Authors: A Taste of Fire
“Mexico."
The forkful of tender beef Royal had raised to his mouth clattered back onto his plate. Oro was coldly meeting his stunned gaze. Royal felt a chill creep up his spine.
“Why are they going to Mexico?” he demanded as anger, born of a fear he did not really want to examine, overtook his shock.
“They go home."
“I asked why, Oro."
“Because she will be your lover but not your
puta, gringo."
There was such fury in Oro's voice that Royal was momentarily taken aback. He had the distinct feeling that it was only the man's love for Patricia that kept him from putting that rage into action. The feeling that something was very wrong grew so strong that Royal had to clench the arms of his chair to keep from grabbing Oro and shaking some answers out of him.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded.
“She will not be your piece on the side, eh?” Oro replied.
“On the side of what?” Royal bellowed.
“On the side of your marriage to Marilyn Collins."
Royal froze even as Cole demanded, “What the hell? Are you marrying Marilyn?"
“I thought that idea had died,” Justin said, surprised.
“It did, Justin,” Royal said almost absently, his gaze never leaving Oro. “What makes you think I'm marrying Marilyn?"
“I do not think,” Oro said. “I know. Antonie knows."
“Did she speak to Marilyn?"
“She saw you, Royal,” Patricia answered quietly.
“Saw me? I haven't seen Antonie all day. Last I saw of her she was sleeping peacefully."
"Sí,
and so you leave her bed and run to the Anglo bitch,” Oro said, almost hissing the words.
“Oro, please,” Patricia whispered.
“Why don't you just tell me what happened, Oro?” Royal asked.
“Good idea,” Cole interrupted with some annoyance. “You two are going back and forth without saying much. It's gotten damn confusing."
“Antonie got up and she went to find you,” Oro explained. “She found you kissing Marilyn at the door."
“Marilyn always kisses me when she arrives,” Royal said defensively, but he knew that the very thing he feared had happened.
“You kissed her back this time. Antonie said so. She said that is why she followed you. From the library she saw and she heard."
“And then ran. Well, I'm going after her,” Royal said as he stood up.
“No. You will leave her alone. I stepped back when you took her for your lover although I do not like it, but it was what she wanted. I will not let you play these games with her. Marry your Anglo and stay away from Antonie,” Oro threatened him.
“I am not marrying Marilyn,” Royal ground out.
“Royal, sit down for a minute,” Cole suggested. “I think you haven't finished explaining and you can't blame Oro for thinking what he is. You ain't going after Antonie now anyway. No sense in breaking your neck. I'm sure Oro can tell you right where they are going to be."
Slowly, Royal sat down. Cole was right. Oro was due an explanation. He was simply protecting Antonie. An explanation would also stop everyone from looking at him like he was the lowest of snakes, he thought crossly, as he looked around the table. It struck him as unfair that even his family would jump to the worst possible conclusion.
“I am not marrying Marilyn,” he restated firmly.
“You mean Antonie misunderstood?” Patricia asked eagerly.
“In a way.” Royal dragged his fingers through his hair as he struggled to think of the quickest and clearest way to explain himself. “Look, I suddenly started to think and put two and two together. Every move we make is known."
“That could be a lot of people, Royal,” Cole murmured.
“I know, Cole,” Royal replied. “However, because of what happened at the wedding, I started looking at one person. Marilyn cornered me. To put it bluntly, she offered herself, to replace Antonie, of course. She was acting. I know it, could see it in her eyes. I started to ask myself why. I came up with a lot of sensible explanations. You know the sort. Maybe she's afraid of being a spinster. That kind of thing."
“It's very possible."
“So I thought, Justin. Then we presented Oro and Patricia with their surprise. That was a family secret, a closely kept one."
"Sí,"
Oro agreed slowly. “Patricia and I never knew it was coming. This is so,
querida?"
Patricia nodded. “Never heard a whisper."
“Yet an attack came,” Cole said.
“It did, and it was kind of ill-planned, don't you think?” Royal could see by their faces that they were all seeing the truth.
“We figured that out that night,” Cole agreed.
“I know, but with so many guests?” Royal shook his head. “I thought I'd never guess. Then I remembered Antonie pointing out that Marilyn and her father were gone even as we left Oro and Patricia. They might not have even come all the way to the cabin."
“You mean you've known who's behind all this since then?” Justin's tone was a mixture of shock and anger.
“I've thought so, Justin,” Royal said, then sharply rapped his fist on the table. “No, I'm sure of it, but I've got no proof. No proof at all. All I've got is the fact that Marilyn's always around. She knew the route we'd take on that drive. Just think a minute of everything that's happened right from the murder of our folks, and who's always there?"
“Marilyn,” Cole hissed.
“So why ask her to marry you?” Patricia asked in confusion.
“To set her up, eh?” Oro said.
“Yes, Oro, to set her up.” Royal could still hear a cold anger in Oro's voice, but knew it was no longer directed at him.
“But after being with Antonie for so long...” Patricia began.
“Why would she fall for it?” Royal's short laugh was soaked in bitterness. “She's vain, Pattie. Hell, even I hadn't realized how vain. She also sees Antonie as a Mexican. That made it easy for her to think I'd choose her. So, I took her into the study, groveled a little, acted besotted, and she bought it. I then told her, as exactly as I could without looking suspicious, about a trip I'll be taking Sunday. I told her I'm going to meet a Pinkerton man in San Antonio who's already got some information for me."
Justin's eyes slowly widened. “And if she's the one we want, she won't want you getting there."
“Exactly, Justin.” Royal poured himself some wine and passed the decanter to Cole.
“We'll only get the men she hires,
amigo."
“Maybe, Oro. Maybe, because it'll be done close to home, someone will want to watch."
“Like they did the attack on the cabin,” Patricia breathed.
“Right,” agreed Royal. “That'd be sweet good luck we can't count on though. Nevertheless, Marilyn will know I set a trap. She'll know that I know. However that makes her act, we'll have her. Her and her father, for I know he's in it, too. If nothing else, that knowledge can make them powerless."
“That's not good enough,” Cole said icily. “They have to pay for killing Ma and Pa."
“They will,” Royal vowed. “It may take some time though. Unless one of the pair falls into this trap or we finally get a man who'll talk, give us some proof, we'll still have some work to do to bring them to justice."
“I think Antonie would like to be in on that."
“Yes, she would, Cole.” Royal looked at Oro. “I'll go after her first thing in the morning."
Oro slowly stood up.
"Sí,
you do that,
gringo.
I think there is something else you must be doing, too."
“Really? And what is that?"
“I think that, when you go to bring Antonie back, you think real hard about why you do it."
“That should be obvious."
“Some of it,
sí.
A man does not like to lose such loving, eh? But Antonie is not a
puta."
“I know that,” Royal said tensely.
“Good. So, you think,
gringo.
The battle is nearly over, eh? Life here will be back to what it was. Before you drag Antonie back, you think real hard on what you bring her back
to.
You figure out what you want,
gringo."
Twenty-two
Burned into Antonie's mind was the sight of Tomás sprawled in the road, his blood darkening the dirt. Her eyes flew open despite the blinding pain in her head. It was a moment before Antonie was truly aware of her surroundings and began to remember.
She was no longer on the trail, but secured by her wrists to a musty-smelling bed. A quick glance relieved her mind a little, for she was still dressed. Frowning as she struggled to guess where she was, she looked over the adobe wall, gray with dirt and pockmarked. Her gaze flew to the door of the room as it opened and widened in shock when she saw who entered.
“So, the little bitch has finally woken up,” Marilyn drawled as she strode into the room behind Raoul Mendez.
“Such a hard woman,” Raoul mourned dramatically as he sat down on the bed across from Antonie.
“Correct me if I am wrong, but are you not the woman who wanted to marry Royal?” Antonie asked blandly.
“Of course I want to marry him and I will, now that you are out of the way."
“Then your association with this rabble escapes me.” Antonie winced when Raoul gave her an ungentle prod with his foot.
“Royal has no real need of a wife. He could yet change his mind about the wedding. He also has no need to sell his land—land my father wants."
“Ah, I begin to see. If he is hurt badly enough, you will be sure to gain both. He will marry you for your fortune to save his land, and then the land will be nearer to your papa through you. You have forgotten his brothers and Patricia. They share in it."
“I will see to that little problem in time,” Marilyn said coolly as she extracted Raoul's money from the saddlebags she had tossed onto a rickety chair. “Count it if you must,” she said, as she handed it to him. “It's all there."
"Sí,
the money is good.” Raoul's dark eyes settled on Marilyn. “Now the rest, eh?"
“Raoul, we are not alone,” Marilyn hissed. “Why not use
her?"
The panic that seized Antonie faded abruptly at the look that flashed through Raoul's eyes. She could only describe it as terror. His next words gave her a good idea of why he was frightened, and she almost laughed.
“She is Juan's
niña."
He glanced around as if he expected Juan to suddenly appear. “No. I want the usual,
gringa."
He pulled a knife, holding it menacingly aimed toward a wide-eyed Marilyn. “Move along,
gringa,"
he purred as he urged her back toward the door.
Marilyn began to obey, but protested, “I don't like this, Raoul. The money should be enough."
“We make a deal,
gringa.
I think it would be wise if you keep it, eh?"
“I made no such deal."
“I say you did. Move."
When Marilyn hesitated, he grabbed her by the hair and forced her through the door before him. The smile Raoul sent her way before he shut the door after them told Antonie what he intended to do with the struggling Marilyn. Despite her feelings about Marilyn, this form of humiliation touched Antonie and she engaged in a fruitless struggle to get her wrists free. She had to try to help her.
Just as she admitted that there was no chance of her aiding Marilyn, Antonie realized that she could hear everything through the battered thin door. She felt her stomach churn as she heard Marilyn give a heartrending cry. Her eyes widened with horror when she heard other men's voices. The poor woman was being forced to serve more than Raoul's animal lust.
After several moments of agonizing over the abused woman, Antonie suddenly tensed, listening to what she had just tried to deafen her ears to. There was no doubt in her mind that some very rough sexual activity was occurring in the other room. Raoul was highly vocal in his pleasure. What really caught her attention, however, was that Marilyn's tone had changed.
Antonie gasped in shock when she could no longer deny what she heard. Marilyn was enjoying herself. Her cries of protest had become ones of undisguised passion. She no longer screamed for her assailants to leave her alone but urged them on.
It was clear that she was not the cool, poised lady she played for Royal. She liked her sex play rough and plentiful. They had played a game and Antonie realized that she had almost fallen for it. If she had not listened more closely, had not succeeded in blocking out what she had first thought was a vicious rape, she would never have guessed at Marilyn's aberration. It was still hard to believe, even though the evidence kept beating away at her ears. She simply could not understand how any woman could subject herself to such treatment, let alone enjoy it.
Again Antonie's stomach heaved, only it was not with horror but disgust. Knowing what could exist between a man and a woman, she felt sickened by the twisted example of the act that she could hear being performed. She felt sure that Royal would share her disgust, for he was a civilized man; what was going on in the other room was nothing less than barbaric.
Royal needed to know about this, she thought, and then sighed. Even if she got out of the mess she was in, Royal had made his choice. Antonie knew she could not tell him about Marilyn. He would not believe it. It sounded too much like a tale from a woman scorned. She wondered why she felt sorry for him and the trouble he was headed for, instead of consigning him to the devil.
“Well,” Marilyn snapped, her sharp voice easy to hear through the door. “Now that you have had your fun, why don't you do what I paid you for? Kill her."
Antonie tensed and strained to listen more carefully. She would worry about Royal later.
“Not now,
gringa.
At dawn.
Sí,
at dawn. If it rains? Mañana.” Raoul laughed. “She can go nowhere. You men go. I need you no more."
Marilyn stomped her foot. “Damn you. I've paid you well. I want her killed
now,
so that I know it has been done."
Antonie did not need to hear Raoul's reaction to know that Marilyn had gone too far. Raoul took orders from no one. Despite his use of her body and the taking of her money, he saw Marilyn as a
gringa,
one of the race he hated.