The Wildest Heart - Page 42

“Rowena… my dearest girl…”

I made my voice deliberately flat and expressionless.

“Before—before you say anything more you must listen to me, Mark! I realize that I must tell you the truth, in all fairness to everyone concerned, but first you have to promise me that this will remain in the strictest confidence between us; and that you will not do anything about it. Is that clear?”

I saw his face begin to harden again and shook my head warningly at him. “I mean it, Mark. If you will not give me your word, then I will tell you nothing.” I added cunningly, “If you really care for me, you’ll give me the promise I’ve asked for. I need a friend, Mark, someone I can talk to frankly. Don’t you understand?”

White tension lines appeared at the corners of his mouth, but he nodded grimly. “You know exactly the right words to use to bring me around to your will, don’t you?” There was a note of bitterness in his voice before it softened somewhat. “But whatever it is you ask of me, you have only to ask. Tell me what happened. I’ll try not to interrupt and I’ll try to restrain my temper.”

I smiled gratefully at him, although my body still felt stiff with strain. Could I trust Mark? But I would have to. I could see that now. I could not have him thinking the worst.

It was even more difficult to relate the events of last night than I had imagined, especially when I could watch the changing play of expressions on Mark’s face. They ranged from apprehension to grim-lipped rage to concern back to rage ag

ain. Several times I thought he would interrupt me, but true to his word, he merely tightened his lips and desisted.

He was silent until I had come to the end of my rather difficult explanations, until I cried out almost accusingly, “So you see how wrong you were? And that I was not exactly lying when I told you I had a fall? It was my fault, of course, for running out after him like that, and he—Mark, don’t look that way! Lucas Cord did nothing to me! He could have, if he had wanted to, I suppose, but he only said it was too late for talking and went away!”

“You call this nothing?” Mark’s voice was oddly quiet as his hand reached out to touch my shoulder gently. “Rowena, when I think of the narrow escape you had, of what might have happened, I—dear Lord, the thought is enough to drive me insane! Lucas Cord is a wild animal. Oh, I’m not saying that my uncle’s thirst for vengeance didn’t have something to do with turning him into one, but the fact remains that he is dangerous. And whatever you may say, I believe he is completely unscrupulous as well! Look at the way he treated Flo and the way he managed to arrange a meeting with her again. Can’t you see it’s revenge he’s after? And you—”

“But my father was fond of him! I’ve been reading his journals and he thought that Lucas had been unfairly treated, that there was some good in him!”

“Your father saw good in everyone. He was that kind of man! But you must not let pity blind you to facts.”

Mark ran his fingers distractedly through his smooth, fair hair and began to pace about the room, setting my nerves on edge. Now he had begun to sound like a logical, pitiless lawyer. And the worst part of it was that I recognized the cold truth of everything he said.

Lucas Cord was an outlaw. It was a profession, if one could call it that, which he had chosen. Mark was right. He was unscrupulous, even though he might hold sufficient respect and affection for my father so that he had not actually harmed me.

“But what about the next time?” Mark demanded reasonably. “Obviously, his visit to you was designed to find out how much you knew of his assignation with Flo. Perhaps he wanted to know just how naive you were.”

I protested, “But Mark!” and he waved me into silence.

“Of course he knew you must have read your father’s journals! He hoped to make an ally of you, so he pretended to act the gentleman, until fear for his own life made him show his true colors! He knew he had excited your curiosity, and he deliberately encouraged it. Be practical, Rowena! You’re a very rich young woman, and heir to half of the ranch. Don’t you see what an excellent pawn you’d make in his hands? Didn’t he hint that you were the key to ending the feud, and that your father had said so? Doesn’t that show you how diabolically cunning he is? What a perfect way to get his revenge—the ultimate revenge he has wanted all his life—through you.”

I could not keep silent any longer. “Mark, I think you’re wrong. Oh, I’ll admit that most of what you’ve said makes sense, and could very well be true, but he seemed genuinely anxious to explain something to me! And he was so bitter about what had been done to his mother and about the way your uncle had hounded the whole family. Killing his father, sending him to jail, and then putting a bounty on his head as if he was some hunted animal! It must be terrible to live like that!”

Why was I suddenly defending Lucas Cord? I could see that even Mark wondered at it, for he gave me a sharp look. “He’s not worth your pity, Rowena, although I admire you more for possessing a sense of justice. No, believe me, I know something of Luke Cord! Even I felt sorry for him at one time, but his actions have hardly been that of an innocent, put-upon man! Will you get it through your head, once and for all, that he is dangerous? A renegade cutthroat! How much have you heard about the band of men who call themselves comanchero. Let me tell you something about them.”

He went on and on, and I was forced to listen, feeling physically sick at the bald account of some of the atrocities these comancheros had committed. They traded in death and dishonor. Selling guns and liquor to the marauding Indians and sometimes disguising themselves as Indians in order to raid homesteads and small settlements; kidnapping white women to be sold as slaves across the border. It seemed there was no end to their evil.

I saw Lucas Cord as one of them, and I could not help shuddering. To think that he had been in my own bedroom! To think that he had touched me, that his body had lain so intimately close to mine!

Mark told me that Elena Kordes, for all her youth, had been a cold and calculating creature who had deliberately thrown herself at her cousin’s husband while poor Alma was sick. I had blamed Todd Shannon completely, but now I heard another side of the story.

“He’s a man! Must I elaborate on it? He had a man’s virile appetites, and with his wife sick, well, Elena was always there, flaunting herself. Don’t you see it? He told me that she threatened to tell Alma everything. She taunted him with the fact that Alma was sickly and she was strong and that she could give him many sons. And when he refused to be blackmailed and sent her away, she threatened him. She said she would get her revenge, that some day he would turn to her. Do you think he fastened the blame for that terrible massacre on her with no facts to go on? Why, even afterwards, when he was so stricken with terrible grief and she came back, it was to taunt him again, to tell him that it was she, now, who could give him the heir he so passionately wanted. My God—he’s only human! And you must remember he was half-grazed by grief and rage at the time. He turned on her…”

“But my father! Are you trying to tell me he was such a poor judge of human nature—of people—that he…”

“Your father was in love with her! How could he see her for what she was? Oh, she was clever, all right! She paid him just enough attention to make him fall in love with her so that she would have someone to fall back on. She wanted power and to be accepted as someone in the white man’s world. And she was the only available woman for miles around—quite lovely, in addition. In a way, she ruined your father’s life too. And then, when she saw she could have neither of them, she married Alejandro Kordes, hoping that he would regain his inheritance. Lucas Cord is her son, Rowena! He’s had hatred and revenge instilled in him with his mother’s milk, until it became a way of life with him. For God’s sake, try to understand that it’s too late to change him. He’s the son of both his parents and he’s chosen their way.”

By now I was so shaken, so uncertain of what I should believe, that I felt I had hardly the strength left to go on standing. I sank into a chair, still staring at Mark, and his face changed, becoming softer.

“If I could have spared you all this sordidness, Rowena, I would have. But you had to be warned, and I won’t allow you to be hurt!” He gave me a quizzical, slightly sad look. “And now I’ve made you almost pity my Uncle Todd, haven’t I; I can see it in your eyes. Perhaps you won’t hate him so much now; perhaps I’ve ruined my own chances with you! You see, I know that you could not help feeling attracted to him. He has that effect on women. And yet I love you enough to want your happiness above all else.”

“Oh, Mark,” I said wearily, resting my chin on my clasped hands, “I don’t know what to think any longer! What should I do?” Remembering something, my voice became stronger. I felt almost relieved. “But there’s Mr. Bragg! Elmer Bragg. Lucas Cord said Mr. Bragg had sent him to me! Why would he do such a thing if…”

Mark said grimly, “Don’t you think it at all strange that Mr. Bragg has not shown up himself? Ask yourself. Is he the kind of man who would send a complete stranger, an outlaw, to see you without any warning at all?”

We looked at each other, and I could feel the blood drain from my face. It was at that moment, I think, that I became completely convinced of the truth of everything Mark had told me.

Tags: Rosemary Rogers Historical
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