The Master Fiddler Part 11

A chair leg sc.r.a.ped the floor as Choya savagely yanked it away from the table. "Save it, Jacquie. I'm not in the mood to argue."

"Really?" she mocked.

"I've had a long day and I'm tired." He drew the words out through a tightly clenched jaw.

"Do you have a headache?" Jacquie taunted. "I thought that was a woman's excuse."

She poured an equal amount of cocoa into each cup and carried them to the table. Choya was standing beside the chair, his hand gripping the back, a trace of white around his knuckles. Her breathing changed to a quick, uneven rate. She set the cups on the table and reached shakily for a chair.

"Are you trying to provoke me into making love to you again?" he accused in a voice that was harshly soft.

Her head jerked toward him. "No!" she gasped the denial.

Frozen by the mesmerizing quality in his narrowed tawny gaze, she didn't resist when his hands closed over her arms and drew her toward him. The descending mouth tipped back her head, automatically arching her body toward him. The warmth of his kiss melted her bones, making her flesh pliant against the hardness of his length.

For so many days, Jacquie had felt empty inside. Now that hunger was being fed by Choya's hard embrace. Greedily she parted her lips to receive more, and his kiss deepened with satisfying pa.s.sion.

A tanned hand slid up her shoulder to push aside the collar of her robe. His mouth began a sensual exploration of the exposed hollow of her throat. The wild song singing through her veins suddenly became a familiar tune and she remembered with searing clarity when she had heard the notes before.

Her hands lifted to strain against his chest, twisting her body to elude the exquisite caress of his lips. "Please, let me go, Choya," she begged while she still had sufficient control to protest.

Smoothly he swung her off her feet into the cradle of his arms. The smoldering gold of his eyes burned over her face. Her heart skipped a beat, then accelerated madly at the promise of possession in their depths.

"You can't seem to make up your mind, can you?" His voice caressed her in a husky murmur. "I'll help you decide."

And he carried her out of the kitchen to her opened bedroom door. For an instant she was too overwhelmed by his mastery to struggle, then at the sight of the turned-down covers of her bed, her resolve came back. "Put me down, you low, contemptible beast!" she hissed. "That's what you are an animal!"

Choya laughed and set her down without releasing her. His gaze moved suggestively over her rigidly erect form, almost physically touching her curves.

"You don't mean that," he smiled crookedly. "Don't pretend to be unwilling. You've already revealed otherwise."

"I loathe, hate and despise you!" Jacquie tried to pull free of his grip. "I can't stand to have you touch me. It's disgusting."

"It's strange that you don't show the way you supposedly feel," Choya mocked.

"What do you expect me to do?" she cried desperately. "I want to leave! I want to get away and you won't let me go! You keep on insisting that you must be paid. And the only way you'll let me pay is like this! I try to do what you want, but I can't. I can't!"

The sardonic glitter left his gaze as he studied her intently. He seemed to hesitate, testing her words and expression to see how much truth they contained.

The angry glitter of proud tears s.h.i.+mmered in her turquoise green eyes.

"Isn't there some other way I can repay you?" she demanded in a choked voice. "Must you degrade me further?"

A frown creased his forehead. He released her wrist to brush corn silk hair from her cheek. Jacquie drew back from his touch, leaving his hand suspended in midair.

"It was never my intention to degrade you," he said quietly, letting his hand fall to his side.

"Wasn't it?" Disbelief silently accusing him of lying.

"Believe me, Jacquie, I never intended to hurt you." One corner of his strong mouth lifted in a brief, self-deprecating smile. "I thought you were harder. I never guessed it was a brittle mask of sophistication that gave you that appearance. If I'd known, I would never have voiced the terms of payment to you."

"Now that you do, I suppose you feel the damage is done and why should I object?" she taunted sarcastically.

"No!" he denied harshly. "I don't think that. Tonight I believed that you " He clamped his mouth tightly shut, paused for an instant, then spoke more calmly. "I won't bother you anymore."

"Then let me go!"

Choya held her proudly demanding gaze for a long, hard moment, then, pivoting, he walked from the room without giving her an answer.

After a restless night's sleep, Jacquie awakened to the strident buzz of the alarm clock. She dressed swiftly, wondering all the while if Choya would hand her the car keys this morning and tell her she was free to leave.

There was no sign of him in the kitchen. Jacquie hesitated at the hall leading to the living room. Perhaps she should find him to see if he had made a decision. On second thought, she would rather have him come to her. There was no need to beg for her freedom.

In a few minutes, Robbie would be coming for breakfast. As she started to fix it, she thought sadly of his reaction when he learned that she would be leaving. Not that she intended to tell him this morning.

Jacquie wasn't even certain that she would be leaving immediately. But after what Choya had said last night, she couldn't think of a single reason why he should force her to stay.

The food was on the table. Jacquie, Robbie, and Sam Barnett were all sitting down and eating when Choya came in from morning ch.o.r.es. His encompa.s.sing good-morning nod told her nothing. She tried to ease the anxiety The Master Fiddler of waiting with the reminder that he would probably

want to speak to her alone before letting the others know.

"Dad " Robbie paused as he finished spreading peanut b.u.t.ter over his toast " can we go to Fort Bowie this Sat.u.r.day?"

"I don't think so," Choya replied.

Robbie grimaced. "But you promised to take Gramps and me this summer,and it's already September. Summer is over.""I made the promise before you broke your leg," came the firm reminder.

"So?" Pale brown eyes looked at Choya blankly.

"So you can't very well go with a cast on your leg," he explained

patiently.

"I can go anywhere on my crutches," Robbie a.s.serted. "Up anddownstairs and all over."There was a dubious shake of the dark head. "It's over a mile walk to the fort over some pretty rough terrain."

"We can make it, can't we, Gramps?" Robbie turned to Sam for confirmation.

"Eventually," the older man agreed with wry humor, "if we had all

day."

"We could go all day." Robbie seized on his grandfather's words."Jacquie could pack usa lunch and come along. We could all have a picnic together. Please, Dad?"

"We'll see." Choya lifted a coffee cup to his mouth, avoiding a directanswer."What's there to see about?" Robbie wanted to know."Where is this Fort Bowie?" Jacquie asked when Choya flashed his son an impatient glance.

"At Apache Pa.s.s," Robbie answered, forgetting his argument with his father for an instant.

"It's the ruins of the adobe fort built back when Cochise was making

his raids," Sam Barnett explained. "It was to protect the settlers and traders going through Apache Pa.s.s. Later it was the main base during Geronimo's War. When he surrendered, the fort was abandoned. Now it's a National Historic Site."

"I bet there's lots of neat arrowheads and junk," Robbie declared. "Can we go, dad?"

"Don't keep pestering your father," Sam Barnett warned. "He's just as like to tell you that you can't go 'cause you asked him so many times."

"But Jacquie wants to go, don't you, Jacquie?" The corners of his mouth sulked The Master Fiddler downward. "She's never been there before and neither have I for years and years."

"You aren't that old," Choya answered dryly. "Between now and Sat.u.r.day I'll think about the trip. But don't keep asking me if we're going or I might do just what Gramps said."

"Ah, gee!" Robbie grumbled, and dunked his toast into a gla.s.s of milk.

"How'd that bull look this mornin'?" Sam asked.

"Better. You'd better check on him a couple of times this morning," Choya suggested.

"Where are you goin'?" Sam glanced up in surprise.

The tawny gaze slid briefly to Jacquie. She held her breath, wondering if he intended taking her into town and seeing her on her way out of it.

"To check the north fence," he answered, and set the empty cup back on the table.

Her hopes sank as Choya rose from the table. Why was he making her stay here? What did he hope to gain? Surely he didn't think she wanted to be here?

Confusion clouded her eyes as she watched him walk toward the small hallway leading to the back door. With a determined thrust of her chin, she decided she wasn't going to leave it alone.

Quickly she pushed her chair away from the table and followed him. He was nearly at the screen door when she entered the hall, her lighter footsteps drowned by the firm tread of his.

"Choya?" she called.

He paused, one hand holding the screen door ajar as he waited for her to reach him. His aloof gaze read the unvoiced question in her eyes.

"I won't be back for lunch," he said, and walked out of the door, again avoiding an answer.

Jacquie stared hopelessly after him.

r

CHAPTER NINE.

Perched on top of the corral fence, Jacquie munched an apple. The buckskin was waiting patiently for his share, nostrils flared, inhaling the scent in antic.i.p.ation. Sighing, she handed him the core, absently ruffling his black forehead.

After two days, she was no closer to discovering what Choya's plans were. There was an unshakable sensation that to stay here much longer would be disastrous. The more she tried to ignore the feeling the stronger it became.

Restless and uneasy, she hopped down from the fence into the corral, wiping her palms on the tan denim of her slacks. She grabbed hold of the buckskin's halter and led him through the door into the barn, then she saddled and bridled the docile horse and was ready to lead outdoors to mount up.

She stopped and looped the reins over a stall board. There would be no more waiting: the decision was made in a split second. She wouldn't remain a prisoner on this ranch another minute. She left the buckskin tied in the stall and hurried into the house.

Working silently to avoid wakening the sleeping Sam Barnett, she stuffed a few essentials into a pillowcase. She didn't have any choice except to leave most of her things behind. It was impossible to carry them all on horseback. She would have to risk sending for them later surely Choya wouldn't want to keep them. Her clothes certainly wouldn't be of any use to him.

Hesitating in the kitchen, Jacquie considered packing a lunch. It was nearly afternoon now and by nightfall she would reach some type of habitation. Besides, it would waste time. The longer she lingered here, the more risk she took that her plan might be discovered, either by Sam Barnett or Choya's unexpected return.

Astride the buckskin with the pillowcase tied by a string to the saddle horn, she had to make another decision which way to go. The most direct route would be to follow the rutted lane to the graveled road and onto the highway. It was also the direction Choya would expect her to take, and the flat landscape would enable her to be seen at long distances.

Reining the horse away from the lane, Jac-quie touched a heel to its flank and set off at right angles to the track. Once she was out of sight of the ranch house, and a considerable distance from the lane, she would turn and parallel its direction and not be in sight of anyone on the lane. It was a bold plan that just might work.

Because of the far-seeing distances of the desert, Jacquie rode at a trot for almost two hours before she completely lost sight of the ranch buildings. Her angle of flight had taken her into the foothills of the Dragoons.

An animal trail branched off to the right, a parallel line with the ranch lane. For the time being at least, she decided to follow it. If the trail turned into the mountains, she would abandon it.

Although the trail wound and twisted, dipped and climbed, it maintained the general direction that Jacquie wanted to take. The problem was that time was going by and she wasn't covering as much ground as she had thought she would. The rocky terrain and her limited horsemans.h.i.+p forced her to keep the buckskin at a walk.

Concerned about the sinking sun, she absently blamed the buckskin's uneven gait on the broken path. When they reached a smooth stretch of sand, it didn't alter, and glancing down, she saw he was favoring his right front leg. She stopped him and dismounted, cursing her rotten luck.

With her hands on her hips, she studied the surrounding land. She had accomplished one of the goals she had set out to do. She was away from the ranch and had avoided the well-traveled lane. There wasn't anyone in sight and not a sign of a building. And she was on foot with a lame horse.

"Come on, Johnny," Jacquie sighed heavily and took a short hold of the reins. "We certainly can't stay here."

Leading the limping buckskin, she continued on the narrow trail. The first dryness of thirst was in her throat, and the hollowness of coming hunger was in her stomach. She was beginning to realize just how foolish she had been. She had packed no food and carried no canteen of water.

When she had first come to the ranch, she had recognized the danger the mountain desert held for the unwary novice. During the last ten days, she had become familiar with the unending ruggedness of the landscape, but with that familiarity had come a subconscious The Master Fiddler contempt for its silent warning. What retribution would the desert exact for her foolishness?