Ginny allowed Carmen to towel dry her hair, then brush it until it glowed with burnished light in the soft gloom of the wall lamps. Seated at the small marble-and-ivory inlaid dressing table, Ginny sipped from the cup of cocoa the maid had brewed for her, finally relaxing under Carmen’s anxious ministrations.

“You must sleep well tonight, señora, for if you do not, you may become ill again. I will keep watch over you, and that so fierce hombre at the door, he will guard your rest. I have changed the sheets on your bed. No one will disturb you.”

“I will not sleep in that bed,” she said abruptly. The thought of it made her ill, reminded her too vividly of Rafael Luna. She met Carmen’s startled gaze in the mirror. “I would like to sleep on the settee in here. It’s quite comfortable.”

“Sí,” Carmen murmured, but it was plain that she was bewildered. Still, she dutifully tucked sheets that smelled of lavender atop the cushions of the settee, along with a plump pillow and a light coverlet.

With the drapes drawn and windows closed against the muted sound of revelry in the streets, Ginny stretched out on the comfortable cushions.

It was, she thought as a luxurious languor began to seep through her body, a relief to feel safe again, if only for a single night.

33

It was nearly dawn. Pale light streaked the eastern sky, tingeing mountain peaks a hazy gold. Steve sat in a cantina near the plaza. He’d been there most of the night, nursing a drink.

Paco found him still sober, his mood foul.

“You are about to be even more unhappy, amigo, when I tell you what has happened to your wife.” Paco didn’t bother to sit down, but stood watching Steve closely. It was no surprise, the way things stood between Steve and Ginny, but he had learned to be wary and not to get involved. It was much safer that way, for him, at least. ¡Dios! but matters got complicated quickly, and it always seemed that he was the one to have to tell Steve…

“What has she done now?” Steve drawled, sitting back in his chair to look up at Paco with a cold gaze. “Danced with veils for Díaz? It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“It seems that General Luna has taken her. Tige found Butch Casey nearly dead, his throat slit, though he is still alive. Missed the jugular, but just barely. Ginny is gone.”

“Christ!” The chair was pushed back so quickly it fell to the hard-packed dirt floor with a crash as Steve stood up and reached for his rifle. “Which way did he take her?”

“No one is certain, but it looks like they headed north toward Chihuahua. If what you told me is true about Luna and Senator Brandon, you can guess where they’re going and why.”

“Hell, yes. The Galena.”