Seven
“It is my turn, Royal.”
Cursing softly, Royal ran his hand through his hair and then looked at Antonie in pure exasperation. “I didn’t know there were turns.”
“Sí, there are, and this one is mine. For my two compadres I want Tomás and Jed Thayer. We will hold the fort, Captain.”
“Take Oro, too. I’d feel better if he’s with you as well if you insist on staying here.”
“Sí, I insist, but you take Oro. One reason we came here was because we know Raoul. He is an old enemy. Oro knows what to watch for.”
Nothing Royal said could change Antonie’s mind about taking a turn at guarding the ranch. He was not so sure he liked her choice of the young, good-looking Jed Thayer either, but limited his jealous reaction to one long glare at his ranch hand. There was really no good reason he could give to stop her from taking her turn. He had hired her and the Degas twins together as extra guns. He had not expected her to take the job so seriously. Giving her a brief, slightly angry kiss, he decided to give up arguing and get to work.
“She’s quite capable of doing the job and doing it well,” Cole said as he rode up beside Royal.
“I know that.”
“Hell, she’s safer at the ranch than out here with us.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Lots more places to take cover if there’s trouble.”
“True.” Royal sighed and shook his head. “I just wish I could shake the feeling that there’ll be trouble.”
* * *
Antonie settled herself on the veranda rail, her back up against a post. So far, standing guard at the ranch had involved nothing more than being a chaperone for Patricia. This was the third beau to come calling on the girl and Antonie wondered a little crossly if Patricia had sent out some signal that drew all the aspirants to her hand like bees to clover.
Glancing at the young man seated at Patricia’s side on the porch swing, Antonie inwardly grimaced. If that sweaty boy was the best the area had to offer, it was no surprise that Patricia was drawn to Oro. So far Antonie had not seen one of Patricia’s beaus who was a quarter of the man that Oro was. Antonie feared that her hope that some young man from the area would deter Patricia from Oro was an empty one.
“Poor Hudson,” Patricia said gently as she watched the young man ride away, “will never find a wife.”
Moving to stand next to Patricia, Antonie asked, “Why do you say that?”
“He’s terrified of girls. He sweats and stutters when he just passes a moment’s idle conversation with a girl. I think he’d just keel over in an incoherent puddle if he even thought of making a proposal.” She joined Antonie in laughing quietly.
It was after lunch that the fourth courting young man rode up to the ranch. As she watched the man’s approach through the parlor window, Antonie sighed. She wondered if the young men in the area did any work. Antonie decided to return to her chaperoning when she had finished her coffee and not before. She moved away from the window.
“Señorita? Another young man has come.”
Smiling at Maria, Antonie nodded. “I saw him. I’ll go out in a moment.”
“Do not leave it too long, eh?”
“Is this one not a gentleman then?”
“I have never seen him misbehave but,” Maria shrugged, “I have this feeling about him, eh? I don’t trust him.”
“I’ll get out there, Maria.”
After the woman left, Antonie sighed and hurriedly finished her coffee. While Maria tended to worry too much about Patricia, Antonie did not want to ignore the woman’s qualms. She did wish, however, that she had known how much of her time would be taken up with watching Patricia before she had insisted on taking her turn at standing guard at the ranch. The roundup was hot, exhausting, and dirty work, but it was not boring like this. Antonie was beginning to feel like a nursemaid.
She strode out onto the veranda and, after brief introductions were made, sat down on the top step. Sitting sideways, her back against the rail post, she was able to survey the horizon for danger as well as the young couple on the swing. Taking out a small pouch of tobacco and some papers, Antonie started to practice rolling a cigarette. She really had no inclination to smoke one but, after watching several hands roll one with apparent ease, she was curious as to how it was done.
“Antonie, you aren’t taking up smoking, are you?” Patricia asked.
Peeking at Patricia’s shocked face, Antonie almost smiled. “No. I think not. I am just trying to roll one. It is not easy, eh?”
“Oh. Why?”
“Why not, chica?”
Even in that brief moment of looking directly at Patricia and her beau, Antonie decided that Maria was right to fret. The young man had looked at her with an expression in his eyes that Juan would have shot him for. Considering that he was sweet-talking Patricia at the time with a possible eye toward marriage, Antonie decided that was reason enough not to trust him. There was also the very good chance that he had only the seduction of a naive girl in mind.
Within a few moments, Antonie saw that her growing suspicions were justified. Young Clem Tillis clearly thought her too involved in her attempts to roll a cigarette to notice how often his hands roamed over Patricia. It took Antonie another moment to see that Patricia was not calling for help or protesting because the girl was either too embarrassed or too frightened. The look on the girl’s pale face was certainly not passion nor even reckless daring. Slowly, Antonie turned to face the couple.
“Move those hands, Señor Tillis.”
“It’s just a little cuddling, ma’am. Nothing to get all fired up over.” His last words ended on a squeak when he suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of Antonie’s gun.
“Move the hands, gringo, or I shoot you. Simple, eh?”
“Yeah, yeah, simple.” He edged away from Patricia but then looked at the girl. “Now, Pattie, tell her it was nothing, hmm?”
Patricia opened her mouth to speak just as a shot rang out. Clem Tillis squealed and held his hands up. He lost all of his cockiness in an instant.
“Damnation! No need to shoot. I stopped touching her.”
Moving with a swift grace, Antonie yanked Patricia off the swing and pushed the girl down onto the floor of the veranda. “I did not shoot at you, gringo. They did.” Peering over the veranda rail, Antonie indicated the large group of armed men riding straight for the ranch. “I think it is not safe in that seat now, Señor Tillis.”
Throwing himself to the floor, Tillis made no move to draw his gun. “What the hell’s going on around here?”
“Antonie? You all right?” Tomás shouted from his perch on the roof.
“Sí, Tomás.” She neatly took down two men, briefly curbing the attackers’ advance.
The front door was flung open and for one dangerous instant, a frantic Maria was framed in the doorway. Antonie was surprised at how fast the plump woman prostrated herself when bullets shattered the door frame. From within the house came Rosa’s screams of fright.
“Patricia?” Maria called.
“She is all right, Maria,” Antonie yelled in reply as she pinned down the attackers who were now seeking cover. “Get out of the way, for we will be coming through in a minute.”
“But it’s open between here and the door,” squeaked Tillis.
“That is all right, Señor Tillis. Patricia will be safe, for I will keep this scum pinned down and you will be her cover.”
“Now, wait just a damned minute . . .”
“Señor Tillis, you will do that and take a chance at being shot, or you may stay here and be certain that I will shoot you.”
“But, Antonie, what about you?” Patricia asked in a trembling voice.
“I will be all right, Patricia. I will be right behind you. Tomás is on the roof and will cover me.” Beginning a steady and deadly cover fire, Antonie hissed, “Go now.”
Antonie almost smiled when Tillis scooped up Patricia and keeping her sheltered, bolted for the door. He had clearly believed her threat, for he nearly hurled himself into the house. Considering the roughness of the rescue, Antonie was not sure Patricia would be too grateful. Very carefully, Antonie edged closer to her goal, readying herself to follow the couple into the house. She just hoped that going inside would really be safer.
“Tomás,” she yelled. “I am ready.”
After one last emptying of her pistol to aid Tomás in keeping the attackers pinned down, she raced for the door. It was not only the cries of the attackers that told her a few had dared to break their cover. Several shots came too close, so close she felt them pass. One even tore through her shirtsleeve as she slammed the door shut.
Maria, a weeping Rosa, a pale Patricia, and a clearly terrified Clem Tillis hovered in the parlor. It was certainly a pathetic little army, Antonie thought wryly as she moved to the window. When she smashed a window, all three squealed and she almost laughed. She forced herself to be stern, however, for she could not afford to let them be useless. They were all she had. With them she was going to have to form an adequate defense of the house that would cover all angles of attack.
“Where are Jed and Old Pete?” she demanded even as she concentrated on keeping their enemies from getting too near the house.
“Pete is across the hall and Jed is upstairs,” replied Maria.
“Good, good. Now, get me guns and ammunition. All there is in the house. And shut that Rosa up.”
It took a few minutes but Maria finally got Rosa to calm down a little. Then, with the terrified girl in tow, she left to get the weapons and ammunition Antonie had asked for. Antonie noticed that Clem Tillis was firmly settled behind a very solid chair and showing no inclination to lend a hand. She was going to enjoy changing his mind.
When Maria and Rosa had collected all the weapons in the house, Antonie was impressed. The Bancrofts had collected enough to supply a small army. Antonie just wished she had the small army to use them.
“Who can handle a gun?” she demanded as she helped herself to a substantial supply of ammunition.
“I am not very good but I can use a rifle,” Maria answered. “Patricia can shoot, but Rosa, she has never learned.”
Nodding, Antonie silently indicated that they should choose their weapons, then looked at Clem. “And you, señor?”
“Hell, this ain’t my fight. I’m not risking my neck.”
“Sí, you are.” She calmly pointed her gun at him. “You shoot them or I shoot you.”
“And how can you explain that to my folks?”
“You died in the battle. So tragic.” Although he looked suitably unnerved, he made no move to pick out a weapon or use his own. She coolly shot away the cigar he was just lighting up in a show of bravado that did not fool her at all. “You will choose a weapon.”
“All right, all right. I can use a rifle better’n I can a pistol,” he said, his voice a wavering falsetto.
“Patricia, you will go to one of the bedrooms and Maria will go to another. I want all sides watched. We do not want any of these dogs to encircle us. You, Señor Tillis, will watch the back of the house. Rosa, if there is a blind spot, you are to watch it, eh? You cannot shoot, but you can watch and call for aid if any of these dogs appear. Carry enough ammunition to take to Jed and Old Pete. They must need some by now. And, Rosa, you are to help anyone who is hit.”
Once the others were gone, Antonie returned her full attention back to the men outside. They were being cautious, exposing themselves to the deadly fire from the house as little as possible. That meant that they had accomplished little and Antonie wondered if, due to the standoff, they would soon give up. If it did not come to that, then it would be a matter of who ran out of ammunition first, if the attackers managed to make a successful run on the house or if the men with the herd came back. It worked out to be about a fifty-fifty chance of winning. As Antonie continued to try and convince the men outside that it would be far too risky to rush the house, she decided to pray for the men to come in from the range. It was the best option she could hope for, the one that would bring about the quickest resolution to the trouble.
* * *
Royal frowned as he watched Justin race toward him pushing his horse at a reckless speed. He had heard no shots and seen nothing. In fact, everything had been progressing with a gratifying smoothness. By the look of things, they could head out on the drive by the end of the next week. He did not really want to hear that something had gone wrong, but he had the sinking feeling that that was just what he was about to hear.
“Is there a reason for nearly killing that horse?” he asked with a false calm when Justin finally reached him.
“There’re shots coming from the ranch, Royal,” Justin stuttered, gasping for breath.
“Shots? One? Two? How’s it sound?” he demanded tersely even as he fired off three shots, the signal for trouble that would bring all his men to his side.
“It sounds like there’s a damn war going on.”
When his men were gathered, Royal led them at a steady ground-eating pace toward the ranch. It took nearly all of his willpower to rein in just out of sight of the house. The sound of heavy gunfire had him aching to charge right in, afraid for Antonie and the others, but he knew such a rash act could cost him men. He sent Cole ahead to see exactly what the situation was so that they could plan an approach that would gain them the advantage.
“It looks pretty cut and dried, Royal,” Cole reported when he returned. “There’s about twenty men besieging the place, but our people are in the house and have them pinned down. By the looks of it, our side’s winning.”
“The best way to handle it?”
“Straight in and shooting, Royal. The bandidos are square between us and the house. We’ll be coming in behind them.”
Smiling grimly at this good news, Royal gave the signal to charge.
* * *
“Señorita! Señorita!”
“Stay down, Rosa,” Antonie hissed as the girl raced toward her. “Are they getting around us?”
“No, I see no one, but I did see one of Señor Royal’s men. On the rise. The men are coming to save us.”
“Tell everyone, Rosa. We do not want any of our own men shot by us. And keep your head down.”
When Royal and his men charged, Antonie simply watched. There was no hope for the ruffians outside. They scattered like frightened fowl before the onslaught. Not many got away, falling victim to the hail of bullets now raining on them from two sides. Even as the shooting sputtered to a halt, the other defenders of the house gathered in the parlor.
Briefly Antonie felt piqued when Royal and his brothers entered. Royal looked to the welfare of Patricia and Maria first. However, Antonie felt soothed when she saw how his gaze sought her out immediately and never left her as he gathered assurances that everyone was unharmed, only a few nicks and bruises. She was able to stay seated by the window and wait for him to come to her.
“Are you all right, Antonie?” he asked quietly as he crouched before her.
“Sí. Not a scratch.”
He touched the place where the bullet had torn her shirtsleeve. “This was damned close.”
“But not close enough, eh?” She picked up her hat and wriggled her finger in a fresh bullet hole in the crown. “Same here.”
Clutching her tightly by the arms, his blood chilled by the evidence of such a close call, he rasped, “That’s not funny.”
“I know. I did not laugh, querido.” She smiled faintly. “It was my favorite hat.” When El Magnifico scrambled to her side, she laughed softly and scratched his ears. “Such a brave one. He hid beneath the settee.”
“If there had been room, Clem would have joined him there,” Patricia sneered.
“Here now, that ain’t fair. I did my part.”
“Only after Toni threatened to shoot you.”
“There’s gratitude for you. I don’t have to stay here and take this.” He strode out of the room, a chiding Patricia at his heels.
“Did you really threaten to shoot him?” Royal asked as he helped Antonie to her feet and led her to the settee.
“Sí. Gracias, Maria,” she murmured as she accepted the glass of brandy the woman served her. “It made him obedient.”
“I reckon it would. Raoul’s men?” he asked, looking to both Tomás and Antonie for an answer.
Tomás shrugged. “Could have been. I recognized no one. Maybe just some hired dogs.”
Rising slowly from his seat, Royal said wearily, “We’ll deliver the bodies and the prisoners to the sheriff. Maybe we’ll be lucky and he’ll come up with an answer or two.”
Shortly after Royal left, Antonie began to feel weary, but she struggled to overcome it. She doubted that there would be any more trouble for a while, but did not want to ease her guard. However, as soon as all the hands were back at the ranch for the night, she readily relinquished her position. After a light supper, she had a quick hot bath and speedily sought her bed, not rousing again until Royal eased into her bed and gently pulled her into his arms.
“I am not easing your troubles, querido,” she said softly, annoyed at what she saw as her failure to protect Royal and his ranch from being raided.
“Nonsense. We were losing before you came.”
“We are not winning now.”
“Maybe not, but we’re holding our own and it’s costing them.”
“Sí, it is costing them. The word will be put out that we are not easy prey. What happened here today will be told. Whoever sent these men will begin to find it hard to hire others. I say hard, but not impossible.”
“No, not impossible. I am not fool enough to think this will end it. The only way to stop all this is to get the one behind it, and I haven’t a clue to who that is.”
“The sheriff knew nothing? Found nothing?”
“Nothing. Couldn’t get anything from the prisoners either. Really don’t think they know. Asking around town only told us that some of them had been seen in the saloon or the whorehouse. The usual places one goes to hire such scum.”
“That is where they go,” she agreed. “I would look for such men there. Men who do not know who or why, just how much, eh?”
“I can’t quite figure out why they’d hit the ranch,” Royal muttered. “Why not go for the men spread out on the range?”
“Because you are too spread out. That would take time. Maybe you would hear a shot. Then they must face many armed men. True, you’d be out in the open, but so would they. Here, they knew there were only few, and mostly women. I am thinking they planned to kill us all, maybe burn you out. You come back to the dead and the ruin and maybe that is enough. You decide this land is worth no more dying, no more grief and you leave. It would work, sí?”
“Sí. Enough. More than enough. I was afraid that that was just what I was going to find. I was afraid for you.”
“That is nice,” she said slowly.
“Yes. Nice. But? I can hear the but, Antonie.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know. I came tearing in here, afraid for you, and you have handled it all unafraid.”
“No. Not unafraid. I was afraid and I do not like the killing. I feel sick and I sweat.”
“It doesn’t show.”
“No. Juan taught me to put it all inside until the danger is past, until the battle is over. He told me I can cry later, be sick later, grieve later, shake later. It will all be there, he said, and it is. He taught me to hold it back. It is the only way to survive. Some fear is okay, eh? It keeps you from being reckless. Too much fear and you panic, you make a mistake that gets you killed.”
“That’s what our officers always said. Only a fool is unafraid but a wise man controls his fear. Juan would have made a great general, I think.”
“Sí. He was, in a way.”
“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t be afraid for you.”
Struggling to keep her mind on the conversation as he began to seductively move his hands over her skin, she clarified, “I was saying you do not need to be afraid, but I think I like it that you can be. Sí, it is very nice.”
Unbuttoning the shirt she wore as a nightgown, Royal decided he was tired of thinking of and discussing his many troubles. “I think I can manage one or two other nice things.”
Craving the escape from the world that his lovemaking offered, Antonie slid her arms around his neck and urged his lips toward hers. “Ah, querido, I think maybe you can, too.”