There was only a slight hesitation.“Si, patron.”
Ramon just nodded, worry for Andreas overriding all other thought. As the men rode away, Ruiz in the lead, Enriquez riding with the girl, he returned to where Sanchez stood next to his brother. He was nearly unconscious, his limp form slumped over the horse. Clamping his jaw against the fear that wrenched through him, Ramon took the reins and led the animal into the cover of the trees, next to a small shallow creek.
With hands that were no longer steady, he lifted Andreas from the saddle and heard his low moan of pain. “Do not worry, little brother. Ramon is here. Everything is going to be all right.”
Sanchez unfurled his bedroll and they rested Andreas upon it. Ramon tore open his brother’s linen shirt with clumsy fingersand removed the red-stained rag Pedro had stuffed into the wound to staunch the flow of blood.
“Madre de Dios…”Ramon’s heart squeezed inside his chest. He clenched his jaw against the sight of his brother’s torn flesh, at the shattered rib protruding through the smooth, dark skin and the frothy blood bubbling out of the hole with each of his brother’s ragged breaths.
“I am… sorry, Ramon,” Andreas said.
“Do not try to speak,” Ramon whispered, a hard lump rising in his throat. He blinked back a sudden well of tears. “You must try to save your strength.”
A wheezing sound rattled past his brother’s bloodless lips.
Ramon smoothed back the younger man’s damp black hair. “Por Dios,Andreas,” he whispered, “why could you not have listened?”
Andreas opened his eyes. When he saw his brother’s face, saw the wetness trickling down his cheeks, his own eyes moistened with tears. “Do not… torture yourself… Ramon. The raid… was my idea. The fault was… mine… not yours.” He coughed raggedly, the motion jolting him, knifing him with so much pain that perspiration broke out on his forehead. Ramon tried to steady him, but his hands were shaking so badly, he couldn’t hold on.
“Rest easy, little brother.”
Andreas moved his head. “Tell… our mother… that I love her.”
Ramon’s throat went so tight for a moment he could not speak. He reached out and gripped his brother’s hand, holding on as hard as he could, wishing it was he who lay on the bedroll, he who suffered such unbearable pain.
“And also… Tia Teresa,” Andreas whispered.
“I will tell them.” Ramon could barely force out the words. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks, dampening the front of hisshirt. He wasn’t prepared for this. Mother of God, he hadn’t suspected his brother was wounded so badly.
“As I also love… you… Ramon.”
Ramon’s dark head dropped forward. He repeated the same words to his brother, words he had never spoken to another living soul.
Andreas coughed again, riddling his body with pain, and Ramon felt it as if the agony were his own. Amazingly, when his brother rested quietly once more, a corner of his mouth curved up, etching the grooves in his cheeks.
“You said… one day… a woman would be the death of me. In a way… I guess it was… the truth.” Then his eyes slid closed, a last soft breath whispered past, and Andreas de la Guerra was gone.
“No. Nooo!” Ramon threw back his head and cried out into the darkness. It echoed into the stillness of the night, a terrible shriek of pain, an agony so deep it seemed it would tear him in two. The sound was primitive, savage, like the keen of a wounded wolf.
Wordlessly, Pedro Sanchez eased away from him, his eyes as wet as Ramon’s. “Vaya con Dios,my friend,” he whispered to Andreas, his deep voice rough and strained. Making the sign of the cross, he moved off toward the horses. He returned a few minutes later with a blanket, which he gently laid over Andreas’s still form. Neither man spoke. There was nothing left to say.
Still it wasn’t until several hours later, his heart so heavy he could not speak, that Ramon finally released his brother’s lifeless hand.
CHAPTERFOUR
Torn between exhaustion and fear, Carly huddled beneath the branches of a tall, thick-trunked oak tree, her hands bound in front of her, her feet tied at the ankles. For the rest of that night and all through the day, they had driven the horses relentlessly, Carly now riding in front of the stout vaquero the don had called Enriquez, her body aching with every bone-jarring step his bay horse took.
They separated from the others at the bottom of a steep-walled canyon, five men and the stolen horses heading north, she and the others riding on toward a destination she could not begin to guess. When they finally stopped just as darkness began to fall, her gag had been removed and a young vaquero named Ruiz had brought her something to eat, but the plate of roast rabbit sat untouched, cold and congealing in the evening chill. A few feet away, the man called Enriquez stretched out on his bedroll, his wide sombrero pulled down to cover his broad face.
Like the others in the camp, he slept only fitfully, awakening at the slightest sound, alert for whatever danger might follow. Carly hadn’t slept at all. Instead, her tired eyes searched the darkness, looking for the man who had taken her, awaiting his return, terrified of what he meant to do.
She shivered to think what that might be: torture, rape, murder. She had heard the stories about him. She knew the kind of man he was.
She closed her eyes against the ghastly vision and finally drifted into an exhausted sleep. She awoke with a start to thecrunch of pebbles underfoot in the silent graying dawn, and the knowledge that someone stood in front of her. Heart pounding madly, she jerked fully awake, her frightened gaze darting to a pair of tall, black boots. Her vision slid up long, lean legs encased in tight black breeches; narrow hips; a waist that veed to a wide, solid chest; and broad, straight, powerful shoulders. She forced her eyes upward, and stared into the face of the handsome Spanish don, Ramon de la Guerra.
Relief swept over her, so fierce it almost made her dizzy. The Spaniard had found her. Instead of being murdered she was safe!
“Don Ramon—thank God!” She pushed to her feet in front of him, staggering a little, righting herself with an effort. “I-I was so frightened. I thought… thank God you’ve come.”