The Outlaw's Lady

He swallowed with difficulty, trying to look away. “I hope they are comfortable?”

She nodded, gazing down at them. “I daresay they’re more practical than what I wore here.”

“One might almost think you a señorita in a Mexican village, were it not for this,” he said, reaching out and touching the thick plait that ran halfway down her back. “It’s an unusual color for a mexicana.” He saw her blush then, and let go of her hair. What had he been thinking, to take such a liberty?

Then she looked very directly at him and asked, “Who’s Alma?”

The question surprised him so much that he replied in the same straightforward way. “Delgado’s former mistress. Why?”

She blinked at the information, but went determinedly on. “These are her clothes. I was wondering if she minds my borrowing them. Is she here somewhere?” She peered beyond the little creek as if she expected the woman to be standing just beyond it, glaring at her.

“She is no longer with us, Miss Hennessy,” he told her.

Tess gasped. “He killed her? Why?”

He could have kicked himself for phrasing the information that way as he saw the color drain from her face and her eyes widen. “No! I meant that she and Delgado are no longer together,” he said quickly. “The last I heard she was living in a village somewhere in the state of Zacatecas.”

“What…what was she like?” Tess asked. “Was she beautiful? Why did she leave?” Her blue eyes, alight with curiosity, made her face even more appealing.

“Very beautiful. But very temperamental. She didn’t leave willingly. Delgado got tired of her jealousy and her scenes, and left her there with a promise to visit her often. He’s never gone back.”

Tess looked thoughtful, and perhaps would have asked more, but at that moment Delgado stepped out of his adobe, once more dressed in his fancy Mexican colonel’s uniform, complete with ornamental rapier at his side.

“Ah, there you are!” he called, catching sight of them. “Come, come, Señorita Hennessy. I know you will not want to lose the light.”

It was many hours till sundown, but once Delgado was ready to do something, there was no gainsaying him, and they walked toward his hut, just as Esteban and Manuel arrived to move the wagon.

“You have had a little siesta, yes?” he said to Tess, as the two men muscled the cart over beside them. “I hope you feel rested.”

She nodded.

“And you find your quarters cómodo—comfortable? You have everything you need?” His eyes raked over her, and Sandoval saw him taking in her different appearance now that she had changed from her Anglo garments. If he had any thoughts about her wearing his discarded mistress’s left-behind clothing, it didn’t show in his opaque gaze.

“Yes, it’s fine. I—I don’t need anything.” She darted a glance at Sandoval, and her blue eyes flashed another story. Except my freedom.

“Bueno. We will commence then,” he said, as the two henchmen carried out an ornately carved ebony wood chair padded in red velvet. It was practically a throne.

Tess posed Delgado in the chair, much as she had posed Sandoval—had it only been yesterday?—and took his picture, then disappeared under the canvas to begin the development process. Sandoval saw Delgado fidget as he waited, sweating in the heavy uniform, for Tess to reappear.

“Is that something I could do for you, Miss Hennessy?” Sandoval called, stepping forward.

“I—I suppose it would make things quicker,” she said. “I’ll show you what to do after I take the next picture. If you came in now, the light would harm this one.”

When Tess emerged, she said, “Why don’t we pose you in a more active way this time? You could draw your sword, for example.”

Delgado beamed. “I believe you have the soul of an artist, Señorita Hennessy.” Grinning, he struck a pose, his right arm holding the sword dramatically aloft, his left hand on his hip.

As he had suggested, after Tess removed the collodion plate from this exposure, Sandoval ducked under the canvas with her. It was hard to force himself to pay attention as she showed him how to use the metal dippers to lower the plate into the developing bath, rather than to savor her nearness in the murky half light, but he didn’t want to ruin her pictures.

When she was ready to take the next exposure, she suggested, “This time, Mr. Delgado, why don’t you do like so…?” She lunged forward as if to parry with an imaginary rapier.

Delgado was clearly delighted at her idea and slid into the pose. “Señorita, you are un genio, a genius, truly! I already know I will be very pleased with your work, for the world will see Diego Delgado for the warrior he truly is.”

Tess couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm but laid a finger on her lips. “No talking now, Mr. Delgado, until we have made the exposure.”

Sandoval could hardly hide his own amusement as he ducked under the tent to develop picture after picture. If Tess was at all intimidated by her situation, she was hiding it well, and she was demonstrating a natural flair for appealing to Delgado’s vanity and sense of the dramatic. Sandoval knew Delgado saw himself not as a mere bandit leader, but something more heroic, more like Robin Hood leading his merry men, and Tess had instinctively sensed that, too.

They had taken perhaps half a dozen pictures, and Sandoval had just emerged from the tent after developing the last one, when Delgado decided he wanted to have Tess take his picture while he sat on his stallion.

Sandoval saw Tess glance skyward. “I’m afraid we are losing the light, Señor Delgado,” she said, pointing to the sun, which was beginning to make its descent behind the canyon wall. “Perhaps we could do that tomorrow?”

“Ah, but tomorrow Delgado and his men ride at dawn,” Delgado said, thumping his chest with one fist. “We will go on a raid, and there will be much booty! But perhaps that would be the ideal time for you to take my picture, eh? Both before, when I am ready to ride out on a victorious raid, and after, surrounded by fabulous plunder, sí?”

Tess nodded. “I will be ready to take the picture when you depart, Mr. Delgado.”

“Please, Señorita Hennessy, you must call me Diego,” Delgado insisted. He came forward and took her hand, kissing it. “And you must dine with me tonight in my quarters. I usually dine with my men, but tonight we must celebrate your arrival. And you will bring me the developed pictures then, all right?”

Sandoval saw Tess dart a frightened look at him, but before he could speak up, Delgado said, “Ah, you need not worry for your virtue, señorita, for I will have Sandoval dine with us. And Delores will be serving the meal, so that will be chaperones enough, sí?”

“Sí—that is, yes, I suppose that would be all right…Señor Delgado—”

Delgado wagged a finger at her playfully. “Ah-ah-ah, I am Diego to you, at least when the other men are not present,” he said.

“D-Diego, then,” she stammered. “Yes, I will have dinner with you and Mr. Parrish.”

“Bueno,” he said, and turned on his heel, then halted. “Oh, and wear your hair down, eh? It is such a lovely color—I would see the full effect of its fire.” It was a command, not a suggestion. He turned again and disappeared inside.

Sandoval felt his jaw clench and when he looked down, both hands had tightened into fists. He saw that Tess was staring at the bandit leader’s door and gnawing her lower lip.

He stepped closer so he could speak in a lowered voice. “Don’t worry, Miss Hennessy, I’ll be there the entire time,” he said.

“Until he orders you to leave,” she fretted.

He made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry. He likes to play at being the suave courtier, just as he reveled at posing as the master swordsman a few minutes ago,” he said reassuringly, but inwardly he was not so sure. He was six kinds of a fool to have gotten Tess involved in this. He ought to have foreseen that, having banished his woman weeks ago, Delgado would find Tess’s beauty tempting. He was going to have to walk a tightrope to fulfill both his promise to Pilar and to Tess.

Chapter Six

“Dinner is ready, Miss Hennessy,” Sandoval called through Tess’s door. “Delgado sent me to fetch you. Are you ready?”

She pulled the blanket door-covering aside, and he saw to his surprise Tess had not complied with Delgado’s command—instead of wearing her glorious, red hair down, it was drawn up in an elegant chignon held in place by decorative combs. Was it meant to be a subtle bit of defiance?

Good for you, he cheered inwardly, but then he saw how the hairstyle, coupled with the simple drawstring neckline of the camisa, left an enticing amount of her neck and shoulders bare for a man’s gaze. And perhaps she hadn’t noticed the subtle hints of Alma’s perfume that clung to the fabric. Sandoval smothered a groan. He was going to have his work cut out for him to protect Tess Hennessy without appearing to do so.

“The photographs are ready,” she said, pointing to where they lay, pinned to a drying board on the earthen floor. “Should I bring them?”

Sandoval shook his head. “No, let’s wait until after the meal,” he suggested. When we might need a diversion to distract Delgado from your very lovely self, he thought.

“I can always go get them for you,” he said.

“And leave me alone with him? Don’t you dare.”

He saw that beneath her bravado, she was nervous. “Very well,” he agreed. “We can send Delores for them.”

Delgado opened his door—a real door—before they even had a chance to knock. “Good evening, Miss Hennessy,” he said smoothly, beckoning them inside. “And to you, too, Sandoval, of course. But you put your hair up, señorita!”

“I’m sorry, but my hair is just so thick and heavy, and it’s so very hot. I hope you don’t mind,” she said.

“Mind? Of course not!” Delgado exclaimed, and Sandoval saw that he, too, was unable to take his eyes from her graceful neck and shoulders. “I want above all things that you should be comfortable here, Señorita Tess. And it happens that I have just the thing for you,” he added, crossing the room to a mahogany desk and opening a drawer. When he turned around, he held out an object to her—an ivory-handled fan.

“A gift for you, Señorita Tess,” Delgado murmured, watching in patent delight as she opened it and admired the hand-painted floral design revealed when she unfurled it. The breeze she created with the fan fluttered the fiery-red, curling tendrils about her forehead.

“Oh, but I could not accept such a lovely thing. I’ll just use it while I am here tonight.”

“Nonsense, I want you to have it,” the outlaw leader insisted. “Now come, dinner awaits you. I hope it will be to your liking.”

Delgado gestured toward one end of a long, rectangular table lit by long beeswax tapers flickering in a pair of silver candelabra. Three place settings of elaborately painted china, heavy silverware, and cut-glass goblets stood at the ready. A nearby sideboard was heaped with an array of savory-smelling dishes.

Delgado held a chair for Tess on his right and indicated that Sandoval was to take the seat on his left, so that Sandoval was sitting opposite her. Delores came forward and filled the cut-glass crystal goblets with claret from a crystal decanter.

“I…Would it be possible for me to have water instead, please, Mr. Delgado?” Tess asked, looking uneasily at the blood-red liquid. “I…I don’t drink spirits, you see.”

Delgado blinked. “You are…how do you say it? A teetotaler? I see,” he said when she nodded shyly. “Delores! Agua para la señorita, por favor,” he said, and the old woman came forward with another glass and a pitcher. “That is most commendable, señorita.” He turned to Sandoval. “I think we should toast our lovely guest, do you not? ¡Salud!” he said, lifting his glass, and Sandoval did likewise. “To our guest, Tess Hennessy, a long and happy life!”

Sandoval watched as a faint flush of color rose up Tess’s cheeks. “Thank you,” she said, leaving her eyes downcast. Sandoval suspected she had never been toasted before in her life, and marveled at the blindness of Anglo men.

“Delores has surpassed herself tonight,” Delgado announced, indicating the dishes on the sideboard. “We have chicken with mole sauce, which I warn you is rather spicy, carne asada, ensalada guacamole, as well as the usual black beans and rice.”

“All of this is for the three of us?” Tess asked, her eyes wide.

“Sí, to celebrate your arrival. Of course, my table does not look like this every night, you understand,” Delgado told her, obviously reveling in being the bountiful host. “On nights when we have come home late from a raid, I am lucky to get a bowl of warm soup, eh, Delores?”

The stolid-faced old woman nodded.

“Please, allow me to place a sampling of the dishes on your plate,” Delgado said to Tess, “and when you have decided what you like, you must have more, eh? But save room for dessert at the end,” he warned.

“Only a little, please,” Tess pleaded. “At home we do not have such a big meal at night.”

“Ah, but at home you do not sleep through lunch, do you?” Delgado asked with a chuckle. “Don’t worry. I like a woman with a hearty appetite.”

Sandoval saw Tess dart a look at Delgado that plainly said, “I don’t care what kind of woman you like,” but Delgado was concentrating on serving her and didn’t see it. Once he had placed the plate in front of her, she hesitated, and Sandoval thought she was waiting for Delgado and himself to make their selections, too. But when they had both done so, she still did not lift her fork. Surely she wasn’t refusing to eat? But then he saw her duck her head and close her eyes for a moment, and realized she was silently saying grace.

How long had it been since he had thanked God for what he put in his mouth? Pilar had always been the one to bless the family dinners.

He saw that Delgado had also noticed what she was doing. Then Tess raised her head, and both men picked up their knives and forks and pretended they had not been watching her.

“Tell me about yourself, señorita,” Delgado invited, after a moment or two. “I know little about you except that you are a lady photographer. Tell me of your family.”

Tess shrugged, unconscious that the gesture called attention to her lovely shoulders. “There’s not much to tell,” she said, and went on to tell Delgado what Sandoval already knew of her family.

“Have you ever been away from home like this?” Delgado asked.

As Sandoval listened, Diego Delgado effortlessly drew her out. She told them about being sent away to a fancy finishing school, which purported to be all that was needed for a young lady of good family to be ready to make a brilliant marriage.

Who knew that a notorious outlaw like Diego Delgado could be such a good host, Sandoval mused. He could see Tess relaxing in the midst of Delgado’s concentration on her answers and was glad for that, at least.

“But how did you develop an interest in photography?” Delgado inquired. “It is an unusual pastime for a lady, no?”

Spearing a piece of the spicy chicken and dipping it in the chocolate-based sauce, Tess told them about her uncle James, who had been a Brady photographer and had taught her all she knew, and about her goal of going to New York to work for Brady.

Sandoval pretended absorption in his beef as he fought the surprising sense of jealousy that twisted his gut. He should be the one plying Tess Hennessy with clever questions, drawing her out, not this scoundrel! She had been standoffish with him when they had met at Taylor’s, but surely with time and charm he could have won the right to court her.

And so he might have been the one, if he hadn’t decided first to use her to achieve his own goal regarding Delgado.

“Ah, you are a woman of amazing ambition,” Delgado purred, after taking a long draft of his wine. “Do you not wish for a home? A husband? Babies to dandle on your knee?”

Sandoval saw two spots of color spring to Tess’s cheeks and sparks flash from her eyes. “Jefe, I think your question may be a little too personal…” he began, but Tess found her voice before he could finish his sentence.

“I’d like to ask you a question or two, Diego,” she said, biting out the words. “Such as, how did you develop an interest in thievery? Especially thievery on such a grand scale?”

Slowly, deliberately, Delgado laid down his knife and fork in turn. The color had fled from his face. “How did I become Delgado, scourge of the Rio Grande Valley, you mean? This land is rightfully Mexican, Tess Hennessy. So I don’t really feel that I am doing anything wrong—I am merely taking back those possessions which should belong to my people.”

“But people have been killed who sought to protect their property from you and your men, Señor Delgado,” she protested.

Sandoval could see the nerve jumping in Delgado’s temple and knew the outlaw was perilously close to losing his temper at her outspokenness.

“I kill no one who does not resist us,” Delgado said.

“That is your excuse?”

Sandoval knew it was time to intervene. Delgado had been so affable a host before they got on this subject that Tess had forgotten who and what he was. Beneath the table, he very gently but firmly put his booted foot down on Tess’s foot. “I think you have said enough, Miss Hennessy,” he warned. “Do not forget you are a captive here, and dependent on Delgado’s goodwill.”

Yes, that’s it, he thought, when she transferred her indignant gaze to him. Show me your anger, not Delgado. It’s much safer.

He increased the pressure on her foot, hoping she’d take the hint and not insist on having the last word.

Her eyes were disks of ice as she stared at him, her mouth a thin, tight line, but she held her peace.

“I believe you will be pleased at the pictures Miss Hennessy took today, jefe,” Sandoval said, praying Delgado was ready to let go of the conflict, too. He turned to Delores, who’d been half dozing in a corner of the room, asking the old woman to bring the photographs from Tess’s hut.

Delores was back in a few moments, and Delgado was so thrilled with the results of Tess’s first session that he was once again beaming at her, all his wrath forgotten.

“You are a true artista, Señorita Tess,” Delgado enthused, kissing his fingers at her as if the past, tense moments had never happened. “A genius of daguerreotype, isn’t she, Sandoval?”

“Indeed she is,” Sandoval said, watching Tess warily.

“And it was masterful on your part to think of bringing her to me,” Delgado went on, slapping Sandoval on the back. “Thank you, my loyal amigo!” He turned back to Tess. “And you will be ready at dawn tomorrow to take the pictures of me on horseback, just before we ride out on our raid, sí?”

Tess nodded.

“That being the case, perhaps I should escort Miss Hennessy back to her quarters so that she can get her rest,” Sandoval said, rising.

“Oh, but we have not had our dessert,” Delgado protested. “Delores makes the best flan in Mexico, perhaps in the world!”

Tess rose also, protesting that she couldn’t eat another bite, as polite as any guest could be.

“Then go and get your beauty sleep, señorita,” Delgado said, bowing. “Sandoval, after you have seen her safe inside, summon my other lieutenants and come back. We need to plan our strategy, eh?”

Tess was silent until Delgado closed the door and she was alone with Parrish on the short path to her hut.

“I’m sure I can manage the rest of the way by myself,” she told him, her voice burning with suppressed fury. “Go summon the rest of his lieutenants as you were told.” She mimicked Delgado’s accent mockingly. “You have strategy to discuss, don’t you?”

“Woman, hold your tongue,” Sandoval snapped, taking hold of her elbow so tightly she almost squeaked at the sudden, unexpected roughness. He yanked her along and pushed her roughly inside the hut, and to her alarm, followed her inside. The interior was dimly lit by a flickering tallow candle burning in a niche in the adobe wall above a pallet like the one Tess had slept on.

“Now, just a minute,” she began, beginning to realize too late she might have pushed him too far. “I didn’t invite you in—”

Chapter Seven

His dark eyes smoldered down at her, frightening her with their intensity.

“I had to come in, since apparently you have no more sense than to mock me right outside Delgado’s quarters,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t care how you feel about me,” he told her, “but don’t you think he’d be listening at the window for what you might say? You can’t take hints, evidently, so I came inside to tell you what you need to hear.”

“Oh, and what is that, pray tell?” she retorted, with all the bravado she could muster.

“Don’t think you can be insolent with Delgado, Tess. He may act the courtier at times, but don’t forget he’s an unprincipled bandit. You’re going to have to mind that redheaded temper of yours and at least pretend to respect him and his men if you hope to get out of this situation unscathed.”

“How dare you, Sandoval Parrish?” she demanded, taking a step forward and thrusting her chin out. “I wouldn’t be in this situation, as you so charmingly put it, if it weren’t for your desire to curry favor with that same unprincipled killer!” She was too angry at him to care that they were alone in this hut, and she was very much at Sandoval Parrish’s mercy.

His head snapped back as if she had slapped him, and he paled. For several endless moments they stared at one another, breathing hard. Then Parrish walked past her and she thought he was leaving, but he only went to the door and stood there for a few moments, peering out into the darkness. Tess realized he was making sure no one was nearby.

He walked back to her. “You’re right, you wouldn’t. You have every right to think the worst of me, Tess Hennessy. And I can see why you’d think I had you kidnapped to make myself look good to Delgado—but I’m telling you that’s not exactly the case. There’s more to it than that, and it’s up to you whether you believe me or not. The best thing you can do is trust me, and mind what I tell you. I told you I wouldn’t let any harm come to you.”

“But why, Sandoval? What do you hope to gain?” she demanded, self-control slipping, the tears of outrage and fear suddenly threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.

His gaze became more intent then, and she realized she had unconsciously called him by his first name for the first time.

“I can’t tell you that, Tess,” he said. “Not yet, anyway. I…you may not believe this, but I’m not a bad man.”

Something about the softness of his tone and the kindness in his eyes was her undoing, and she gave in to her tears. Then suddenly he was holding her, patting her back as she wept. There was nothing disrespectful about the way he held her, but even so, Tess knew she should move out of his embrace. But it felt comforting and right, and she remained where she was until her tears stopped.

He took a step back from her then, regret that he must do so showing clearly in those dark eyes of his.

“Buenas noches, Tess,” he whispered. “Go to bed now. Delores will be along as soon as she has cleared Delgado’s table, and will sleep out here,” he said, indicating the rolled-up straw pallet. “No one will bother you.”

Dazed, Tess watched him turn and lift the blanket door, and then he was gone.

Leaving the candle lit in the wall niche for Delores, she walked into her bedroom area and saw that the lace-trimmed muslin nightgown she’d found in the trunk was laid out on the pallet for her. She changed quickly into it in the darkness, unpinned her hair, then lay down on the pallet, sure sleep would come with difficulty if it came at all.

Now that Parrish had held her—and she had allowed him to do so—she was more confused about who he was than ever before. What kind of a dangerous game was he playing with Delgado? She’d thought she knew why he’d kidnapped her, but he had said she was wrong, that she didn’t know the real reason. Could she—should she believe that he was on the right side?