The Listening Sky (44 page)

“I have Señor Pasqual to thank for my heir.” Ramon walked back and forth across the narrow room. His demeanor was cool, his
smile mocking. “After he is born, I shall have no further use for you. You can go to Mexico to be with your lover. Although
you may not be received graciously by General Anastasio Pasqual, it is his
esposa’s
papa who holds the purse strings.”

“You’ve… had me followed,” Patrice said, when she found her voice.

“Of course. A man who has a straying wife wants to know with whom he is sharing her.” He paused. A grin twisted his mouth
as he insolently looked her over. “The homesteader? Yi, yi, yi. He smelled like a wet goat. Did he take off his boots, little
puta
? Or did he lean you up against a tree and pull up your skirt? Is that how you like it, eh?”

“You don’t have to be insulting! You have your women.” She avoided looking at him.

“Si, Señora. But what is a man to do when his wife is no longer a pleasure to him?”

“I
chose
Colin to be the father of my child,” she said spitefully.

His face was stony, his eyes contemptuous and cold. He stood studying her for a moment before he spoke.

“You have seen Colin Tallman alone one time in the last two years. You went to his room at the hotel in Sante Fe. You were
there for less than five minutes when he threw you out. I doubt that even the most potent man could impregnate you in five
minutes. It would take that long to get your corset off.”

“You’re a bast—”

“Careful what you call me, Señora. I am a practical man. I’ve not fathered a child, but I’m expected to produce an heir. You’ve
taken care of that for me very nicely. Why do you think I did not kill you when I learned of your first dalliance with another
man less than a year after you exchanged vows with me?”

Now that his cards were on the table, Patrice began to feel a sense of power.
She had something he wanted
. The fog of fear lifted from her mind and she began to think. If he
wanted
the little bastard she carried in her belly, he would pay dearly to get it

“All right, Señor Guzman Cabeza, little
big
man of Rancho Cabezas.” She put emphasis on the insult. “If you want this
heir
there are going to be some changes. I’m—”

She never had a chance to finish what she was saying. Ramon exploded in a hot, jagged slash of fury. He swung his arm and
hit her with his open palm so hard that she was flung back onto the bed.

“I will have respect from you,
puta
. You will obey me.” His snarl was ground through with impotent rage. “Get on the bed and spread your legs. You’ve been playing
the whore for other men, now you’ll play the whore for me.”

“
U
NCLE Colin!”

Stella jumped out of the swing and went running toward him, Buddy close behind.

“Hello, punkin.” Colin swung the child up in his arms, then set her on her feet and took her hand.

“Me’n Mamma don’t have to go back to Laramie. Uncle T.C. told the old judge not to come back, and Uncle Herb hit him. I didn’t
get to see it. They made me and Aunt Polly stay upstairs.”

“It seems a lot has been going on while I was gone.”

“Aunt Polly and Uncle Herb sleep together now.”

“That’s exciting news, punkin.” Colin looked at T.C. and lifted his brows in question.

T.C. shrugged. “You’ll know it all by the time we get to the house. Our little Stella has turned into a regular chatterbox.”

Stella giggled. “You say that all the time. Aunt Sunday sleeps in Polly’s bed,” she announced, hardly taking a breath.

Buddy, wanting to be included, shyly wiggled his fingers into Colin’s other hand. Colin looked down at the small freckled
face looking up at him.

“Mr. Banks made a swing.”

“You don’t say? Would it hold me?”

“It holds Mr. Banks. Did ya go to fight Indians?”

“Naw.” Colin pulled a penny from his pocket and gave it to Buddy. “You and Stella run up to the store and tell Mr. Jenson
to give you a penny’s worth of candy.”

“Gee-whillikers!”

“Say thank you,” Stella reminded him sternly, when Buddy started to run away. “And wait for me.”

“Thanks, Mr. Tallman. C’mon, Stella—”

Colin watched them run toward the store.

“I was about Buddy’s age when my sister and I went to live with Addie Hyde. Until then we had been passed around like a couple
of unwanted pups.”

“The new teacher came in yesterday. School starts next week. Buddy swears he isn’t going, but he’ll go because Stella’s going.”

“Lettin’ a woman lead him around by the nose already.” Colin chuckled. “What’s the teacher like?”

“He’s a dressed-up little dandy—about this high.” T.C. held his hand up to his shoulder. “If some of the rowdy boys get the
upper hand, he’ll fizzle out.”

“You goin’ to let Jane help him?”

“Hell, no. He’ll sink or swim on his own. If he sinks, I’ll send for another. Rowe pays well. There shouldn’t be any trouble
finding one.”

They were almost to the house when Colin asked the question T.C. had been waiting for.

“Sunday moved to your place?”

“I asked her to help me keep an eye on Jane. She kept Bob Fresno from carrying Jane off. Shot him with that little pistol
she carries in her pocket. I owe her a big debt. Treat her right, or you’ll have not only me on your tail but all the women
in the house and nearly every man in town.” T.C. grinned.

“I meant it when I said I was goin’ to marry her. This has been the longest month of my life. I’ve cursed a hundred times
the day I met Patrice.”

T.C. grinned. “Ramon probably has, too.”

“Well, thank God, he’s the one stuck with her.”

They stepped up onto the porch. The door was flung open and Jane rushed out to welcome him.

From the upstairs window Sunday had watched the two tall men as they came down the street. She saw Stella and Buddy run toward
them and Colin toss the child in the air. She lost sight of them when they stepped up onto the porch but heard their voices
in the downstairs hall and opened the door so that she could hear what was being said.

“Mrs. Kilkenny, you’re prettier than I remembered.”

“Get your hands off my wife.” This was T.C.’s mockingly harsh voice.

“After I kiss her. Don’t be so stingy.”

“Stingy? You’re lucky I don’t shoot you.”

It’d save me the trouble
. Sunday opened the door wider.

“There ya are, ya big sabot! Soon as I turn my back, ya up and get yoreself a wife. Pretty one too. Do I get to kiss the bride,
Herb?”

Sunday let loose a snort of disgust.
Do I get to kiss the bride? Kissin’ wives is all ya been doin’, ya horny toad!

“Get ya a woman a yore own to kiss, Tallman. This ‘n’ s mine.” Herb’s voice overrode the laughter from Jane and T.C. and Maude.

“
You
didn’t get married while I was gone, did ya, Mrs. Henderson?”

“No. I was waitin’ for ya to come home to see if ya’d been asked for.”

“Not yet, but I will be. Want me to ask Bill for ya?”

“You do, and I’ll put croton oil in your gravy.”

I’d give him a load of buckshot in his rear!

“Where’s Sunday? Is she hidin’ from me?”

Sunday stepped back from the door.
Hiding? From a fornicating, wife-stealing mule’s ass? That’d be a cold day in hell!

“She’s upstairs.”

Maude, you traitor!

“Do I have your permission, Mrs. Kilkenny, to go up to my girl’s room if I leave the door open?”

My girl!
Sunday’s breath came from between her teeth in an angry hiss.

“I trust you’ll act the gentleman?”

“I won’t promise not to kiss her.”

Just try it, ya suck-egg mule!

Sunday heard a step on the stairs, then T.C.’s voice.

“Check her pocket to see if she has the pistol.”

“She won’t shoot me. She loves me.”

The pig-ugly, wife-stealing, conceited ass!

Sunday stepped back and slammed the door so hard that the house shook. She looked for something to push in front of the door.
The only thing was the washstand. She groaned when she picked it up because it was so light. The first rap on the door came
as she was putting it in place.

“Sunday, open the door.”

Silence.
She’d not answer if the blasted house was on fire.

“I want to talk to ya, Sunday.”

Go talk to Patrice Guzman Cabeza.

“I know what Patrice told you. I can explain.”

I bet you can. You’ve had a month to make up a story
.

“Patrice will be going back to New Mexico with her husband.”

That’s too bad. You’ll have to find another whore, you rutting moose!

“I don’t want to break down this door, but by God, I will. Now open the damn door. There’s things I want to say to you in
private.”

“Ya just try to break in that door. I’ll shoot you,” she yelled.

“At least ya haven’t forgot how to talk.”

“I’ve not
forgot
a dad-blasted thing, you… you chicken shit!”

“If you think a little old door will keep me away from you, you don’t know me very well.”

“I don’t know you a’tall. Now get the hell away from my door.”

BANG! The door flew open. The washstand tipped over, the tin basin went rolling, the pitcher hit the floor and bounced. Water
splashed on Sunday’s feet.

Colin stood looking at her. His blue eyes burned into hers.

“See what you made me do?”

“Oh, sure! I forced ya to break the door!” Her voice was tight and strained.

“Hello, Sunday,” he said pleasantly, as if they had just met.

“What do you want?” She eyed him with a peevish glare.

“You.”

“Ha!” she snorted, her lip curled in contempt

“I’m not the father of Patrice’s child. I’ve
never
been with her that way.”

“Ha!” Sunday snorted again, this time with disbelief. “Ever’ time ya open yore mouth, Tallman, I get a earache.”

He crossed the room in two long steps. He caught her in his arms and held her in a tight grip. She strugged like a wild thing
caught in a trap.

“I’ve thought of you every minute for more than a month that seemed like a year! Now, if I have to throw you down on the bed
and sit on you to make you listen to me, I will.” Catching her flailing hands in his as she swung to hit him, he forced them
behind her. She was strong, but he was stronger. “Why are you fighting me, for chrissake? You’re as glad to see me as I am
to see you.”

“Damn you! Let go of me.”

“Kiss me first.”

“I’d… sooner kiss a warthog!”

He laughed. “I’m crazy about you.”

“Horse-hockey!”

“I want everyone of our kids to be just like you.”

“Yo’re not gettin’ in my drawers if that’s what’s on your mind.”

“It
is
, and I
will
. But it’ll be after my name is tacked to the end of yours.”

“I’d sooner wed a… crazy three-legged buzzard.”

“I’m crazy about you,” he said again. “It’s been a hell of a month. I couldn’t wait to get back here to see you again.” His
voice lowered to a husky whisper. “Put your arms around my neck so I can kiss you.”

Joy began romping up and down her insides. The misery of the past few weeks began to fade.

“Tallman, yo’re—”

“Colin, Sunday. Sunday and Colin. That’s how I want it to be. Say you forgive me for leaving without a word. But you were
in no mood then to believe me, and I had to find Ramon and convince him I’d not slept with his wife.” “How’d ya do that?”

“I didn’t have to. He’d been having her followed. He knows, I imagine, who fathered her child, and he knows it wasn’t me.
Sweetheart, you’re all I want. The first time I saw you, I fell m love with you.”

Sunday looked searchingly at him, not yet believing, and then believing.

“Ya’ll have to turn loose my hands.” Her voice smiled. “If ya want me to kiss ya.”

When she was free, her arms moved up and around his neck. She felt a deep singing joy. Did he fed it too? Then she knew. His
hungry kisses covered her mouth and she returned each and every one. They went on and on in a rapturous union of eager mouths
and tongues. When she could catch her breath, she laughed at the urgency of his tips.

“Did yon miss me? Tell me,” he whispered insistently, but she could not speak with his mouth tight against hers. His hands
moved through her hair, down and over her back in soft rhythmic caresses.

Her hands stroked his cheeks; she nuzzled her face into his neck, inhating the masculine scent of him.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” he repeated.

“Yes, damn you! Yes, yes, yes. I misted you,” the de-dared with shameless intensity.

A grin lifted the comer of his mouth at her response; his eyes were soft with love for her.

“I love you. Does it shock you to hear me say it?”

“I ain’t easy shocked, Tallman. I been a waitin’ for ya to say h again.”

He held her so tight, she could feel every hard line in his body. He rubbed his face in her mop of blond curls. She was so
pretty, so sweet… so damned exciting. He was sure she could feel the hardness of his arousal against her, yet she hadn’t shied
away from it.

Sunday put her palms against his cheeks and looked into his eyes. “I love you, Tallman. Welcome home.”

The following weeks passed quickly. A stout warm cabin for Sunday and Colin was built in a week’s time. They were married
in the new church on a Sunday afternoon. Jane thought it fitting for Sunday to be married on a Sunday. The church was full
of well-wishers because Sunday was so well liked. Theda Cruise played the violin. No one seemed to think it strange that the
saloon keeper—she had become partners with Mr. Parker—was in the church playing sacred music.

After the elaborate wedding dinner prepared by Maude and Polly and a send-off from the family, Bill, and Tennihill, the couple
left for their cabin.

That night Jane was introduced to another custom that was even more foreign to her than the picnic that had been held after
Doc’s funeral.