Bed of Roses (38 page)

“They’ve saved the day, Zafiro,” Sawyer corrected her. “Yes. They have saved the day! Roses are growing everywhere now!”

Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Everything’s coming up roses.”

“That is what I meant to say, Sawyer.”

“Of course.” He smiled into her eyes.

Their happy and obviously affectionate exchange effectively eased the Reverend Mother’s earlier misgivings concerning the stolen money. Sawyer was providing for Zafiro and her people the only way he knew how.

And Zafiro was in love with Sawyer. The Reverend Mother knew.

She prayed that Zafiro would not be hurt. Sawyer would leave one day. He would have to.

When that day came, what would become of Zafiro?

“Reverend Mother?” Zafiro asked. “Is something wrong?”

The Reverend Mother shook her head, but prayers for Zafiro still lingered in her heart. “Sawyer, with the money you gave us we also bought food and other supplies for the convent,” she announced, tilting her chin up. “We knew you would want us to do so.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Of course, Reverend Mother. Of course.”

“Your brothers and your sister, Sawyer,” Sister Carmelita began. “They will be fine where they are while you are here to help Zafiro?”

The nun’s query quickly sobered Sawyer. “As I told you, Sister, I left them with good people,” he answered softly, then ran his fingers through his hair. “Mr. and Mrs. Ames won’t let anything happen to them. I… It’s just that I hope the money I left with them hasn’t run out. No one in Synner would let the kids go hungry, but I don’t like thinking of them as charity cases. And… Well, I don’t like them thinking I’m dead either.”

The Reverend Mother rose from her chair and laid her palm on Sawyer’s chest. “But you are helping Zafiro, my son. The good Lord above knows this. You must have faith that He is repaying your goodness by watching over your brothers and your sister. He does not let any good deed go unrewarded.”

Although Sawyer had never been overly religious, he found that the Reverend Mother’s words did, indeed, give him solace and hope. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“And we can send the children a letter for you, Sawyer,” Sister Inez offered. “The mail, it is very slow and unreliable, but we could try.”

“I’ll write it tonight, Sister,” Sawyer replied, thinking her suggestion a very good one. “For now, though, let’s start polishing up some shooting skills.”

Maclovio and Pedro both reached for pistols, anxious to return to their past selves. Zafiro picked one up as well.

Sawyer took it away from her and gave it to Lorenzo. “No, Zafiro. Not you.”

“But why? I can learn to shoot—”

“I don’t even want you around when Luis shows up,” Sawyer stated firmly. “In fact, I already know where I’m going to send you when he comes. You, Tia, and Azucar are going to hide in the cave where I found Maclovio’s still. Only a pack of bloodhounds could find you there. And besides, I’ll keep Luis too busy to look for you.”

Sensing his adamancy, Zafiro didn’t argue.

But she wasn’t going to hide in any cave when Luis and his gang showed up.

She’d thought about it long and hard. Luis had killed her father and had filled almost her entire life with chilling fear. The man sowed anguish as if throwing it like seed.

Horrible as it sounded, she wanted to watch him die.

S
awyer summoned the last dregs
of his supply of patience as Lorenzo toppled to the ground. Every time the man shot the pistol, the force of the explosion threw him straight off his feet.

Pedro was no better. His hands shook so badly that he kept dropping the gun.

And Maclovio couldn’t have hit the bottle on the fence post if his very life depended on it. He’d shot several saplings in half, put a bullet through one of the flower barrels, and almost killed Coraje. His shooting skills were not only rusty.

They were dead.

And Sawyer began to wonder if he should send the three old outlaws into the cave with the women when Luis arrived.

But he continued to humor them, practicing with them each day. Especially with Maclovio, hoping that daily practice would somehow improve the man’s awful aim.

And later, when daytime surrendered to night, he practiced with Zafiro. Practiced skills of an entirely different sort.

Long walks in the woods, by the stream, and over the mountain paths offered them time and privacy as well as an escape from Tia’s watchful eye. Beneath the smiling moon and within the stony arms of the Sierras, they surrendered to their passion for each other, each sensual encounter teaching each more about the other.

And it was during one of their nightly strolls that Zafiro asked Sawyer the question she’d been keeping secret in her heart.

“Have you fallen in love with me, Sawyer?”

His hand stilled upon her bare breast, and he shifted in the soft sand by the stream.

“Sawyer?” Zafiro moved to lie on top of him, and the feel of his nakedness beneath her caused her a delicious shimmer of pleasure.

“Zafiro…” He clasped her waist, his fingers smoothing over her back. “I… You know I can’t stay here with you,” he tried to make her understand. “I have to leave—”

“I know,” she answered softly, “but do you love me?”

“I’m not going to let myself love you.”

There. He’d said it. He’d told her bluntly and perhaps he’d hurt her feelings, but he could think of no other way to make her understand. “I have to leave. I have to return to Synner. If I loved you, Zafiro…”

If he loved her, leaving her would be the hardest thing he’d ever done in his entire life. And so he wasn’t going to love her. No matter how difficult it was to do, he was not going to allow his feelings for her to deepen.

“No,” he said softly. “I have to leave.”

She didn’t like his answer one bit. “But you know, I have been thinking. You could bring your brothers and sister—”

“Do you think I haven’t already thought of that?”

“You have?”

“Yes. But I can’t do it.”

“But why?”

“Think about it, Zafiro,” he said gently. “Think about what taking them away from Synner would do to them.”

His reasoning hit her like a blast of wind. “The town,” she whispered. “All the things I never had, but wanted. School. Friends. A store. A place where I knew everyone and everyone knew me.”

“And where you could stick your hand into the jawbreaker jar, watch lovers swing on the swings, and hear about who ran away to marry who.”

Her watched her as she dwelled on what he’d told her. She, of all people, would understand.

And he counted on her kindness, her loving heart to help her accept his decision.

She didn’t disappoint him. “You are right, Sawyer. There is nothing for your brothers and your sister here at La Escondida. They would miss many things. Things that are very important to children. It would be unfair for you to bring them here.”

He picked up a handful of sand, then let it sprinkle from his fingers. “Yes.”

“And I… Even if you invited me I could not go to Synner. My men, they might be old, but they are still wanted for their crimes. I could not take the risk of someone realizing who they are.”

The sad resignation that suddenly appeared within the depths of her beautiful sapphire eyes deepened Sawyer’s own profound regret. Given the liberty, he would freely open himself to her, allowing his every feeling for her to grow, intensify, and strengthen.

No, he told himself. No.

He decided to turn her attention elsewhere. To give her and himself something else to think about.

Tenderly, leisurely, he began to make love to her. Kissing her sweetly, he took full advantage of her position on top of him, opened her legs, and slid easily into her.

Never having made love in the manner Sawyer was showing her now, Zafiro wasn’t exactly certain what to do. But her confusion vanished when Sawyer grasped her hips and began to move them for her. He moved them in small circles, then moved them up and down, and as soon as she caught the cadence and motions he’d set and began to imitate them on her own, the first hint of pleasure caught her unaware.

“Oh, Sawyer,” she breathed. “This way is the best we have done it so far!”

Her delight made him smile. The truth was that every position he’d taught her had been the best one they’d done so far. She said the same thing every time he showed her something different.

Yesterday he’d had her lie on her stomach and had entered her from behind while bringing her to climax with his hand. She’d said that had been the best way so far.

A few nights ago he’d made love to her while she sat in his lap facing him. That, too, had been the best way so far.

He’d loved her while they were lying on their sides, chest to chest, hips to hips. The best way so far, she’d said.

The position for lovemaking never mattered to her. She loved having him inside her every bit as much as he loved being there.

Love.

God, it would be so easy to love this wonderful, beautiful girl.

“Sawyer.”

In the sound of his own name he recognized what she was telling him. He felt it too. She pulsed around him, the rhythmic proof of her climax hugging his length.

But he wasn’t going to give in to his own desire. Not yet.

He wanted to give Zafiro a second gift of pleasure. One he would share with her.

He took her hips and moved them again, all the white pumping into her depths with the strong and steady strokes he knew would bring her straight into the same swirl of bliss that had taken hold of him.

And he knew he’d succeeded when her body trembled in his arms, when she moaned incomprehensible words into his shoulder…and when her heart began to beat so wildly that it felt as though it had jumped into his own chest.

He yielded to his own release then. White-hot ecstasy bolting through him, he plunged into Zafiro so deeply that he touched the mouth of her womb.

And there he spilled his seed.

When she felt him flood her with his essence, Zafiro wondered about the possibility of a child. To have a part of Sawyer in the form of his son or daughter filled her with joy.

And yet she hoped it would not happen. Raising his child in La Escondida presented the same problems that bringing his brothers and sister here had. The mountain hideaway, beautiful as it was, was no place for children.

The pleasure Sawyer had given her swiftly faded, replaced by an overwhelming sadness.

She couldn’t have Sawyer, nor could she have his child.

All she would have when he was gone were memories.

S
orrow lingered within Zafiro’s heart
for days that spilled into weeks. A month passed. Nothing she thought of could temper the grief she felt over the coming of Sawyer’s departure. She stayed by his side all through the day and all through the night, memorizing everything he said and everything he did.

When he was gone she would summon the recollections and relive them. And so, to make sure she had enough to last her a lifetime, she clung to his every word, his every action, and even attempted to read his thoughts.

He continued to spend many hours each day with the old gang. Pedro and Lorenzo were hopeless. Nothing he did helped them to shoot.

But thanks to his skills and perhaps a bit of help from heaven, Maclovio’s shooting had improved. Five times out of ten Maclovio managed to hit the targets Sawyer set up for him. For that, Zafiro was exceedingly grateful, for it meant that Sawyer would have a bit of help with Luis at least.

Even Sawyer was forced to admit that Maclovio might very well prove to be of value when Luis appeared. Eventually, he concentrated solely on Maclovio and made the firm decision to send Pedro and Lorenzo into the cave with the women when the day of danger arrived.

But one morning Maclovio didn’t show up for practice.

“I just saw him an hour ago,” Sawyer said, standing in the yard and looking all around. “He was in the loft in the barn. Said he was looking for something he thought he’d left up there.”

“Lorenzo and I saw him there too,” Pedro said, standing with Lorenzo beside one of the rose beds.

“I am sure he will be along in a minute, Sawyer,” Zafiro said. Seated on the porch step with Tia and Azucar, she swatted at a bothersome insect. “Maclovio would not miss a practice on purpose. He will be here even if he has to meet the devil and go through a flood.”

Sawyer frowned. “Meet the devil…” It took him a while, but he finally deciphered what she’d said. “He’ll be here come hell or high water.”

“Yes, that is—”

“What you said,” he finished for her. Laughing, he began to load the guns Maclovio would use when he arrived. “Rabbit stew, right, Tia?” he asked, smelling the fragrant meal as it wafted from the open window in the cabin.

Tia beamed. “I have made enough rabbit stew for us all to have three bowls if we want that many. And Zafiro, she is going to help me make a spice cake with the cinnamon and cloves the nuns brought to us from Piedra Blanca. Isn’t that right,
chiquita?”

Tia turned to smile at Zafiro. One look at the girl’s face quickly turned her smile into a deep frown. “Zafiro,” she murmured. “You…you feel something.”

“Tia.” Suddenly, Zafiro’s heart fluttered, missed several beats, felt as though it would stop altogether, then began to hammer. She rafted her hand to her throat, knowing what symptom was coming next, dreading its arrival.

It happened quickly. She couldn’t seem to breathe; her mouth went completely dry, preventing her from being able to swallow.

Her wide-eyed gaze flew to the hidden entrance of La Escondida, and she stared at the portal so hard that her eyes watered and stung. No longer could she stay seated on the porch step beside Azucar and Tia.

Her legs shook with the need to run. To escape. She rose from the porch step as if an explosion from hell had thrown her off.

Panic seized her. Absolute fear.

The terror was upon her.

“Luis.” She whispered his name, afraid that speaking it aloud would suddenly make him appear in front of her. Wildly, she tried to sense where he was, how long it would be before he arrived.