The Wildest Heart

Elena’s voice cut across his angry speech like a knife blade.

“That is enough! Lucas, have you forgotten your manners?”

And then Ramon, his voice choked with anger. “It is always Lucas who forgets himself, as usual. He was insulting… it is clear he is not used to civilized company! I ask your forgiveness, Lady Rowena, for my brother’s manners.”

“Are you tryin’ to tell me that being civilized means you’ve gotta act the hypocrite, little brother?” I hated the drawling, sarcastic manner in which Lucas addressed his own brother, leaning back in his chair with one eyebrow slightly arched. And if I had been Ramon, I would have hit him!

I thought, for a moment, that Ramon would do just that. He stood at the table, gripping its edge so hard that his knuckles looked white. “You dare call me the hypocrite, Lucas? You of all people!”

His voice was heavy with a significance that was lost on me, but for some reason I saw that Lucas had become angry, his narrowed eyes taking on the familiar cat-gleam I had learned to recognize.

It was only Elena’s warning, “Lucas!” that stopped him from some violent, irresponsible action.

I saw him take a deep breath, and noticed that the corners of his mouth had whitened. There was a tension here that I did not understand, and as furious as I was, it made me curious.

“Ramon—you will sit down and try to remember that you, at least, were brought up as a gentleman!” Elena said sharply. She added in a more controlled voice, “I am sure that Rowena is quite able to fight her own battles. Is that not so?”

Since she had addressed me, I shrugged, putting a feigned lightness in my voice.

“So far I have been quite capable of doing so.” I looked into Ram

on’s upset face and smiled. “It was kind of you to come to my defense, but unnecessary. I have become quite used to your brother’s ill-mannered ways!”

“I apologize to you for him,” Ramon said quietly, and for the moment the incident was ended. It had, however, made me aware that a kind of tension did exist between the three brothers, and that in some way my presence here had brought it out into the open. Had it always been there? Was it because both Julio and Ramon were jealous of Lucas, who was so obviously his mother’s favorite?

I told myself that I would find out. For all that a polite pretense existed that I was a guest, all of us knew better. I had been brought here to this valley for a purpose, and furthermore, in a moment of weakness, I had promised an old man that I would try to keep an open mind while I heard the other side of the old story that had already affected so many lives, my own included.

My grandfather had taught me that there were always two sides to every argument. Surely there could be no harm in exercising some patience, in watching and listening? How long ago it seemed now since Mr. Bragg had given me that advice; and every time I thought of Mr. Bragg I felt my hatred and mistrust almost choke me. And Elena Kordes—how much did she know of her son’s activities?

I suppose I must have looked thoughtful, for the next moment I heard Ramon, who was seated beside me, murmur in a low voice: “If you only knew how angry and unhappy it makes me to find what my brother has been up to this time! If he’s treated you badly…”

I made an impatient movement of my shoulders. “Why speak of it? This is not the first time I’ve been forced to make the best of circumstances. Believe me, I’m not as weak as I may look!”

He said fervently, “You are magnificent! When I think of all that you must have undergone these past weeks…”

“Your brother Julio and his wife were very kind,” I said pointedly. “And so was your grandfather.” I hoped that Lucas Cord had overheard, but when I shot him a fleeting glance through the screen of my lashes, I found his attention fixed on his mother, who was laughing at something he had said.

Twenty-Two

Later that night, in my room, I finally had some time to collect my thoughts and impressions of the day.

Luz and I had connecting rooms which were separated by a low archway, instead of a door. She apologized in a small, rather sullen voice for the lack of privacy, but I could not help wondering if I had been deliberately put here so that she could watch me.

“If it grows too hot at night, you can step through the window here—you will see where the roof of the gallery below gives just enough room to stand and catch some coolness.”

She made as if to close the shutters she had just opened, and it was at that moment that the smell of cigar smoke drifted up to us.

I heard Lucas Cord’s husky voice, with an almost desperately yearning note in it.

“You know why I do not come more often! My God—do you think I’m made of steel? There are times…”

“And there are such times for me too! Do you think I enjoy feeling myself a prisoner here?”

“Jesus Montoya comes to see you. That ring on your finger is new, ain’t it? He just give it to you for old times sake? Christ, Elena! I can’t stay away, and every time I come back here I…”

“Remember when you promised to kill dragons for me? You were a child then, and more Apache than Julio is. And I saw your eyes on me… you did not want to like me, did you? And I did not want to like you. But I knew at that moment that we would ask you to come with us, and that you would come.”

I have never heard such stark unhappiness in any man’s voice, either before or since.