On The Texas Border (12 page)

A
BBY WOKE UP
feeling a strange emptiness. As soon as her mind began to function, she knew what the problem was. Jonas was gone. She scrambled to her knees as panic swept through her. Then she saw him coming through the corn, and her whole body trembled with a sense of relief…and more…an awareness
that went beyond anything she’d ever known. How had she ever lived without knowing Jonas—his touch, his warmth, his deep sense of pride? A few days ago she’d just wanted him to talk to her. Now she wanted so much more.

Jonas halted a few feet away from her. He saw the fear in her eyes and dropped down beside her. “Abby, what is it?”

She swallowed. “I thought you’d gone.”

“I wouldn’t leave you here. Don’t you know that?”

“Yes,” she said, and dragged both hands through her disheveled hair. “But when I woke up, I had this horrible feeling, and you weren’t here…” She threw both arms around his neck. “Hold me, just hold me.”

He held her tightly, enjoying this moment. “We have to go,” he said, and leaned away. “It will be light soon.”

“Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

“Pull away from me.”

“Abby.” He sighed. “This isn’t the time.”

“Yes, it is,” she told him. “Are you seeing someone else?”

He drew back. “No.”

“A woman decorated your apartment,” she continued, hating the jealousy she could hear in her voice.

His eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

“A woman’s instinct.”

“I see,” he said, and watched her thoughtfully for a second. “I dated a woman for a while who has an
interior decorating shop in McAllen. She helped with the apartment.”

“Was the relationship serious?”

“It was a physical relationship, Abby,” he replied. “We both knew that from the start. She wanted to take things further, but I don’t have a future to offer anyone. Brewster owns me, just like he said. I thought you understood that.”

“Brewster does not own you,” she declared fiercely. “Not unless you let him. And it’s time you realized that.”

“Abby.”

“It’s true, Jonas. You can’t stop living because of an accident you weren’t responsible for.”

He stood and held out his hand to her. “We’ll talk about it later. Now we have to go.”

She placed her hand in his, and he helped her up. She was beginning to hate that word.
Later.
She was afraid there was never going to be a later for them.

T
HEY MADE THEIR WAY
through the cornfield and to the top of the incline. Abby was dirty, grimy and hungry. She had started this trip wanting answers, but she was beginning to recognize that she might never get those answers. She wanted to clear her father’s name so no one would ever think badly of him. But her mother was right. Abby was also doing this for herself because she wanted people to remember Abe the way she did—loving, kind and honest.

Now she had a different perspective. Her father wouldn’t want her endangering her life or Jonas’s. Could she give up the quest? A day ago she would have said no, but with these new feelings for Jonas…She shook her head. First, they had to get out of Mexico.

They walked down the dirt road toward Nuevo Hope. At this hour nothing stirred, except a jackrabbit that jumped out in front of them and almost scared her to death. She was jumpy, with good reason. She didn’t know what was going to be around the next bend, but she kept walking. She just wanted to see Texas again.

They were almost in Nuevo Hope when a truck suddenly came out of nowhere and slid sideways to a complete stop in front of them. Dust blanketed them. As it cleared, two Mexican men got out. The
first things Abby noticed were the switchblade knives in their hands. Fear engulfed her, and she couldn’t move. All she could do was stare at the two men in horror. What did they want with her and Jonas?

The bigger man stepped forward, the silver blade glistening in his hand. He smiled, showing a set of yellow teeth with gold caps. “You lost,
gringo?
”

Jonas moved in front of Abby. “No, are you?” he countered in a calm tone.

The man laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He spoke to the other man. “Gringo’s funny.”

“Sì.”
The other man grinned, his eyes on Abby.

He seemed fascinated with her hair. Revulsion crawled along her skin and she moved closer to Jonas.

“What do you want?” Jonas asked, steel in his voice.

The smile left the big man’s face. “The woman,
gringo.
I want the woman.”

Jonas felt Abby tremble, but he kept his eyes on the man. “Over my dead body.”

The first man snickered. “That won’t be a problem.”

“You don’t want to do this,” Jonas said.

“Why?” The man laughed again. “Because you’re Brewster’s henchman don’t mean nothing here. You’re in Mexico now,
gringo.
”

So he knew Brewster and he knew who Jonas was—but Jonas was positive he’d never met the man before.

“Nothing to say, farm boy?”

“Let us pass,” Jonas said, his eyes never leaving the man.

The man motioned to his partner. Before Abby
realized what was happening, the shorter man made a grab for her, but Jonas’s fist came out and knocked him to the ground.

“Bastardo gringo, mata lo,”
the man muttered, holding his jaw. Then he quickly got to his feet. He wielded the knife in his hand, an evil look on his face.

“Ah,
gringo,
” the big man said. “Now you’ve made Pepe mad. He’s mean when mad.”

Jonas watched the two men as they slowly advanced on him. “You want money? Name your price. We’ll make a deal.”

“No deal,” the first man said. “Your money’s in Texas and the woman is here. Now it’s time for you to die.” As he said the words, they both jumped on Jonas and wrestled him to the dirt. The big man came up with his arm locked around Jonas’s neck, the knife to his throat.

Abby was petrified. Before she could do anything, Pepe grabbed her. He held her around the waist, her arms pinned to her side. He smelled of sweat, whiskey and stale tobacco. Her stomach churned.

“Ah,
gringo,
are you ready to die?” the big man snarled.

“Do what you want with me, but let the woman go,” Jonas said.

“What we want with a man? My compatriots pay much to be with a woman like her.”

A gasp left Abby’s throat. She couldn’t give in to fear. She had to help Jonas or the man was going to slit his throat. The mere thought gave her courage. There had to be a way out of this. She needed something…a weapon of some kind. She caught sight of a broken tree branch on the ground, but there was
no way she could get to it, unless… Yes, she could use her hand.

She looked at Jonas, hoping he’d keep his eyes on her. He did. He winked, and she knew he was fixing to do something. Before the thought left her mind, Jonas drove his heel into the man’s chin. The Mexican groaned but didn’t let go.

At the same time Abby brought her hand to the arm around her waist, dug her nails in and scratched as hard as she could. The man let out a curse and loosened his grip. Everything happened quickly after that. Abby fell to the ground, gripping the branch with both hands. With all her strength, she slammed it against the man’s head. He collapsed to the dirt, moaning and holding his head.

Jonas shoved his elbow into his captor’s stomach and twisted away. The man came after him, and they wrestled to the ground. Abby hoisted the branch again, poised to strike. But there was no way to be sure she wouldn’t hit Jonas. So she held her breath and waited to see who would come out on top, but she was well acquainted with those muscles in Jonas’s arms and legs and she knew there was no way the Mexican could win this fight. She was right. Soon he rolled the man over, straddling him, the knife to the man’s throat.

“Okay,
amigo,
now we’re gonna do this a different way,” Jonas growled.

Blood suffused the man’s brown face. “Ah,
gringo,
we meant you no harm. It was just fun.”

“Yeah, right,” Jonas snapped. “Who’s paying you?”

“No—”

The knife touched the man’s skin, and Abby saw a trickle of blood.

“Please, please, don’t kill me,” the man cried.

“Then, tell me the truth, and I’ll let you go.”

“No se.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jonas’s hold tightened.

“Por favor. Por favor. No me matas.”

“Start talking, and I won’t kill you.”

“Victor Rios gave me
dinero
to keep you away from Delores Alvarez.
No se
who pay him. That’s the truth,
gringo.
”

Jonas knew Victor Rios. He’d been fired by Brewster for stealing, and after that he’d been into all sorts of shady deals…in Texas and Mexico.

“Why do you want the woman?” Jonas asked, not sure what to believe.

“She make me big
dinero,
and Rios didn’t care. He only paid me to keep you away from Delores.”

“You bastard.” Jonas wanted to smash his fist into the man’s face, but he didn’t.

“It’s true,
gringo.
I swear.”

“Since you seem to know Delores Alvarez, where is she?”

“Rios will kill me.”

Jonas brought the knife to his jugular again. “Where is Delores Alvarez?”

“Por favor, gringo,”
the man begged.

“You can die now or later,” Jonas told him. “Your choice.”

The man took several gulps of air. “She runs a cantina…on the edge of town.”

“Does she know we’re looking for her?”

“
Sì,
but I told her and everyone that if they talked, I’d slit their throats.”

Jonas wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth, but there wasn’t much he could do. At least now he knew someone was paying Rios, and he’d take it from there.

“Abby,” he called, “get into the truck and start it.”

Abby dropped the branch, noticing the other man was still grunting in pain. She climbed into the truck and turned the key. The engine backfired a couple of times but kept running.

Jonas swung his leg over the man.
“Adios, amigo,”
he said and ran for the truck. Along the way he threw the knife into the bushes.

As soon as Jonas was in the passenger seat, Abby pressed the gas pedal and they roared away. The truck bounced on the dirt road like a rubber ball, but Abby didn’t stop until she saw Nuevo Hope.

She pulled over to the side. Her insides began to quiver, and she had to take several deep breaths to still her nerves.

Jonas watched her for a moment. “You okay?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m getting angrier and angrier by the minute. Who paid Rios? Who would do this to us? This is not a game. What those men wanted to do with me…” She shuddered, unable to finish the sentence.

“It’s over,” he assured her. “And now…”

“Now what?” she asked.

“I was going to say we get the hell out of here, but I want to find Delores Alvarez and see if that bastard was lying or not. Are you game?”

“Oh, Jonas.” She reached out and smoothed his
hair from his forehead. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

He caught her hand. This time he didn’t push her away. She noticed his knuckles were bruised. “You’re hurt,” she said miserably, and moved along the seat to kiss his hand.

“I just skinned them rolling on the ground with that slime.”

He grinned as she kissed his knuckles again. “They’re much better now.”

“Oh, Jonas, I could’ve got you killed.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

She leaned back against the seat. “You were right. I have a head like cement. When I started this, all I could think of was absolving my father.” She paused and stroked his hand. “Now I know that it doesn’t matter what people think of him. It only matters how I feel about him in my heart.”

“You finally realized that?”

“Yes, when that man was holding that knife to your throat, I knew this was senseless. I shouldn’t have put you or myself in that position. My father wouldn’t want that.”

“Can you really let it go?”

She blinked back a tear. “If you help me, I can.”

Eyeing her determined face, he said, “Why don’t we find out if Delores is where the man said she is…just to justify all we’ve been through. And to see whether Brewster’s daughter really exists.”

Her eyes brightened. “Yes, let’s do that.”

Ten minutes later, they found the cantina right on the edge of town, just like the man had said.

“This must be it,” Jonas said as they entered.

A youth, not more than twelve years old was
sweeping the concrete floor. Tables were scattered throughout and there was a bar at one end.

“Tu conoce a Delores Alvarez?”
Jonas asked the boy.

“Sì,”
the boy nodded. He stopped sweeping and glanced toward the ceiling.
“Esta dormida.”

Abby recognized that the boy had said Delores was upstairs sleeping. Her heart began to race. He’d answered without even thinking. Obviously he was so young he hadn’t gotten the message that he wasn’t supposed to talk. They’d found Delores. Now Abby could hardly wait to hear what the woman had to say.

“Por favor desperta la.”
Jonas asked the boy to wake up Delores.

The boy shook his head.
“No, no puedo.”
Evidently he’d been given orders to let her sleep.

Jonas pulled out a twenty-dollar bill.
“Es muy importante,”
Jonas said.

The boy snatched the twenty and ran toward a small staircase in the back.

“Do you think she’ll come down, or try to get away?” Abby asked.

Jonas walked over to the only window and looked out. “There’s no way out from upstairs, so she’ll have to come down, and we’ll be waiting.”

Mexican curses erupted from upstairs. Suddenly the youth came running back, picked up the broom and began sweeping again. Jonas was about to ask him a question, when a woman appeared at the top of the stairs. All she had on was a black slip. Her black hair was tangled and matted around her face. Her heavy makeup had caked and run during sleep. Her face was tired and old.

Delores stumbled down the stairs. “What the hell do you want?”

“Delores Alvarez?” Jonas enquired.

“Sì,”
she said, and spat something at the boy. The discolored lace on the slip barely covered her large breasts, and she made no move to cover herself.

The boy brought her a bottle of whiskey, and she sat at a table and took a swig from the bottle. She wiped her mouth and said, “Go back to Texas,
gringo.
I have nothing to say to you.”

She spoke good English, and Abby was glad. At least they could talk. Abby walked forward. “Please, it’s very important.”

Delores took another swallow of whiskey. “I know why you’re here. Brewster says I had his daughter.” She laughed, spitting whiskey on the table. “If that was true, do you think I’d be in this place turning twenty-dollar tricks?”

“You didn’t have an affair with Mr. Brewster?” Abby asked.

“No, Brewster never bothered the Mexican girls that worked for him.”

Abby wanted to ask if she was sure, but knew the question was unnecessary. Delores had nothing to gain by lying.

“Why did you leave Brewster’s employment?” Abby had to have some answers.

“I was pregnant, and Brewster didn’t want pregnant girls working in the house.”

“So you were pregnant?”

“Sì, señorita.”
She smiled slyly and shouted something in Mexican. Five girls appeared at the top of the stairs, all scantily clad. “These are my daugh
ters,” Delores added. “Do any of them look like Brewster?”

They all had dark hair and eyes and brown skin, and Abby had to admit that she didn’t see any trace of Mr. Brewster in them.

Delores shouted something again, and the girls disappeared. “I didn’t have Brewster’s daughter,
señorita.
He lied to you.”

“Why would he lie? Please, tell me the truth.”

Delores swallowed more whiskey and watched Abby with cunning eyes. Jonas recognized that look. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He laid a hundred on the table.

“Is the truth worth that much?”

“Ah,
gringo,
you’re very generous.” Delores smiled at Jonas, and Abby didn’t like the way she was sizing him up, as if she was wondering what he was like in bed.

Delores tried to take the money, but Jonas held it up. “The truth first.”

Delores grabbed the whiskey bottle again. After several swallows, she said, “Before I left I found Brewster in bed with that woman who worked in his office. His wife had left him, and he didn’t want anyone to know about the affair. He said he’d cut my tongue out if I told. He wanted his wife and son to come back to Brewster Farms.”