Chapter 10

WHEN JOCK GOT HOME, HE WAS SO WONDERFULLY glad to be with Zoe again that she would not have dampened his ardor if she had wanted to. And she knew that there was no use in telling him she loved his father instead of him. There would never be any use in it. Her one night with Link was a closed door that would never open again. Link had said so. What Link said, he meant-and he stuck to it.

When she was six months along, Zoe relayed the doctor's warning to Jock; he advised them to stop sexual intercourse until the baby was born. Jock did a lot of pouting about it, almost every night, but he always talked himself into cheerful acceptance, especially when Zoe promised him-as she always did-that as soon as she was well from the baby's birth, he could spend the rest of. his life in her crotch. She already had the doctor's best pills to use as preventatives, ready to use as soon as they could begin having intercourse again' until they decided to have more babies. If they ever did, she would fake the pills and stay safe. Jock would be able to use her all he wanted to, as much and as often as his young strength demanded.

Of course she couldn't tell him how relieved she was to have him leave her alone. It had been meaningless to open up to Jock after her night with Link. Poor, boastful Jock was so pleased with his maleness, so proud of his big prick, so delighted that he could stir up a hard at sight of her breasts. But, to her, he was a child learning to read, when she craved a scholar.

She had been unable to achieve a climax with him-as completely unable as she had been before his trip. She had told herself that perhaps, now since she had known a climax with Link, she could have one after another of them with Jock. If she could, she knew it would help to ease the aching in her body when she gave it to Jock, the pull of sorrow in her heart every moment of every day ... But she had not been able to work up enough to go off, no matter how hard she tried-and she had given it up.

She and Jock took long drives in the red convertible, with him showing her the vast Panhandle country, its ranches and oil fields, its wheat and cattle, its caves and canyons. And they walked together every evening. She knew she needed the exercise, and Jock went with her. Hand in hand, they trekked through the valley and on into the canyons, savoring the beauty of the rocks and the streams and the wild things that scurried from their approach. Deep in the breaks, there were deer and elk and wild turkeys and countless small animals-plus the coyotes that howled in the distance. Zoe loved the big outdoors. There was a cleanness, a freshness to these plains and woods that she had never known before, not even in Missouri.

When Jock had to leave on another sales trip, in Zoe's seventh month, Link sent word that she could go along if her doctor okayed it. But Doctor Gorham said no. She was doing fine, but he didn't want her taking long trips this late in her pregnancy. Jock-was going to Minneapolis and Chicago, perhaps beyond them, and that was too far, the doctor insisted.

So she stayed alone when Jock left. She-wondered whether Link would give in to his feelings, and hers, and come to her. In spite of her telling herself that she must not love him, she could not make herself forget him. She couldn't help longing for him with every part of her heart, every movement of her love-starved body. Remembering how it had felt to draw him into her crotch, to hold him there until they had made their climax together; it warmed her through, dampening her body, soaking her panties. She knew that if he came to her, she would disregard the doctor's instructions. She would take a chance on intercourse, just once; she would not be able to refuse it, not to Link. She wanted him terribly, entirely, all the time.

But Link didn't come near her. He had spoken to her only a few times since their night of love. Each time had been when Jock was with them, when they had eaten at the big house with him, or he had shared their dinner at their home. And. no word of his had held any feeling other than fatherly interest in her and in his grandchild in her womb ... Apparently he intended that attitude to continue. He did not knock on her door these nights.

Now that her time for delivery was getting close, she was unable to sleep, more nights than not. Sometimes she lay awake all night, feeling the child within her kick and turn, feeling her body an almost unbearable burden, wishing the day would hasten when her-womb-would split open and she would bring forth the child that so weighed her down.

She took to leaving the house in the dead of night, and walking in the moonlight; walking and walking until she was exhausted, far into the canyons and back, so far that she slept from sheer fatigue when she got home.

One night she walked a lot farther than usual. And, before she started the long trek back, she sat down on an old tree stump to rest. The child within her was especially restless, and she felt much more tired than usual. She knew she should not have come this far.

All at once, in the deathly stillness of the night, she heard voices. She recognized them at once. There were three of them-Mendez and the two homos she had seen in the chicken house when she first came to the farm. She remembered hearing a plane land, a couple of hours ago, and she knew that that meant Mendez had come back from his most recent trip to Mexico with a load of birds. And now she saw that her vantage point was within spotting distance of the private airport that was two hills past all the houses. She got up and moved toward the voices, cautiously, fascinated by the things the men were saying.

Mendez was telling the other two, "Theese plane, she ees clean enough now. The cigar butts and ashes, she is all wiped out. No damn fool but us know that I have companee on treep home."

One of the men said, "Don't you think you oughta give us a bigger cut, Mendez? We could turn you both over to the law, you know."

The foreman chuckled softly, smugly. "Sure. And I tell Senor Leenk that you screw each other on hees time. You lose good job, and good cut I geeve you now. You like that?"

The second worker said quickly, "He was only kiddin', Mendez. You treat us fine. We don't want tc quit you."

"So okay. Ees good."

The voices stopped, and Zoe thought all three men had left together, heading for the houses that huddled far away in the moonlight. She heard feet go crushing through the underbrush in that direction.

When she could no longer hear them, she began her slow walk home. She was so full of fury that she was shaking all over. That damned Mendez, cheating Link and Jock, making himself a fortune, and breaking the law-all at once. She would tell Link the whole story tomorrow. It would be the end of Mendez' little play party.

She had just started across the last clearing toward her house when she heard steps behind her, coming from the direction of the plane; crunching closer, gaining faster and faster, threatening to overtake her if she didn't run for her life!

But she couldn't run. She was too clumsy, too heavily burdened by her unborn child. She knew she would stumble if she tried to run, perhaps trip over something and fall headlong, injuring her baby, maybe risking its life ...

She dropped into a heap on the ground, a swollen bundle in the moonlight. Let her pursuer catch her if he would. Let him curse her, sneer at her, shout at her. Let him do anything-except harm her child. If she could sit here in a huddle and protect the baby, it wouldn't matter what happened to her own life.

In the next breath she felt calloused hands on her flesh, jerking her to her feet. She smelled expensive whiskey mingled with two kinds of loud perfume. And she heard Mendez' raging demand, "Senora, you peeg-you spy on plane! You spy on-me! How dare you spy, you peeg?"

She pulled free of his grasp. "Don't you call me a pig, you-you smuggler!"

His eyes shot fire in the moonlight "You heard theese talk about the smuggling, Senora Zoe?"

"Doggone right I heard it, and Link will hear about it in the morning. I'll tell him everything I heard and saw. I'll-"

"Hold the horse, senora. I theenk you weel tell Senor Leenk notheeng. Een first place, he know it weethout you tell him. He ees partner weeth me een the smuggling. And een second place, eef he find out you know, he weel keel you, yes?"

"Why, he would not! I'm his daughter-in-law, and he'd never harm me!"

Yet, even while she was screaming words at Mendez, she was recalling Link's controlled, almost deadly vow, "Nothing must disrupt the harmoney we have here." Was Mendez right about how far Link would go to protect his fat profit in crime? Would he do away with her, and with his own grandchild, If he thought they threatened his life outside the law?

Mendez taunted her, "Go on and tell Senor Leenk, Senora Zoe. Tell heem-and see how long you are here after you tell!"

She didn't answer. She turned from the man's hateful face and started moving as fast as she could toward her house. If he ran after her, knocked her down, even killed her-well, that was the risk she would have to take. She couldn't stay here, listening to his insults and his continued gloating over the fact that Link was his partner in crime.

And somehow she didn't believe that Mendez would harm her. She was sure that he would leave her destruction to Link, if it came to that. And of course it wouldn't. She would never speak of this night to Link. She would tell Jock; she must tell him. They would have to unite in their course of action, decide what they would do after their baby was born, now that she knew the full evil of this ranch. Maybe they could find a new home somewhere far away. Jock was a good boy, and he would want to leave his father's criminal set-up when he learned of it. Surely he would ...

The first night he was home, she told him. He sat very still, his face tight, his eyes deeply hurt. She said, "I didn't want to tell you, But I ... Well, I had to, didn't IT

"Sure you did, baby. Sure you did." He sighed heavily. "God, to think that Dad and that lousy Mendez have been smuggling all this time I Every time they've taken birds to Mexico, they've brought back wetbacks. Do you suppose they-" He didn't finish his sentence; he didn't seem able to. He didn't cry before Zoe; but she had the feeling that if ha left to walk in the night alone, he would shed his full share of tears.

He left the house in a few minutes. She heard the car start, purr, and drive away. Where was he going? Would he confront Mendez and lay him out? Would he do the same to Link? And when he came home, would he gather Zoe and their belongings and take off, never to return to this beautiful-but-evil place?

But Zoe never knew where Jock went that night, nor what speeches he made to whom. She could only guess ...

She was getting breakfast the next morning, sure that he would be coming home to eat before he went to work. Suddenly there was a banging on her door, a wild pounding that went past knocking, past reason, past sanity, She saw a tall, straight figure on the porch, and she knew it was Link. What was he doing here, and why wasn't Jock with him? Had they quarreled? And had Link--?

She flung the door open and faced Link's bloodshot eyes, his drawn cheeks, his bands that clenched and unclenched.

She cried, "Link, what is it? What's happened?"

His voice was hoarse. "It's Jock! Oh, God in heaven, Zoe, I wish I didn't have to tell you ... He drove his convertible off the cliff above the airport valley. The car's smashed, down there, and he's ... Oh, Jesus, he's dead!"

She dropped to the floor, feeling faint, wishing she could black out and never come to again. But Link lifted her in his arms, carried her to the divan, and laid her gently there. Then he sat down across the room from her, not touching her any more.

Her mind was whirling, beating her to death for what she had told Jock last night. Maybe he had not been able to accept the truth, to endure it and live with it. Maybe he had ... But, no, Jock wasn't the suicide type. She wouldn't believe that he killed himself.

Then who ... Why, Mendez, of course! If Jock went to Mendez last night and shouted that he would turn the foreman over to the law, even though it meant turning Link in too ... If he did that, then Mendez wouldn't have waited for Link to deal with the situation. He would have dealt with it himself. He would have killed Jock without a qualm.

Zoe began to cry then, sobbing for the love that Jock had had for her, for the kindnesses he had shown her, for the genuine friendship she had felt for him. And she sensed a great bitterness in her sorrow-resentment against the crime that was rampant in these infested acres, against the manor perhaps the two men, since it was Link's crime too-who had caused Jock's death ...

Unable to hold back her fury, she sobbed, "He didn't have an accident, Link-you know he didn't I He was too good a driver. He was murdered! And then he was pushed over that cliff!"

Link leaped across the room and stood over her. "What are you saying, Zoe?"

"You know what I'm saying-or you ought to. Jock and Mendez hated each other!"

"Yes, I know. Jock was always wanting me to fire Mendez. But surely there was nothing between them that could cause a life-or-death struggle. Surely-"

"Surely there was. I found out what the men were doing, Mendez and those two others. I told Jock. And then he left the house. If he accused Mendez-"

Link's face changed color twice-to grayish white and then back to deep red.

She wouldn't accuse him with Mendez, but she didn't care if he knew that she knew the truth. Since Jock was dead and Link was a criminal, what did anything matter?

But Link said quickly, "Damn it all to hell, Zoe-Jock didn't give a goddamn what Mendez did. He knew all about the activities here on the farm."

"I suppose you're going to tell me that-that Jock helped them!"

"Well, I guess he did, in his way. At least he didn't try to stop them." He sighed. Then his voice changed, taking on a note of sad resignation. "I called town for the mortuary ambulance. I don't think you ought to go with them, but you may if you want to."

She shook her head. "Not now. I couldn't stand seeing Jock the ... the way he must look now." She wanted to add, I can't even stand thinking about his death yet, not after what you just told me. I wouldn't have believed that my husband and my father-in-law were partners in a smuggling racket-if you hadn't told me so yourself ... Well, now Jock is dead for his crimes. And you can go straight to hell, Link Tawnley. I loved you once-and I could love you still, if you were honest and decent. But you're crooked and rotten. Maybe you were in cahoots with Mendez in the killing of Jock, the murder of your own son ... Oh, God, Link could you do that? Could you?

CHAPTER ll

LINK TURNED AND LEFT HER ALONE, THE next moment. And she told herself she wouldn't care if she never saw him again.

She was sure he would never investigate Jock's death. And she wouldn't dare to if he didn't. With both Link and Mendez against her, she would be dead before she opened her mouth-as dead as poor Jock. Link must be rotten all the way through. How could she ever have imagined she was in love with him? Why did she imagine it still? Was she as sick over Link's degradation as she was over Jock's murder? And, God oh God, why had she ever got mixed up with the Tawnleys in the first place? Why hadn't she borne her baby without a father, rather than coming here to this pus-packed place?

Two days later, she went to the funeral with Link, and neither of them said a word that wasn't absolutely necessary. They rode to Wayside together, and they sat in the little mortuary chapel, with Mendez and all the other Tawnley employees behind them. They buried Jock beside his mother, in the cemetery that was on a hill above the town. Then they drove back to the feather farm, speaking as little as before.

Link walked Zoe to her door, but he didn't touch her nor offer to. He said unemotionally, "If you're afraid of being so far from town, now that it's almost time for the baby, I'll take you into Wayside to stay. You may live at the hospital-or board at some nice place till your time comes."

He leaned down and took her face in one of his hands, turning it toward his. "I'll take care of you, Little One. I'll try to be as good to you as Jock would have been. And sometime, when the hurt of losing him has left us, maybe we can think about a future together."

Stung by his calmness, by his maddening audacity, she sprang to her feet, feeling her baby drag her toward the floor. "How can you even suggest such a ... a vile thing, Link? Do you think I'd ever be a partner to what goes on here? "

Link's chin set grimly. "No, I'm sure you wouldn't, Zoe. You loved Jock all the time, didn't you? In spite of our night together, you loved him-not me."

"Certainly I love him!"

"Our love was only an interlude."

"God, yes. What else could it be?"

"Nothing else, Zoe. Nothing else at all."

Link turned and walked out of her driveway. She hoped he was also walking out of her life.

She called after him, "Don't worry about me. I'll call a taxi if I have to go to the hospital. I don't want you helping me. Not now-and not ever!"

So the days passed, three weeks of them. Zoe never exchanged words with Link during that time, nor with any other living soul. She took her walks as before, but she went around and around her house, never into the canyons. She locked her house every night, doors and windows. She meant to stay here only until the baby came. Then she would take her child and leave Link Tawnley's house, and his smuggling activities-along with his rotten, mi-resistible love-forever ...

Then came the afternoon when she heard the noise of a different plane overhead, a sound that was new to her on the ranch. It wasn't Link's Bonanza, nor any of the cargo planes either. This was a small craft, a private one; someone must be coming to visit Link. Nobody had done that since Zoe had been here. Who could it be?

Then she shrugged. It was none of her business who the visitors were at the big stone house. Link was his own man, and she was her own woman. There could never be any rapport between them again, not even the father-daughter kind.

She climbed the steps to her porch and went inside. The late afternoon was growing bitter cold, plainly blowing into a blue norther. As icy as the air was already, this one would be a doozy. She was glad she didn't have to be out in it for long. It would freeze her where she stood if it couldand the baby inside her too. She would be glad-so damned glad!-when she could leave this place and all its heartaches, and never come back.

But she had scarcely settled into her chair beside the TV when she heard a car stop outside her house. A knock came on her door and a voice called out, "Miz Tawnley, Miz Tawnley! Mister Link says for me to bring you to his house. He says you've got company over there."

She opened her door and stared at the man, one of the nameless workers she had seen about the place. She asked tonelessly, "Who is the-the company?"

"I donno, Miz Tawnley. It's women, the two women that come in on that plane a while ago; just the pair of 'em and the pilot that flew 'em here. Reckon it's somebody that knows you." He frowned as she didn't move. "Better come on. Mister Link don't like to be kept waitin'. If you're not scared of him gettin' mad, I am."

Zoe lumbered to her feet. She might as well see who these visitors were. What women, anywhere on earth, would care enough about her to come flying here to see her?

She let the man help her into his car, and out of it when they reached the great stone mansion. She clung to his arm as she made her way up the marble steps and across the veranda to the front door. Then she nodded to him, and opened the door without knocking. She might as well go barging in as if she belonged here. For the time being, she did.

She stood in the half light, squinting, seeing only the big room and the three figures who rose to their feet when she came in. The tallest of the three, Link, turned on a light somewhere. The brightness fell on the two female figures.

They were Clitey Shaw and Tutie Bear Torrento.

Clitey ran to Zoe and rained kisses on her sister's face. Zoe couldn't respond, but she didn't wince away. You couldn't refuse to let your own sister touch you, no matter what she was.

Clitey chattered, "I've been hunting you ever since you left me, Little Sis! And I just found out you were here, from Mendez, when he stopped to see Tutie Bear last week. He told me about the baby, and about Jock's accident. I knew I had to find out how you were and whether you needed me." She stood away and surveyed Zoe. "God, you're pooched out, Little Sis. Is your baby due tomorrow?"

Link answered before Zoe could, "It won't be here until next month, and she doesn't need you. She has a hundred men at her command, including me. So you two might as well crawl into that plane and fly back where you came from."

Clitey laughed delightedly. "Always your gruff old self, aren't you, sweetie? Always pretending you despise me, when God knows you're the first man in the sack with me whenever you're close enough." She left Zoe and went to Link, running a hand through his arm, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Tutie Bear came to visit Mendez ... Tutie Bear, dear, don't you want to run out and look for him now T

The Mexican woman nodded and left the house. Zoe's eyes went over her, noting the clean clothes, the combed hair. Tutie Bear was still fat, still uncouth, but cleanliness had done wonders for her. Had she really slicked up for Mendez? Or-which was more-likely-had Clitey made her clean up for the trip? And had she come to Mendez, not only for a good screwing, but also to make plans for their next smuggling spree?

When the three of them were alone, Clitey said, "You know you have to let us stay here tonight, Link, sweetie. And you know you wouldn't have me on your farm without enjoying me. The pilot can stay with some of your men. Mendez and Tutie Bear will be at his place, I'm sure, so they can screw as much as they want to. And you and I will do the same here at your house, won't we?"

Link's eyes were hostile. He snapped, "Damn it, Clitey-no! You're not going to settle down herewith me. No woman is going to move into my bedroom, you understand? I've told you a hundred times that

I had no intention of letting any female-"

"Oh, God, sweetie, knock it off. Nobody's trying to marry you. I'm just offering you a night's screwing. But if you don't want it, I won't beg you. I'm sure there are plenty of men here who could lay me tonight-and who'd jump at the chance."

She started toward the door. Link's eyes went to Zoe. Then his face set like stone, and he said tightly, "Come on back, Clitey. Nobody else around here has ever had hot pants for me. I might as well give you all you came for. You know you'll get it, and more, if you strip for me."

She already had her dress half off. "Little Sis, you run on home if you don't want to watch the best damn piece of ass any man ever got. I've had dozens of men since my last night with Link, but nobody like him." She turned to the man, and there was adulation in her eyes. "God, I'm crazy about you, you great big woman-flamer, you. So get out your red-hot poker and burn right through the middle of me, you hear?"

Link didn't stir toward the older girl; his eyes didn't brighten at the sight of her. small pointed breasts, nor at the rest of her beautiful body that she was revealing as fast as she could. Zoe's eyes went to the front of his pants, expecting to see the zipper bulging, the way it had bulged for her on their night together. But the cloth had not risen at all; the zipper was straight and smooth. It couldn't matter to Zoe now, or ever; she wanted no part of an international smuggler. Yet, for pride's sake, it was a satisfaction to know that she could make Link's cock stand straight when she uncovered her breasts, and that Clitey could not.

Link's eyes followed hers, and he glared her down. His voice was a snarl as he told Clitey, "You know goddamn well I'll cut your middle smack in two, you horny little hussy I I'll slice your meat till you yell for me to stop."

-Clitey laughed shakily. "All right, all right, lover-come on and start doing it. And I'll never yell for you to stop, you hear? I'll stay right here and let you screw me for the rest of my life!"

Zoe left them, shoving the great door shut as she went out. Over her shoulder she caught a glimpse of Link as he shoved Clitey ahead of him up the stairs. He didn't offer to carry her, as he had carried Zoe. His face wasn't happy as it had been in Zoe's house. And his cock wasn't pressing against his pants yet.

Oh, he would cut Clitey, of course. He would give her all the damned diddling she wanted, which would be a lot, and it would be the world's best. He would have as many climaxes as she did. But Zoe had the feeling that he would not really enjoy their love-making.

Perhaps he had not truly loved his night with Zoe either. Maybe he was the kind of man who could not love any woman completely.

Yet Zoe doubted if such a man ever lived.