Three days later, on a cool, crisp morning at the close of November, Jacey was ready to leave Cielo Azul. For good. Dressed as she was the day she left home, she tossed Knight’s saddle across his broad back. Tethered outside his small corral, the danged gelding gave a mighty shudder that threatened to see the saddle in the dirt. Poking her bottom lip out, Jacey held it in place. But when she attempted to tighten the cinch, the big horse sucked in a gust of air and held it. “Dang you, Knight.”
She attempted a second cinching of the saddle. Again, Knight bloated his stomach with his held-in air. Jacey poked her bottom lip out. “You asked for this.” She kneed the horse’s belly, forcing him to exhale. As soon as his girth deflated to normal, Jacey pulled the cinch tight. “Aha, gotcha.”
Behind her, seated across the top rail of a facing corral, some caballeros chuckled and made a few comments in Spanish. Jacey spun around to glare at them. The men sobered appropriately, despite a few anonymous snorts of laughter. Frowning, Jacey pulled her saddlebags off the fence railing and flung them over Knight’s back. He sidestepped. The overstuffed bags hit the sandy ground like a thrown broncobuster. Shouts of laughter came from behind her. Jacey whipped around, but the men had scattered to the four winds.
Her angry words died on her lips. Her glare vanished from her face. Zant was standing there. He hadn’t been only a moment ago. Looking as cool and fresh as the morning air felt, and as tall and strong as the mountains behind him, he smirked at her. Clad in his denims, a blue shirt under his leather vest, his Stetson low over his brow, and his Colt strapped to his hip, he sipped gingerly at a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. He then teased her with a grin. “I figured I’d find you at the source of all the laughter. What’re you doing?”
Words and courage failed Jacey. She spun back to Knight and fiddled with straps already in place. “What’s it look like, Chapelo? I’m saddling my horse. The ornery son of a gun’s been let run wild this past week. He doesn’t want to leave.”
Her hands stilled with her last words. She stared blankly at the quickly blurring saddle in front of her. She swiped a sleeve across her wet eyes.
“Leave? Where you headed?”
Jacey smoothed her shaking hand down the multicolored blanket under Knight’s saddle. “Home.”
“Home,” Zant repeated, as if he’d never heard the word before.
Jacey moved up to Knight’s head and clutched at his bridle. She stroked his soft muzzle. “That’s what I said.”
“Yeah, it is.” He was silent a moment, but then he added, “You figuring on passing through Tucson?”
Jacey nodded. “That’s where I pick up the trail.”
“You stopping long enough to say good-bye to Rosie and Alberto?”
She nodded again. “Yep.”
“And maybe go to church?”
Jacey frowned as she smoothed a lock of mane over Knight’s forehead. She chanced a peek back over her shoulder. He was serious. “Church? The way I see it, Chapelo, I’ve been in church twice, and I’ve been dragged out twice, both times by somebody with a gun in his hand. I believe I’ll most likely forgo church.”
He nodded and pressed his lips together, as if her words required great thought. Then he said, “Figure you’ll make good time getting home?”
Jacey turned back to Knight. Her efforts to draw in a deep breath forced her head up and back. “I figure I will. If I can beat the snows.”
“Shouldn’t be too much of a problem until you get close to Santa Fe.”
What with the sudden lump in her throat, she could only nod her answer. Knight chose that moment to nudge her, forcing her back a step. One step closer to Zant.
Apparently finished with being polite and friendly, Zant erupted in a snarl of anger. “Look at me, Jacey. If you’re going to leave, then have the guts to turn around and tell me to my face. You haven’t said one word in the past three days about this. Were you just going to sneak away? Is that how little I mean to you?”
Hands fisted at her side, her chin jutted out, Jacey turned to him. “I figured it’d be easier.”
“For who—you? I never figured you for a coward, Jacey Lawless.” Zant glared at her.
Despite his insult and her heart’s wrenching beats, Jacey maintained her stiff, stubborn stance. “I’ve done what I came here to do. I’ve got my answers, I’ve got my keepsake back, and I’ve got the ruby necklace for Glory. Don Rafael is buried, Cielo Azul is yours, and the men who didn’t take off or manage to get themselves killed are all loyal to you. You’ve got your life all set up here.”
“What’s stopping you from being a part of it? I’ve held you in my arms while you cried, while you fought me, and while you loved me, Jacey. And you held me when I needed it most. Was all that a lie?”
Jacey blinked, felt weak in her knees. “It was no lie. But there’s … too much bad blood here. It’s just too soon for us, Zant. I can’t—” She paused, telling herself there would be no more beating around the bush concerning the fears that lodged knifelike in her heart. “All right, Zant, here’s the truth. Don Rafael’s men are still out there, still following his orders. So, what am I going to find when I get home? Are my sisters going to be dead? If they are … I have to tell you … I can’t promise you how I’ll feel. About you.”
Zant’s first response was to toss aside his coffee, cup and all. Then, his black eyes squinting under the low brim of his Stetson, he threw his hands up in a helpless gesture. “That’s hard, Jacey. Too hard. I can’t undo my bloodlines. Why are you making this impossible? Three days ago, you begged me to forgive my grandfather. And you were right. But now, where’s the forgiveness in your heart—for me?”
Jacey lowered her gaze to her boots, but then raised her head to look him in the eye. “I’m not saying I’m right. I’m just saying it’s how I feel. Three days are a long time to think, Zant. And I’ve made up my mind. I’ve got to leave, got to get home. If Glory’s … still alive, I’ve got some hard news for her. It’s only right she hear it from me. And if she’s not alive … then I’ve got some burying of my own to do.”
Her piece said, her heart full, she turned back to Knight and picked up her saddlebags. She threw them across the now docile gelding’s rump and settled them in place. There. It was done. All she had to do was mount up. And leave. Still, she hesitated, unable to shrug off his presence behind her. Only a short distance separated them, but it was widening.
“Just tell me you don’t love me. That’s all I ask.”
His softly spoken words hurt more than his yelling. Jacey’s next breath came in shuddering gasps. Turning her head only an inch or so, just enough to direct her words over her shoulder to Zant, she said, “I can’t do that, outlaw.”
Then, without looking back, without another word, she mounted Knight, turned him, and rode out of Cielo Azul.
* * *
“Rosie, venga aquí! It is our Catarina!”
In the early evening of the third day after she left Cielo Azul, Jacey reined in Knight in front of Alberto’s noisy Tucson cantina. And found she could smile again. Alberto’s joy made her shake her weary head. She chuckled and waved back at him. His eyes lit up, and he threw his hands up as he danced a few steps. Suddenly, he sobered enough to cross himself and send a muttered prayer heavenward.
Jacey’d no more than dismounted before Alberto engulfed her in his warm and fatherly embrace. Stepping back, he looked her up and down, frowned, and chattered steadily in Spanish. His chiding tone told her plainly enough that he didn’t like what he saw.
Jacey chuckled. “I am a sight, aren’t I, Alberto?”
Blinking, Alberto switched to English. “I forget to use the English for you. And, sí, you are the sight for the eyes that hurt. We have missed you very much. We have said many prayers for you. And we have lit many candles.” He then turned and bellowed into the cantina. “Rosie! Venga aquí—ahora! It is our Catarina!”
He’d no more than said it before Rosie came tumbling out of the cantina. A crowd of curious men wedged into the doorway behind her and at the windows. Laughing, crying, Rosie grabbed Jacey by her shoulders and smacked a loud kiss on both of her cheeks. Beaming, still holding her, she stepped back to look Jacey over, just as Alberto had. Her cheer turned to a frown as she spoke to her father. “She does not look well, no? She is skinny now.”
Alberto raised a finger and shook it, his face appropriately serious. “We will put the fat back on her bones, yes?”
“No,” Jacey broke in, making sure her voice was firm. If these two got rolling with a plan, she’d still be here come Christmas. “You won’t. I’m staying just the night. I’ve got to get home as soon as I can.”
Rosie’s frown deepened as she released Jacey. “Your face says you have been through much, mi amiga.”
To her utter embarrassment, Jacey felt her chin quiver and her eyes fill with hot tears. She blinked and jutted her chin out. “Yes, I have. And not too much of it good, Rosie.”
Rosie stared sympathetically and then exchanged a look with Alberto. Apparently he understood her meaning because he nodded and made a shooing motion at the girls. Rosie turned to Jacey and held her arm out, as if she wanted Jacey to step into her embrace. Surprising herself, Jacey did just that.
“Come,” Rosie ordered as she settled her arm around Jacey’s shoulder. “Papa will see to your horse, and we … you and me … will go around back to your room. And then, you will tell Rosie all about it, no?”
Sniffing in earnest now, Jacey nodded her head. “No. I mean, yes.”
* * *
Jacey slept later than she’d planned. As she quickly washed herself over the basin, she peeked out of the room’s window and made a sound of disgust. The sun was already high above the horizon. Alberto’d sworn last night that he’d wake her at dawn. But he obviously hadn’t. Now, by the time she dressed and saddled Knight, she fussed, it’d be danged near noon. She was losing precious daylight.
Tossing aside the washcloth, she dried off and quickly braided her hair. Getting dressed was only a matter of slipping back into … She reached for her split skirt and blouse and underclothes, which she’d tossed last night onto the chair … and stared. Her clothes were gone. The fury of her Lawless temper exploded over her frowning hot face. She stomped naked to the door, jerked it open, and yelled “Rose!” into the narrow and empty hall. No answer.
“Rosie,” she bellowed again. “Where’re my danged clothes? If I have to, I’ll ride out of here naked. I swear I will.”
That worked. The door from the cantina opened and Rosie stepped through. Her eyes widening, she shushed Jacey. “Catarina, lower your voice. Already there are thirty men out there cheering and wanting to see you do just such a thing. Your clothes will be here in a moment. They are being brushed and readied for you, that is all.”
Rosie walked toward Jacey as she spoke. Jacey yanked the girl into her room and closed the door. Hands to her bare waist, she took out her frustration on Rosie. “Why wasn’t I awakened at dawn?”
Rosie frowned as she looked Jacey up and down. “Please, Catarina, cover yourself.” As Jacey jerked a sheet off the bed and wrapped herself in it, Rosie explained, “My poor father and I were very much tired after last night. We too slept over. Only the thirsty men banging on the cantina doors awakened us. We meant to wake you as soon as we opened our business.”
Somewhat mollified … and feeling guilty, seeing as how she was the reason they’d been up most of the night, Jacey settled down some. “I’m sorry I yelled. I’m just fretting about getting on the trail to home. When will my clothes be ready?”
Rosie looked everywhere but at her as she answered. “Um, soon.”
Looking askance at her friend, Jacey narrowed her eyes. “What the heck is going on, Rosie? Exactly when will my clothes be ready?”
Rosie shot a darting glance to the window behind Jacey and instantly brightened. “They will be ready now. I will go get them.” With that, she turned and yanked the door open.
Jacey jerked around to the window. Nothing there but the outside. She turned back to the open door and the dim hall beyond it. And frowned.
* * *
“I’m telling you for the last time, I don’t want to go to church before I head out. It’s already past noon, and I need to get going.” Despite her protests, Jacey was already halfway to the mission church. “And why does everyone from the cantina have to go with us?”
She turned in her saddle to look at their following. A crowd of grinning horsemen tailed them. She looked again to Rosie and Alberto, both of them jostling along in their small, loose-jointed wagon. A sleepy old nag pulled it.
Handling the reins and watching the way ahead, Alberto spared her a glance. “Is it so much to ask, Catarina, that you do this one last thing for us? That you go with us and give thanks to the God who saw you safely through your troubles? And these men—any time they spend in a church can only do their souls good.”
Guilt and shame lowered her gaze to her nicely brushed split skirt. “I suppose you’re right.” She raised her head and glared at her two friends’ solemn yet wide-eyed faces. “But right after this mass, I’m leaving. You understand that?”
Two grinning faces and nodding heads met her words. Alberto then turned his attention to the looming white church ahead. “Here we are. San Xavier del Bac.”
Jacey and her following reined in, dismounted, and tethered their horses in the otherwise deserted wagon yard. Taking a deep breath, she resigned herself to the next hour. What could it hurt? She then looked up to the towering spire of the holy building. And remembered the last time she’d been here. That Sunday when Zant’d stalked in and yelled for her and she’d left with him.
To her grateful surprise, the memory wasn’t as painful as it was funny. Well, maybe being in church was just what she needed.
She turned to Alberto and Rosie, only to find that Alberto was making for the entrance and herding the men ahead of him. Rosie was rummaging around in the back of the wagon. She came up with two lace shawls and two small bouquets of flowers. Jacey frowned as she removed her slouch hat and took the offered shawl from Rosie and placed it over her hair. She tossed her hat into the back of the wagon and asked, “What’re the flowers for?”
Rosie thrust the bigger bouquet into Jacey’s hands. “For … you. And me. For an offering.”
Jacey looked at the fall wildflowers in her hand, and thought for a moment of home. She roused herself and said, “All right. Let’s go.”
Rosie grinned and stepped in front of Jacey. “Me first. It’s, um, tradition.”
Getting steadily irritated, Jacey barked out, “Fine. Just go, will you?”
And go, Rosie did. Stepping along smartly, she got Jacey to the church doors in double time. Once there, she slowed to a step-pause-step cadence that made Jacey all but trip over her. As Jacey cussed under her breath, she followed Rosie as best she could. Organ music swelled at their entrance.
No more than two steps into the sanctuary, Jacey stopped cold. The church was packed. And everyone was standing and staring at her and Rosie. Jacey’s mind raced. Was this Sunday? No. A church holiday? Well, how was she supposed to know? Then, what? She tapped Rosie on the shoulder and whispered, “Where’re our seats? Everybody’s staring at us.”
Over her shoulder and out the side of her mouth, Rosie whispered back, “Up front. In the first pew.”
“What?” Jacey’s voice was no more than a croak. “I don’t want to sit right up front.” She nodded as she passed some of the men from the cantina. “Let’s sit with them.”
Rosie grabbed Jacey’s arm. “No. We must go up front.”
Whispering loud enough to make herself heard over the organ music, Jacey fussed again. “Why?”
Rosie jerked her up even with herself and pointed toward the altar. “There. That is why. Now, walk.”
But Jacey couldn’t. She’d taken root where she stood. That damned Zant Chapelo stood there by the same priest he’d scared the hell out of not too long ago. All shined up and in his best clothes, and with Paco and Blue and Victor all duded up and ranged alongside of him, the outlaw had the guts to grin at her.
Jacey put her fisted hands and her bouquet to her waist. Rosie looked back at her and frantically urged her forward. Oh, she’d go up there, all right. She go up there and wipe the smile right off that polecat’s face. She’d been tricked into a wedding. They were traitors, all of them.
She called out their names in her head. Rosie, Alberto … she tromped forward, passing Rosie, and making for the altar gate. She looked from side to side, studying at the congregation. There were Conchita and Esteban and Manuel. She stopped short and stared at their smiling faces until Rosie fled past her. Dumbfounded, Jacey watched her friend stop and turn to stand beside the waiting priest.
Suddenly, none of it seemed real. Jacey turned in a slow circle, taking in the crowd, the music, the men and the women of Cielo Azul, the three groomsmen, her … groom. Oh, it was real enough. She stalked over to Zant and got right in his face. “Outside, Chapelo.”
The organ music dribbled off on a sickly note and the church became deathly quiet. Even the chubby, ruddy priest dared only clear his throat.
Zant smiled down at her. “Can’t. Not yet. Not until we’re married.”
“We—” Her voice was a squeak. Over a hundred sets of eyes bored into her back. She started out with a yell. “We are not”—and lowered her voice to a hiss—“getting married.”
Zant grabbed her by her resisting arm and turned her to face the priest with him. He didn’t seem to care how loudly he spoke or who heard him. “Yes we are. Preacher, I’ve been living in sin with this woman”—Jacey gasped right along with everyone else—“and I’m asking you to marry us and set that to rights. I fear she may already be carrying my child, and I—”
Jacey screeched and hit his arm with her bouquet. Dried petals drifted to the floor. “Will you quit saying that? I am not.”
Zant looked down at her, his black eyes as affected by his grin as his mouth was. “You could be.”
Jacey squirmed and cast a wary glance at the disapproving priest. “I’m not,” she told him. She then turned back to Zant. “What about all that stuff I said at Cielo Azul? I still feel that way.”
Zant sobered and slipped his hand down her arm to take her hand. “I know you do. And I respect that, Jacey. It won’t be easy. There’s bound to be some rough times ahead. But the difference is, I want to help you through them.”
Feeling the tension of the churchgoers ease, hearing the murmurs, Jacey fought the love swelling in her heart and welling in her eyes. “I could end up hating you.”
Zant smiled. “You won’t. You love me, Jacey. You love me, and you need me to help you through what’s at home. You stood by me at the worst moment in my life. Did you really think I wouldn’t stand by you when your time came? We all”—he indicated Blue, Paco, and Victor, and then swept his hand over the congregation—“we all want to help you and be your family, too.”
And that was another question. Jacey leaned in toward Zant. He bent over until his ear was to her lips. “How’d you do all this?”
He grinned and whispered into her ear. “We followed you up here. Early this morning, I told Alberto and Rosie my plan. They delayed you until we got the signal to them that we were ready. Now, are you going to disappoint all these folks and embarrass me, or are you going to marry me?”
But Jacey had still another question. “Who’s minding Cielo Azul?”
Zant chuckled. “Right now, my neighbors at Villa Delarosa. But after the wedding, Blue’s taking everyone home, except Victor and Paco—they’re going with us. Blue’ll be in charge until we get back from No Man’s Land.”
With that, he straightened up, still looking down at her. Jacey quirked her mouth as she thought about it. “Cielo Azul.”
“Could you come to think of it as home, Jacey?”
She searched her heart, thought of the folks there, and realized she was nodding. “I might.” She then searched Zant’s face. “But I’m not sure.”
He pulled her close to his side. “Fair enough. We’ll worry about it when the time comes, okay?”
Jacey nodded. But yet another question presented itself. “Zant, why didn’t you wait to see if I worked things out at home and then came back to you?”
Zant made a disbelieving noise and chuckled. “And leave something as important as love up to your Lawless pride and reckless heart? I didn’t dare.”
Jacey laughed. “All right, outlaw. I’ll marry you. But you may have some answering to do up in No Man’s Land, what with your last name and all.”
Zant grinned again. “Why do you think I’m changing your last name to mine long before I get there?” He winked and mouthed, “I love you.”
Her heart bursting, Jacey mouthed it right back.
Zant gave a whoop and turned her with him to the waiting congregation. “She said yes!”
A rising swell of emotion filled the church. Over every cheer, over the renewed burst of the organ music, drowning out everything else, except for Jacey’s and Zant’s love for each other, was the cry, “¡Viva el jefe! ¡Viva la jefa!”