His hand came up to her cheek, brushed the hair back from her temple. “Finding you gone… I was the one who was frightened. I could not bear the thought that you might be hurt.” Through the blur of her tears, the gold in his eyes seemed to shimmer. He stared into her face as if his gaze could touch her soul. Moments passed. She was certain he meant to kiss her. Then a long weary breath escaped and he turned and walked slowly away.
Ramon crossed the clearing trying not to think of Carly and what had nearly occurred. Instead he gathered Viento’s reins, led the stallion away from where he grazed, and returned to the clearing. Resting his hands on Carly’s waist, he lifted herup on his saddle, setting her astride the horse, then with brisk, deliberate movements, swung himself up behind her, encircling her in his arms. He could still feel her trembling, still feel the tiny shivers running through her small body. His own heart hammered dully.
He had never been so fearful, so close to losing control, never felt such overwhelming anger as the moment he had seen her in the clearing with Villegas. He’d forced himself to wait, take the time he needed to work himself into position. Cisco stood so close to Carly he couldn’t chance a shot, and somehow he had needed to end the man’s life with his own hands.
It was a feeling he had never experienced. He hoped he never would again.
Holding her protectively against him, he rode back to the clearing to gather the other horse’s reins, then headed deeper into the woods. He wouldn’t go far. In the morning, he would return to bury Cisco’s body—if the wolves didn’t get to him first.
Ramon reached down to smooth Carly’s silky copper hair. She was nearly asleep, he saw, exhausted by the grueling journey and the bandit’s brutal assault, her small head nestled against his shoulder.
She was a virgin, she had said, and Ramon did not doubt it. It pleased him that no other man had touched her, but it angered him too, for he knew he could not be the one to claim her. He would not hurt her again, and that is all that could happen. Carly needed a husband, and Ramon was determined his children would be born of Spanish blood.
He smiled to think of the fight she had given Villegas. She was tough, this littlegringa.A fighter. She deserved her freedom.
He wished more than ever that he could let her go.
***
“Why do you do it, Ramon?” They were sitting beneath a huge black oak on a ridge overlooking a small pleasant valley. The sun sat low on the western horizon, its bright yellow rays lighting the golden grasses, dry mustard, and wild oats. An eagle soared above them and quail scattered like seeds on the wind as Ramon tossed a pebble into the center of the covey.
“We fight for the return of our lands,” he said. “It is as simple as that.” They had been traveling slowly. Ramon must have guessed how tired she was, how her muscles ached from the newness of riding for so long.
“You’re breaking the law. That makes all of you outlaws.” For the first time since the night of the raid, she had begun to consider what the future would hold for Ramon and the families in the stronghold. She wouldn’t have thought it could happen, but she was worried about him.
“To our way of thinking, we are not outlaws. We are just men trying to regain what is rightfully ours.”
“People often make misjudgments, invest unwisely. That does not mean they’ve been treated unfairly.”
“The government caused us to lose our land.”
“How? I can’t imagine they would purposely do something like that.” If only she could make him see how futile his efforts were, perhaps he would stop his raiding. Then he would be safe.
She looked at him, saw a muscle clamp in his jaw.
“You do not think so? Perhaps it was not done on purpose; there is no way to know for sure. Three years ago, your government passed a number of sweeping reforms. They were supposed to settle land disputes, to ease the tension between Mexican Californios—men who had just lost a war to thegringos—and immigrant Americanos. But the Californios were not prepared to deal with American law.”
He stared out over the valley, his painful memories etched in the lines of his face. The quail began to cluster again, to peck atthe loose seeds and berries scattered across the fertile soil but another stone shooed them away.
“Go on,” Carly urged gently. “I’d really like to know what happened.”
Ramon sighed into the darkness. “The Californios had lived on the land for so long they took their ownership for granted. Theirdisenos—maps showing the boundaries of their grants—were often missing. The deeds that did exist were contested by thegringos.The grants were old, the boundaries marked by vague, indiscernible descriptions: streams that had long ago changed course, two leagues north to a skull’s head on a rock, a right angle westward to the fork in a bent oak tree, that sort of thing.”
“I see.”
“Then the vultures swept in. Men like your uncle. They schemed and plotted with othergringos,found ways to steal our lands.”
Carly tensed, the back of her blouse rustling against the bark of the oak. “My uncle? Surely you don’t believe he’d be involved in something like that. My uncle’s a highly respected member of the community. It’s obvious you dislike him. What I’ve never understood is why? What could he possibly have done to you?”
He looked at her strangely. “You do not know? Your uncle never told you?”
“Told me what?”
“That before he came, Rancho del Robles belonged to the de la Guerras. Your uncle stole our land.”
The breath seemed towhooshfrom her lungs. It couldn’t be true. Ramon was lying. Carly stiffened even more. “You can’t expect me to believe that. My uncle is not that kind of man.”
“You hardly know him,chica.You have been in California only for a very short time. But you are not a stupid woman. Soon enough you will discover that what I say is the truth.”