Hannah Howell (2 page)

“You can start by keeping her out of places like this. This isn't what she should learn of men and women."

Nodding, Juan stood up. “You come with me,
gringo,
and tell me more while I find a room for Antonie. Julio, I give you two hours to have your fun, then you come to the inn and take my place watching Antonie."

Two men, well armed, followed Juan, Antonie, and Royal. It was evident that Juan had no intention of being caught out alone and unaware. Royal noted that the girl was calmly accepting of these precautions. As they walked, Royal obediently related all he could think of pertaining to the proper raising of a young girl. Having a sister gave him some insight, but not much.

When they reached the room obtained for Antonie, a door away from his own, Royal kept his eyes averted as she got ready for bed. Once she was neatly tucked in bed, he sat at a small table with Juan to share a bottle of tequila. Royal could not fully shake the strangeness of talking about the proper raising of a girl with a man like Juan Ramirez.

“I did not do the killing of her parents."

That softly spoken statement made Royal flush guiltily. “I had wondered."

“You are an honest man. There are few left. They were
gringos,
but poor. I do not go after ones who have nothing, or men whose hands are fitted to a plow, not a gun. They are a waste of my time, eh? Men come and go in my band. Not all follow orders. Four took a little—how you say—detour. They do the killing. I had just shot the leader as a lesson when the girl comes. She was nine and very tiny.” He shrugged. “I decided to be a father."

“They think you stole her and they want her almost as much as they want you."

"Sí.
They have tried. I left her with Manuel's woman once. She proved she was not to be trusted."

“What happened?"

“She sold my
niña
to the
gringos.
We did not kill her for that, but Manuel took his sons. So, we follow and bring my
niña
back."

“Was that best?” Royal ventured to ask. “You are a
bandido,
living each day by your gun. God knows how many men ache to kill you. Maybe she'd be better off if she went back. There would be families ready to take in such a pretty child."

“Antonie is mine. The
gringos
could not hold her. She slipped away from them and we found her walking back to me. The child made her choice. She wants to stay with Juan Ramirez."

There was no more to say. Amazing though it was, Juan Ramirez plainly adored the little girl with all the ferocity of a true father, perhaps more. He was a hard man born of a hard life, but evidently the child filled some need, touched some long unused softness in the man. The child looked neither abused nor unhappy. She was clearly just where she wanted to be.

Deciding that he had had enough excitement and drink for the evening, Royal did not go back to the cantina. He crawled into his bed and quickly fell asleep.

Although he knew it was morning when he next opened his eyes, it was not sunlight he first saw, but a pair of wide purple eyes staring into his. He was suddenly very conscious of his nudity.

“I brought you your breakfast,
señor."
Antonie sat down on the edge of his bed.

Gingerly he sat up, taking care to keep himself covered, the smell of rich hot coffee and food further waking him. “That was very kind of you, Antonie, but you really shouldn't be in here."

“I left the door open as I heard you say a lady should."

Royal nearly choked on his coffee for the door was indeed open, wide open, letting anyone who walked past look in on him. “Yes, well, when I was speaking of rooms, I wasn't meaning bedrooms.” The way she looked at him told him that she did not understand. “Ladies do not enter a man's bedroom.” He decided to eat while he thought of a way to explain it to her.

She watched him while he ate. His thick chestnut hair was tousled from sleep, but did as little as his youth to soften the slightly harsh lines of his face. He was not as dark as Juan but not as pale as some
gringos.
The deep green of his eyes, set beneath neatly drawn, vaguely winged brows, fascinated her.

“Kiss me,” she abruptly ordered when he ate the last of his food.

After choking on that last bite for a minute, Royal gasped, “Don't be ridiculous."

Suddenly he found a knife at his throat.

“I said kiss me,
gringo."

“Antonie,” drawled an all too familiar voice from the door, “this is not the way to seduce a man."

Putting away her knife, Antonie groused, “I thought you were still with Maria."

Strolling up to the bed, Juan looked at her sternly. “Ah. So you thought to rush in here and learn to be a
puta."

“I just wanted a kiss. None of that other business. Oro and Tomás are only two years older than me, and they have done it all."

“They are learning to be men. Doing it all is part of becoming a man."

“I do not want it all. Just one kiss. I asked Oro and Tomás, but they said no and threw me in the water. Last time I was at church the girls were talking about kissing. I just wanted to know. Everybody has done it but me."

Juan stared at her. It was clear that her thoughts were already growing with her body. He knew how stubborn she could be once she got an idea into her head. Leaning against the wall by the bed, he took out a cigarillo.

“Kiss her."

“What?” Royal gasped. “She's just a kid, for Christ's sake."

"Sí
and no.” He lit his cigarillo and slowly drew on it. “She is thinking she is missing something, eh?"

“And you expect me to show her she isn't?” Royal did not feel very flattered.

“No. I expect you to answer what this question is in her stubborn mind. She will keep asking until she gets her answer, and I do not want someone to tell her too much,
sí?
You kiss her."

“Oh for god's sake,” Royal muttered and yanked her to him to deliver a brief kiss.

“That is all?” Antonie asked in disappointment.

“For you,
sí.
Now, vamoose."

“It does not seem worth all the excitement,” she grumbled as she left, Sage at her heels.

“That should end that,” Juan said with satisfaction.

“Are you sure?” Royal was trying not to be too insulted by her reaction.

"Sí.
She does not like it when the girls at the church talk of things she does not know. Now she knows.” Juan moved to the door. “Some day I will repay my debt.
Vaya con Dios, amigo."

Before Royal could reply, the man was gone, the door shut after him. It was time to go home for a while. Things might be dull there, but at least he did not find himself cheek to jowl with notorious
bandidos
and precocious little girls.

An hour later he was mounting his horse in preparation of leaving, only to see that Juan Ramirez was doing the same. The girl sat on a huge black stallion flanked by two mounted youths who obviously had some Indian blood in their veins. They made an impressive trio, the two tall, dark youths beside the tiny fair Antonie. He returned their farewells as he rode past them on his way out of town.

When Royal reached his home several days later, he found that the girl still troubled him. She came to mind as he greeted his sister. Patricia was growing up wrapped in the protection of her family, enjoying all the innocent games and interests of a young girl facing womanhood. It was hard not to compare that to Antonie's life, steeped in violence and danger. It still did not seem right but he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

Since he did not want anyone to know that he had saved the life of Juan Ramirez, Royal never mentioned Antonie to anyone, only listened more closely to any tales of Juan Ramirez that came his way.

A short time after his meeting with Juan and Antonie, war exploded within the country. Royal lost all interest in Juan Ramirez and his young charge, as he and two of his brothers rode off with many another young Texan to become mired in hate and blood. His brother Denton fell at Gettysburg, while he and his brother Cole managed to survive until Lee surrendered. Bitter, scarred inside and out, he returned home with Cole after a year to find their parents dead and Patricia and the youngest son, Justin, struggling to keep the ranch together. Cole joined the Rangers, while Royal tried to forget the war by immersing himself in the fight to hang on to the ranch.

Spring, 1868

“What the hell happened to you?"

Cole Bancroft eased himself into a chair and tried to grin at his elder brother. “Can I have a drink before I go into any details?"

Royal's anger hid his concern. He had lost one brother and had no intention of losing another. By the looks of it, the wound in Cole's shoulder had come far too close in succeeding in its clear intention of killing the lawman. Scowling, he handed Cole a drink.

“Don't you think four years of getting shot at was enough?” Royal snapped.

“Plenty, but I've got two months left before I get out. Damn, Royal, we almost had the bastard."

“Ramirez?” He forced away a sudden vision of wide purple eyes.

“Yeah. Still, we did him some real damage, so that might be an end to it."

“How'd he get away?"

“That's the strange thing. It was the girl.” He frowned briefly when Royal gave a sudden start. “She never gets involved. Never. We were closing in for the kill when she and those two Indians, or so they looked, came charging in. No one expected it. Threw us all off. They dragged off Ramirez and one other, though he looked dead. Gave the others left alive a chance to run."

“That when you got shot?"

“Oh yeah.” Cole shook his head and took a drink. “I should be dead. I couldn't shoot her, Royal. I was the only one who had the chance, but I couldn't. Funny thing is, she was ready to shoot me. Hank yelled for me to shoot, but I froze."

“Jesus. Well, she missed. You're damn lucky."

“I'm not so sure it was luck. She was aiming right and steady at my heart, Royal, then suddenly upped her aim."

“Did someone say your name?"

“Come to think of it, yeah. Hank said, ‘Shoot, Bancroft, or get your dumb ass out of there.'."

A small grin flickered over Royal's face. “Hell, and it's been at least seven years. Wonder if he'll consider that old debt paid now?"

“Think you might stop muttering to yourself and tell me what the hell you mean?"

“It's a long story."

“I ain't going too far too fast.” Cole did, however, find a need to refill his drink as Royal told his story.

“I never told anyone, as it's not a story I wanted to get around."

“Hell no. They'd hang you. Slowly. It hasn't stopped him from hitting our ranch though."

“Never really thought it was him.” He held up his hand to stop Cole's hovering outburst. “I don't know who, though. Just felt it wasn't him.” After staring into his drink for a moment, he asked quietly, “What's she look like?"

“Told the men I didn't know.” Cole grimaced. “Just didn't want any of them setting out after her. She's something, Royal. Lord, is she something. Not very big, but what there is of her...” He shook his head. “Well, it's why I couldn't shoot her. Just stood there gawking at her thinking stupid things, like how can a girl with hair like cornsilk shoot a man. She dresses all in black and her horse is a big black stallion. Startling. If Ramirez is like a father to her, I think she'll be an orphan again real soon."

Antonie had to face the truth. It was over and she knew it. She had even fetched a priest to give Juan the last rites. For eleven years she had held the love of and loved a man living on borrowed time. Now she would be alone again. Even Sage was gone. As she attended Manuel's and Julio's brief funeral then left Oro and Tomás to their grief, she wondered how much time was left before Juan left them, too.

"Niña,
come to me,” Juan rasped from the bed. “We must talk."

“No. You must save your strength.” She knelt by his bed and pressed his hand to her cheek.

“There is nothing to save it for,
querida.
Listen. You must pay my debt now. The
gringo.
Bancroft. I had plans made. You must carry them out. Vultures circle him, child. His land is good and a man is after it."

“I think his brother was with the Rangers. I could have killed him, but I did not."

“Not enough. Two lives I owe him. To this man his ranch is his life. Juan Ramirez will give it to him."

“Who is trying to steal it and how can I help?” She was finding it hard not to cry as she watched the life slowly ebb from his body.

“A man close to him, but I have no name. Raoul is in his pay. Killed Bancroft's parents. Many raids. Much trouble."

She nodded and tried to keep the tears she could no longer hold back from dampening his hand. “Weaken him until he is broken."

“That is the plan. Much trouble planned for cattle drive. Sister in danger. You will go to him. Take Oro and Tomás. Be his guns. Pay our debt, my angel.” He felt her tears and smiled a little. “My child never cries."

“Please, Juan.” She kissed his palm. “Please do not leave me alone. I love you."

His hand went to her hair. “As I love you, Antonie, and this I have said to no one before. You were the sunlight in my dark life, and I thank you. Do not ask me to live, my pet, for if I do I would never rise from this bed and that is no life. Julio and Manuel wait for me. We will cause the devil a trouble, eh?"

“I am sure.” She kissed his too-cold cheek. “I will name my first son for you, father of my heart."

“I will be remembered. That will be enough."

He slipped away, quietly, with a soft sigh. Antonie wiped her tears and saw to his burial. The journey he had told her to take was postponed for a while as she saw to the selection of headstones for Juan, Manuel, and Julio. They had been hard men who had lived by their guns, but to her, Oro, and Tomás, they had been beloved family.

As they finally prepared to leave for Texas, Antonie studied her companions. Oro and Tomás were identical save that Oro had a small scar on his finely hewn chin and was less jovial and talkative than Tomás. The Indian blood bequeathed them by their mother, who had been part Yaqui, had given a light copper tone to their skin and high wide cheekbones. Their straight black hair was always too long, making that heritage seem more prominent than the greater Mexican one. From the moment they had been taken from their mother, they had been brothers and guards to Antonie. She hoped that their constant presence at her side, out of the raiding and fighting, would mean that they were not wanted by the law.