Hidden Fires

The vaqueros had formed a semicircle in the yard. Thorn, his hawklike features fearsome, stood holding the reins of the waiting mounts. Charger pawed the hard-packed earth beneath his hooves. Rudy and Jared mounted in unison. Disdaining the stirrups of his own saddle, the Comanche vaulted astride his horse. Rudy nodded briefly to his small army and then jerked hard on the reins of his horse, turned him, and galloped out the gate, Thorn and Jared on either side, his men behind him.

Lauren whirled around and faced Gloria, who had come out onto the porch. “Gloria, you’re not going to let—”

“It’s something they have to do, Lauren,” she said with quiet assurance. “Come. We have things to do, too.”

The hours ticked by with a slow monotony. To Lauren, the horror of seeing Maria lying in her own fresh blood had been dimmed by the realization that Jared might never come back. The brothers had left seeking revenge and she knew the battle would be bloody. No, God, no, she prayed as she mechanically went through the tasks Gloria assigned her.

Maria’s body had been carried in by one of the older hands. She was laid on the bed she had shared with Ben. Gloria prepared her for burial. Lauren didn’t think she could have looked at the body again, but felt that Gloria would be offended if she didn’t accompany the children into the room to pay their last respects to their grandmother.

Lauren was shocked. She didn’t know how Gloria had managed it, but Maria’s wound didn’t show under the high collar of her dress. Her hair was smoothed back in its usual bun. Her face was unlined and her lips were relaxed into a semblance of a smile. Her hands, b

eautiful, gentle hands, rested on her breast with a rosary entwined in the slender fingers.

The same cowboy who had carried Maria inside constructed the coffin. Lauren took the children out of the room when he came in to lift Maria into the wooden box.

For the rest of the afternoon, Lauren and Elena, who had come to the house upon learning of the tragedy, tried to keep the children quiet while Gloria tended to the twins. Even after the children were all abed, and the twins were sleeping peacefully in their cribs, the women kept vigil, waiting tensely for their men to return.

Finally, long after sundown, they heard the thunder of horses and raced to the porch. The figures were too small to distinguish at first in the fading light, but each woman sighed relief when she saw her man among those returning.

Rudy and Jared rode up into the yard and tiredly got off their horses, turning the reins over to the vaquero who would care for their exhausted mounts.

Gloria didn’t say a word, only went down the steps to greet her husband by wrapping her arms around him. He held her close, as if to absorb her strength. When she raised her head and looked into his weary face, he said, “Not a trace. Nothing.”

They all went into the house and the men collapsed at the dining table. Gloria and Lauren scurried to set the food, which had been simmering on the stove, on the table. Elena had seen to it that the tired vaqueros had a pot of the savory stew delivered to the bunkhouse before she left with Carlos.

When his plate was empty, Rudy wiped his mouth with a napkin and scooted his chair back. Jared pulled Lauren down onto his lap and rested his head against her breasts as Rudy began to speak.

“We went to their camp first. Deserted. Not a sign except for the rubbish they left behind. We combed the hills all day, looking in every nook and cranny, and didn’t see a trace of any of them.” He paused to take a drink of the whiskey Gloria had poured for him. “We found one old nester, about half-crazy. He said he’d seen Duncan and a few others at the river just above the Fredericksburg Road. Day before yesterday, he thought. Duncan was talking to a ‘fancy man.’”

“Vandiver?” Gloria asked. Lauren gasped.

“Probably,” Jared answered.

They all became quiet then, each lost in his own thoughts. Rudy broke the silence. “I’ll find him,” he said. “Murdering sonofabitch. I’ll find him.” The level tone of his voice was frightening to hear. He raised his eyes to Gloria. “Where is she?”

“In her room.”

He nodded and stared at the flame of the gas lamp on the table in front of him. “One of the hands offered to ride into Pueblo and bring a priest back in the morning. We’ll bury her then.” He paused, then said, “I was thinking today that she would never have gotten over losing Ben. Ever since he died, she’s been unhappy. Maybe… maybe this was… She’ll be happy…” His voice broke and Gloria rushed to his side. He came to his feet under her support and they left the room.

* * *

“Jared, that’s impossible! Even if you could pull off such a thing, do you realize the lives that could be lost? The property that would be destroyed? How could you suggest such a… harebrained scheme?”

“What choices do I have? Try to understand this from my point of view.”

Lauren heard the voices raised in heated argument coming from the front porch. Dinner was over and the brothers had gone outside. Gloria was caring for the twins. Lauren had been reading in front of the fire in the large living room when she heard Rudy’s harsh words.

It had been a week since Maria’s burial in a cottonwood grove overlooking the Rio Caballo. Each morning, Rudy and Jared rode out with their men to search for Wat Duncan. Each evening, they returned disappointed in not having seen a trace of their quarry. Maria’s death had affected them all, Jared included. But even before that, since the night of his arrival during the blizzard, he hadn’t been the sarcastic, angry man he was in Coronado. The man she slept with every night made tender, passionate love to her on the wide bed that had been his since childhood. He told her of his plans to build a house of his own at Pecan Creek. He related to her the circumstances surrounding the death of his friend Alex, in Cuba, and clung to her, tormented by visions of the atrocities of war even as he related them. She had come to love Jared in a new dimension. She loved him fiercely, passionately, and protectively. Strong as he was, virile, stubborn and proud, she had discerned a shred of vulnerability. She loved that most of all.

Lauren longed to share with her husband the rewarding news coming out of Pueblo. Pepe, whenever the weather permitted, brought her news of the projects she had initiated. All were going well. A clinic had been set up two days a week. Remedial construction on public buildings was underway and more was planned for the spring. Warm clothes were being distributed to those who needed them the most. Pepe left with a detailed list of instructions for the committee chairwomen and a personal note of gratitude and praise from Lauren.

She wished to tell Jared about all of this, but she remained silent. She wanted to do or say nothing that would remind him of the events taking place in Austin and Coronado. For that reason, she had not broached the subject of the railroad and the Vandivers. It seemed that Rudy had.

“I know you feel that you have to go through with this, but there has to be some alternative, Jared,” he argued.

“I don’t see any other way. I’ve gone over every single aspect of it, and unless I carry out this plan, everything will go up in smoke.”

“Everything will go up in smoke if you do. Literally,” Rudy countered.