Authors: Leigh Greenwood
"Why didn't he tell me?" Valeria sobbed.
"Because none of us would have believed him," Luke said. "Otto was paying very generously for your protection. The worst that could be said of him was that he was a snob and a glutton." Luke paused. "He was probably supposed to kill you under cover of the attacks and blame it on Indians. Only someone forgot to tell your uncle the Indians in this area were sent to Florida years ago."
"I can't believe Uncle Matthais would do this," Victoria sobbed. "Hans must have been wrong. Uncle Matthais didn't want me to leave Belgravia, but when it became clear we all had to leave, we had long discussions about what to do to make sure I was safe."
Luke figured her uncle had probably wanted to keep her in Belgravia so he could poison her or have her die from some mysterious wasting disease. When she had to leave, he entered into discussions for her safety so he would better know how to arrange her death. Clever and ruthless tactics.
"What do you want done with these bodies?" Zeke asked.
"You can throw Otto into the desert," Luke snapped.
"Let the coyotes tear him to pieces. Put Hans in his tent. I'll see to his burial."
"We've got another casualty," Zeke said.
"Who?" Luke asked.
"One of the cook's helpers. Shot right through the brisket."
Valeria cried harder.
"Anything else?" Luke asked.
"Nothing important. Your coming up from behind did the trick. One of the attackers is dead."
"I know," Luke said. "Now get these bodies out of here."
For the first time since Luke had known him, Hans didn't look nervous or jumpy. He looked at peace, as though having done his job, he could rest at last. Despite his own cynicism, Luke envied him that death, the feeling that his life had been worthwhile, that he'd given it in a cause he believed in with all his being.
Luke reined in his thoughts. He'd never allowed himself to be swayed by sentiment. This was no time to start.
"I want him buried in Belgravia," Valeria said.
It was on Luke's tongue to say that was impossible, but the words died unsaid. Hans deserved to be buried with honor, not left in a grave that would soon be swallowed by the desert. "We'll have to bury him here, but as soon as I can, I'll send his body back to Belgravia. Does he have a wife or children?"
"No, he always said my family was his family." She started to cry all over again.
"He was a brave man," Luke said. "A bigger man than I gave him credit for."
A moan from the corner reminded him of Elvira. Apparently she'd fainted. She couldn't be of any use to Valeria if she fainted every time there was a crisis. Then he remembered the blood on Valeria's clothes. If it didn't belong to Elvira, it must belong to Valeria. "Where did he shoot you?" he asked.
"It's nothing," Valeria said.
"It needs taking care of. It could become infected." "He just grazed my arm."
Luke saw the small hole in Valeria's sleeve. He pushed the sleeve up on her shoulder. The bullet had gone through the fleshy part of Valeria's arm. It wasn't a bad injury and wouldn't disable her, but it would hurt and take some time to heal. He waited until two of the drivers had removed Hans's body.
"Are you recovered now?" he asked Elvira. She seemed on the verge of fainting again. "Can you sit with Valeria till I get back?"
She nodded, but Luke had the feeling it would be the other way around. He met Hawk when he left the tent.
"Get rid of Otto and the man I killed. I don't care where."
"You don't want the other one buried?" Hawk asked. "Yes, but I've promised Valeria I'll send his body back to Belgravia. Bury him where animals won't get to him and mark the grave so you can find it again." "Me!"
"Yes. As soon as you get these wagons to the ranch, have them build a coffin. Then come back, get the body, and ship it to Belgravia."
Unlike Zeke, Hawk's expression rarely changed. Luke could hardly ever tell what he was thinking. "What?" Luke said, impatiently, when Hawk just stood there.
"Zeke was right."
"I don't know what Zeke is right about, but Valeria wants Hans buried with his family. Since he lost his life defending her, that doesn't seem too much to ask." "You bury him with honor?" Hawk said. "As much as I can get."
"That's good. I liked him."
Luke had admired him. He hadn't known how much until too late.
"I'm going for my saddlebags. Otto shot Valeria in the arm „
"Bad?"
"Just a flesh wound, but I'm sure she's never been hurt before."
But as Luke went to retrieve his saddlebags, he realized Valeria hadn't cried, complained, or even mentioned her wound. And she hadn't appeared the slightest bit faint.
He grabbed up his saddlebags and strode back to her tent.
She had a right to be more than shocked. She'd been shot, seen the man who'd saved her life stabbed to death, and learned her uncle wanted her dead. She should have been the one who'd fainted, not that useless maid. He still didn't approve of royalty, but if this was an example of their courage and fortitude, Luke had greatly underestimated them.
When he reentered the tent, Valeria and Elvira still sat where he'd left them. He dropped his saddlebags next to the bed. "Let me help you up," he said to Valeria.
She looked for a moment like she was still too stunned to move, but she held out her hands. He pulled her to her feet and led her over to the bed.
"The wound looks pretty clean already," he said, "but it's better to be safe." He reached inside his saddlebags to get the bottle of whiskey he kept for such occasions.
"You can't take care of the princess," Elvira protested.
"What do you suggest I do?" Luke asked without slowing his preparations. "Leave her wound to heal itself?"
"She needs a physician."
"We're in the middle of a desert, Elvira," Valeria said.
"I doubt there's a doctor within ten miles."
"More like fifty," Luke said. "And he'd do exactly what I'm about to do. Grit your teeth. This will burn."
He poured a liberal amount of the whiskey directly into the raw wound. Valeria's swift intake of breath and the stiffening of her body told him more about her pain than the fleeting expression that crossed her features. Her body remained rigid for at least ten seconds before it began to relax again. "Good girl," he said. "You do your ancestors proud."
"You despise my ancestors."
"I despise monarchy. I don't necessarily despise the monarchs."
"Isn't that a rather fine distinction?"
"Yes, but it's a valid one. I don't despise you. In fact, I admire your courage."
He didn't look up, but he could tell that caught her by surprise. Him, too. He wasn't used to praising women, even those who deserved it. He opened a tin of ointment and spread a liberal amount over the wound.
"What's that?" Elvira asked.
"An ointment," Luke replied.
"It doesn't look very good."
The salve looked like old grease.
"It'll have to serve until I can get her to a doctor," Luke said.
"You must send for one immediately," Elvira said. "He wouldn't come for a simple flesh wound," Luke said.
"But she's a princess," Elvira said.
"Not in this country," Valeria told her maid. "I'm like everybody else. A doctor would come for you just as quickly as he'd come for me."
That appeared to be a concept beyond Elvira's understanding. Luke was surprised it wasn't beyond Valeria's as well.
"That is true, isn't it?" she asked.
"Yes. Now I have to bandage your arm. Let me know if I get it too tight."
Valeria made no protest, and he soon had the wound safely bandaged.
"Do you have anything to help Valeria sleep?" Luke asked Elvira.
"Yes."
"I don't want to be doped," Valeria said.
"Give her a mild dose," Luke said to Elvira. "I want her asleep before the wound begins to throb." He looked around the tent. It was in shambles. "And straighten up as much as you can. It'll make it easier for her to forget what happened."
"I'll never forget," Valeria said.
Luke was certain she wouldn't. "Get as much sleep as you can."
"Are those men gone?" she asked.
He'd been so preoccupied with Hans's death and Valeria's wound, he'd forgotten about the attack. "Yes, they're gone. I'll post guards to make sure they don't return. You don't have to worry. No one is going to hurt you again."
But it hadn't been the gunmen who'd shot her. It had been Otto, a trusted retainer. Her sense of betrayal must have made her feel doubly insecure. He took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. Then he drew back the covers on her bed.
"I want you to lie down and get some sleep. You're tired and-"
"Don't treat me like an imbecile!" she snapped. "I'm not tired. I'm frightened and upset and sick to my stomach that I should have been the cause of Hans's death.
You may be used to killing people all the time-you killed two tonight and don't appear to have given it a second thought-but I'm not a paid killer. I can't even treat Otto's death as though it's of no consequence."
Luke knew what he was. He'd accepted it years ago, but Valeria's words felt like poison-tipped arrows piercing the thick protective armor he'd built around himself. He felt himself flinch.
"People have to kill to protect princesses. You ought to be damned glad I'm the one who did the killing. If Hans hadn't begged me to wait until you changed your mind, you'd be dead by now. Remember that before you make snap judgments about people. Get some sleep. Starting tomorrow, everything's going to be different."
He turned and left the tent before he could say anything more. He didn't know if he'd ever been more angry, but it was the hurt that surprised him. He hadn't realized Valeria's good opinion was so important to him. It was obvious a woman like her could never understand a man like him. He was a fool to care, a stupid fool to let it hurt.
"Don't go to sleep," he rapped out to Zeke and Hawk. "I'm going to read everything in Hans's and Otto's letter cases. Then I'll decide what to do about the princess."
"He must really have it bad," Zeke muttered as Luke entered the other tent. "I never heard him call her
the princess
before."
The canopy of stars twinkled against the deep blue of the night sky. The cool air that occasionally wafted up from under the trees by the river felt good against skin heated by Zeke's cook fire. Luke held Valeria's marriage contract in his hands. "This is the key to the whole situation," he was saying to Hawk and Zeke. "Money."
"It's always about money," Zeke said. "What did you expect?"
"According to this, if Valeria dies before her marriage, her entire inheritance reverts to her uncle."
"So what's the problem? Otto's dead and we'll deliver her to this Rudolf in a couple of weeks. Then she'll be off our hands."
"I'm not so sure about that."
Luke had spent a large part of the night in Otto's tent, going over the papers in his and Hans's carrying cases. He'd learned something about the minds of the men who were the hereditary leaders of one small European country. They would do anything to retain their power, including betraying allies, destroying friends, even sacrificing family.
"What's wrong now?" Hawk asked.
"These people care about only one thing, their power as rulers. I found papers in Otto's carrying case that prove Rudolf is planning to raise an army to reclaim his throne."
Duke Rudolf was such a man, and nothing stood between him and restoration to his ancestral throne but the money to raise an army. Valeria's dowry would provide him with that money. The minute the marriage was final he would have no reason to keep a wife who objected to his spending her fortune that way. Living in the remote country of the Mogollon Rim, Rudolf could dispose of Valeria without anyone knowing.
"That doesn't concern us," Hawk said.
"He's planning to use Valeria's dowry."
"So?"
"Suppose she doesn't want him to use her money to raise an army."
"They can fight it out like married couples."
"People like Rudolf don't
fight it out
with their wives.
They issue orders which they expect to be obeyed." "I still don't-"
"Suppose she decides she doesn't want to marry him." "What are you getting at?" Zeke asked. "If she doesn't do what he wants, there's nothing to stop him from locking her up and taking her money. Or worse."