant later but he was unable to acknowledge them. He only faintly noticed that the ladies at the table were looking terrified and the men were gawking.
The girl wore snug black pants that nicely displayed her gently rounded hips and slim legs. Her black shirt fit equally well over her high, full breasts. Her cornsilk hair was gathered in one thick swatch, tied with a red bandana, and brought forward over her right shoulder to hang in a heavy, glossy wave past her hips. A single holster was at her tiny waist, sloping to her hip, and a knife hilt was visible over the top of her boot, yet, strangely enough, none of it distracted from her femininity. When she reached him, she pushed back her hat which gave him a brief glimpse of purple eyes, grinned as she sat on his lap and began to heartily kiss him.
Startled was not all that Royal felt. He forgot all about the guests seated at his table as her full breasts pressed against his chest, her long fingers stroked his neck, and her honeyed tongue stroked the inside of his mouth. When she pulled away, he finally put purple eyes, black clothes, and cornsilk hair together to make a name.
“Antonie,” he croaked, hoping his guests would think he was dazed with surprise instead of white hot lust.
“Sí, gringo.” She wondered where her breath had gone. “Now we are even, eh?”
“No. I think you’re a notch above me. I didn’t kiss you like that,” he said softly. “What are you doing here?”
“Royal,” hissed Marilyn.
“Oh.” He realized he was still holding Antonie on his lap and set her on her feet before him.
“I brought your sister and brother back, gringo.” Leaning against the table, Antonie nodded toward the door.
His gaze flew to the doorway where Patricia and Justin stood with a matched set of well-armed men and he finally looked closely at his siblings. Patricia was looking wide-eyed and shocked, but Justin was snickering along with the twins. It was that slight sign of camaraderie that lessened the threatening appearance of the well-armed twins. Justin’s battered appearance told Royal that there had been some trouble, however, and, with Cole following suit, he started toward them. Antonie slid into Royal’s seat and surveyed the table.
Patricia gave a small cry and ran to the ready shelter of Royal’s arms. “We were attacked. The hands were killed.”
“Ramirez, the bastard,” roared Henry Collins.
“No,” Antonie said quietly as she helped herself to a piece of pie. “It was Raoul Mendez.”
“Are you sure?” Cole asked as he helped Justin sit down.
“Sí,” Oro replied as he sat on the arm of Antonie’s chair and helped himself to some wine. “There were six of them.”
“Nonsense,” growled Collins. “Mendez doesn’t come to this area. It was that damned Ramirez, I tell you.”
“And I tell you,” snapped Antonie, “that it was Mendez. Ah, por Dios, strawberries.” She stabbed one with her knife and rolled it in the sugar, then popped it into her mouth, giving an ecstatic sigh.
“Ah, folks,” Royal began apologetically after he had found a seat for Patricia, “I think we will have to call it a night.”
He hastily cleared his home of guests. It was hard not to tell Henry just why he trusted Antonie’s word on who the attackers had been. He replied to Marilyn’s somewhat shrill demands about who Antonie was with the same vagueness. It was not only a need to hear what had happened that hurried him, but an eagerness to feast his eyes on the woman Antonie had become.
“Never seen a house emptied so fast,” drawled Cole as Royal strode back into the dining room.
“They’ll find excuses to come by tomorrow, I’ve no doubt.” He collapsed into a chair next to Antonie and sent her a mock glare. “Was it necessary to insult one of my guests?”
“Bah, that pig talks through his,” she paused and grinned, “hat. I know my bandidos, eh, gringo?”
“Without doubt, but I am not about to tell Henry why that is.” He glanced pointedly at the twins.
“Ah, Oro and Tomás Degas. Manuel’s sons.” She giggled when Royal groaned. “Oro has the scar.”
“You said you were attacked?” he asked Patricia, taking her hand in a gentle grasp.
“On the way to San Antonio,” she replied, her voice unsteady as she recalled everything, telling the tale with Justin’s occasional help.
“You weren’t hurt, were you, Pattie?” he asked tensely when she had finished, for the extent of the personal attack upon her was not made clear.
“No, the rabbit is whole,” Antonie replied when Patricia seemed struck speechless. “The bastard died—quickly.”
“Thank you, Antonie. You and your friends must stay the night. Rest before you go back.”
“We are not going back. Not yet. We are here to give you your ranch.”
Royal abruptly raised his brows. “How can you give me something I already have?”
“I put that wrong. I mean we are here to see that you keep what you have. That will clear Juan’s debt. He told me to come here and to see to this matter. I promised him on his deathbed, so here I am, gringo, and here I stay until all is done.”
“Ramirez is dead?” Cole asked.
“Sí.” She fought down a grief she had not really dealt with yet. “It is over.”
“I am sorry for your loss, Antonie,” Royal said quietly.
“Ah, well, he, Julio, and Manuel will give the devil a good run, eh? Now I must clear his debt.”
“There’s no debt, Antonie. You could’ve killed Cole but you didn’t, and now you’ve helped these two. That’s more than enough.”
“No, I told Juan I would come and help save your ranch. This I will do.”
“Save it from what?” He tried to still the erotic images forming in his head as he watched her lick the sugar off her fingers.
“From whom. I do not know. Someone close, Juan said. Raoul is in his pay. He killed your parents and is the one who keeps raiding you. There is to be much trouble for you on this drive you plan. We will be your guns.”
“Where did Juan get his information?” Royal had recently begun to think that his trouble was not all bad luck.
“This I cannot tell you. It was not for me to know. But, if Juan said you are to have trouble, you will have it.”
“Much more trouble and there won’t be any need to worry about the ranch,” grumbled Justin. “We’ll lose it for sure.”
“Exactly,” said Antonie. “That is how the game is played. Enough little cuts and you bleed to death.”
“Colorfully put,” Royal drawled, hastily pouring himself a glass of the wine that Antonie, Tomás, and Oro were drinking so much of. “Just the other day I was thinking that it couldn’t all be rotten luck. We were being hit harder and more often than any of the others. It was as if our every move was known. This drive now. I’ve only talked to a few people about it, but Juan heard of it in Mexico.”
“We’ve known the people around here since we were born. Who the hell could it be?” Cole wondered aloud.
“You must think who would gain most.” Tomás began to finish off the pie.
“Unfortunately, Tomás, that could be any one of our neighbors.” Royal suddenly became aware of the fact that even Patricia and Justin were eating anything that had been left of the desserts. “I gather you haven’t had your supper,” he said dryly.
“No,” Patricia replied and stood up. “I’ll go talk to Maria, shall I? There must be something quick she can get us.”
“Yes, do that, Pattie. Careful, she’s not in the best of tempers.”
“Oh.” Patricia stopped at the door to frown at Royal. “Has Marilyn been here helping?”
“Excessively. We’ll need some rooms readied, too.” Pattie nodded and left, so Royal turned his attention back to Antonie.
“This Marilyn, she was the one sitting next to you?” Royal nodded and Antonie grinned. “She is hot for you, gringo, eh?”
Sending a quelling look at his snickering brothers before replying, Royal said firmly, “She was being neighborly and helping with this affair.”
Antonie made a mocking noise. “If you do not want to marry her, you’d best start running faster, amigo. She has set a claim on you. I see the way she stares when I greet you.”
“The manner of your greeting would make anyone stare.”
“Pretty good, eh? I think of that as we were riding here. Even practiced, eh, Oro?”
“Sí,” Oro replied, “but you never said which one of us was best, querida. You may admit it was Oro. The other two will take it like men.”
Knowing she was being set up for an awkward situation, Antonie smiled slowly and leaned toward Royal, slipping her arm around his neck. “I think maybe it was this gringo. More practice than you or the other two.”
This time Royal was not restrained by surprise. He drank greedily from her strawberry-sweetened mouth. His hands ached to move over her gentle curves, but the sound of the laughing jests of their audience restrained him.
“Por Dios!” Maria cried, abruptly pulling Royal free of the moment of heady passion.
“Oh no, she’s at it again,” Patricia muttered.
Reluctantly releasing her, Royal turned to see Maria and Patricia standing in the doorway. He went to help them with the food they had brought. It was a diversion he needed to get his thoughts out of a decidedly carnal vein. Seeing that Oro had slipped into his chair as soon as he had left it, he sat between Oro and Patricia after a wide-eyed Maria had left.
As the others ate, Royal studied Antonie and the Degas twins. It was hard to evaluate what relationship existed there. That they were close was easy to see, but whether it was as friends or lovers was not. He acknowledged a somewhat furious loathing of the possibility that she was the lover of any man, but did not delve into the why of that.
Cole was right. The girl was certainly something. She was still small, still delicately beautiful, but now she exuded a subtle sensuality and possessed the woman’s body to match it. There was a wildness in her, barely leashed, that called to a man, beckoned to him to test how it would affect her passion. He had sensed some of it in her kiss and was more than eager to savor it fully.
“Have you thought of who is after your land?” Antonie asked Royal, proud of how clearly her wine-tangled tongue had performed.
“No. It’s going to need a great deal of looking into. I don’t want to believe it of any of the ones I know.” He sighed, the thought of someone he called friend betraying him causing more sadness than fury at the moment.
“Ah, well, there is time yet before your drive. It is too bad that Raoul’s man knew nothing, but Raoul knows we watch now,” Oro said coldly, his face briefly setting into harsh lines that made him look far older than his twenty-two years.
While Oro had spoken, Antonie had realized that she had passed her limit of wine. Juan had taught her well and she recognized the signs of impending collapse. With a graceful dignity that belied her inebriated state, she rose and walked to the door.
“I will go to bed now. Buenas noches.”
She made her way carefully up the stairs, meeting Maria and a young maid just coming out of a room. With extreme politeness, she inquired about which room had been allotted to her. Maria timidly directed her and watched wide-eyed as Antonie walked to her bed, lay down, and promptly closed her eyes. Antonie made no reply to the woman’s soft worried inquiries and heard Maria return to her work muttering about what sort of people the patrón was getting mixed up with.
* * *
“Is she all right?” Cole asked a little worriedly, after Antonie’s abrupt departure.
“Sí,” Tomás replied with a grin. “Too much wine.”
“Well, there were those four bottles we drank on the way here,” mused Justin, oblivious to the startled looks of his elder brothers.
“But she doesn’t know what room is hers,” protested Patricia.
“I think Maria’s still up there. She’ll tell her,” Royal said.
“That’s all right, amigo, we’ll see to it,” Oro said as he and Tomás moved to the door. “The chica should at least have the right bed.”
“And to be tucked in, eh?” Tomás added suggestively with a laughing glance toward a shocked Patricia as Oro urged him out of the room. “Must take her guns off, sí, and her boots. Ah, her hat,” he continued irrepressibly as Oro quickly closed the door to cut off his words.
Patricia broke the silence a moment later. “No more. I won’t have it. Not in my house.”
She was out the door before Royal could stop her. He hastily followed, as did Justin, although he needed Cole’s strong arm for some support. Patricia was just storming into Antonie’s room as they reached the top of the stairs and they crowded in the doorway. Oro had just taken off one of Antonie’s boots and Tomás was struggling to remove the holster from her inert body. Royal moved aside when Maria edged her way into the room as quietly as possible.
“Get out! Out!” Patricia yelled, snatching the boot from Oro and pushing him toward the door. “You might not think there’s anything wrong in taking clothes off willy-nilly, but I do, and I won’t have it. Not here. You can’t carry on like that here.”
“Where is our room, eh? We go to bed now, too,” protested Tomás as he followed Oro in a hasty retreat out the door, pushing the Bancroft brothers ahead of him.
“Well it’s not here,” snapped Patricia, getting ready to slam the door.
“Two doors down on the left,” yelled Maria even as the door slammed shut.
“Caramba,” breathed Tomás. “The rabbit turned into the lion, eh?” He started to laugh.
Steering his giggling brother down the hall, Oro drawled, “Time for bed. Buenas noches, señores. Check the chico’s bandages before he sleeps.”
“What bandages?” asked Cole as he and Royal took Justin to his room.
“My ribs got pretty badly bruised,” Justin explained as he sat on his bed. “Antonie wrapped them.”
Royal winced in sympathy as he and Cole undressed Justin and saw the bandaging. The wounds were not dangerous, but they were the sort that could be very uncomfortable. By the time they had him settled, his bruised ribs rewrapped, Royal could see that Justin was in a lot of pain. He hastily got his brother a drink and was pleased to see Justin recover enough to talk for a while.
“Patricia wasn’t badly hurt, was she?” Cole asked quietly, as he sat at the foot of the bed.
“No,” replied Justin. “They ripped her bodice and one of them mauled her a bit, but he got a knife in the back before he could abuse her further. I think the killing bothered her more. The two hands with us, then five more men downed right before her eyes. She’s never seen the rough side before. Then those three stepped out of the dark and weren’t looking much safer than the ones they just killed.” He grinned slightly. “I think Antonie’s calling her ‘the rabbit’ all the time snapped Patricia out of her shock quicker than anything else could have.”
“Strange trio. Can’t figure out what they are to each other,” Royal mused, thinking Justin might have a clue.
“That is hard to figure. They act like brothers and sister, but they sure didn’t kiss her like brothers would. Yet, they thought it funny that she planned to kiss you and when she kissed me. That isn’t a lover’s way. Don’t think so anyway.”
“I’m beginning to feel sorely deprived,” Cole drawled, and the three brothers laughed softly. “What’s all this about taking clothes off?”
“Ah, they went swimming. Stripped down right in front of us save for their underdrawers. Pattie kept her eyes covered which set Antonie and Tomás to laughing. Although, Antonie kept her chest covered which I think she does not usually do. They were just like kids, like we used to be at the swimming hole, not like two men, who probably know three times what I do, swimming with a lovely, half-naked girl. Except for showing more skin than she’s ever seen, they did nothing Pattie could not have looked at.” He looked sharply at Royal. “Antonie said I was to ask you about this debt she keeps talking about.”
Sighing, Royal sat on the edge of the bed and reluctantly repeated the tale. “I’ve kept silent about it for seven years, then suddenly have to tell it twice.” He savored a little of his brandy. “I never expected any payment. I reckon Juan was just waiting for an opportunity.”
“Antonie said it wasn’t Juan pulling the raids on us or who shot our folks,” Justin said after a moment of stunned silence.
“I never really thought it was, Justin. That’s how I thought Juan was repaying me. It was Mendez, right?”
Justin nodded. “That’s what they say, Royal. Still, how can they help us? They must be wanted.”
“Not that I know of,” remarked Cole. “Always stayed out of it, ’cept that once when I got this.”
“She flat-out admitted shooting you.” Justin shook his head. “I couldn’t picture it, even though I think it was Antonie who threw that knife, ’cause she pulled it out of the guy, wiped it off, and slipped it back inside her boot. She’s just so dainty-looking, though.”
“She’s spent eleven years with Ramirez,” Royal pointed out. “He may have kept her out of things, but she’d know how to fight if she had to.”
“I reckon,” agreed Justin. “She talked about how you’d told Juan what to do to make her a lady as we shared a bottle of tequila.” He grinned when his brothers laughed. “Are they right about someone close to us being after our ranch?”
“It’s a very reasonable explanation for our troubles,” Royal answered as he collected the glasses.
“So they’ll be staying around a while then.” Justin could not fully hide a yawn.
“Yes. It ought to be interesting.”
* * *
Antonie could hear voices as if through a thick fog, but did not move as Patricia helped Maria slip a clean white shirt on her. As Maria tugged the sheet over her, Antonie vaguely sensed that she was being studied. She struggled to listen to what was said and hoped she would be able to remember.
“She’s very pretty,” Patricia murmured.
“Sí,” agreed Maria, “but I do not think she is Mexican.”
“No, but she grew up in Mexico, I think. She has the accent and all. Spanish is more her tongue than English.”
“Señorita, why has the patrón let these three stay? They are bandidos. I am sure of this.”
“Perhaps, but they say they owe Royal and they’ve come to help us keep our ranch. I think they are a little wild,” Patricia said with a weak laugh, “but I don’t think that they’re bad really. They were good to Justin and me.”
“There can be good in anyone, but maybe not enough. One dress,” Maria muttered.
“She treats me just like I’m a child,” Patricia said, a little truculently.
“To her I think you are.”
“But she’s only two years older than me,” Patricia argued.
“She has seen and done much more than you, chica. Maybe more than your brothers, eh? This makes her older than her age. Buenas noches.”
“Buenas noches, Maria.”
Hearing the door shut behind the two women, Antonie stopped fighting to stay conscious. She had found out what she wanted to know. Everyone was willing to at least give her and the twins the benefit of the doubt. Only one thing troubled her, and that was the way that Patricia had constantly studied Oro. Antonie felt that that could lead to some real difficulties but, at the moment, she was too drunkenly exhausted to worry about it much.
* * *
In their bedroom, Tomás and Oro settled in for the night. As Tomás turned the covers down on the bed, he looked at Oro with a wide grin on his face.
“Like kings, eh, Oro?” Tomás asked with pleasure in his voice. “I did not expect to be treated as the guest.”
“I think it is Antonie who gets us such good treatment. They cannot put her out with the hands, so we do not go either.”
“Sí, but I am not going to complain. I think there could be trouble with that Royal. He has eyes for the little one.”
“The little one is now twenty, Tomás. It may be time to let her say sí or no.”
“Maybe. That man is not one to take a woman who says no.”
“This is what I think. Still, we will be sure that Antonie knows what her ‘sí’ can mean before we relax our watch on her.”
* * *
Royal stealthily moved away from the door. Cursing softly, he wished that the twins had said more, enough to let him know if they were Antonie’s lovers. He told himself to be content with what he had learned, for they could have talked in Spanish and he would have come away with nothing.
He had felt relief when he had started past their door and heard the murmur of their voices. At least, for now, neither of them was sharing Antonie’s bed. Royal intended to fill the vacant space as quickly as possible. Her kiss had not been all fun, even though inspired by it. Passion had flickered in her lovely eyes and he wanted to turn that flicker into a raging fire, a fire as strong as the one that already burned within him. He hoped fervently that the twins would not convince Antonie to ignore that fire, that they would soon be relaxing their guard as they had implied that they would.
“Something tells me you’re staking a claim,” Cole drawled as he lounged in the doorway to Royal’s room, moving only enough to allow Royal to enter the room.
“Really? What makes you say that?” Royal took off his jacket and started to unbutton his shirt.
“Perhaps it’s the way your mind’s distracted but your body is at attention.” He grinned when Royal laughed. “She could belong to one of the Degas twins. Maybe even both of them.”
“Could, but won’t for long.”
“Maybe a trip to the saloon would be safer.”
“Safer, but not half as enjoyable. Don’t worry, I intend to be persuasive, and I have reason to believe that she’ll be persuadable. I also think that whatever does exist between her and the Degas twins is not ironclad. They watch and protect her, but do not own her.”
Cole shrugged. “You won’t really know until you try, will you? Don’t reckon I can talk you out of trying either, can I?”
“Nope. Antonie’s got the face of a angel and a body that could tempt a saint, and I’m no saint,” he said dryly.
“Just don’t end up being a martyr,” Cole retorted and left with a murmured good night.
As he got into bed, Royal wondered just how much he would be risking by pursuing Antonie. It was something he just had to test, for there was no way to know the true situation between her and the twins without trying. That they were in their own room did not necessarily mean all that much, for Antonie was, after all, useless to a man at the moment. Neither did their apparent lack of possessiveness prove much, for they could be casual lovers, enjoying the passion and not suffering the jealousy.
To see a saloon girl to ease his ache would be safer, but he had only resorted to that type of female when he had been desperate. It was not to his taste to use women any man with the right amount of money had access to. Even Louise’s girls rarely got his business. Sighing, he gave in to sleep knowing that none of those outlets would satisfy him this time. At the moment his body craved Antonie and Antonie alone.