“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” Jared demanded.
“Because I knew you’d react exactly as you’re reacting,” Rudy replied calmly. “I think we should exercise caution and keep an eye on them, but I don’t want to provoke them into any more meanness.”
“Okay,” Jared said grudgingly. “But by the end of next summer, I want them off of our property. When the railroad is finished, the vaqueros won’t have to be driving the cattle to Austin. They can assume more duties toward maintaining the ranch. One of those duties can be clearing the cedar. We won’t need that scum anymore.” He gave one more disgusted glance to the carcass, then spun Charger around and spurred him to a gallop.
* * *
When Wat Duncan struck again, it was swift and sure and deadly. To say the least, it got the attention of the Locketts and Mendezes and proved to them what a powerful enemy the man and his gang were.
Lauren and Maria had arranged the night before to meet in the stables the following morning for a sunrise ride. They had grown accustomed to riding together at that time of day.
Lauren crossed the yard and strolled toward the stable. She was wearing a black suede riding skirt and coat. Her boots were soft black leather, as were her gloves. The ensemble had been a belated Christmas present from Jared. She had wrapped her head in a long, woolen serape loaned to her by Gloria and, of course, she was wearing the blue silk bandana. The vapor of her breath hung in the cold morning air. The door to the stable was closed.
Strange, she thought to herself. Maybe it was so cold that Maria had chosen to leave the door shut against the wind. But it wasn’t windy, Lauren argued with herself.
The door was heavy, and she had to tug hard several times before it came open. The interior of the stable was dark. It was quiet except for the restlessness of the horses.
“Maria?” A sinister chill, having nothing to do with the weather, crept up Lauren’s spine, and she was suddenly afraid to enter the building. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that no one was stirring in the house. She had left Jared asleep under the covers of their bed. Elena hadn’t yet arrived with Carlos to begin her day’s duties.
“Maria?” Lauren called again, praying for the sound of Maria’s soft voice. Swallowing a lump of fear, she stepped into the stable. She didn’t need to go far.
Maria’s body was sprawled out in front of her. Even in the darkness, Lauren could see the pool of bright blood forming beneath her.
Her scream ripped through the morning air. Fists clenched at her sides, then rose to cover her mouth, but didn’t stifle the screams of terror that kept coming. She was vaguely aware of cursing and nonsensical mutterings as the doors to the bunkhouse were thrown open and the vaqueros stumbled out in various stages of undress, their eyes bleary from sleep. Running footsteps came pounding across the yard.
Her screams had dwindled to faint whimpers as she heard someone say, “Madre de Dios!”
Rudy pushed her aside and moved cautiously toward his mother, disbelieving his eyes. Strong arms gripped her shoulders. “Don’t look, Lauren,” Jared said in her ear as Rudy knelt down to turn Maria’s body over. Jared’s warning came too late. She saw the gaping windpipe with its gurgling fountain of blood where Maria’s throat had been neatly sliced. She screamed again, but the sound was muffled against Jared’s bare chest as he held her head against him, supporting her wilting body with his.
He led her out of the stable so she wouldn’t have to witness Rudy’s grief. They could hear his deep, soul-piercing animal wail. Lauren sobbed dryly as they walked past the vaqueros standing awkwardly, their eyes averted, instinctively knowing what had happened.
* * *
Gloria and the sleepy-eyed children were huddled together on the front porch. Gloria’s lips were white, her eyes questioning.
“Maria,” Jared said tersely. Gloria squeezed her eyes shut, intuitively understanding as she heard her husband’s racking sobs.
“Come into the house, children.” To Jared, she said, “I’ll get some coffee.”
He only nodded as he ushered Lauren into the house. She stood mutely just inside the door as he went into the bedroom to pull on pants and a shirt. When he came back, he knelt down on the hearth and began rekindling the fire.
It came as a great surprise to Lauren when Rudy’s shadow blocked the dawn light coming in through the door that had been left open.
There were no tears. Instead, his eyes were hard and cold, devoid of any emotion except bitter hatred. He tossed something onto the floor and Lauren jumped back from it, staring in horrified comprehension. Jared looked at the object, too. There was no mistaking the battered, greasy hat that was usually worn on Wat Duncan’s head.
“You going with me?” Rudy asked his brother.
“I’m going,” Jared said quietly.
Without another word between them, they went through the hall toward their bedrooms. Gloria came out of the kitchen carrying a coffee pot and three tin cups. When her eyes lit on the hat on the floor, she set the coffee on the dining table and went to the gun rack.
While Lauren watched in stupefied astonishment, Gloria methodically took down the rifles, checked them, loaded them, and set them aside.
When they were dressed, Jared and Rudy joined her and, like well-trained soldiers preparing for battle, they moved without wasting words or motions.
When all was ready, Rudy drew Gloria to him and held her tightly. “One of the vaqueros will bring her in after we’ve left. See to her.” He kissed his wife quickly on the lips and strode from the room.
Lauren was spun around from behind. Jared kissed her fiercely, almost angrily, before he released her and followed his brother out the door. She rushed after him.