He straightened as he cast a worried look around the clearing. Katie went hunting this morning, and should have been back before now. He’d give her a few more minutes.
Under her watchful care, his wounds were healed fast. Two days ago, when she went hunting, he saddled his horse and tried to get into the saddle. The first step brought sweat to his forehead, but he made it. Soon it would be time to ride. The thought of Pagan Reeves brought anger every time. Soon, by God.
Glancing at the trail, he saw Katie striding up the path, carrying a small whitetail deer across her shoulders. “Another day, another feast?” He noticed a fine sheen of sweat on her brow, and her breath sounded ragged from carrying the heavy deer. “What would you do if you shot a big one?”
She took a deep breath, stretched her shoulders and smiled at him. “I don’t shoot big ones.”
He decided to change the subject. There was no use beating a dead horse… or deer. “Any sign?”
At once, she was serious. “None to speak of.”
“I went up the bluff today.” He gestured at the peak behind the house.
She looked at him critically. He knew she wouldn’t see any blood, because he’d changed his shirt. He’d leaked a little. “And?”
“With those high-powered binoculars we found, you can see this whole country. It looks like Starking is still in his camp. I was worried he would go ahead and take over the town.”
“Pagan still has it.”
That startled him. “How—?”
He could tell she didn’t want to tell, but then she relented. “I scouted up pretty close to town. Found little Tommy fishing the creek. He let me know. Most of the townspeople are hiding in the hills. Pagan and his bunch are just lying around. They seem to be waiting for something.” Her eyes searched his worriedly. “If you go, they’ll be all over you.”
“I know.” He suddenly changed the subject. “Found out something about this place today when I was up on the hill.”
Her raised eyebrows asked the question.
“Solar power.”
She looked blankly at him. He had forgotten how young she was. “Electricity. You know how they generate it at the mill, by turning a generator? Years ago, they perfected a way of collecting the sun’s energy and turning it into electricity. All I had to do was clean off the collectors and hook up the batteries.” He smiled at her. “Although the batteries are in bad shape, I think there’s enough power for a small surprise tonight.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Batteries.”
“Yes. They’re little….”
She dumped the deer at his feet and he was surprised at the gruffness of her voice. “Surprise me with this. If you can climb that bluff, you can skin a deer. I’ll go clean up.” She paused, looking back at him. “I wouldn’t want to miss anything tonight.”
12
Later they sat on the floor of the living room, their backs against the couch. Content, with venison steak nestled in their bellies. The pale glow of an illuminated dial washed over their features. Although they might still work, Trent had elected not to try the main lights in the house. The old car batteries were still weak, and he wanted all their power for his surprise.
Katie was leaning back against him, sitting between his legs, her long hair smelling sweet and clean. “What’s this called again?”
“A CD player. Compact Disk.” He wrapped his arms around her, clasping his hands across her middle.
“And it’s just music… no words?”
Earlier he’d tried to explain the concept. “This isn’t some folk singer, banging on a banjo and singing through his nose.”
“Uh-huh. Well, let’er rip, old-timer.” Slowly the music filled the room. After a quick, and delighted, look toward the speakers, she settled back to listen. Minutes later the power stored in the batteries ran out, and she was wiping tears from her cheek. She turned and looked at him, looking deep into his eyes. “It was so sad.”
“And also very beautiful. Just like you.”
Her voice was soft. “Why? Why did you do that to me?”
He thought a minute, and the more he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he’d made a good decision. “I don’t really know. Just so you could hear something of what we’ve lost, I guess. Maybe I needed to share the sadness with someone. Or, since you’re so young,” he gave her a squeeze. “I thought you needed educated.”
She kept silent for a couple of minutes before she spoke. “It’s OK then. As long as we share.”
They were silent for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally… “What’s the name of the music?”
“Adagio for Strings, by Samuel Barber.” He could see her mouthing the words.
“I’ll remember that.”
Turning her around to face him, he kissed her tenderly. The kiss lasted a long time. When he finally broke away, she remained with her eyes closed, lips partly open. “I want to make love to you.”
She bit him lightly on the lips. “Like on the trail?”
“No, not like on the trail. That was more like spontaneous combustion. We needed each other. This will be different, and it’ll take a long time… maybe the whole night.”
They joined and when their lips parted again, she breathed softly into him. “Sure you’re up to this?”
Her startled laughter, as he lifted her to the couch, turned into a long, soft, sigh.
13
The Watcher was proud of himself. It was time, and he’d found someone worthy. She came alone from one of the smaller houses surrounding the ranch of Consuelo Sanchez. A basket in hand, she was picking blackberries and stopping to pull collard greens from the bog.
When she was out of sight from the buildings, he came up behind her and hit her at the base of the neck with the edge of his hand. She dropped like a stone, her basket spilling on the path. Picking her up, her long black hair spilled over the Watcher’s shoulder. Close up, she was even better than he had hoped. Barely into her teens, she was nubile and firm, and radiated a freshness he could smell and taste. The Watcher would take his time with this one.
14
“John…?”
“I hear them.” He reached for his rifle as he went out on the front porch.
Horses. Single file, and coming up the trail. He stood just outside the door, leaving it open in case he wanted to duck inside in a hurry. Katie was around the corner of the house and behind the breastworks of a woodpile, making an effective crossfire if they needed one.
They didn’t. The first rider into the clearing was Chico Cruz. Behind him were ten of his men, all mounted on magnificent horses. Erect and haughty in the saddle, and sporting more guns than an arms dealer, his men looked tough and competent as they gazed curiously around the clearing.
“Light and set.” His traditional western greeting carried across the small clearing. Chico nodded to him, then shot rapid fire Spanish to his men. They headed toward some shade at the edge of the clearing, two of them breaking off to dismount and walk into the forest.
Sentries.
Bad news.
Katie, her rifle slung across her back, joined them as the two men shook hands.
He could see Chico was troubled, yet the man tried to keep up the social amenities. “This is a good place…”