Authors: Leigh Greenwood
“Okay.” She held out her arms, wrists together, like it no longer mattered what he did.
“Would you like to mount up first?”
“Okay.”
She climbed into the saddle and immediately held out her wrists again. After checking to make sure the abrasions were healing, he tied them with fresh strips of soft rawhide. But his interest seemed to be more in the expression on her face than the tightness of the knots.
“We’re going to have to move fast to make up lost time.”
“Okay.”
“Let me know if you need to stop for anything.”
“I will.”
Trinity didn’t trust this new tactic. He was afraid the change was merely another attempt to get him off balance so she could escape, and he didn’t care for the monosyllables or the set, empty expression on her face. He had come to expect fiery anger, strong language, open opposition. He didn’t know what to do with stony silence. When she kept glancing behind her, he was certain she had something up her sleeve.
They had been on the trail less than fifteen minutes when she cursed and snatched the reins from his slackened grip.
“Red is following us. I’ve got to stop him,” she said and headed back the way they had come at a gallop.
Trinity was at her side in a half dozen strides, his hand on her horse’s bridle.
“Let me go alone,” Victoria asked. “I don’t want any gun-play.”
“You won’t get any from me.”
“Maybe, but I don’t trust Red.”
Trinity stayed slightly ahead of her.
“At least ride behind me.”
“I don’t hide behind women.”
“You would have earlier.”
This is different.”
“I don’t see how” Victoria said, giving up once more trying to understand this man who had so completely overturned her life. “I just don’t want Red hurt. He’s too young to think before he acts. He still sees me as the enchanted princess and you as the evil knight.”
“Not a very flattering picture.”
“How would you feel in his shoes?”
Trinity didn’t answer.
“I’m not going back,” Red said when they drew up in front of him. “And you can’t make me.”
At any other time, his youthful belligerence would have amused Victoria. He looked so much like the protective younger brother she never had, but there was too much at stake now to trust to his volatile temper.
“Uncle Grant promised not to send anybody.”
“He didn’t. When he said I couldn’t come, I quit.”
“Why?”
“I don’t trust him,” Red said, indicating Trinity.
“I promised nothing would happen to her.”
“You’re taking her back to jail, aren’t you?” the boy suddenly exploded. “I consider that something.”
“Have you ever been to Texas?”
Red shook his head.
“How will you get there? I’m not taking you.”
“I ain’t asking you to. I ain’t
asking
anything. I’m telling you I’m following you all the way, and you’d better keep your promise.”
“Isn’t there anything I can do to make you go back?” Victoria asked.
“Nothing. I got no job. I got nothing to do but follow you.”
“Do you have any money?”
“I got enough.”
Victoria knew he didn’t. Her uncle wouldn’t have paid off on the trail.
“Come on,” Trinity said to Victoria. “We’re wasting time.”
Victoria didn’t turn away from Red.
“Don’t worry about me none” the boy assured her. “I’ll be right behind you.”
It was hard not to smile at his earnestness, but not a muscle in Victoria’s face moved. It would have crushed his pride.
“Let us know if you need help.”
“I’ll be the one giving the help,” Red said, glaring at Trinity.
They left him men, Trinity riding along at a fast trot.
“Seems Arizona is full of men all raring to throw up everything for you,” he said. “I used to think Queenie was the best I’d ever seen, but I think you got her beat.”
“I have no idea who this Queenie is, but I gather from the way you say her name, the comparison isn’t flattering.”
“Depends,” Trinity said. “Queenie was good. She never said so, at least not to me, but I’ll bet she took pride in every sucker she reeled in.”
“Am I supposed to be ‘reeling in’ Red?” Victoria asked, her voice tight with anger.
“I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I don’t know what the hell you’re up to. You’re the most confusing female I ever set eyes on. First you’re the darling, spoiled daughter of a very rich man who dies and leaves you a fortune. Then you marry the only son of a richer man, only you shoot him. Then your uncle, another rich man who has no relative but you, rescues you from jail. Now you have every cowhand on his ranch, and everyone in Arizona for all I know, ready to lay down his life for you. You keep Buc panting after you for five years because you can’t bear to tell him you don’t love him. You let the whole shooting match come after you knowing there’s bound to be killing, then you tell me you’ve decided to go to Texas because you can’t stand to see anybody you love killed. Does that include that poor, deluded Irishman?”
“Of course it does.”
“How many more men do you love?” Trinity was embarrassed with himself. He was acting like a jealous lover.
“Do you always twist people’s words?”
“Not honest people’s.”
“As many lies as you tell, how can you tell the difference?”
“I only lie when I have to.”
“A lie is a lie, no matter why you tell it.”
“How about you?”
“I haven’t told any lies, to you or anybody else. Nobody except myself.” She smiled unexpectedly. “Funny, it was your lies which stopped me lying to myself.”
“How’s that?” Trinity asked. He didn’t know what she was talking about.
“All that stuff you told me back at the ranch, about other people and places and having a future and hope. They were lies, but they woke me up to the lies I’d been telling myself. You see, I’d told myself since no one believed me it was all right to run away, that I didn’t mind living with fear. I also told myself I was happy in Mountain Valley, that I would marry Buc and settle down to be a good wife and mother. I told myself it was all right to live with the charge of cowardice and murder hanging over my head. I told myself I didn’t care what others thought of me, that I could be happy there the rest of my life.”
“And what I said caused you to change your mind?”
“Oh, you didn’t mean to do anything admirable. You only wanted to get me off guard so you could kidnap me. You succeeded. You can take pride in that.”
But he couldn’t. Nothing she did made any sense.
Unless she was telling the truth.
But if she were telling the truth about this, was she also telling the truth about the murder?
If she were telling the truth, everything made sense …
except the murder
.
Trinity shook his head to clear it of the speculation buzzing furiously in his brain. He couldn’t be mistaken in her character. The whole basis for what he did, his choice of people to bring in, the way he handled each situation—everything depended on his evaluation of the criminal involved. Never before had he been mistaken. Never before had he had cause to doubt his judgment. But he did now.
Suddenly the wall he had erected in his mind crumbled and the enormity of what he had been about to do struck him. He had been taking her back to die! It wasn’t Sheriff Sprague, Judge Blazer, the jury, or the Texas system of jurisprudence. It was he, Trinity Smith. He might as well have placed the noose around her neck with his own hands. He shuddered in horror.
Involuntarily, Trinity glanced at Victoria. She might be an outlaw to society, but like the cougar and the grizzly bear, she was a thing of wild beauty. It seemed a shame to squander it.
Like a wildflower bursting open to greet the warmth of a spring morning, she seemed too perfect to last. The delicate hint of mauve in her cheeks, the deep rose of her lips, the titian of her hair, all must fade before the searing heat of summer. He wanted to sit and stare at her, to drink it all in, before it slipped away.
It seemed like every man who knew her agreed with him. They were falling over themselves to fight for her. He had no difficulty understanding that. Hadn’t he already done the same?
Why? Because there was something good and honest and admirable about her which made him want to protect her.
“Do you think he’ll keep his word?” he asked Victoria, desperate to forget the doubts that nagged him.
“Red? I hope so, but I don’t know him very well. Buc keeps the men in the saddle most of the time. Anyway the young ones tend to keep their distance. Sometimes the ones who stay the farthest away are the ones most affected.”
“Do you think any of the others will join him?”
“I don’t know.”
“For a woman’s who’s the center of attention for a dozen men, you know very little.”
“What do you expect?” Victoria shot back. “You’ve never been an unmarried woman living in the midst of so many men—”
“I’ve known a few who were.”
“—or you’d know they enjoy engaging in fantasies. Everybody dreams of having his own ranch, of marrying a beautiful woman, especially when they could achieve both in a single stroke. Well they can’t help but think about it.”
“Modest young woman, aren’t you?”
“Do you want answers to your questions or do you want polite, ladylike denials like, ‘how could little old me possibly know what a great big man like you is talking about!’“
Her parody of an artful southern beauty brought a smile to his lips.
“Got it down pat, don’t you?”
“Every southern girl does. Just like every man learns to act like a tough
hombre
before he’s old enough to wear boots. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you imbibed it with your mother’s milk.”
“Mine disapproved.”
“Then it’s a good thing she’s not around to see how you turned out. Men like you are worse man lepers. You feed off other people’s misfortune, and you don’t even have the heart to see what you’re doing.”
“You seem to have conveniently forgotten the misery of your husband’s parents and brother. What about the son and brother they lost?”
“
You
seem to forget I was Jeb’s wife. What about my sense of loss, my feelings, my hurt?”
“Since you coolly put a shot into his head in the middle of a party-”
“I did not kill Jeb!” Victoria said loud enough to cause her horse to throw up its head. “And for the record, Myra is Judge Blazer’s second wife. Kirby is her son. But I don’t expect you to believe anything I say”
They rode in silence for the rest of the afternoon.
“I’ll cook if you’ll untie my hands,” Victoria said as Trinity helped her down from the horse.
“So you’ve finally decided to talk.”
“I’m a better cook,” Victoria said. “Besides, you’ve got the horses to tend to.”
He hesitated.
“I promise I won’t run away, and I won’t throw hot grease on you. I’m too tired to run very far even if I wanted to. All I want is something decent to eat. Then I want to sleep as long as I can.”
Trinity untied her wrists. He felt the reoccurring sense of shame when he saw the raw places on her skin.
“I’ve got some salve for that.”
“I’ll be okay unless you plan to tie me up again tomorrow.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m going to take your word you won’t try to run away.”
“Why the sudden trust?”
“I don’t know. I have an awful feeling I’m making a fool of myself, but I can’t see why you’d send your uncle back if you intended to escape.”
“I’m glad to see common sense can penetrate your brain after all.”
“My common sense tells me you’re lying,” Trinity responded more roughly than he’d intended. “It tells me nobody would be willing to go back to jail. It’s screaming at me right now that your uncle must be out there somewhere, that Red is a spy to keep us under surveillance, that sometime during the night they’re going to come down on us and my body will be left for the wolves.”
“Then why did you untie my hands?”
“Because I got the same lessons with my mother’s milk as Red back there. My father drummed it into my head that I should respect every female, treat her as a lady, defend her with my life. I keep thinking about my mother. She wouldn’t have hurt a fly unless it was about to hurt me or my father. Then I think she would have taken on the Mexican army by herself. Anyhow, I keep thinking how I would feel to see her riding with her wrists tied up, her skin all torn up by the rope.
“I also think about what you said to those men back there. I don’t know if you meant what you said, but any woman who could do that deserves a little trust.”
“Do you have a hard time trusting all women, or am I the only one?”
“I don’t trust anybody. But I guess I have a harder time with women.”