“Sí, so I tell my grandfather, but he says I am still young enough to beat for insolence.”

“Fidelito! Fidelito! Come and get our ball down from the roof of the smokehouse. Pedro has put it up there again when I told him not to throw it so high!”

Young Matthew’s impatient demands snared Fidelito’s attention, and he turned to tell him to wait just a moment while he spoke with an old friend. As he turned back to Steve, he wore a puzzled frown, and then dawning recognition lit his eyes as he looked again at the child.

“It’s time I go,” Steve said quietly, and in Spanish, “I know you can keep a secret well, and that you’ll keep this one, too.”

Fidelito nodded, eyes huge in a face that mirrored his sudden understanding. “Sí, I would never betray you.”

“Tell your grandfather hello for me.”

He didn’t look back this time either, but rode north toward the Prendergast spread. It occurred to him that one day Ginny would learn about the child he’d had with Elizabeth. After all, if Jim Bishop knew—and damn him, he’d found out about it somehow, or he wouldn’t have made that cryptic comment about seeing an old friend or two—it was bound to come out sooner or later. It wasn’t something he could tell Ginny right now, when they were still uncertain of each other, still had doubts. No, he’d wait. The right time to tell her would come around.

16

Sunlight seeped through windows left open to allow in a warm breeze, slanting across ocher walls, spilling bright gold over the mahogany furniture and pretty carpets. At last they were in a decent hotel, new and freshly painted, with the smell still lingering in the air. Ginny and Paco had crossed the border from Presidio, Texas, to the tiny town of Ojinaga in the state of Chihuahua late the night before, and she had gone straight to bed.

But it had been a restless sleep, peopled with dreams of places and faces from her past, and she had tossed and turned the entire night. Maybe she was too tired to sleep, or too frustrated.

I hate waiting! Every day she expected Steve to return, looked for him on the horizon as they rode, expected to see him around each bend in the road and behind every stand of trees. At first, she had lingered in Laredo after Steve left, uncertain what she wanted to do despite Paco’s obvious impatience. Finally she had decided she would travel on to the new rancho after all, too restless to remain in Laredo, and unwilling to go to Zacatecas without Steve.

Damn Steve. Damn Bishop, and damn the rebellion that made it unsafe to travel right now! If it wasn’t so risky, she would go on by herself. And why not? She’d done more dangerous things before, had survived it all.