However incredible it seemed, Alejandro Sanchez was alive.

Cruz saw from the startled expression on Alejandro’s face that he was equally surprised to see Cruz.

Alejandro turned to Sir Giles and demanded angrily, “What is he doing here?”

“Didn’t you know? My dear man, this is the Hawk. From now on, you two will be working together.”

“I think not,” Cruz said in a cold voice. “This bastard murdered my brother.”

“I executed a traitor and a fool,” Alejandro retorted. “One in whose footsteps you follow-Hawk. Or were you also involved in Tonio’s plot? For shame, Don Cruz, letting the Rangers capture your brother. If not for that-”

“You have said enough, Alejandro,” Cruz said curtly, interrupting the bandido’s speculation. “Whatever I was… whatever I am… you will pay for taking my brother’s life.”

Sir Giles looked from one man to the other, and saw them bristling, hands fisted, ready to fight. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. “I don’t give a damn what your personal differences are. I have work that has to get done.”

“Have you tasted the delights to be offered by Tonio’s puta?” Alejandro taunted Cruz.

“Shut your mouth, Alejandro, or this time I will cut out your tongue.”

“Where is she now?” Alejandro asked. “Have you tired of her so soon? I would not have thought she was much in bed myself, but Tonio bragged-”

Cruz’s hand shot out to grip Alejandro’s throat. In an instant the civilized man was gone, replaced by a ferocious beast. Alejandro was helpless in his grasp. The cold point of a sharp blade was pressed to the flesh beneath Alejandro’s jaw. “If you say another word about my wife, I will kill you.”

The two men measured one another, a mad dog and a ferocious hawk, both deadly, both capable of dealing swift and sure death.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen.” Sir Giles stepped toward the two men, but stopped short, suddenly aware how little he could do to stop them.

Cruz regained control by reminding himself of the importance of his mission. As suddenly as the beast had come, it was gone. He released Alejandro and sheathed his knife.

There was more at stake here than seeking revenge for his brother’s death and the insults to his wife. Tonio would be avenged-when the time was right. And for all his threats, Alejandro could not reach beyond the fortressed walls of Cruz’s hacienda to harm Sloan.

“I don’t care what your personal grievance is against this man,” Sir Giles said to Cruz. He turned back to Alejandro. “What is important to me is that the two of you manage to deal with one another. Now, what is it to be?”

Alejandro shrugged. “So long as you pay me well, I will work with the devil himself.”

Sir Giles looked at Cruz and thought maybe Alejandro was going to get his wish. “And you, Hawk? What say you?”

“I am willing to put my personal feelings aside. Until my mission is finished.”

Cruz’s gaze clashed with Alejandro’s. They both knew the day would come when they would fight to the death. Until then, they would watch and wait.

Because neither man intended to be the one to die.

Two days after Cruz had left, Sloan received a letter from Cricket.

Dear Sloan,

Luke wrote and told me what happened. I can hardly believe we have a brother! But then, I’ve always known there was something special about Luke. Can you believe what a noodleheaded lumpkin we have for a father? Imagine giving everything to a son!

Luke said you had gone to Dolorosa. I would say my feelings were hurt because you didn’t come here, but I suspect you had your reasons.

Is there any truth to the romance Bay suggested might be sprouting between you and Cruz? I hope so. I saw how Cruz watched you at Jesse’s christening last year. His eyes fairly glowed!

I expect you to write me all about everything. I wish I could be there, but this muffin growing inside me (we’re probably going to end up naming the poor thing Muffin), isn’t cooperating lately.

Your worried sister,

Cricket

It took Sloan hours to compose a reply, but time was something she had a great deal of lately.

Several days after Cruz had left, Miguel returned with the rest of Cruz’s vaqueros, empty-handed from their search for the two Randolph boys.

Sloan was glad she hadn’t offered any hope to Betsy that her cousins were alive. In a few years, they would be very much Comanches in thought and deed. They were as lost to Betsy as though they had died.

Besides writing to Cricket, Sloan had spent a great deal of time sending out letters in hopes of reaching Betsy’s aunt and uncle. She had also sent a note to Luke telling him about the mysterious Englishman, and Alejandro and the Hawk. She had urged him to come visit Dolorosa again so they could talk.

The rest of her time was spent playing with Betsy, avoiding Cisco, and missing Cruz.

It was devastating to admit that she was thinking about Cruz, because it meant she cared. And if there was one thing she had been determined to do, it was to avoid caring. Loving meant becoming vulnerable to hurt. And she had already been hurt enough for one lifetime.

She didn’t understand her feelings for the proud Spaniard, but she could hardly deny they existed. The question was what she should do about them. She had married Cruz because she had owed him that much. But that didn’t mean she had to open her heart to him.

She stayed close to the hacienda for two weeks after she had sent her letter to Luke, expecting him to arrive any day. When she received neither a letter of response nor a visit from Luke, and Cruz still hadn’t returned, she decided to put an end to the waiting-and escape for a while the golden cage in which Cruz had imprisoned her.

Early the next morning, she packed a few of her belongings in her carpetbag before going in search of Tomasita. She found her still abed.

Sloan leaned over Tomasita and whispered, “Tomasita, wake up.”

Tomasita woke abruptly and sat bolt upright. Sloan had to put a hand out to keep the young woman from jumping out of bed.

“Oh, Sloan, it is you. I thought it was Mother María and that I was late for morning vespers again.”

Sloan chuckled. “You can go back to sleep in a minute. I wanted to ask a favor of you.”

“Anything.”

“I’m riding to Three Oaks today. I don’t expect I’ll be back tonight. I left Betsy sleeping in my bed. Will you keep an eye on her for me while I’m gone?”

“But of course,” Tomasita said, and then added, “Are you not afraid to go riding so far by yourself?”

Sloan shrugged. “Not especially.”

“It must be wonderful to be so brave, not to fear the Comanches or bandidos or wild animals or snakes or scorpions or-”

“If you keep that up, I may begin to wonder whether you think I’m brave or just plain crazy,” Sloan said with a grin.

“I often wished for the courage to leave the convent and go in search of… I do not know what. But I suppose courage is something one is born with. And I was not.”

“I’m sure if you had really wanted to leave the convent, you would have found a way to do it,” Sloan said. “I don’t think any of us really knows what we’re capable of doing until the need arises. Then I think we sometimes surprise ourselves.

“I have no choice about making this journey. I have to find out what’s going on at Three Oaks. Give Betsy a hug for me.”

“I will.” Tomasita’s voice was slightly accusatory as she added, “And I shall hug Cisco, too.”

Sloan turned her head so Tomasita wouldn’t see that the jibe hurt. “Of course.” She whirled on her heel and headed for the door.

“Sloan?”

Sloan paused at the sound of Tomasita’s anxious voice.

“Be careful.”