This Fierce Splendor

19

The town of Rosario, Mexico, baked in the late afternoon heat. Actually, it was more village than town, consisting of several tiny stucco houses, a church, a cantina, and a blacksmith’s lean-to with a corral in the rear. Three brown-skinned women scrubbing clothes in the large chipped fountain in the center of the square stopped their work to watch Elspeth and Dominic ride down the street.

Dominic stopped before the church. “Stay here.” He swung down from his horse. “I’ll go and see if I can arrange for a bath and a place for you to sleep tonight. Father Leon is the only man in Rosario I’d trust to house you in this town.”

Elspeth looked at him in surprise. “You’ve been here before?”

“About four years ago.” He climbed the steps and opened the tall brass-studded door. “Arizona was getting a little too hot for me so I came down here. There’s no law in Rosario.”

“Then why didn’t you stay?”

He looked over his shoulder as he stepped into the dim coolness of the chapel. “I got tired of drinking tequila.” Then he was gone, and she heard the soft jingle of his spurs as he walked down the aisle of the church.

He had been homesick for Killara, Elspeth thought. Who could blame him? Even to her, the green valleys of Killara seemed like paradise after the hot, burning desert country they’d been traveling across for the past two and a half weeks.

She reached for the linen handkerchief tucked into her belt and wiped the back of her neck, thinking longingly of the dimness of the chapel. The fine dust was entering her lungs with every breath and the heat-blurred horizon was wavering before her eyes.

The women at the fountain were still staring at her. Elspeth smiled tentatively, but they did not return her smile. Their round brown faces were stolid, their dark eyes expressing no warmth only curiosity at the foreigner in their midst. She was suddenly acutely conscious of the whiteness of her skin, the fairness of her hair, and the delicate slenderness of her body. She looked quickly away from the women. No wonder Dominic had not stayed here, even though it was safer for him.

“Elspeth.” She looked up to see Dominic coming down the steps. “Father Leon will let you stay at his casa next door to the church. He begs you to forgive him for not coming to greet you, and asks that you come to him. It’s painful for him to walk.”

Elspeth got down from the mare. “Is he ill?”

Dominic shook his head. “Crippled. Before he moved to Rosario he had a brush with the soldiers at a village closer to the border. They thought he knew the hiding place of Indino, a bandit who raided the silver shipments of the great mine owners in the area. They tied the Father down spreadeagled and galloped their horses over him.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “A priest?”

Dominic nodded. “Compared to the soldiers, the bandits are gentlemen born and bred.”

Elspeth felt sick. “How terrible. They could have killed him.”

“Six months later Indino found the colonel who ordered the torture.” Dominic took the reins of the mare. “I’ll take the animals over to the corral for the night. I promised Father Leon I’d join him for dinner, but I have something to do first.”

Torres, thought Elspeth. Every evening before Dominic settled down for the night he would go back and assure himself there was no one following them. “Aren’t you going to stay with Father Leon too?”

He shook his head. “I’ll find a bed over at the cantina.” His lips twisted sardonically. “I’ll feel more comfortable there.” He started to turn away.

“Dominic.”

He paused to look at her.

“What did Indino do to that colonel?”

“I don’t think you’d want to know.” He walked away, leading their horses and burros toward the blacksmith’s corral.

Elspeth watched him for a moment before walking up the steps to the chapel. He was right. Barbarism and hardship confronted her every day; she didn’t need to expose herself to more. Every time she thought she had grown as hard and tough as Dominic, something happened to prove to her how soft and vulnerable she still was.

At least she was no longer physically soft. The first few days of the journey had been agonizing and she had thought she would collapse from sheer exhaustion. It had been a nightmare hiding her weariness from Dominic to prevent him from insisting on doing everything himself as he had that first night on the trail. But as the days had passed, Dominic’s wound had healed and she had found she, too, was becoming stronger. Her muscles were getting more supple, her endurance was increasing. The sun burned her skin in spite of the sombrero Dominic insisted she never be without, but the painful burn went away and her skin turned brown. She thought she looked like a withered hag, but she felt good. The knowledge that she was strong enough to withstand the elements and long hours on the trail, yet still have enough energy to help Dominic filled her with a serene sense of self-worth she had never before experienced.

“Señorita, por favor.”

Elspeth turned to see a small boy of about nine years of age standing on the step below her. His dark hair was a wild tangle, his face dirty, his shirt and trousers ragged. He was barefoot and the steps must have been terribly hot on the soles of his feet.

“You spoke to me?”

He nodded, his dark gaze fixed desperately on her face. “Sí.”

“You wish money?” she asked gently. “I have very little but I’ll be glad to give you a peso.”

He shook his head so emphatically, flecks of dust flew from the wild black locks. “No, I wish nothing from you,” he said in Spanish. She had difficulty understanding him. The accent was different, harsher than the soft Castilian she had learned in Spain. However, there was no misunderstanding the smile he gave her. It was as innocently beguiling as that of a Botticelli cherub. “It is I who have a gift for you.”

Father Leon smiled as she came into the room. “You look muy bonita, Señora. Maria gave you the help you needed?”

“She was very kind.” Elspeth hurried forward to take from him the tray containing an earthenware pitcher and a bowl filled with a savory mixture of chicken, corn, and green peppers. She had already found that the priest attempted to do far more than he should, given his infirmities. He was bent and twisted, scarcely able to shuffle without flinching, and yet he was trying to wait on them. “Sit down, Father Leon. This looks delicious. Has my husband come back yet?” She tingled with pleasure when she referred to Dominic in that possessive manner.

She set the tray on the long trench table and turned to look anxiously out the window. The sun was setting in a burst of radiant gold, scarlet, and mauve. It had been nearly four hours since they had arrived in Rosario, and she had seen nothing of Dominic since he had left her at the steps of the church. After these last two weeks she wasn’t accustomed to being separated from him for more than a few moments, and his absence made her uneasy.

“He will come soon.” Father Leon seated himself at the head of the table. “Dominic enjoys Maria’s chicken stew far too much to linger long at the cantina.” His smile faded. “You must encourage Dominic to stay away from the cantina now that he is a married man. There are many ungodly activities at Miguel’s. Gambling and…” He trailed off awkwardly.

Hetaeras. The unspoken word jumped immediately to the forefront of her mind. Of course there would be women for Dominic to enjoy here. Dark-eyed brown-skinned women who would welcome him into their beds. The thought brought such a wild thrill of pain, she had to lower her lashes to veil her eyes from the priest. “Did he stay at the cantina when he was here before?”

Father Leon nodded. “When he wasn’t in the hills with Indino.”

Her lashes flew up. “He was a bandit?”

The priest smiled reassuringly. “No, he merely grew restless with us here and he and Indino became friends. It was natural they should, I suppose. In many ways they are much alike. Indino, too, is an unusual man.”

“Since I crossed the sea I’ve come to the conclusion there are no ‘usual’ men here,” Elspeth said dryly. “I believe I must have left all commonplace individuals in Edinburgh.”

Father Leon chuckled. “When men live without laws, their good qualities as well as their sins tend to be magnified. Perhaps because their temptations are so much greater.”

Elspeth frowned as she poured the frothy milk from the pitcher into polished wooden cups. He was again obliquely warning her about the temptations that would assault Dominic at the cantina. He didn’t understand that there was nothing she could do to keep Dominic from going to those fallen women. He had married her to protect her, probably considering that the full discharge of his duty to her. He had not made promises of fidelity, and there was nothing she could do to prevent him from taking his pleasures where and when he wished. Her hand tightened on the handle of the pitcher as a wild thought occurred to her. Unless-

“You look very thoughtful.” Father Leon’s eyes were narrowed on her face. “You must not be concerned, it takes time for two people to become accustomed to each other. I’m sure you will be able to persuade Dominic to give up drink, gambling, and-” he paused as if for inspiration- “other iniquities when he settles down and realizes how fortunate he is in his marriage to you.”

The priest’s words brought little comfort. If she was not with child, these two months were all the time she would have with Dominic. The realization brought a sense of desperation and caused that wild thought to come to mind once again. “I’m sure you’re right, Father.” She lit the fat tallow candle on the table. “I believe I’ll have to make Dominic realize he’s a married man now. I’ll consider what you’ve said.” She changed the subject. “I met a small child as I came into the church. He was very appealing.” She paused. “He wanted to give me a present.”

Father Leon nodded. “Ah, you are speaking of Rafael. I thought he would approach you before you left Rosario. It is a sad situation.”

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t believe Dominic would like me to accept Rafael’s gift.”

“Then you must not do it. A woman must obey her husband.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Dominic stood in the doorway, his hat in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “I took advantage of a hot bath to soak the dust out of my bones.” He held up the bottle and smiled at the priest. “I brought a peace offering, Miguel’s very best.”

“Which is very fine indeed.” Father Leon returned Dominic’s smile. “A fitting beverage to toast your lovely bride. Does she not look beautiful tonight?”

“Very beautiful.” Dominic didn’t look at Elspeth as he tossed his hat on a chair. “Amazing what a little soap and water can do.”

He meant that at least she was scrubbed clean of trail dust, Elspeth thought gloomily. She knew she wasn’t attractive to him, despite his polite agreement with the priest. He had seen her in Brianne’s dark brown riding skirt and white cotton blouse many times in the past two weeks. Then, too, she was tanned almost as berry-brown as those women she had seen by the fountain this afternoon, and didn’t a man want a woman like her to have a milky white complexion? She had a sudden memory of the beautiful white gown Rising Star had permitted her to borrow on that first evening at Killara. How she wished she had something lovely to wear tonight.

“Sit down,” she said. “Father Leon says you’re very fond of Maria’s chicken stew. It looks quite wonderful.”

“It is.” Dominic took the seat she’d indicated. “I can remember one night Indino and I rode thirty miles down from the hills because he swore he could smell her cooking it.” His white teeth flashed as he grinned. “It was three o’clock in the morning when we rode into Rosario, and Maria wasn’t pleased when we banged on her door and woke her up.”

“Nonsense. She may have scolded you but she was flattered.” Father Leon’s eyes twinkled. “She still boasts of that night to the other women in the village.”

Elspeth sat down opposite Dominic, watching the expressions change and flicker on his face as one reminiscence led to another. The stew was as good as Dominic had claimed, but she found she had little appetite. She was too absorbed in turning over in her mind the astonishing and frightening idea Father Leon’s words had inspired. Was it possible that she could find a way of tempting Dominic into wanting to stay with her? She was no practiced hetaera, but he had said all women were much the same and perhaps-

“You’re not eating.” Dominic’s gaze was suddenly on her face. It was the first time he had looked at her since he had entered the house and a little quiver of excitement ran through her. “Are you sick?”

“What?” She moistened her lips. “Oh, no, I’m enjoying it very much. It’s just…”-she searched wildly for an excuse-“hot.”

His gaze held her own and she felt the wild color sting her cheeks. What if he had guessed what she had been thinking? She felt suddenly naked and vulnerable, and the words tumbled from her lips. “Don’t you think it’s hot?”

“Yes.” His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath and then forced himself to look away from her. “Yes, very hot.” He suddenly stood up, the legs of his chair screeching as he pushed it away from the table. “I think I’ll take a walk before I go to bed.”

Father Leon’s face clouded in disappointment. “Are you not going to join me in a glass of wine?”

“Not tonight.” Dominic tempered the shortness of the refusal with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning before we leave, Father. Good night.”

Father Leon’s gaze moved from Dominic’s face to Elspeth’s and back again. “You are welcome to stay here with your wife tonight. I think you will find the bed I gave her far cleaner than the one at Miguel’s.”

Elspeth held her breath, her hand tightening on the wooden cup.

Dominic didn’t answer for a moment, and she could feel his gaze return to her face. “I don’t doubt it.” His voice was thick. “But I must refuse. I have a few friends I want to see at Miguel’s.”

Women friends? Elspeth wondered, experiencing a wild primitive anger that was a totally new feeling. Jealousy. She wanted to do physical injury to those “friends.” She got hurriedly to her feet. “I believe I’ll get a breath of fresh air before I help Maria clean up.” She passed Dominic without a glance as she headed for the front door. “I’ll be back shortly, Father.”

The evening air was cool on her hot cheeks and she inhaled deeply, breathing in the pungent scent of creosote and chili peppers drying on the rawhide awning of the house next door. Light was streaming through the windows and doors of the small stucco buildings surrounding the square, and she could hear the sound of a guitar echoing through the empty streets from the direction of the cantina. She heard the door close behind her. “It’s much cooler out here, isn’t it?” she asked quickly. “I like Father Leon. It seems impossible that anyone would want to hurt him. He has the-”

“What’s wrong?” Dominic interrupted.

“What could be wrong?” she asked, moving away from him. “It’s quite pleasant here. I’m glad we had the opportunity to stop and sleep in a room with four walls around us.”

“There’s something wrong. I know you well enough now to understand when you’re upset about something.” He hesitated. “Were you afraid I was going to let the priest talk me into sharing your bed?”

Heat rained through her every vein. “No. You had the opportunity to force yourself on me any number of times in the last weeks. What difference would it make if we did share a bed?”

The same difference as the straw that broke the camel’s back, he wanted to tell her. He should never have stopped here, but he had wanted to let her rest. She had been so damn brave and uncomplaining that he had felt guilty as hell at pushing her as he had these last two weeks. Yet how could he explain that if he hadn’t been too exhausted to crave nothing but rest, he would have been within her, his promise forgotten, everything forgotten but the tightness, the heat of her.

He shuddered. Damn, he shouldn’t have let himself remember how sweet she had felt around him. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’ll be here to get you right after dawn.”

“No, I’ll meet you at the corral.” He was leaving her. He would cross the square to that cantina, where there would be music and hetaeras and all the pleasures he knew so well. “I can find my way.”

“Whatever you wish. You’d better go back inside now and get to bed.”

Back to Father Leon and the small ascetic room where she would sleep alone tonight. Dominic would not sleep alone. The anger and hurt she was feeling suddenly flared hotly. She had been debating whether to accept Rafael’s gift, but now it was decided. Any man who had the insensitivity to indulge himself with hetaeras while his wife was just across the square did not deserve any consideration. “Good night, Dominic.” The edge to the words was sharp enough to whittle wood.

Dominic hesitated. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Oh, yes, I’m perfectly splendid. Go on to your cantina.” Why had she thought she might appeal to him as those other women did? He couldn’t wait to leave her and go rushing to the eager arms of some black-eyed señorita.

He stood stock-still for a moment, then he shrugged and started across the square.

She watched until Dominic disappeared into the cantina before returning to the house. She carefully banished the look of anger from her face, assuming a cheerful smile as she went in to join Father Leon.

“A mule?” There was a lethal softness to Dominic’s tone. “You actually bought a mule?”

“No, I told you, he was a gift,” Elspeth said. She swung into the saddle of the mare. “I don’t know why you’re upset. He’s much bigger than those poor little burros and should be able to carry a great deal more.”

“Give him back,” Dominic said curtly. “No mules.”

“I can’t give him back. I promised Rafael I would take him with us.”

“Give him back.” Dominic had enunciated every word with deliberate precision.

“You’re being most unreasonable,” she said sweetly. “And behaving atrociously, but I’ll forgive you. I know you must be feeling bad. You look quite ill.”

“I have a headache.”

She nodded solicitously. “You really shouldn’t drink so much. Look at the trouble it’s caused you. The last time you overindulged, you ended up with a bride.” She patted the mare’s neck. “Now, come along and stop arguing. It would be stupid to refuse a valuable gift like Azuquita.”

“Azuquita,” Dominic repeated blankly. “Someone named that monster Little Sugar?”

The mule he was looking at was a good seventeen hands high, black as the bottom of a well, with a face full of sin. A tiny gold loop earring pierced the top of his right ear. Azuquita stared back at Dominic with a blandness that caused the hair on Dominic’s nape to bristle.

“Well, Rafael actually called him Sweetness,” Elspeth said. “Isn’t that a good sign he has a lovely nature? I put the saddlebags on him myself and I found him very gentle.”

“He’s trying to fool you into thinking that. Then when you least expect it, he’ll pounce. I know mules.”

“I’m sure every mule isn’t the same. You’ve merely had an unfortunate experience.”

“We’re not taking that mule.”

The smile on Elspeth’s lips wavered. “Of course we are. Rafael was most upset. Indino gave the mule to Rafael and the child loves Azuquita. But it seems the boy’s father drinks too much.” She inclined her head at Dominic. “You should sympathize with that failing. Anyway, when he overindulges he develops a violent dislike for Azuquita and beats him. He even threatened to shoot the poor mule the next time it annoyed him.”

Dominic smiled sardonically. “I don’t suppose you inquired what Sweetness had done to annoy him?”

“I’m sure it was something trifling. What could the animal have possibly done to deserve slaughter?”

“What indeed.” Dominic said, his gaze on the mule.

Azuquita’s lips suddenly pulled back to reveal yellow-white teeth.

“My God, the damn mule is grinning at me,” Dominic whispered.

“I told you he was good-tempered.”

“If I remember my scriptures, Lucifer seemed that way too-before the fall.” He shook his head. “No, Elspeth.”

Her smile vanished. “I didn’t ask your permission to bring him. I won’t have that animal brutalized or Rafael frightened or upset. I will care for him myself and you need have nothing to do with him.” She grabbed the lead reins of the mule. “Come along, Azuquita.” Elspeth’s mare trotted out of the corral with the mule ambling docilely at her heels.

“Elspeth, there’s no way that you can have nothing to do with a mule on the trail,” he called after her. “They haunt you; they do things that drive you insane.”

“Nonsense.” She didn’t look back.

Dominic began to curse beneath his breath as he mounted his horse. The imprecations involved Elspeth’s soft heart, the mare and the donkey that had begot the mule, and the black entity that was Azuquita itself.

The first day the mule behaved surprisingly well, clipping along at a brisk pace as they turned east and began to negotiate the foothills of the Sierra Madres.

The second day Dominic’s watchful regard registered an imperceptible slowing as boredom began to fester. On the third day Little Sugar began to turn sour. Not toward Elspeth. He behaved with admirable obedience with her. It was with Dominic he attempted to lighten his boredom.

It began with a light, almost playful nip whenever Dominic came within reach, then he began crowding Dominic’s horse into an occasional tree or the wall of a cliff. Dominic countered by moving the mule from behind Elspeth in the column and placing him with the burros bringing up the rear.

On the fourth day Azuquita gnawed at the girth of the burro next to him until the saddlebag fell off his back. Since Dominic didn’t discover it for some time, it took two hours to backtrack and retrieve the saddlebag and another hour to mend the girth. Dominic moved the mule back to his former place behind Elspeth.

On the fifth night a raucous bray woke Dominic in the middle of the night and he opened his eyes to see Azuquita’s hindquarters descending on his face!

“What the hell?” He had time to roll only a few inches before he received the mule’s bushy tail in his face. “You ornery eunuch.” He brushed the tail from his face. “You loco fiend from hell. You evil son of a-” He broke off as he heard Elspeth’s choked laughter. She was sitting up in her blankets across the fire, laughing helplessly. “This is not funny.”

“I know. It’s very serious.” She immediately began laughing again. “He could have smothered you with his tail.”

Dominic sat up and moved gingerly away from the mule, now sitting placidly and ignoring them, warming his broad backside in front of the fire. “He also could have crushed my skull if I hadn’t moved fast.”

“I think he was just being playful.” Elspeth wiped her eyes on the corner of the blanket. “He did warn you. That bray would have raised Lazarus.”

“Playful! He’s trying to murder me.”

“How did he get free?”

Dominic motioned to the gnawed and shredded rope dangling around Azuquita’s neck. “I don’t mind him breaking loose, but why the hell couldn’t he have run away?”

Elspeth grinned. “He likes you.”

Dominic gazed at her as if she had gone mad.

“No, I believe he really does like you,” she insisted. “He only tolerates me, but I think he regards you as a true challenge.”

“He tried to knock me off a cliff yesterday, tonight he tried to smother me. I hate to think what he has in mind for me tomorrow.”

Elspeth’s smile faded. “I have a confession to make. One of the reasons I brought Sweetness along was that I was a little annoyed with you.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. I admit I found Azuquita’s pranks very amusing, but I realize now it wasn’t fair of me to burden you with him.” She lowered her gaze to the fire. “Perhaps we could find someone to leave Azuquita with until we return.”

“The only people in these hills are bandits and their women. If we gave Sweetness to them, I don’t know if we’d get out of the hills alive.”

Elspeth’s hand reached up to comb through her loosened hair, causing the material of her blouse to tauten over the soft swell of her breasts. Dominic was suddenly conscious of her grace, her supple litheness. He felt a stirring heat and tried to blot it out before it could become the painful desire he had lived with for so long.

Azuquita turned his head and looked at them as if he had understood every word they had spoken. The son of a bitch probably had, Dominic thought crossly, he wouldn’t put it past the hybrid warlock.

The torment of lust had lessened, Dominic realized with a jolt of shock. It had not disappeared entirely, he was still conscious of a nagging ache within him, but his annoyance with Sweetness had at least made him think of something else beside Elspeth. Now that he thought about it, for the past five days the mule had kept his mind so occupied, he hadn’t had the opportunity to think of anything else.

An ironic smile flitted across his lips at the thought of how disappointed Azuquita would be if he realized his downright ugliness was acting in Dominic’s best interest.

“Why are you smiling?” Elspeth asked, puzzled.

“I was just thinking that bringing Azuquita wasn’t such a bad idea.”

She looked relieved. “You’re not upset about it any longer? Sweetness is very strong. I surely hope his behavior will improve once he gets to know you.”

The mule’s lips pulled back from his yellow-white teeth.

Dominic smiled back at him, mirroring the same toothy menace. “We’ll see if your hope pans out.” He got to his feet and grabbed hold of the shredded rope. Sweetness immediately tried to bury his teeth in Dominic’s hand. “I think I’ll be the one to take care of him from now on. As you say, we have to get to know each other.”

Elspeth blinked. “If you’re sure that’s what you wish.”

Dominic tugged at the rope. Azuquita didn’t move. “On your feet, my little sugar.” His tone was almost affectionate. “It’s back to the other animals with you. You’ve done enough damage for one night.”

It took him thirty minutes to get Azuquita off his haunches and tethered with the other animals. By that time Dominic was annoyed and exhausted enough almost to forget the silken warmth of Elspeth waiting for him only a few yards across the fire, and he fell asleep in minutes.

It was two days later that the heat that had followed them from Killara into Mexico appeared to be on the verge of breaking. Blue-black clouds rolled across the western horizon and in the afternoon the wind carried with it the bite of cool moisture.

Elspeth took a deep breath, letting the pungent dampness flow through her. “Doesn’t it feel like a blessing? It rains frequently in Edinburgh, but I don’t think I’ve fully appreciated it. I feel as if my bones are made of sand. Do you think the storm will come this way?”

“Yes.” Dominic swung off his horse, with practiced agility dodged Azuquita’s attempt to step on his boot, and grabbed the mule’s lead rope. “And we don’t have much time to build a shelter.”

“We’re stopping now? We still have a few hours before sunset.”

“The storm’s close enough. I like my comfort and I don’t have any intention of sleeping in the rain.” He was leading the stallion and mule into a pine grove at the side of the trail.

“What are you going to do?”

“Build a lean-to. I saw some ocotillo shrubs about a quarter of a mile back.”

Ocotillo. She hadn’t the faintest idea which bush he was talking about, but the word had a lovely musical sound. “How can I help?”

“Unsaddle the animals and tether them to a tree that has a lot of protective foliage.” He reached into his saddlebags and drew out a pair of heavy leather gloves and a sheath containing a hunting knife. “I’ll be right back.”

He was back in twenty minutes carrying a huge armload of narrow greenish-brown sticks from three to four feet in length.

“Ocotillo?” she asked.

He nodded. “You lay them close together and they form a pretty good roof for a lean-to. Pine branches are better for the supports though.”

“Can we have a fire?”

He didn’t look up. “A small one.”

By the time the shelter was built, the grove was beginning to be inundated with the eerie golden light that sometimes precedes the darkness of a storm. The two gnarled support branches were nearly five feet tall; once the blankets were spread and a fire built, the tiny enclosure was reasonably cozy.

The wind was swaying the tops of the tall pines and the golden light was disappearing. Now there was only a still purple gloom reflected from the storm clouds overhead. Elspeth’s head lifted, and she experienced a tiny thrill of excitement as if she, too, were mirroring the tempest about to be unleashed. The cool breeze lifted her hair from her forehead and she could smell the heady scent of rain, grass, and rich earth.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

“It won’t be wonderful for long.” Dominic crawled under the lean-to. “In about a minute the sky is going to split wide open and you’re going to be drowned if you stay out there.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. Her gaze was on the darkening sky and she gave a little shiver of anticipation. “It makes me feel strange. I don’t know… powerful. Do you know what I mean?”

His expression softened as he looked at her glowing face, radiant in the dimness of the grove. “Yes, I know what you mean. Now, come in under the lean-to before you get wet.”

She sighed and then reluctantly crawled under the shelter to sit beside him, settling back against the saddlebags Dominic had propped against the tree. “It would almost be worth it.”

He shook his head. “You’d get chilled and we sure as the devil don’t want you ill again.”

“I won’t become ill. I’ve never felt more healthy in my life.” It was difficult to remember a time when she hadn’t felt this strong and well, and yet it had been only a month ago that she had been bedridden at the hotel in Hell’s Bluff.

The rain began to fall, at first sporadically, then in huge drops, and as Dominic had predicted, the heavens opened. Rain poured down with stunning force. She could hear it pounding the ocotillo roof, but surprisingly few drops managed to pierce the branches.

The fire Dominic had built was small, but they managed to prepare a meal of beans and hardtack. After they had finished, there seemed nothing to do but sit and watch the rain.