Peter smiled sadly. “I don’t blame you one bit.” He unwrapped the reins and whipped the horse into motion. He turned the buggy around and headed back over the hill to the three serene-looking log homes below, set against the magnificent backdrop of the Rocky Mountain foothills.
A beautiful woman with blond hair came out onto the veranda, which was bordered with three rows of rose bushes in full bloom. Randy loved roses. That much Peter knew. He also knew she kept her own secret brew of oil from rose petals and used it like a perfume. He’d smelled it on her before, even just standing beside her.
“My God, she’s so thin!” he remarked.
“Yeah. I should have warned you. She’s actually gained some weight. After last winter, she stopped eating. Pa was scared she’d die from malnutrition. He finally got her eating again, and she’s doing pretty good in that department. But don’t say anything about her weight. She might think she has to explain, and she won’t want to.”
“I understand.” Peter pulled up in front of the house, and Randy covered her mouth with her hands.
“Peter! Oh, my goodness, you couldn’t have picked a better time to visit!” Randy opened her arms as Peter stepped out of the buggy and walked up the steps to greet her. “I just took some of my bread out of the oven,” Randy told him as they embraced. “I know how much you love it. I’m so glad to see you. Come in! Come in!”
Peter kissed her cheek. “This place is a wonderful relief from big-city life,” he told her, “and nothing smells better than that bread you bake.”
They walked inside.
“Where is Treena?” Lloyd heard his mother ask.
“She’s in France, visiting family,” Peter answered. “She would have loved to come back out here and probably will again next summer. And I’m sorry to hear Jake isn’t here.”
“I’ll bet you are,” Lloyd said under his breath. He turned away. “Shit.” He felt like a damn jealous kid.
Forty-five
Sidney Wayland himself greeted Jake and Cole in the outer courtyard of the lovely hacienda. The appearance of the place was deceitful, looking more like the home of a wealthy don. They followed Sidney to the courtyard gardens, where they sat in the shade of beautiful, flowered greenery, including red and yellow roses. The air was filled with their aroma. Smelling the roses made Jake’s heart ache for Randy. If not for what this place really was, Randy would love the amazing garden.
“Go and get the girls,” Sidney ordered a maid. “We have a very special guest. This is the famous gunman from America, Jake Harkner.” He turned to Jake. “Even here in Mexico we know of you,” he told Jake with a wide grin. “And we greet all our special guests with wine and dancing. It gets them excited for one of our lovely women, and I am sure the handsome Jake Harkner, who was raised by whores, appreciates beautiful women.”
“Sidney, I’ve been with the same woman for a lot of years, but she’s in Colorado and I’m down here, and what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’m ready for something different…and younger.”
Sidney laughed heartily and signaled a small band to come out of an alcove and entertain his guests. The four men played a rapid-beat Mexican tune using maracas, a guiro, guitar, and violin. In the next moment, four beautiful young women emerged from a side door into the courtyard, smiling and swirling to the music. They swayed and turned in beautiful, brightly colored skirts and low-cut tops. They grabbed the ruffled hems of their skirts and lifted them in circular, shifting motions, just enough to give the men a peek at the fact that they wore nothing underneath.
One woman in particular moved in rhythmic thrusts toward Jake to indicate she could most certainly please him in bed. Her flat belly rolled in tempting lunges, her hip bones showing above the very low waistline of her skirt, just above the hairs of her privates. Her blouse threatened to burst open from her generous bosom as she shook her breasts temptingly close and cast sexy, suggestive smiles through full lips. Her dark eyes promised a very satisfying night if Jake chose her.
None of it affected Jake. His leftover rage from yesterday kept away all thoughts besides his purpose. He gave the woman a once-over look that told her he desired her, but the only desire he had was for Sidney Wayland’s death.
The four women finished the dance with a quick lift of their skirts as they turned and bent over to reveal four naked and very firm young bottoms. Jake couldn’t help wondering if more than one of them had been an innocent virgin not so long ago. How many were here of their own free will, and who had been forced into this by Wayland, a small-built man with a slightly upturned nose. His lips were so thin it was almost as though he had no lips at all, and his pale-blue eyes were oddly lifeless—a man with no feelings, Jake guessed, other than for sex and money. Jake could read him like a book. What Wayland was doing made him feel important…a small man aching to be famous and feared in his own way.