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Authors: Leigh Greenwood

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The tension in the room was almost tangible. Trinity could see Grant had brought the discussion to an end, and he guessed Buc was barely able to keep a rein on his tongue. He didn’t know what Victoria thought, but she didn’t seem to mind the idea.

That was enough for now. He stood up.

“Thanks for the pie, Miss Victoria. I don’t know when I’ve tasted any half as good.”

“You still want a second piece?” Victoria asked, the tension gone from her eyes.

“I’ll save it for tomorrow. That ought to make sure I don’t get lost.”

“If you didn’t get lost from Texas to Arizona, I doubt you’ll get lost between here and the bunkhouse.”

Trinity grinned in response. “Not with Buc here to guide me.”

“I wouldn’t depend on that too much. The way he’s looking at you right now he’s liable to lead you right off the mountainside.”

“Buc doesn’t dislike you,” Grant told Trinity for the second time. “He just doesn’t trust you yet.”

“I can understand that” Trinity said, “but surely he knows I’d do everything I could to protect Miss Victoria.”

“Well see,” growled Buc, stymied for the moment. “Let’s get you settled.”

Trinity followed Buc to the bunkhouse. He could see the anger in the man’s stride, the stiffness of his carriage, the hurry with which he expected Trinity to follow. Like he wanted to get him settled in the bunkhouse and then wash his hands of him.

Trinity didn’t plan to be dismissed that easily. He had a job to do, and he didn’t mean to let anyone stand in the way.

And that included Buc.

“You can take your pick of the bunks” Buc said when they reached the bunkhouse. He had
escorted
Trinity in silence. But for some reason, the bunkhouse loosened his tongue. “Let’s get a few things straight. I don’t trust you, and I don’t like you either. I don’t know why, I just don’t. And I’m a man who always goes with his instincts.”

That’s okay with me,” Trinity said, as he tossed his gear on the bunk nearest him. “I tend to do the same thing myself.”

“Well your instincts had better not cause you to start sniffing around Victoria. She’s going to marry me, and I won’t have any man nosing around my woman.”

Trinity looked him in the face. “I can’t imagine Victoria would be any man’s
woman,
however much she might want to be his wife.”

“I don’t care what you imagine. You won’t be here long enough for it to make any difference.”

“What makes you say that? This looks like a good place to work.”

Buc’s expression turned grim. “You said you planned to move on as soon as you got a grubstake together.”

“I did at first,” Trinity said, lowering himself on his bed and stretching out his full length, a grin calculated to annoy Buc on his face. A soft mattress covering the boards made the bunk more comfortable than he’d expected, and Trinity let his body relax. After sleeping on the rocks and hard ground, this felt almost as good as a San Francisco hotel. “I never stayed too long in one place, but I think I’m going to like it here.”

“Now look here—” Buc started.

He never finished. Trinity exploded off the bed. Before Buc knew what had happened, he found himself nose-to-nose with a very different kind of man from the easygoing stranger who had lain down on the bed just seconds before.

“You listen to me” Trinity said, his voice soft, his eyes dark, his body tensed for action. “I don’t like being threatened. You’re welcome to dislike me as much as you want—I don’t much care for you either—but I won’t be threatened. I’ll do any job you give me, and I’ll do it over if I don’t get it right the first time, but you keep riding me, and I’m going to be all over you like a coyote on a jackrabbit. You hear?”

“Yeah, I hear,” Buc said, as though he’d heard it all before and wasn’t the least bit impressed. But he stepped back, a silent admission he had overstepped his limits. “You just keep in mind I oversee this outfit. Mr. Davidge might have given you the job, but you’re going to have to work for me to keep it.”

“Does that mean you’re changing my work orders for tomorrow?” A challenge flashed in Trinity’s eyes.

“Mr. Davidge is the boss. If he tells you to keep an eye on Victoria, then that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. Though I would have supposed he would have picked someone he knew he could trust.”

“You meaning to hire more hands?”

“Not if I can help it. I’d rather work everybody until they drop than bring in another man. Might be like a man we hired a few years back. Nearly didn’t find out until it was too late.”

“Didn’t find out what?”

“He’d been sent to take Victoria back. He was the second one.”

“What happened?”

“We got rid of him.”

Trinity didn’t have a chance to ask any more questions before Buc stormed out of the bunkhouse, but the question continued to burn in his mind. Would Grant or Buc, or both, kill a man rather than let Victoria go back to stand trial? He hoped not. He didn’t much care for Buc, but he had taken a liking to Grant.

Besides, this valley didn’t feel like a killer’s hideout. Neither Victoria nor her uncle acted like they had anything to fear from strangers, but then they didn’t need to. Buc was suspicious enough for both of them.

Trinity couldn’t find it in himself to blame any man for doing whatever he had to do to protect Victoria. Men had robbed, cheated, and killed for less beautiful women. Scaring off strangers seemed almost harmless by comparison. He certainly wouldn’t be too particular about what he did if Victoria were his woman.

The thought caught Trinity by surprise. After Queenie, he had sworn he’d never let another woman have any power over him. Despite the many beautiful women he’d known, and the several who would have been willing to forsake everything for him, he had kept his vow.

There could be do doubt Victoria killed her husband. The evidence said it couldn’t have been anybody else. So there must be a good reason why she did it. Oddly enough, Trinity felt compelled to find out what it was.

Don’t be a fool. Your job is to bring her back, not understand why she did what she did. That’s what the jury was for, and they’ve already made their decision
.

But Trinity couldn’t rest. He turned over several times, trying to find a more comfortable position. He knew the fault didn’t lay with the bed. The trouble lay in his head.

He didn’t yet understand why, but he couldn’t just take Victoria back to Texas and forget about her. Even though it couldn’t make any difference, even though it wasn’t part of his job, he had to know
why
she did it.

But how could he find out?

Trinity didn’t get a chance to explore that question. Without warning the bunkhouse door flew open with a noisy crash. In a flash, Trinity dropped to the ground, his gun drawn.

Chapter Three

 

A Mexican, short, thick waisted, and fortyish, entered the bunkhouse. He leaned on a skinny, carrot-topped, freckle-faced boy for support. For a moment the three men stared at each other. Trinity spoke first.

“Sorry for the chilly welcome. You surprised me.”

“Who’re you?” the kid demanded. “And what are you doing here?” He didn’t look more than eighteen, fresh-faced but wary.

“The name’s Trinity Smith. I just hired on.”

“Buc never hired you,” the kid said, openly suspicious.

“Mr. Davidge hired me against Buc’s advice.”

“That I believe,” said the Mexican. He hobbled to the nearest bunk and lowered himself carefully. His bronzed, leathery skin and permanently bowed legs branded him a man of the range. His skeptical black eyes and piercing gaze said he wouldn’t be fooled easily. “He needs to hire new
vaqueros
to replace old men like me.”

“You’ll be as good as new in a couple of days,” the boy said, his fondness for the old man easy to hear despite the gruffness in his voice. “Just make sure you stay off that leg.”

“How will you manage? You have nobody to ride with you.”

“Maybe Buc will let me ride with him,” Trinity said to the Mexican. “I don’t know the layout of the ranch, but I’m better than an empty saddle.”

“I don’t need no stranger making free behind my back” the boy said. He wasn’t exactly hostile, but close enough to suit Trinity.

“Forgive our manners,” the old man asked. “We worry every stranger is after the
senorita.”

“Now that I work for the Mountain Valley, she’s my worry, too.

The old man responded with a cautious smile.

“I am Perez Calderon. My sister keeps house for
Senor
Grant. That is the only reason Buc keeps me. This young
gringo
is Michael O’Donavan.” He tousled the boy’s hair. “We call him Red.”

“Would you like me to have a look at that leg?” Trinity asked.

“There is no need. My horse fell on me and pinned my leg under him. He would have broken it if Red had not got to me so fast. It would not happen if Buc would hire more men. We work so hard we get careless.”

“Is that what you meant a minute ago?” Trinity asked.

“Si. Buc
is not hiring anybody now. When he does, he will hire only old men, ugly
hombres
like me, or young
gringos
like Red.” He winked and nodded his head in the direction of the house.

Trinity smiled in understanding. “Too young or too old.”

“Buc means to marry
Senorita
Davidge.”

“He already told me.”

“Nothing wrong in that,” Red piped up. “A man would have to be crazy out of his mind not to want to marry Miss Victoria.”

Trinity’s gaze appraised the young man. Earnest. Idealistic. Temper probably as hot as his hair. He might be able to get a few more answers if he prodded the boy a little.

“I got to admit Victoria’s a fine-looking young woman, but I don’t think I’d like to be married to her.”

“She’s
Miss Victoria
to the likes of you,” Red snapped. “And you’d jump at the chance to marry her.”

“Naw. I don’t think I could lie comfortable in my bed married to a woman who killed her husband.”

The words were hardly out of Trinity’s mouth before Red had covered the space that separated their bunks, his drawn gun inches from the bridge of Trinity’s nose.

“Take that back, or I’ll kill you where you sit,” he said, his young voice no more than a harsh growl.

Trinity never expected anything like that. The boy was like lightning. Trinity doubted he was as fast.

“Easy, Red,” Perez cautioned. “No call to get upset. He is an outsider. You cannot expect him to know the
senorita
like we do.”

“He’s got to take it back,” Red said, too angry to be swayed by reason or caution. “Nobody’s going to say Miss Victoria’s a murderer. The boys will kill to protect her. You’ll be expected to do the same thing.”

“But if she killed that man …”

“She didn’t kill nobody.”

The words sounded like those of a youth in passionate defense of an idealized love.

That pure, sweet girl could not kill her husband,” Perez said. “Anybody can see that just looking at her. Judge Blazer paid the jury to convict her. He did not even let Mr. Davidge bring a lawyer or make an investigation.”

They had a trial.”

There was no
trial”
Perez told Trinity. The judge already decide everything. He have to hang somebody, so he choose
Senorita
Davidge. He say they find her with a gun in her hand.”

“But if she held the gun …”

“She didn’t fire it,” Red insisted. “Somebody else killed Jeb Blazer, and Miss Victoria got blamed for it.”

Trinity let the old Mexican tell him every detail of the efforts Grant made to postpone the trial, of the people he contacted, the conflicting evidence he turned up about that night. But like everyone else, Perez ignored the fact that Victoria was found holding the gun with nobody else around. To him, Victoria was innocent. Period.

Just like with Red.

Trinity had to admit it was difficult for him to see Victoria in the role of a killer, but not for the same reason. He didn’t see her as a weak, helpless woman afraid of her husband or of a gun. Killers were usually timid people who saw murder as the only way out of an unbearable situation, people so greedy for power or money they would do anything to get more, or cruel, heartless brutes who killed because of their contempt for human life.

Victoria didn’t seem to fit into any of those categories, but Trinity reminded himself he knew nothing about her except she grew beautiful flowers and baked a marvelous pecan pie. No telling what she had been like five years ago. A girl could change a lot between seventeen and twenty-two. Still, it didn’t fit.

“I didn’t know all of that,” Trinity said. “Her uncle said they had plans to hang her, had the scaffold all ready. I just figured the jury must have found her guilty.”

“They paid them to lie,” Red said, the gun barrel now pressed against the skin between Trinity’s eyes. “Now take it back.”

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