“Ay, mierda! I do not believe my eyes.” Ignacio had crept up on them, and his eyes almost bugged out at the sight of her kneeling in front of Rafe’s naked backside. “By all the saints! You two could not even wait till dark to do the corkscrew.”
Sancho and Pablo scurried up to see what all the commotion was about.
“Can we watch?” Sancho asked in an overeager voice.
“I don’t understand,” Pablo interjected, tilting his head in several convoluted positions. “How do they do it with her — ”
“That’s about enough! You’ve all got your minds in the gutter.” Helen stood and put both hands on her hips, glowering at the bandits. “Rafe has a blister, and I need to take care of it. Otherwise, he’ll never be able to ride tomorrow. Untie him.”
Ignacio started to protest, but she added, “Listen, there’s no way Rafe could be this Angel Bandit guy. Did you see the way he rides a horse?”
Ignacio pondered her words, then nodded vigorously. “Si, he rides like a nina. Heh, heh, heh.”
“Do you people mind,” Rafe protested. “I’m standing here with my bare butt to the wind.”
The gang leader scowled contemptuously at Rafe.
“Are you going to untie him?” Helen persisted. “Even an imbecile can see he’s no bandit.”
“Is someone gonna pull up my freakin’ pants?”
Ignoring Rafe, Ignacio told Helen, “But, senorita, he looks like El Angel Bandido. And, if he escapes, we will lose the reward.”
“My ass is gettin’ a chill here, guys.”
“Ah, what harm can he do?” Ignacio shrugged. “I have the gun. And he ees a weakling.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“Si, he ees as useless as a spare prick at a wedding. Heh, heh, heh,” Ignacio quipped.
Helen glared at the vulgarity.
Rafe snarled at the insult.
Sancho chomped uninterestedly on a piece of jerky.
Pablo gaped with undue interest at Rafe’s exposed buttocks.
“If I get pneumonia, someone’s gonna pay.” Rafe threw the words out flippantly, but Helen could see the spark of anger in his blue eyes at Ignacio’s assessment of his prowess, not to mention his vulnerable nudity.
“Maldito! He ees a pain in the arse,” Ignacio opined.
“Yeah, isn’t he?” Helen replied sweetly.
Rafe shot her a look that said, “You’ll pay, too.”
Ignacio stepped to her side, about to untie Rafe’s wrists, when he jumped back suddenly, shouting, “Mire! Look! Look there!” He pointed at Rafe’s behind.
“Si! It ees the angel’s mark.” Sancho and Pablo made exaggerated signs of the cross over their chests.
“Angel wings! He truly ees El Angel Bandido,” Ignacio said in awe. Then, “Thank you, sweet Jesus! The reward ees as good as ours.”
“Those aren’t angel wings,” Helen corrected. “It’s a butterfly.” She traced the outline of the tattoo with her fingertips.
Rafe jerked and growled out to her in a low mutter, “Do you think you could stop touching me, Helen?”
“Oops,” she said.
Rafe’s eyes rolled in his head.
“So, you really are Elena,” Ignacio whooped, directing his attention back to her. “Muy bueno!” He made an obscene gesture with his fat tongue.
Helen barely stopped herself from slugging him a good one. She restrained herself — for Rafe’s benefit, of course. “Mr. Ignacio, are — ”
“Villejo,” he interrupted. “My name ees Ignacio Juan Rico Hector Villejo.” His chest puffed out with pride.
“Yeah, well, Mr. Villejo, are you going to let me care for Rafe’s injury, or not? The international rules of combat say that rudimentary medical treatment must be — ”
“Chill out, Helen,” Rafe said ungraciously.
Ignacio twirled his mustache speculatively for several moments, then agreed. “We weel untie The Angel for a short time so that you may minister to him.” He laughed, as if at a private jest, adding, “Later, you may minister to me, too.”
Pablo held the front waistband out from his loose trousers and glanced inside. “My balls are turnin’ blue from all the kicks I got today. Do you think you could put some ointment on me, too?” he asked Helen.
“Get a life!”
“Huh?” Pablo blinked with confusion and squinted quizzically at Rafe.
“I think that means, ‘Not now,’ ” Rafe translated. “Maybe later.”