Page 71 of Love Me Once

“Gold. At the end of every week. No contributions by violence, as these bands ofguerrillerosseem to favor. They don’t have to be young just fit. And with no strong political ideologies.” The country was mostly impoverished and disordered after countless wars, attempts at conquest and being spread thin around the world. But those that remained were dedicated to their homeland.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it already will be.”

Roman and Rousseau traveled on, compelled to get home. Shelene wouldn’t be home yet—probably late tomorrow. He doubted Belgrano would show his face soon. If he was in Malaga, Roman would adjust his thinking. If he was still in and around Arco de la Frontera, Roman would find out.

To his surprise, Shelene’s carriage was in the rounded turn lane, in front of the hacienda. The commodore was outside talking to the coachman. Had they just arrived?

Hightower glanced at Roman but didn’t acknowledge him. Roman saw the blood on the coachman’s jacket.Oh, shit! Roman flung himself from the horse. A stable boy was there to grab the reins and leads. Rousseau jumped from his horse too.

“Commodore, what’s happened? Has Shelene or Antonio been hurt?”

Hightower’s hair was raised in wild clumps, his face red. “No. Thank God, they are unharmed. They’re inside.”

“What happened?”

“I’m trying to find out.”

Roman dashed away and into the house where servants were scrambling about with water, cloths and blankets. One of the riders was lying on a table in the middle of the atrium, blood splattering on the tile floor. Shelene was over him, directing everyone. Sakina seemed to be the one in charge of the wound at the rider’s shoulder, and he seemed to be coherent. Usually, a good sign.

The other rider stood to the side. He was the man Roman wanted to interrogate—God, habits died hard.

He went to Shelene’s side and touched her arm. “What can I do?” he asked in a quiet by authoritative voice.

She glanced up, her lips pressed into a firm line and her brow pulled. “Oh, Roman.” She gripped his hand.

“It looks like it could have been much worse. What happened?”

“Someone shot at us.”

“Not a robbery? You didn’t see anyone?”

“I didn’t, no. I was inside the carriage.” She touched his arm. “Antonio is safe.”

Roman nodded. He kept his expression unreadable. “I’ll be right back. I need to talk to the other rider and the coachman.”

“Roman, it wasn’t Uncle. I am sure of it.”

“If it was, he will be dead before the week is over.”

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