Six
The cold water made Antonie shiver but she worked the pump handle once more, sending another burst of water cascading over her head. Standing up, she used her bandana to dry her face but let her hair stay dripping wet, the trickles of water from it cooling her a little more. Rounding up the cattle for the drive was hot, exhausting work, but as she leaned against the pump and saw Patricia sitting on the veranda, Antonie decided she preferred it to being idle. Patricia could do the work but was not allowed to unless the ranch was desperate for hands. Yet again Antonie mused that being a proper lady had a lot of drawbacks.
“Toni, I have some cool lemonade here if you wish some,” Patricia called.
“That would be nice,” Antonie called back as she moved to join Patricia on the veranda.
“I expect the others will be along soon,” Patricia said as she handed Antonie a glass of lemonade and sat down again.
“Sí. They will be.” Antonie savored the cool drink before adding, “Royal thought I looked too warm so he sent me back here.”
Antonie knew that the girl studied her but pretended not to notice. It was no secret that she and Royal were lovers, yet Patricia had thus far said nothing. However, Antonie had sensed a curiosity in the girl from the start. She had the feeling that the curiosity had grown to a strength that would soon overpower her extreme good manners.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before,” Patricia suddenly burst out.
“Like me? How like me?”
Patricia blushed. “Well, I mean a woman who has a . . . a lover.”
Laughing softly, Antonie shook her head. “Sí. You have. You just do not know it, either because it is kept quiet or they work to hide it from girls like you. It is a thing that is often hidden, but it is there.”
“Oh. I just don’t understand. I mean, well, this is really none of my business, but don’t you want a husband? Is that why you take lovers instead?”
“Lover, not lovers. Only one. Only Royal.”
“You mean, you were . . . you never . . . oh, dear, I’m stumbling. You were . . . ?”
“A virgin. Sí. I weighed it in my head for a week before I decided I would be foolish to turn away from him. I do not think I can explain it so that you can understand.”
“I am not a child.”
“No, but you are different. You are taught things I never learned. I think you see the world with different eyes. Ah, chica, sometimes there is a fire between a man and a woman, a fire so hot it burns away morals and sense.”
“Is that what you have with Royal?”
“Sí. I know of men and women. These truths were not hidden from me as they are from you. I knew I had found something rare. Perhaps I am weak, for I succumbed to the strength of it. I did not want to return to Mexico without tasting it. The virginity you have been taught to cling to so tightly is maybe not so important to me, eh? I have no fear of living without a man. I do not like the thought of growing old alone without children, but I do not fear it. If being Royal’s lover now means no man will want me for his wife, then I am thinking there is no man worthy.”
“It would seem that they should understand,” Patricia said quietly. “Then again, it seems that they don’t.”
Antonie shrugged. “It requires a man who can understand that a woman has the same feelings as a man and that she is not a puta because she does. Maybe there are not many of them. It is also pride, I think. They do not like to know that another has touched what is theirs. Ah, here come the others. I hope you have a lot of this lemonade, chica.”
The Bancrofts, Oro, and Tomás soon joined them on the veranda. Antonie saw that Maria took care of the hands while Patricia served the ones on the veranda. She laughed when Royal leaned up against the railing and drew her toward him, for his hair still dripped from his rinse under the pump. He shook it off like a dog, sprinkling her as he backed her up against him, then draped his arm around her shoulder.
As they discussed what remained to be done, Antonie noticed something she heartily wished she could have ignored. The interest Patricia had shown in Oro had not faded. It had clearly intensified. A fleeting look at the Bancrofts’ faces told Antonie that the brothers had so far failed to notice how their sister studied Oro, the look in the girl’s eyes when she did, and the way Patricia constantly maneuvered herself close to Oro. She wondered how long their ignorance would continue.
A close study of Oro’s face only added to Antonie’s worry. He was not immune to the young girl. Antonie could almost feel the tension in him as Patricia constantly moved near him, sorely tempting him. Oro had always been able to turn casually away from the ladies if he felt it necessary or in his best interest to do so. More often, he simply did not notice that a lady was interested. The fact that he was not doing either now was, in Antonie’s mind, very dangerous indeed. It could well mean that the fire Oro had said he had never felt was now licking at his heels.
An abrupt departure by Oro only confirmed her suspicions. Antonie tried to hide her concern. She did not want any awkward questions asked or cause any one of the Bancroft brothers to look more closely at the way Patricia acted around Oro. Somehow she was going to have to find time to talk to Oro, to try and find out just how bad things were.
“Come on,” Royal said as he urged Antonie toward the door. “I need a bath.”
“Need help, do you?”
“Well,” he drawled softly, “I was hoping you’d offer to scrub my back and then I would scrub yours. It’d be easier to do that if we bathe together, and think of the water we’d save.”
Her thoughts, inspired by his invitation, had little to do with saving water. “And all the extra work we’ll save Rosa and Maria.”
“Royal.”
The curse that hissed through Royal’s teeth almost made Antonie smile. It did at least ease her annoyance with Marilyn’s ill-timed arrival, for Royal was so clearly not delighted by the woman’s visit, visits that were far too regular, Antonie mused crossly as she went into the house.
The woman thinks to keep Royal tied to her by constantly presenting herself, Antonie silently grumbled to herself as she went to her room and prepared for her solitary bath.
“That woman is here again,” muttered Maria as she and the young Rosa brought in Antonie’s bathwater.
Antonie bit back a laugh, for Maria never hid her dislike for Marilyn. “Perhaps she has some important news to tell.”
“Humph. She is just trying to make sure she does not lose her place.”
“Oh, I don’t think she needs to worry about that,” Antonie said quietly as Rosa and Maria started to leave. “She has only been set aside for a little while.”
“Is that what you think, señorita? We will see. Come, Rosa, there is more water to heat.”
Although it was tempting to think Maria’s opinion was reason to hope, Antonie resolutely fought it. Maria hated Marilyn and would be pleased to see any other woman become Royal’s wife. It was simply wishful thinking, Maria reading more into a temporary love affair than there was. Royal’s attitude could have easily aided Maria in that self-deception.
Slipping into the steaming water with a sigh of pleasure, Antonie smiled crookedly as she thought of Royal. Although they did not officially share the same room, Antonie never slept alone whether she slept in her own bed or his. He was openly friendly and affectionate and he liked her. Even Antonie had no doubts about that. Their relationship was not based solely upon lust, something everyone could see. But sometimes Antonie wished it was, then everything would be much simpler.
Grimacing, Antonie began to scrub herself clean, holding her breath and ducking beneath the water to rinse out her soapy hair. If Royal simply lusted for her, she would find it easier to quell her own errant hopes. Then she would know exactly where she stood, what he wanted from her and what he felt for her. Now she was too often confused, torn equally between hope and common sense, reading things into his every word or action and trying very hard not to.
Cursing herself for being an idiot did no good at all. Despite her best efforts, despite all her common sense, her heart was irrevocably involved. What should have remained an affair of the body had now become an affair of the heart, even if only on her part. That organ continually contracted and twisted every time Marilyn drew Royal’s attention.
“Well, maybe he’ll think twice next time,” she muttered as she stepped out of the tub and started to dry off, “when he recalls how he missed some fun in the bath because he answered Marilyn’s squawk.”
Once dressed, she felt restless. Glimpsing Royal and Marilyn still on the veranda, Marilyn clinging to Royal’s arm, Antonie decided to go out the back door. She had barely gone a few yards when she saw Oro and Patricia. Only briefly did she think about leaving them alone in what appeared to be an awkward moment. She wanted to know just how bad the situation was and if there was anything she could do to sort things out. Staying in the shadow of the house, she listened and felt her heart sink as all of her worst suspicions were confirmed.
“I just wanted to talk, Oro,” Patricia said weakly.
“No, you did not.” He yanked her into his arms. “This is what you want. This is why you haunt me, chica.”
Antonie winced as Oro roughly kissed Patricia. He was not making any effort to be gentle, seductive, or charming and that was not at all like Oro. He was clearly trying to drive the girl away, and Antonie had the chilling feeling it was because he ached to pull the girl close and hold on tightly.
“Oro, you don’t understand,” Patricia said, tears choking her as he pushed her away.
“Sí. I understand. I am different, eh? Well, I am not that different, chica. If you keep inviting me, I will grab what you offer, use you, and throw you aside as quickly as any Anglo. Stay with your flower-toting muchachos, chica, and leave me alone,” he hissed even as he mounted the horse he had been leading. “You are not worth being shot for.”
Quietly approaching the sniffling girl as Oro rode toward town, Antonie sympathized with Patricia’s hurt. Oro’s words had been cruel. Her sympathy, however, was severely constrained by annoyance. Patricia was dragging them all into a dangerous predicament.
“He is right, chica,” she said quietly and smiled gently when Patricia faced her, blushing deeply.
“You were spying on us?”
“Not spying. Only watching. I saw how things were, guessed what was happening, and wished to see how bad it was.”
“You mean how shamelessly I was chasing him, don’t you?” Patricia snapped, self-disgust tainting her voice.
“Perhaps. Whether it is shameless or not, you must stop.”
“Why? Because you want him?”
“I only want to hold one lover at a time,” Antonie answered, recognizing the jealousy Patricia felt. “You will cease to tease him so, chica.”
“And just who are you to tell me that?”
“His friend and, I am hoping, yours. Oh, you look at Oro a lot, but you do not see very clearly. He is Mexican, chica, Mexican and Yaqui. Some Anglo, too, but not enough for anyone to see it. Even many Mexicans would shun him.”
“No one shuns him here.”
“No, because we all fight for the same thing. He is a comrade-in-arms, eh? They do not treat him too badly in town for he works for Royal Bancroft. They do not forget what he is, though, but I think you do. You close your eyes to it.”
“It doesn’t matter where he’s from or what blood flows in his veins. Oro is a man first. People see that.”
“If you think that, you are a fool. If someone said that to you, chances are that he is a liar. Fine sentiments, but few follow them, especially if that man looks at someone’s sister or daughter. Then they see Mexican or Indian or, worse in some eyes, a half-breed. Then they don’t care if they called him friend, drank with him, or even if they owe him their life. They see only a Mexican, daring to look at a white woman. So, they shoot him or hang him or, if he is lucky, they only beat him badly. This is what you want to happen?”
“No! It won’t,” Patricia said but her denial lacked strength. “My brothers aren’t like that.”
“Have they ever been tested? Have you ever walked out with a Mexican or a half-breed before?”
“Well, no, but—well, Royal is your lover. There, that shows it.”
“It shows nothing. I am not Mexican or Indian nor even a little of each. My blood is Anglo. German, to be exact. I am also only his lover. That is acceptable to people. In truth, I sometimes think they expect it, because of what I am and where I come from. I make no secret of where and with whom I was raised. Even the sheriff knows.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I think sometimes that they do not always see me as a woman. I am one they cannot understand. I act like a man but look like a woman. This confuses them. I speak like a Mexican, but look like an Anglo. I do not fit any of their little niches, so I think they do not hold me to their rules. Since the women do not have anything to do with me and Royal keeps the men away, I am not a worry either.
“However, you and Oro?” Antonie shook her head. “No. That will not do. Even if you are willing, that is no matter. One like Oro is not to touch an Anglo. That is a rule, and one no one hereabouts will allow to be broken. If you keep after Oro and he weakens, he could well sign his own death warrant. You do not play at being his love but his executioner.”
With a convulsive sob, Patricia dashed into the house. Antonie sighed, feeling the villain for a moment. She did not really want to hurt the girl, but she also preferred Oro in one piece.
“Do you think she understood?” a deep voice asked in Spanish.
Gasping in surprise, Antonie whirled to find Tomás behind her. “Just how much of it did you hear?”
Tomás shrugged. “Most of it. I saw how Oro ran off to town and thought to speak to her myself.”
“You figured that it had to be Patricia who sent him scurrying away.”
“Yes. It has been so for a while now. She presses and he runs. He goes to the saloon, but he is not having a good time.”
“No. He is hiding. I do not know if she understood what I was saying or if she believes it. It is hard to say because I am not sure of what she is feeling. Is it infatuation, or is it more? Maybe she is just fascinated by Oro because he is different, perhaps even because she knows people will not approve. I wonder if she is more dangerous because she does not understand herself, what she is or is not feeling. Oro’s words hurt her, but it could be just a surface wound, eh? A little scratch that will quickly heal.”
“What she could cause Oro would be no scratch, chica, and I am afraid it would never heal.”
“It is that bad?” she asked softly, knowing he did not refer to the bodily wounds the bigots could inflict.
“It is that bad. I suppose we cannot just leave this place and the trouble she could bring?”
Antonie sighed and shook her head. “I must stay. I promised Juan. You and Oro did not. You may leave.”
“Not without you, chica. Could you speak to Royal?”
“Perhaps, but I think I will wait. He does not see it. His brothers do not either. To mention this now could start trouble that could well be avoided. This may be the end of it. Oro was cruel, I was harsh, and she has to know where he has gone.”
“It may do it. I, too, would like to see trouble avoided. I also want to stay here, for I wish to see an end to Raoul.”
Nodding, Antonie smiled crookedly and asked, “Is Señorita Collins gone yet?”
Tomás laughed. “The talk of trouble makes you think of her, does it? She left a few minutes ago.”
“I think I should shoot that woman. It seems it will be the only way to make her go away and be quiet,” Antonie grumbled as she started toward the house. “Take care of Oro, Tomás. I think he is in a mood to get into trouble.”
“I am headed after him now,” Tomás called as he strode toward the stables.
As she made her way up to her room, Antonie hoped that the uncomfortable confrontation with Patricia meant an end to the problem. If Patricia and Oro were meant to be together, she would like them to be, would like to help them instead of standing between them, but she could not ignore the ugly facts. While the Bancrofts did not seem to hold any prejudices, they had not been really tested. She did not want Oro to be the one to see just how far their tolerance would stretch.
Oro would be a good man for Patricia. He would work hard to give her a good and happy life. Although his father had been a bandido, Oro had not been dragged into that way of life. As Juan had, Manuel had recognized that the life of a bandido was not a good one and it was often very short. He had worked hard to convince his sons not to follow in his footsteps, but to try for something better. Oro could probably find that something better with Patricia.
But no one will let him, Antonie thought sadly. The moment Oro and Patricia became any more than the boss’s sister and a temporary hand, prejudices would boil to the surface. The fact that Patricia was the only daughter of a prominent family would only exacerbate the problem. Antonie did not know if Patricia could understand that, for she doubted that the girl had ever really seen prejudice in all its murderous ugliness. Considering the fact that Oro could be in the middle of it all, it was a thing Antonie hoped the girl would remain blissfully ignorant of.
Pausing by Royal’s door, Antonie smiled as she heard the sound of splashing water. Quietly she entered the room and her smile grew when she saw the look of annoyance on his face. Marilyn’s visit had plainly not put him in the best of moods.
“You are not pleased to get the dust off, querido?” she asked softly as she went to sit on his bed.
Royal started slightly, then looked at her, his eyes narrowing. Although he understood Marilyn’s game, knew she felt her position in his life was threatened, it annoyed him. He had never said anything to make Marilyn think she had any position in his life greater than that of friend or neighbor. He supposed he ought to worry that he was hurting her feelings or even take some vain satisfaction in the hint of jealousy she revealed, but he only wished she would stop pestering him.
He suspected he ought to review those feelings far more closely. It certainly seemed that he would make a drastic mistake in marrying Marilyn, in succumbing to subtle outside pressures and expectations to do so. Royal admitted that he often found himself wishing that Marilyn would see that and discreetly fade away.
“I see you’ve already washed yours off,” he grumbled as he searched for the soap.
“I was ready and the water was ready. I scrubbed my own back. What did Marilyn want?”
To interrupt things, Royal groused but only in his mind. Aloud, he answered, “She was curious about the drive. I reckon her father is contemplating one. It’s a long hard trek and some people still wonder if it’s worth it. It’s still too new.”
“It will be many months, eh?”
“Depending on luck and how hard we can push the herd without killing them—up to three months, maybe more.”
“Do you think it is wise to leave the ranch for so long?”
Shrugging, Royal replied, “We won’t be here and I think we’re the ones this person’s after, the ones he wants to get rid of.”
“And he will have many months on the trail to do that.”
“ ’Fraid so. I’m hoping that Raoul’s men are all he was able to hire, and that they won’t want to move so far away from the border.”
“That is possible. Of course, the farther away from the border they get, the less they are known, eh?”
“You’re supposed to ease my worries, not add to them.”
“That is my job, is it, querido?” she asked with a little smile.
“Uh-huh. That and,” he looked at her, lifting his brows slightly as he held out the soap, “scrubbing my back.”
She laughed and, rolling up her sleeves, moved to the side of the tub he was sprawled in. Even though his modesty was partly maintained by the soapy water, there was enough of his lean muscular body in sight to warm her blood. Antonie was more than willing to touch him. She liked his body and felt no need to hide that fact.
When playfulness grew into passion, Antonie did nothing to stop it, although she got very wet. He had touched off the wanting in her with his playful but sensual suggestion just before Marilyn had arrived, and she was more than ready to satisfy it. She also craved the forgetfulness passion created. They were surrounded by troubles, a threat or danger around every corner, and she wanted to ignore all that for a little while, to revel in the temporary euphoria of passion. It was a goal that Royal proved very willing to help her reach.