Brandon made an impatient sound. “You don’t still think I had something to do with that? You’re wrong. I had no idea where you were or what happened to you. Virginia is in Mexico City, but has not returned my wire or letters. No one seemed to know what happened to you. Even your partner, that Paco Davis, has just dropped out of sight. Hell, you have a habit of doing that yourself.”
“I have a bad habit of running into folks who want me to drop out of sight. Sometimes permanently.” He paused, then frowned. “What is Ginny doing in Mexico City? She should have gone back to my grandfather’s.”
“Surely you’ve realized by now that my daughter does as she pleases, and that we are usually not advised of her reasons for it. No doubt she changed her mind on a whim, or whatever motive she may have. Probably something to do with that damn Luna.”
“Luna?” Steve’s head snapped up and his eyes narrowed, nearly missing the senator’s quick frown and tightened lips.
“Yes. A General Rafael Luna, emissary from Spain or some such nonsense. He sent me a damned impertinent telegram telling me that I should focus on my business interests and leave my daughter’s welfare to those who could assist her. A damned insolent man.”
“Yes.” Steve rose from the chair and let the front two legs slam back to the plank floor with a loud smack. “I’ve had the dubious pleasure of meeting Señor Luna.”
“I’m not surprised. Is there anyone in Mexico you do not know?”
“Actually, I met him in Italy a few years ago. He was quite taken by…an opera singer.”
“Ah.” Brandon’s gaze was assessing. “Signorina di Paoli is a lovely, fiery young woman, if a bit…headstrong at times. Tell me, does she still provoke gunfights?”
“If she can. I’ll need some weapons, food, a horse.”
“Of course. I’m sure Delgado will provide them, whether he approves or not.” Brandon drummed his fingers on the wood surface of the desk, a soft sound. “You’re going to Mexico City, I presume.”
“Where is she staying?”
“Calle Manzanares. Give her my regards.”
Steve didn’t answer. He was remembering Rafael Luna and their last meeting, and thought of Ginny with the man.
Christ! It had been Luna in Ojinaga dancing with Ginny that night. He should have remembered him. But he had been too intent on his passionate, tempting little wife to pay more than perfunctory attention to her dancing partner. Now Luna had Ginny. And if he did to her what he had tried to do to Francesca, this time he would kill him. He should have done it last time. Now it might be too late.
29
Winter had come to Mexico City, with warm days and cool nights. President Díaz entered the city in triumph on November 21, and the citizens celebrated. Ginny was invited to palace balls, to the elegant, grand affairs honoring the new president, but found to her dismay that General Luna was her assigned escort.
Ginny struggled in a familiar nightmare, caught between pain and anger, old memories dredging up doubts. Oh God, not again! Should she even look for Steve? He’d disappeared so many times before, and yet she had the persistent feeling that this time, it wasn’t by choice. If only she could talk to Paco, or even Bishop, but of course, she had no idea where they were, either.
And now to find out that Steve had another child…Why had he not told her?
She had vacillated between despair and rage since Luna had told her of it. If only she could believe it wasn’t true. But somehow, she knew it was.
Rafael Luna was too exultant, his satisfaction far too obvious for her to cling to the fiction that he was lying.
“Even your husband’s friend, Jim Bishop, knows of the child, Doña Genia. There are…reports on these things, and I have excellent resources to discover what I wish to know about a man I consider dangerous.” His lips pursed. “It is too bad he did not tell you about it, but I could help to soften the blow, should you need comfort.”
“You made a serious error if you thought my discovery of this child would entice me to your bed,” she told Luna, her tone icy. “Now I have little reason to want to find my husband.”
It wasn’t true, of course, and Luna must have sensed it for he only laughed. “Ah, but you will change your mind soon enough, Doña Genia, for being a woman, you will want to see his face when you tell him that you know, eh? Do not bother to deny it. I know the female mind well enough to suspect your purpose for being so angry and full of denials. Shall I tell you her name, perhaps, or do you wish to wait and ask your husband?”
Would putting a name to the betrayal really make it better? Or would it only engender more questions, more images of her with Steve? When Ginny hesitated, Luna smiled.
“Elizabeth Burneson. Her name was Cady when he knew her in New Mexico Territory. Now she is married, to a dull man who is most besotted with her, I am told, but then, he must be besotted to accept another man’s child as his own.”
“Perhaps he is only noble, Señor Luna, something you would not understand.”
“Would I not? Ah, perhaps you are right. I am so often puzzled by such men. Or the women who live with them until the man they really want comes back—which is what happens quite frequently, I have observed.
