Ride The Wild Wind (Time Travel Historical Romance) (33 page)

There was of no use crying over Antonio. He was battling his own demons
and spiraling downward into a pit of lost causes. Time was running out. Soon,
soldiers would arrive. If Antonio continued this insane fight, he’d be killed.
Right now, she had to think of the future. Of the children. And the baby
.

“Fine. Leave, Antonio,” she muttered under her breath as copious tears
poured from her eyes. “I don’t need you and you obviously don’t need me
anymore, but I will protect these children. And another thing, mister—” She
raged at the empty doorway. “I’m not leaving without them. They’re my family
now, too, and they’re going with me to Albuquerque—to Elena Costanza’s. We
won’t be here when you get back, so deal with
that
. ”

* * * * *

 Antonio hastily departed their hogan, anguish squeezing at his
chest. He had not meant his harsh words, but for Halle’s sake he tried to be
convincing. No one in camp frowned upon their living arrangements. In fact,
Halle’s adoptive parents were thrilled at the possibility of having future
grandchildren. But if Halle believed it was over between them and that he
planned to return her to civilization, perhaps she would not do anything
foolish like attempt a treacherous trip alone to Albuquerque. To ensure she’d
not run away in his absence, he’d ask Tani to stay with her and Lukachukai in
the hogan to keep a watch over her until his return.

True, he was stunned when she first confessed she had come from the
future, although he already believed this in his heart. From the beginning,
Sonny claimed she had traveled the stars. It wasn’t the bizarre attire she’d
worn, or the fancy words she used which aroused his suspicion. She knew
details—dates, places and names in The People’s war for freedom—facts no
outsider was privileged to.

But the other day, his cousin told him something more disturbing. Halle
was not The People’s destiny as he had previously believed. She was Antonio’s.
And his cousin urged him to leave their band and take Halle and the children
away to safety.  

They would go to Rancho de los Santos in California, the ancestral home
of his grandfather. From there, they would begin a new life together.

While he would have preferred to spare her heartache, he’d no choice but
to be cruel. She hadn’t believed him when he told her Elena was planning to
sell her. Besides, it was too dangerous for anyone to travel the main routes to
Albuquerque. Navajo scouts recently returned and reported spying garrisons
along the major roads leading in and out of the city. It was also true what she
revealed a few weeks before about neighboring tribes tracking The People. After
weeks of surveillance, he, too, discovered the cavalry had enlisted the aid of
the Utes, one of the Navajo’s sworn enemies.

Since he suspected Halle’s pregnancy, he could not in good conscience
risk jeopardizing another innocent life. They were reasonably safe in their
mountain refuge for a week, perhaps longer. She’d be safe with his family in
the event he was killed or captured. So would his unborn child.

He tumbled dozens of questions through his mind. Which room at Elena’s
had been hers? Would Rosa or Pedro tell him, or would they turn him in for the
reward? Would Halle’s money still be hidden in the drapery lining? Too many questions
remained unanswered.

After he led the men to yet another hidden weapon’s cache higher into
the mountains—a two day operation at best—he’d double back and head southeast
toward Albuquerque. He prayed the money was still safely there. Once he retrieved
the cash, he would secure a wagon load of supplies and head back to the
Chuska’s one last time. Then, they would leave immediately—he, Halle and the
children—departing for California before the first snowfall.

He prayed Halle would understand, and that in time she would forgive
him.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Out of breath and pouring sweat from two minutes of vigorous humping,
Frank Cole crawled off the dead whore and dragged himself across the filthy,
oak plank floor. The bitch had put up one hell of a fight, though he rather
liked that in a woman. Still, he hadn’t meant to snap her neck. But when he
wouldn’t pay her for the lousy job she’d done the first time, she’d gone crazy
on him and started throwin’ things and shoutin’ at the top of her lungs. He’d no
choice but to silence her.

Using a chair as leverage, he lifted himself to his feet and scratched
his itchy red genitals. He needed more sulfur salve and soon. He glanced over
at Myra Mae’s sprawled, plump body, her enormous breasts and thick, meaty thighs
spread wide. Not the kind of woman he’d pick if he had any choice in the
matter. Sometimes a man had just to settle on what was available.

He pulled on his britches, then rifled through Myra’s bureau drawers and
found a small tin box filled with cash. He’d stolen more the other day from the
register after shooting that lyin’ store owner in Union City. That’d teach the
old weasel to keep that red-headed niece of his a post office slot in his
establishment. Now he knew for sure she’d survived Jack Dudley’s attack months
before and had been blackmailing him. It took a while to get the truth out of
the old man, but once he’d cut off a couple of fingers, the old fella’d been
right cooperative. The man told him she’d paid him regularly to keep quiet on
her whereabouts.

Frank bet that damned Elena Costanza was in on this scheme, too. And
that uppity whore was gonna get everything she had coming to her, too.

He didn’t bother to count the money he’d stolen from the mercantile.
Didn’t care to. He hadn’t gone there with the intention of robbing the place.
He just wanted to know where them blackmailing letters had originated, and
where his money was being wired to.

He stuffed his pants pockets full of coins and bills. Using the back of
his hand, he wiped the whore’s greasy lip rouge from his mouth. If he rode hard
he might make it to Albuquerque in three days. And then there was gonna be some
reckonin’ with the high and mighty Elena Costanza.

He opened the door and turned to look back at Myra Mae one last time. Her
death gaze was wide, her rouged mouth gaped open. “I’d thank you for the good
time, darlin,’” he said with a chuckle, “but you wasn’t any good.”

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a coin and tossed it at her.
“Here’s a little somthin’ for your trouble, sugar. Buy yourself somethin’
purty.”

He set his hat on his head and closed the door behind him.

* * * * *

By the light of the nearly full moon Halle and Tani loaded saddlebags
filled with jerked meat, roasted ears of corn and pinion nuts for the trip to
Albuquerque.

“We’ll be safe at Elena’s,” Halle reassured a nervous Tani for the
umpteenth time as they wrapped more dried food bundles in clean skins and tied
them with leather cord. At least she hoped Elena would welcome her and the
children. “I have a lot of money hidden in my old room at Elena’s parlor. We
can rent a building in town and set up a boutique.”

“What if this Elena woman turns us in to the soldiers?”

“She won’t. Besides, we have no other choice. Soldiers are coming to the
Chuskas soon.”

“Antonio will be angry when he discovers we left.”

“The way I see it, he’s already pissed at me. How much worse could it
get?”

Tani
lowered her eyes. “My mother will cry for me.”

“Your mother will cry more if you are dead or locked in a detention
camp. At least in Albuquerque, we’ll be safe.”

“Are you certain this woman can be trusted?”

Halle wasn’t, but taking a chance was a suitable alternative to their
impending situation. Still, she hadn’t figured out a story for Elena and
supposed she’d work on a whopper of a tale while they traveled. If the madam
knew Antonio had abducted her that day, or suspected she’d become his lover
during her months away, Elena might toss her and the children out in the street
like the contents of her chamber pot.

Hopefully with the note she left for Antonio, he’d play into her game
once he returned from his latest raid and follow her straight to Albuquerque.
At least she was counting on it.

With Rosa’s help, she’d hide the children and hire a driver to deliver a
wagon filled with food and blankets back to The People. If, or when Antonio
arrived, she and the children would plead for him to take them to his
grandfather’s ranch in California.

She blew out an exhaustive breath and hefted another bag onto the
horse’s back.  “We need to move quickly. Since Antonio will probably
return in a couple of days, we have to leave tonight to get a head start.
Later, when everyone is asleep, I want you to quietly awaken Diego and have him
join us. I’ll pack Lukachukai’s things when I return to the hogan.”

 Tani nodded.

* * * * *

Elena Costanza donned her finest red silk peignoir, her newest treasure
from Paris. She posed before her dressing table and practiced seductive facial
expressions. In the mirror’s reflection she watched Lola gather her clothes
from the wardrobe. She admired the young woman’s nude form, her round little
bottom and long shapely legs. Regrettably, she must send her lover away and
prepare for Antonio’s arrival, later tonight the telegram had stated.

She folded her arms across her bosom and thought of his last visit. He
had taken the girl the day soldiers arrived. She’d watched from her window, her
heart ripping into pieces as he lifted that little red haired bitch onto the
horse’s back and swung up behind her. She never questioned if he had slept with
her. Of course he had. She was pretty and young. Virginal.

She sighed and tossed her head back, forcing a smile. Even if he had
enjoyed the girl, he would tire of her soon if he already hadn’t. She licked a
finger and touched up a stray tendril of hair at her temple. No woman could
compare to her own beauty, or her exceptional skills in the bedroom. Besides,
Antonio always returned to her when he grew bored of his latest woman. He
always would.

He’d sent a telegram yesterday letting her know he would be arriving
late tonight and she wanted to be prepared. That meant getting Lola occupied
with another task and out of the way for a while.

In the mirror’s image, Elena watched her young lover dress. Perhaps Lola
might entertain customers tonight. It would teach her well to learn how to earn
her keep for a change.

Elena daubed her fingertip into the pot of lip rouge and applied it,
then blotted her lips on a handkerchief. Antonio detested lip color, but it
matched her new red lingerie.

“Make certain you take everything you will need,
querida
,” she
called to Lola. Elena had allowed Lola to move some of her clothes and personal
possessions into her boudoir. She’d discovered it much easier to move her into
her quarters than to send for her each time she needed her company.

“I would stay with you and Whitehorse if you’d allow it,” Lola replied
with a wicked smile. “Together we might show him an excellent time.”

Fire shot through Elena. She met Lola’s steady gaze in the reflection,
then turned on the dressing stool to face her. “I do not share him.”

“Does he know that you and I are lovers?”

Elena’s gaze dropped to Lola’s bare breasts, then lower to the soft vee
of brown hair at the apex of her thighs. Moisture pooled between her own legs
as she thought of their afternoon together. She squirmed a bit on the stool,
her breasts suddenly heavy and aching.

“Come back to bed, Elena,” Lola said, offering her hand. “There is still
time before he arrives.”

No, there was
no time. She must prepare for Antonio and make
herself beautiful. “No. ” Elena turned back to the mirror and touched up the
threads of silver at her temples with a kohl pencil, ignoring Lola’s offer. She
studied her appearance.
Yes
. So young and vital—the same as she had been
at fifteen. 

A knock at the door jolted her from reverie. Elena blew out an
exasperated breath and whisked to the door where Molly stood, her eyes wide and
frightened.

“There’s a man who wants to speak to you, Miss Costanza.”

“What man?” she snapped. “Do you not see that I am preparing for
company?”

Molly visibly shuddered. “He says his name is Jones. William Jones.”

Oh, what a stupid girl. Elena knew no one named William Jones. It
sounded like an alias anyway. The last thing she needed was trouble. “Get rid
of him.”

“I tried, but...”

“But what?” She had no patience for Molly’s silly games.

 “I told him you were busy but he keeps hanging around, asking for
you.”

 Elena whisked back to her dressing table to check her hair. “What
does this man
wish to speak to me about anyway?”

“Halle—only he says her name is Hope and that he’s her uncle.”

The bottom fell out of Elena’s stomach. Her uncle? At first she feared
he might be Franklin Cole. He too, claimed the red haired girl was a dead
ringer for his missing niece. Yet, it couldn’t be. Molly said the man’s name
was William something or other. But what were the chances someone else would
step forward to claim the girl in such a manner? “Tell me more.”

“He said he has money, a lot of it. That he wants to thank you properly
for lettin’ her stay here a while.”

Elena’s heart fluttered in her chest. She doubted this man was Halle’s
uncle, most likely another opportunist who’d seen the reward poster and wished
to collect. A shudder rippled through her and she closed her eyes as a wave of
dizziness swept her. She prayed it wasn’t Franklin Cole. “Tell me, what does
this man look like?”

“He’s an old man. Hunched over. Wears an eye patch and walks with a
cane.”

Relief flooded her senses.
Dios!
It was not Franklin. Her mind
raced with ideas. He was an old man. Perhaps she could divest the feeble fool
of his cash in other ways. “Lola, leave us.” She dismissed her lover with a
wave of the hand.

The scantily clad Lola brushed past Elena, then returned to give her a
quick peck on the lips. She slipped her arms around her.

“None of that now.” Elena smoothed her hand up and down Lola’s back. “It
is just for one night.”

“I will miss you, Elena.”

Annoyed by Lola’s brazen display before Molly, Elena peeled her lover’s
arms from her and gave her a stern look. “Go.” With a huff, Lola turned on her
heel and left. Elena grasped Molly by the hand and yanked her into the room.
“What more did this man tell you?”

Molly trembled, hesitating.

“What is wrong with you,
pendeja
? You are shaking.” Elena smacked
Molly’s cheek lightly, then grasped her by the shoulders and gave her a
sobering shake. “Stop it, now or I will beat you with a whip. You have
disturbed me in my private quarters. Tell me what is so important.”

Molly nodded. “Yes ma’am. The man told me he’ll pay you just to talk to
him.”

Elena scoffed. “Pay to talk?” Her eyes narrowed on Molly. She was
fidgeting with the lace on her dress’ pockets. There was more she hadn’t told
her. “Talk about what?”

“About Halle. Says he’s got fifty dollars if you’ll talk to him, then
he’ll pay you five hundred dollars if you hand her over to him.”

Elena almost swooned.
She’d already promised the girl to Franklin
to get him off her back and hopefully, out of her life again. “Halle is not here.
Why would he think such?”

Elena’s mind went into a whirl. Five hundred dollars. What man had five
hundred dollars to waste on a stupid girl? A rich one. Perhaps he had more
money he might like to part with.

She mentally calculated the time frame of Antonio’s arrival. It was
still early enough. Perhaps she should find out more about this old
gringo
.
She would pour him a drink, perhaps offer to strip for him. From the physical
state Molly described, she doubted the older man would be able to get hard.
Even if he could perform, how much trouble could he be? Besides, she had her
eye on a lovely diamond necklace in the new French catalogue.

“Give me a few minutes and send him up. Have Ben pat him down to make
certain he is unarmed.”

With a nod, Molly left on swift feet.

Elena quickly changed out of the special red peignoir and satin robe
she’d put on for Antonio, and donned a stunning royal blue one with a low cut
bodice and a long, revealing slit at the knees.  The peignoir wasn’t as
expensive—a modest purchase from New York—but it would do for this occasion.
She hoped she didn’t give the old codger a heart attack before she got his
money.

She smiled as she smoothed her hands over the tight-fitting bodice,
adjusting it lower in front to reveal her lovely cleavage. In the full length
mirror’s reflection, she marveled at the unblemished texture of her skin, the
tautness of her throat and jaw line, her voluptuous breasts and slender waist.
Yes, she was still youthful and desirable, the most beautiful woman in the New
Mexico Territory. She smiled. For five hundred dollars she could make the
stupid old man forget all about that little red-haired witch.

Of course, she would have to deal with Franklin eventually. She would
tell him the girl had died. Yes, that might work. Tomorrow she’d ask Pedro to
dig a grave on the outskirts of town and erect a wooden cross. They’d bury the
entrails of last week’s slaughtered pig that remained rotting in the back
alley, along with the contents of a few chamber pots into the hole. The grave
would smell so foul that no one would dare attempt to dig it up.

Humming a happy tune, she spritzed herself from head to toe with a
rose-scented water, plumped the bed pillows and smoothed the satin quilt, then
let a cigarette and took a seat at her writing desk. At the knock on the door
she posed on the edge of her chair, the slit in the blue peignoir falling open
to reveal her shapely leg past the knee. With a toss of her head, she flipped
the loose, dark curls away from her face and pinched her cheeks for a spot of
color.

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