“And what if I say you were wrong?” Samantha demanded.
“I would feel mighty damn guilty. In fact, I was feeling mighty damn guilty on the off chance that he was really just an innocent party. But not anymore, by God!”
Samantha stared at her father incredulously. “I think you’d better leave my room, father.”
“What?”
“I—said—leave!” she ground out slowly. “I’m not up to talking to you now. I’m tired, and I’m going to say something I’ll regret.”
“Oh, no, you don’t, Samantha.” Hamilton shook his head sternly. “You’re not going to avoid this. You’re going to tell me why you helped that man. Now I’ve called off my men for the time being, but—”
“Your men?” she shouted, her eyes sparkling with the fury she had tried to bottle up since first realizing it was Hank tied up in that barn. “Your paid killers, you mean! Do you realize I was in more danger last night facing those men of yours than I was the entire time of my kidnapping? I told them who I was, but that didn’t matter. I had to shoot two of them.”
“You what?!”
“Oh, did good old Nate forget to mention that, father?” she asked cuttingly. “Perhaps he also forgot to mention the condition of the man you let them torture? That you would allow them to do such a thing…”
The venom in her voice shocked him. “Now, Sam, nobody was tortured.”
“What do you call shooting him while he’s bound and helpless? Breaking his fingers and ribs? My God, I didn’t even recognize him!” she cried, tears springing to her eyes. “I looked right at him and didn’t know who he was.”
“Damn it, Samantha, I didn’t know they would go that far,” Hamilton protested.
“That’s no excuse!” she stormed. “You should never have turned him over to them. You must have known what they were.”
“All right,” Hamilton conceded uncomfortably. “So I made a mistake. But Nate assured me he could make Chavez talk. Don’t you see, Sam? I had to find El Carnicero. I had to make sure this never happened again.”
“You could have waited. I could have told you El Carnicero would never bother us again.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because there is no Carnicero.”
“Now, wait a minute—”
She cut off his protest impatiently. “Oh, there is a bandit by that name, but the real Carnicero never even heard of us. Hank only assumed that name.”
“Who the hell is Hank?”
“Chavez.”
“Antonio?”
“No, his cousin, Enrique.”
“But that is Antonio, Enrique Antonio de Vega y Chavez, the man I sold the land to.”
“No, father…”
Samantha stopped. She had heard that name before, but where? And then it hit her suddenly, too suddenly, and she paled. The priest! That was the name he had used when he married her to Hank.
All at once the pieces came crashing down on her as they fell into place. There was no cousin. It was Hank who wanted the land!
Why hadn’t he told her the truth? Looking back, she knew the answer.
“I’m glad he has the land, father.”
“Glad? You can’t be serious!” he gasped.
“I’m afraid I am. Oh, I love the land and I’ll miss living there. But it means more to Hank. It belonged to his family. It was his, really.”
“You’re saying the fellow I sold the land to is the one who kidnapped you? The leader of those bandits?”
“Yes.”
“Then why in blazes did you help him?”
“I don’t know,” she said quietly.
He waited for her to go on, and when she didn’t, he threw his arms up in disgust. “Well, that settles it. There’s no way in hell he’ll keep that land now, not with you able to identify him.”
“But I want him to have it.”
Hamilton shook his head. “I paid good money for—”
“He paid you didn’t he?” She cut him short.
“An IOU is all I’ve got!” Hamilton shouted.
“Then you honor it, and give him time to pay it. He obviously wants to pay for it. He didn’t have to. He didn’t have to come in here at all, risking himself. The land was already his.”
“A long time ago, maybe—”
“Now, father. It’s his now. He got it through me.” Samantha saw his confusion and reluctantly explained, “He’s my husband.”
They stared at each other for several long seconds before Hamilton turned on his heel. He was so disgusted that he had to leave the room or else strike Samantha. All these weeks of worrying, crazed with fear, while she went off and got herself married. Married to the man who kidnapped her!
But at the door he turned back to face her. The sight of her sitting on the bed, shoulders slumped, her head bent forward in utter dejection, dissolved his temper.
“Why, Sam? Just tell me why.”
Her head snapped up. “He forced me to marry him.”
“I’ll kill him!” Hamilton growled.
“No, father, let it go. I plan to divorce him. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“But the land will still be his.”
“I told you, damn it, I don’t want you to do anything about that.”
“What can I do? Whether you get a divorce or not, he’ll still have control of anything that came to him through the marriage.”
She started to laugh suddenly. Of course. That was why he had married her. And why he had said it wouldn’t matter if she divorced him.
“I don’t find this at all amusing, Sam. The man should be horsewhipped.”
“Yes, well, I’ve thought the same thing many times,” she admitted.
“He deserved what Nate and the boys did to him!” he continued, working up a fine rage.
Samantha sobered. “No, he didn’t deserve that,” she said sharply. “I’m sorry, father. It’s my own remorse I’m taking out on you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I hated him, hated him so much I was going to pay to have him beaten and killed. I would have, too, only—”
“Then all this is because I beat you to it?”
“No!” she cried painfully. “Don’t you understand? It tore me apart to see Hank like that. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it.”
“Just what are you saying, Sam?”
“I didn’t know I would feel this way. I could have been the one responsible for his suffering. That is my sorrow, father. And it doesn’t make it any easier that it wasn’t me, but you. It’s nearly the same thing. He’ll still blame me.”
“Do you think he’ll want revenge, then?”
“No. He has what he wanted. He had to pay a little extra for it, but the doctor said he should recover. He had better recover.” Her voice rose warningly.
“Why do you care, Sam? Just what has gone on between the two of you?”
She sighed. “A lot of fighting, father.”
“You said you hated him. Why? The kidnapping?”
“There were many reasons.”
“Damn it, Sam, do I have to spell it out?”
“All right, yes, he…seduced me,” she shouted. “But he married me, too. Only that’s just one of the reasons. I met him before I came home. I loved Adrien then, or I thought I did. But Hank revealed some ugly truths about Adrien, and I hated him for it. He took me, because I had used him to make Adrien jealous. He wanted me, and I used him. So he used me. I shot him, though. And I hated him.” She stopped as she realized her words were pouring out in jumbled confusion. “What does it matter: I don’t want revenge anymore. I just want to forget it all. Leave it alone, father. And leave Hank alone, too. He’s suffered enough—and so have I.”
Samantha curled up on the bed, then, turning her back on her father. She was utterly drained. She couldn’t explain any further. She would go crazy if she had to explain—or think—about Hank, and why her feelings were suddenly so different. Why, damn it, why?
&
nbsp; Chapter 37
HANK threw down the cards and leaned away from the table. “I am through for tonight, amigos, and probably for some time to come. I cannot afford these little pleasures.”
He said it with a grin, yet young Carlos, who had come with the other vaqueros and their families, was uncomfortable hearing his patrón admit to being in dire straits. It was hardly a secret that things were bad, yet to hear Don Enrique speak of it…. Carlos finished off his tequila and left the room.
Hank reached for the bottle on the table and filled his glass once again. “I suppose you think I should have kept my mouth shut?”
Lorenzo shrugged. “It is not for me to say.”
“Then get that frown off your face.”
They were alone in the room. It was only when they were alone that Hank felt free to drop all pretenses. Lorenzo grinned. He was getting used to these black moods.
“I think I will retire, amigo,” Lorenzo said lightly. “There is no talking to you when you get this way.”
“What way? There is nothing wrong with me.”
“You see.” Lorenzo made his point. “You cannot even admit a simple truth.”
Hank sighed. “What would you have me do? Complain constantly that things are not going as I expected? Or should I smile and pretend I have not failed miserably?”
“It might help if you stopped considering yourself to have failed. You have not. You have won, amigo. You have your hacienda. You have your people back.”
“I have them, but no means to pay them!” Hank replied irritably.
“Have you heard one complaint? No. They are happy to serve you, to be a part of a hacienda again, this one, where many of them were born, where most of them served your father. Things are not as they were in your father’s day, but it has only been two months since you came. Two months is not enough time to count your efforts a failure.”
“It is enough time to know that I am getting nowhere, Lorenzo. The old man left nothing, not one piece of furniture, not a single head of cattle, not even a bag of salt. It took all I had to buy basic supplies. I have my land, but I did not consider the thereafter.”
“The mines are producing,” Lorenzo reminded him. “And the gardens supply food. No one is starving.”
“It is not enough. And how long can I ask these people to go with less, when they are used to more? The mines may be producing, but a scant quantity, and at back-breaking effort, since Kingsley took the mine equipment, too. What profit there is goes to pay for the animals and wagons to transport the men to the mines. It will be a long time before I can buy proper equipment, longer still before I can get cattle. In the meantime—”
“In the meantime it is rough going, as it would be for anyone who starts from scratch. No one thought it would be any different, Hank. You are the only one dissatisfied with the progress you have made.”
Hank finished his drink, and a grin slowly curled his lips. “Why do you put up with me, mi amigo?”
Lorenzo smiled back. “I have nothing better to do.”
“But you work for nothing. And on top of that, you have to listen to me cry over my troubles. I am grateful for your help. I just do not understand why you give it. You paid your debt. You owe me nothing.”
“Ah, but there is a pretty muchacha here, Carlos’s hermana…” At Hank’s doubting look, Lorenzo gave up. “Está bien.” He shrugged. “I promised I would stay with you until you no longer had need of me.”
Hank gripped the empty glass. “You did not promise me, so I suppose you mean her?”
Lorenzo nodded.
“I will not believe that, Lorenzo, any more than I believed the other things you tried to tell me about her,” Hank said coldly. “Now, if you had said she paid you to spy on me, I would believe that.”
“It is me you insult with those words, not the woman,” Lorenzo replied quietly.
“I did not mean it that way. I just cannot believe what you say about her.”
“You cannot, or you do not want to?”
“I know her! That woman hates my guts!”
“Perhaps,” Lorenzo agreed, adding, “only it did not appear that way to me.”
“What would you call her shooting me, then?” Hank asked angrily.
“When? That night?”
“Yes, that night!”
Lorenzo shook his head. “Amigo, she was not in the barn when you were shot. I had only just brought her to the ranch.”
“But I saw…”
Hank paused, trying again to remember. He had seen Samantha, gun in hand, not a speck of mercy in her fiery green eyes. He carried that memory, the last vision he had had before he woke up in the doctor’s house. Was it only a vision? He had seen the miner there, too, and that surely was a vision.
“All right, maybe I only imagined she shot me,” Hank admitted grudgingly. “But there is no way in hell I will believe she helped you get me out of there.”
“It was I who helped her. I would not have had the courage to go into the barn alone.”
“You are being modest,” Hank insisted sharply. “Why will you not admit you did it alone?”
“Dios mío, because I did not!” Lorenzo replied in exasperation. “If Sam had not faced those men, you would probably be dead. We did not know it was you they had. I had no reason to interfere.”
“But you did.”
“Because she shot one of them, and I went in to help her, to see if I could get her out of there before she was jumped. Then I saw you, and told Sam. You see, she did not know the man she was attempting to help was you.”
“Now if you had told me that before, I might have believed you,” Hank returned. “I can see her helping some poor fool, but not me. I suppose she was delighted to see me strung up?”
“When she realized it was you,” Lorenzo explained fast, because Hank had never let him get this far before, “not even I expected such a reaction. She collapsed at your feet and was sick.”
“Damn it, Lorenzo—”
“No. This time you will hear it all. I have no reason to lie to you, Hank. I have no reason to tell it differently than the way it happened. I admit freely that I was as frightened when Sam broke down as I was when I was nearly hanged. She lost control completely, leaving me to hold them off. I knew I could not do it alone. My courage had come from her. But I quickly saw that they were even more frightened of her as she bent at your feet, mumbling and moaning. It showed that you meant a great deal to her.”
“Nonsense.”
“I am only saying what I believe went through their minds, for it is surely what I thought. She was a woman with a gun in her hand, a dangerous woman with reason to kill them all.
“She goaded one of the men. He drew, and she smoothly shot the gun from his hand. There were no more protests after that. She was in complete control, giving orders, seeing that you were cut down. She even ordered me to leave with you, to go on ahead, but I came back for her, of course.”
“All right, Lorenzo, why? Why would she do this?”
He shrugged. “I did not ask. She is your wife. It seemed natural to me. It is not my business.”
“Marrying her did not change how she felt about me,” Hank returned, but his friend changed the subject.
“She waited with me for hours that night while the doctor worked on you, until he said you would live. Then she came to see you late the next day, but you were still unconscious. She left when you began to mumble in your sleep.”
“What did I say?”
“A name,” Lorenzo replied, grinning. “Another woman’s name.”
Hank frowned. “Did you talk to her after that?”
“Not for long.”
“Did she say why she did not have me arrested?”
“No.”
“Damn it, what did she say?”
“Only that no one would contest your right to the land. And she made me promise to stay with you.”
“She knew the land was sold to me?”
“Sí.”
&nb
sp; “Dios, now it all makes sense,” Hank said quietly, anger surfacing again. “She pitied me.”
Lorenzo kept quiet.
“She knew the land was stolen long ago. She felt sorry for my ‘cousin,’ and now she feels sorry for me. Perdición!” Hank swore. “I do not want her pity. I will give this land back before I let that woman pity me!”
Lorenzo was amazed. “What does it matter? She has gone her way, and you have gone yours. You have what you wanted.”
“This is more important.”
“Why?”
“Because it is!”
Lorenzo watched as Hank stormed from the room. He knew the root of his friend’s discontent. It was not the hardships they were having, but Samantha Kingsley Chavez, his wife.
Chapter 38
“WHO in hell let you in here?” Hamilton Kingsley demanded. He rose from behind his desk, his face reddening. “Never mind. Just get out, Chavez. Get out!”
Hank ignored the order and moved closer to Kingsley’s desk. “I come for a purpose, señor.”
“Revenge? I should have guessed.”
“No.” Hank cut him off. “Not for revenge. I have chosen to forget the time I spent here.”
“Why?” Hamilton asked suspiciously.
“As you can see, I have recovered,” Hank answered, his tone level. “And I am a fair man. I will concede that you were justified.”
“More than justified, considering the true extent of your crimes. If I had known then what I know now—”
“That is neither here nor there, señor. The fact is, you had the opportunity to have me arrested, but you did not take advantage of it. I can only conclude that you have decided to forget the whole affair, as I have.”
“Not by choice, mister,” Hamilton returned coldly. “If I’d had my way, you’d be rotting in prison for the rest of your miserable life!”
“Then why?”
“Because that’s the way Sam wanted it.”
“Why?”
“Who the hell knows!” Hamilton blustered. “What does it matter to you? You’re free. You got what you wanted.”
Hank frowned. Both this man and his friend Lorenzo thought he should be satisfied. Neither of them knew how important it was for him to find out why Samantha had taken his side.