Rio Read online

  Cimarron took a deep breath. “I don’t think that’s what happened at all.”

  “I don’t understand it,” Harriet murmured and walked over to the desk to pick up the leather case that held the pistols. “Edwin was an expert shot and very familiar with these guns. They’ve been in our family at least fifty years. My husband was killed by these very pistols and by your father-in-law.”

  Her expression turned ugly and for a moment, Cimarron thought the woman would hurl the case at her. She remembered then what she had been told, that years ago, the old Don Diego Durango had indeed fought a duel with the senior Forester and killed him for attempting to seduce and then insulting the don’s beloved Cheyenne wife, the gentle beauty Velvet Eyes.

  “Mrs. Forester, I don’t think Edwin was confused and I do think he deliberately short-loaded the one pistol, but I also believe he intended to take that pistol himself.”

  “Why?” Mrs. Forester’s pale turquoise eyes flashed sparks.

  Cimarron took a deep breath. “I had a conversation with Edwin less than an hour before he died.”

  Harriet’s eyebrows went up and she looked puzzled. “The guard did say a blond-haired woman visited Edwin’s office just before he left for the duel. Why were you there?”

  “What I told Edwin, I’m going to tell you now,” Cimar-ron said. “And you must never breathe a word of it. It changed Edwin and I think it will change you.”

  “It will not!” Harriet snapped. “And another thing, I was given that copy of his will this morning by his lawyer, and he leaves all his wealth to that Mexican girl. I assure you I will fight it all the way to the Supreme Court. The vixen will not get one penny, if that’s what she’s after.”

  “No need to go to court,” Cimarron said softly. “I’m sure Turquoise would not accept his money.”

  “Then why are you here?” Harriet paced up and down, her black silk dress rustling like dead leaves from a dying tree.

  Cimarron took a deep breath. “I have come to tell you what I told Edwin yesterday afternoon in his office. It is a secret that the old don told me on his deathbed and I have kept it all these years.”

  “Humph!” the woman huffed. “I’m not inclined to keep a secret of the hated Durango clan.”

  “On the contrary, it is a secret of the Foresters—no, a secret of Edwin’s that you must keep to protect his memory and your family from scandal.”

  Harriet Forester paused and stared at Cimarron. “What is this great secret?”

  “Did you ever meet my ward?”

  “Of course,” Harriet snapped. “Edwin brought her to the house. Although I had a feeling I knew her and it made me uneasy somehow, Edwin was crazy for her. He was determined to marry her, come hell or high water.”

  “I told him yesterday why he could not marry Turquoise, even if he won the duel.”

  Harriet snorted. “Evidently you do not know the financial and political power of the Forester family. If my son was determined to have her, I would have moved heaven and earth to make it happen and the Durangos would not have been able to stop the marriage.”

  Cimarron sighed. This was going to be so difficult. “Harriet, do you remember a very pretty Mexican maid named Rosa you hired here more than twenty years ago?”

  “Of course not. What has that got to do with anything?” Harriet paced up and down, her mourning dress rustling. “We’ve had dozens of pretty Mexican girls work in this house. I can’t remember one Rosa from a Maria or a Carmelita. They’re just hired help, after all.”

  “Edwin obviously took a real liking to this particular girl,” Cimarron said.

  “Edwin was always taking a liking to this maid or that,” his mother said with a snort. “I was always having to fire them or ship them back to Mexico because Edwin helped himself to their charms like so much free candy. A lot of rich, spoiled young men do that.”

  “You threw this one out in the winter cold without a penny,” Cimarron said. “My mother-in-law, Velvet Eyes, discovered Rosa starving on the streets and took her home to the Triple D as her personal maid.”

  “I don’t see what all this talk of a Mexican slut has anything to do with—”

  “Mrs. Forester, did you take a really close look at my ward?”

  “Of course she was pretty, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Harriet snapped. “I’ll admit I’ve never seen Edwin so crazy about a girl before.”

  “Because Edwin loved himself so much and when he looked at her, it was like looking in a mirror,” Cimarron said.

  “What?” Harriet whirled.

  “Did you not notice the girl has pale turquoise eyes? Did you not see the shape of her face, the way she moves? So like you?”

  Harriet went suddenly pale. “What—what are you trying to tell me?”

  “The same thing I told Edwin yesterday afternoon,” Cimarron said softly. “No matter what, he couldn’t marry Turquoise because she was his own daughter by Rosa.”

  Harriet collapsed on a chair, shaken. “My God! How dare you? You lie!”

  “Do I?” Cimarron got up, walked over to the sideboard, poured a small sherry, brought it back, and placed it in Harriet’s shaking hand. “You must have sensed there was something different, eerily familiar about her. Certainly Edwin did. Only neither of you realized that you were seeing a Forester.”

  Harriet sipped her drink and Cimarron saw the woman’s hand shake.

  For a long moment, there was no sound except the haunting laughter of the crazy daughter and the echo of fireworks from outside.

  Finally Harriet said, “And what has all this to do with the duel?”

  Cimarron sighed. “I have to tell you that I think when Edwin realized I was telling the truth, that the woman he adored he could not marry, he committed suicide.”

  “No, he wouldn’t.” She shook her gray head.

  “He was rich and spoiled and had always had everything in the world his own way. The Forester money and power bought everything, but this was the one thing he wanted most and could not have. I think he deliberately short-loaded that pistol, made sure he got it himself, and walked out on that duel ground to be killed.”

  Harriet’s face had gone pasty white and she said nothing for a long moment. “Then in a way, he’s a hero, not a villain, as the newspaper painted him.”

  “I suppose. But of course, you must never tell this. Neither Turquoise nor her beloved, Rio, know this and it would only bring more scandal to your family.”

  Outside in the distance, fireworks exploded and the silence in the library was deafening.

  “I must go now.” Cimarron stood up.

  “Wait.” Harriet held up a hand. “Are you telling me I have a granddaughter, the only grandchild I may ever have, and I must never acknowledge or have a relationship with her?”

  Cimarron nodded. “It’s part of the price you pay for Edwin’s sin. Now I presume you will not probe into this duel any deeper?”

  Harriet nodded and tears sprang to her turquoise eyes and ran down her cheeks. “My granddaughter will now marry the man who killed Edwin?”

  “As Edwin knew she would. I think he was all right with that, you see.”

  “Yes.” She looked suddenly very forlorn and old sitting in her chair, and the laughter from the crazy daughter drifted through the house again.

  “I really must go.” Cimarron walked to the door.

  “Wait.” Harriet came to her feet and held up a restraining hand. “If Edwin wanted her to have all his property, I would—”

  “I told you she wouldn’t accept it, and anyway, it would raise questions.”

  Harriet set her sherry on the desk. “But I can’t bear to think of a Forester being poor. I—I think I should send a gift to her. Edwin would have wanted it.”

  “You know that would make her wonder, and the secret cannot come out,” Cimarron protested.

  “I can’t even attend her wedding, can I?” Mrs. Forester wiped her eyes and looked humbled, a broken woman.

  Cimarron sh
ook her head. “I’m sorry. It would cause talk.”

  “My only grandchild,” Harriet murmured, “marrying a poor man and living in poverty. All the dead Foresters would roll over in their graves. I’m sure this is not what Edwin wanted for his child.”

  “Well, we’re giving the couple a herd of fine-blooded cattle and horses,” Cimarron said, “so in a few years, if they can acquire some land—”

  “He has no land?”

  “Only fifty acres,” Cimarron admitted. “We wanted to give him some of ours out near our place, but they want to stay in Austin.”

  Harriet paused, then smiled. “I have plenty of land. In fact, we own five thousand acres on the south side of the city through one of our New York companies.”

  Cimarron shook her head. “I told you, it would cause talk if you gave her anything—”

  “But if she thought it came from her guardian and I transferred the land to the Durangos …”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Cimarron paused with her hand on the doorknob.

  Harriet nodded. “I think it is what her father would have wanted me to do. Yes, Edwin would be pleased.” Tears came to her eyes again, those pale turquoise eyes that had been the telltale mark of all the Foresters for generations. “My most trusted lawyer will contact you.”

  “All right. Then we can make this work without Turquoise ever finding out the truth.”

  “Oh, there’s a note that Edwin left. His lawyer gave me a copy and is waiting for my approval to release it to the courts. I told him I didn’t understand it and to destroy it,” Harriet said and walked to the desk.

  “There’s really no need—” Cimarron began.

  “Yes, there’s a note Edwin added with the will. It should make my granddaughter very happy.” She went over to the big desk and pulled out the folded paper, handing it to Cimar-ron. “I will tell my lawyer to release it to the proper authorities and the newspapers tomorrow after I bury my son.”

  Cimarron took the note, read it, and smiled. “Yes, this will make her and Rio very happy.”

  “I’m glad.” Harriet smiled through her tears. “There has been so little happiness in this house. The Foresters were always about power and money and ruthless ambition. All it has done is make us the most hated family in Texas.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” Cimarron patted her shoulder gently.

  “Oh, it’s true.” Harriet walked to open the library door and looked at the crowd filing past the coffin in the parlor. “All those people in there to pay their respects? They’re not here because they liked Edwin. They are here because they fear not to come and some of them probably just want to make sure he is really dead. The Foresters have no real friends.”

  “I am so sorry,” Cimarron said as she saw the tears run down the once-beautiful face.

  “Not as sorry as I am,” Harriet whispered. “I wish I could have you as a friend, but I know that would cause talk. We won’t meet again, will we?”

  “Not in this life.” Cimarron shook her head.

  “Then tell my granddaughter for me … No, you can’t do that, can you?”

  Cimarron shook her head. “I am so sorry; so sorry you had to find all this out this way.”

  She noticed then that the coffin was draped with pink roses and turned a curious look to Harriet.

  Harriet shrugged. “His employee said Edwin requested them, but why, I’ll never know.”

  “I don’t suppose it matters now,” Cimarron whispered. The scent of cloying, decaying flowers again mingled with the scent of dust and mold and furniture polish as she pulled her scarf up around her face, went out the door, down the hall, keeping her face turned away from those in the parlor. No one must ever know she had been here, except Trace. She would have to tell her husband everything.

  It was all going to work out. She slipped outside, got in the carriage, and said to the driver, “Back to the hotel, please.”

  She went up to her room and wiped her eyes and washed her face. She was just dressing for dinner when Trace came in.

  “Darlin’, you missed a great parade.”

  “Oh, did I? Did the children enjoy themselves?”

  “Yes. Turquoise and Rio are down in the dinin’ room now havin’ lunch with them. Oh, I think that pair are wan-tin’ to get married later this month, as soon as he finds out if he’s goin’ to have to stand trial or not.”

  “Then we’ll plan a wedding.” She came into his arms and kissed him. “I’ve heard a rumor that something is about to break in that case.”

  “Oh?”

  “Let’s see what happens tomorrow.” She smiled and kissed him again, remembering the note Edwin had added in with the will:

  Rio Kelly is not guilty of murder. I myself hired some men to burn his barn and kill him, but he managed to shoot one of the attackers. It was self-defense. The men I forced to do this evil deed owed me money or I blackmailed them and I forced them to take part. I also had Rio attacked and beat up. Those thugs hang out at the Boxing Ring Saloon. Hamilton, the owner, was one of them. He hired the other two. I write this of my own free will and under no duress. Signed Edwin S. Forester, this day of July 3, 1876.

  “I’ve got something I must tell you and then we will never mention it again.” Cimarron held Trace very close and kissed him. She only hoped Turquoise was as happy today as she was.

  Epilogue

  Mid-July 1876

  Turquoise held onto Rio’s hand tightly as they ran down the aisle and out onto the church steps, where their friends showered them with rice as the church bells rang joyously. “Oh, Rio, I’m so happy to finally be your bride!”

  “Not as happy as I am, my beloved, to finally be your husband.” He paused then and kissed her deeply as the crowds of well-wishers gathered around them, shouting congratulations. “I’ve sent my mother news of our wedding. I’m sure she will be so happy and pray for us.”

  “I’m sorry she could not attend,” Turquoise whispered.

  “My word!” Fern, her maid of honor, ran up to her. “I just hope my wedding next month is as lovely as this one!”

  Turquoise hugged her. “It will be.”

  Cimarron and Trace walked up, all smiles.

  “Well,” said Cimarron, hanging onto her children, “Raven and Ace did pretty well as flower girl and ring bearer.”

  “They did a great job!” Turquoise squatted to hug the two dressed-up children.

  “Is there cake yet?” Ace asked.

  “No, silly.” Raven whacked her brother. “That’s at the big party. Don’t boys know anything?”

  Cimarron laughed. “Ladies don’t hit their brothers. It was a great wedding, and now we’ll have the biggest reception Austin ever saw, with everyone in town invited.”

  “It should be big.” Trace laughed. “I’ve hired a band for the town plaza and there’s enough food and beer for thousands.”

  He shook hands with the smiling Rio. “You’re getting a beautiful girl. You two don’t be strangers, si?”

  Rio clapped him on the back. “We’ll come out and visit your ranch often, I promise.”

  The children were already running around on the church lawn as Cimarron brushed back Turquoise’s long white lace veil and hugged her. “Oh, by the way, we have a little extra gift for you.”

  “Another?” Turquoise’s eyes widened. “You’ve given us so much already. Why, Night Spirit alone is worth a fortune.”

  “I think you’ll like this.” Cimarron handed her the envelope.

  “What is this?” Turquoise opened the papers and read them, her eyes growing wide. “Oh, this is too much.”

  Trace shrugged. “We thought you could use it.”

  Turquoise turned and looked up at her love. “Rio, darling, the Durangos have just given us that five thousand acres next to your little ranch.”

  “What?” Rio took the papers from her hand in disbelief. “Why, we can’t accept such a generous gift.”

  “But of course you can.” Cimarron smiled.
“It’s not as if we don’t already own half of Texas. We didn’t need this little bit.”

  Turquoise hugged her. “All this time, I had no idea you had a New York company.”

  Cimarron shrugged and Turquoise saw her guardians exchange glances. “There’s lots of things you don’t know, my dear, but this is just an extra surprise for your wedding.”

  Turquoise nodded blissfully, already lost again in the dark eyes of her new husband. Then she noticed an ornate carriage stopped across the street from the church. In the carriage was an elegant, gray-haired woman all dressed in black. The woman looked familiar somehow. “Who is that?”

  Cimarron turned and looked as the carriage pulled away and went slowly down the street. After a long moment, she said, “Hmm. Maybe just some old lady who was reliving memories of her own wedding or wishing she had a daughter or granddaughter to give a big wedding for.”

  “Poor thing,” Turquoise murmured.

  “Yes, poor thing,” Cimarron echoed, “poor, poor thing.”

  Fern diverted their attention. “My word, Turquoise, you forgot to throw the bouquet.”

  Turquoise looked down at her armful of scarlet oleander blossoms. “I know some may think it was an odd choice for a bridal bouquet, but it has special significance for us.” She winked at her bridegroom and he winked back.

  “It’s beautiful,” Cimarron said.

  “I’ll throw it at the big reception tonight,” Turquoise promised, “and Fern, you must be sure and catch it.”

  “Maybe you can throw it to one of those pitiful debutantes who’ll show up uninvited and alone.” Fern laughed. “I don’t need it. I’ve already got my man, remember?” She put her arm through the bashful, lanky Luke’s.

  “We both do!” Turquoise reached up to kiss Rio again and he held onto her like he would never let her go.

  “My darling Senora Kelly,” he whispered, “I can hardly wait for the dancing and party to be over so I can hold you in my arms all night and kiss you again and again.”

  “Me too!” she agreed. “And for many more years to come, my vaquero!”

  “See everyone at the reception!” she called. Then she gathered up her yards of white lace skirt and they both ran for their fine open carriage under a shower of rice. Tip was sitting in back, all washed and groomed with ribbons around his neck. The little dog barked and barked, wagging his stubby tail. Silver Sippers and Peso were tied to the back of the carriage, flowers and ribbons woven into their manes and tails. They were placidly munching the fresh flowers strung all over the back of the vehicle, not caring they were destroying the decorations.