Higgins and Stander 02-Taking A Bride

Irene Hill
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 Taking A Bride

A Higgins and Stander Novel

Irene Hill
Copyright © 2022 by Irene Hill

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or
author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various
products referenced status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which
have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with
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I dedicate this book to my sister, Shanon, who listens to all my ideas
and helps me work through my stuck points. And as always, my
husband Jeremy, who puts up with this crazy hobby of mine and
supports me in all my writing endeavors.
 Contents
1. 1. September 14, 2006
2. 2. September 14, 2006
3. 3. September 14, 2006
4. 4. September 15, 2006
5. 5. September 15, 2006
6. 6. September 21, 2006
7. 7. September 25, 2006
8. 8. September 25, 2006
9. 9. September 25, 2006
10. 10. September 27, 2006
11. 11. September 27, 2006
12. 12. September 29, 2006
13. 13. September 30, 2006
14. 14. October 1, 2006
15. 15. October 3, 2006
16. 16. October 4, 2006
17. 17. October 6, 2006
18. 18. October 8, 2006
19. 19. October 8, 2006
20. 20. October 8, 2006
21. 21. October 9, 2006
22. 22. October 9, 2006
23. 23. October 10, 2006
24. 24. October 11, 2006
25. 25. October 11, 2006
26. 26. October 11, 2006
27. 27. October 11, 2006
28. 28. October 11, 2006
29. 29. October 11, 2006
30. 30. October 12, 2006
31. 31. October 12, 2006
32. 32. October 12, 2006
33. 33. October 12, 2006
34. 34. October 12, 2006
35. 35. October 12, 2006
36. 36. October 12, 2006
37. 37. October 13, 2006
38. 38. October 14, 2006
39. 39. November 7, 2006
40. 40. January 23, 2007
41. 41. February 20, 2007
42. 42. May 28, 2007
43. 43. July 2, 2007
44. 44. November 8, 2007
45. 45. November 8, 2007
46. Also By Irene Hill
47. About The Author
Chapter One
 September 14, 2006
SHE PLACED THE BABY in the cradle after he fell asleep. She sat
down on the bed and stared at the wall as she did every afternoon.
When her husband was away, she could do nothing else. Her eyes
wandered around the room as they normally did, and she noticed
light coming in under the door. It wasn’t time for her husband to be
home, but there was never light in her basement unless he was
allowing it to enter.
She tried the door, and her shoulders slumped. It was locked, as
usual. She turned back toward the bed and noticed the candlestick
sitting on the table. It had never occurred to her that it could be
anything but a decoration on the side table until that moment. She
picked it up, weighing it in her hand for a few moments. Then she
grabbed it like a baseball bat and knocked the doorknob off the door.
After some fiddling with the inner workings of the doorknob, she
opened the door and stood at the base of a stairwell, sunlight
streaming down from the upper level. She wanted to venture up the
stairs, but leaving the safety of her basement scared her.
She made her way upstairs, hesitant but curious. She wanted to
explore the rest of the house. Her husband had escorted her
upstairs on a few rare occasions, but he never allowed her to roam
freely. He never allowed her to do anything but sit in her basement
unless he was with her. Even then her privileges were limited. She
moved first to the kitchen, where she found a bag of chocolate
candy sitting on the counter. Her husband hadn’t allowed her candy
since before the baby was born. She ate several pieces before
moving on to the other rooms of the house. There was nothing of
interest in the living room or bathroom, but she found several outfits
that seemed to be for her in the bedroom. There were clothes that
would fit the baby as well. She thought about changing out of the
clothes she was in—into one of the nice outfits in the closet—but
didn’t want her husband to catch her stealing from his bedroom. She
also found a stack of books on the nightstand and took two of them.
If she hid the books under her bed, it would give her something to
do when her husband wasn’t home. Something rustled outside and
she jumped, afraid her husband was home. Her knees became weak
at the thought of him finding her upstairs, breaking the rules.
She made her way back to the stairs to return to the basement.
She walked past the back door and stared out the window into the
sunshine. She hadn’t been outside in eleven years and wanted
nothing more than to enjoy the sun on her skin for a few moments.
Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the deadbolt. After several
moments of hesitation, she made her way into the yard. She could
spend a few minutes enjoying the sunshine and then return to the
basement before her husband returned from work.
She walked around the yard, noticing that they didn’t have any
close neighbors, but that didn’t matter, she wasn’t allowed human
interactions with anyone but her husband anyway. The yard wasn’t
pretty. It didn’t have any grass or flowers, but instead, it was a dirt
patch with weeds. It didn’t matter to her, though; she was outside.
She began walking, not knowing where she would go, but knowing
she needed to get back into her basement before the evening came.
She walked down the dirt path that served as the home’s driveway.
When she reached the road, she walked down the side of it,
enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin and the light breeze
tossing her hair. A car drove by and she shuddered, realizing that
her husband would lose his mind if anyone saw her.
She also realized that this was her chance to go home—to her real
home. Back to her parents and her friends. It had been so long since
she had seen them. Her husband assured her they had long ago
stopped looking for her and stopped caring about her. Her mother
and father had moved on and decided they didn’t need her anymore.
If that was true, there was nothing to go back to. Another car drove
past her. She considered the possibilities. She could return to her
basement and the baby, or she could try to get someone to stop for
her. Neither option seemed ideal. She was tired of her basement and
scared of her husband, but she had no place in the outside world.
Eventually, she turned around and began walking back. Back to
the life she knew.
Chapter Two
 September 14, 2006
JAKE STANDER STOOD IN Alesha Johnson’s yard, pounding a
‘Stander for Sheriff’ sign into the grass. Jake was a tall man with
broad shoulders, dirty blond hair, and a three-day scruff on his
jawline. He had a smile and demeanor that made everyone around
him feel at ease. Jake had spent the day driving around Riverton and
Lander, looking for people willing to let him post a sign on their
property. He was running for sheriff against Jim Hancock, who had
been the sheriff for the past two and a half years. Jim had taken
office after the former sheriff, Brett Johnson, Alesha’s husband, had
died in the line of duty.
Jake’s five-year-old son was sitting in the back seat of his Ford
Explorer, making faces at his dad. Jake hurried to get the last few
signs out for the day before he had to go home and get ready for his
night shift as a deputy. He had been pulling night shifts since he
announced his plan to run for sheriff. He couldn’t help but feel that
he was being punished for his candidacy by the current sheriff. As
Jake finished pounding the sign in, a beat-up pickup truck pulled into
the driveway. A tall, lanky young man with rust-colored hair got out
of the pickup and walked toward Jake.
“Hey, Stander. Did you hear the good news?”
“I heard you’re giving your mom a few more gray hairs and
disappearing for twelve weeks.” Jake grinned broadly at Tucker.
“Proud of you, kid. Of course, I can’t stand behind your decision to
work for the city.”
“Maybe if you win, I’ll consider switching departments.” Tucker
returned the smile to Jake. “I don’t know though; that might kill my
mom.”
As if on cue, Alesha’s white Toyota pulled up and came to a stop
in the driveway. Alesha climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked
toward Tucker and Jake. “What are you two doing out here?”
“I’m getting ready to leave. I’ve got to get ready for work.”
“I was just making sure Jake knew my good news.”
 Alesha’s face screwed into a frown. “I wish you’d quit calling this
new job good news. It’s more of a nightmare for your mother.”
“Mom, it will be OK. I’m not going to go gallivant off on any crazy
undercover missions. I promise.”
“Please. If your Uncle Joe offered you the same thing he offered
your father, you’d go in a heartbeat.”
“He’s going to be fine, Alesha. More of us come home safe at
night than not.”
“I don’t have to like it.”
“It will be OK, Mom.”
“I hope so.” Alesha’s eyes were misty, and Jake wanted to fix it for
her.
He’d been with Brett the night of his death and couldn’t help but
have some guilt about not being able to do more to protect the
sheriff. Jake approached Alesha and pulled her into a hug. She
relaxed into his arms.
After holding Alesha for a long moment, she pulled away from him
and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Have lots of people let you
put signs out?”
“Yeah, I’ve put quite a few out today. Hoping the girls will get
even more put out tomorrow.” Jake’s daughters were both off work
the next day and planned to take signs around for him. He took a
guess that Tucker would be with them if he wasn’t busy. “Well, I
better get going. I’ve got to get Riggin to Becky’s and take a shower
before work.”
Jake walked toward his Explorer, then paused as he opened the
driver’s door. “Hey Lesh, we’re not having Sunday dinner this week.”
“That’s all right. I’m driving Trucker to Douglas on Sunday,
anyway.”
Jake got into the driver’s seat and started the vehicle. He looked in
the rearview mirror at Riggin. “Put your seatbelt on, buddy.”
“Are we going home, Daddy?”
“You’re going to Aunt Becky’s house. Daddy has to work tonight.”
“I don’t want you to go to work. And I don’t want to go to Aunt
Becky’s house.” Riggin kicked the back of Jake’sseat and stuck out
his bottom lip.
 I know buddy, but dad has to work.”
Jake drove the few blocks to his second ex-wife’s house and
walked up to the door with Riggin. Becky had been babysitting
Riggin since he had been a few months old, but she had been the
primary female influence in his life since his mother died more than
a year prior. If it wasn’t for Becky, Jake didn’t know how he and
Riggin would survive. She watched him no matter what shift Jake
was working and treated him like he was one of her own. It worked
out well since he was close to the same age as her daughter, Tansey.
Also, being at her house gave Riggin the opportunity to be with his
older brother, Dustin, more often.
Becky came to the door and met them as they walked up the
steps. “Hey Rigs, are you ready for a snack? I bet Dad’s been
dragging you around town all day putting up his silly signs.”
“Can I have a cookie?”
“No, but you can have string cheese.”
“OK.” Riggin walked past Becky and headed toward the kitchen.
Becky turned her attention toward Jake. “How’s the campaign
going?”
“Pretty good so far.”
“You’ve got our vote.”
“Thanks, Beck. Well, I better get home and shower before my
shift. I’ll see you tomorrow around noon.”
“Sounds good. Stay safe out there, Jake.”
Jake made his way home, took a quick shower, and then put on
his uniform and headed into work.
Less than an hour into his shift, Jake was knocking on door,
preparing to take a statement. He knocked and waited
several moments for a response.
The door slowly opened. “Well, hello Jacob.”
Chapter Three
 September 14, 2006
ARNETTA LEWIS WAS OLD when she taught Jake in the fifth grade.
At least, that was what he thought. Now, he sat in her living room,
realizing that she must not have been as old as he thought when he
was ten. Mrs. Lewis had retired years ago, and lived in Lyons Valley.
When Jake responded to the call, he hadn’t quite understood what
was going on. Dispatch hadn’t completely filled him in.
“It’s like I said, at first I wasn’t sure it was her. But the longer I
thought about it, the more I’m sure I saw Cheryl Ann.”
Cheryl Ann Reynolds had grown up in Lander—at least, until her
fifteenth birthday. Shortly after turning fifteen, in 1995, she went
missing. Cheryl Ann was an academically gifted student who skipped
a year in elementary school and started her junior year of high
school at the time of her disappearance. She had stayed after school
to tutor another student. She was last seen leaving the high school
after telling a friend she was going home. She never arrived. Jake
had helped search for her, but no evidence ever turned up. It was as
if she just evaporated.
“Mrs. Lewis, what makes you think the woman you saw was
Cheryl Ann?”
“Well, she looked a lot like Mrs. Reynolds. You know, Cheryl Ann’s
mother. I taught Cheryl Ann the year she skipped from third to fifth
grade. I got to know the Reynolds family quite well that year. So,
that was my first clue. The second clue was that the woman had a
birth mark on her cheek. You remember Cheryl Ann’s birthmark,
don’t you?”
Jake could clearly see the photo from the missing persons’ flier in
his mind. Cheryl Ann was a pretty girl with dark hair, hazel eyes, and
a birthmark on her left cheek. It was a dark, medium sized blotch
that covered her cheekbone. Jake was skeptical of Mrs. Lewis’ claim,
but he had to admit that seeing a woman with a similar birthmark
seemed unlikely.
“And where did you see her again?”
 “Mr. Stander, have you been listening to me at all?” Mrs. Lewis
took a tone with him that only a seasoned teacher could command.
“Pay attention this time. I was driving to the rest area out at Sand
Draw to meet my granddaughter. I had some things for her new
house down in Rawlins. On my way, I passed a woman walking
down the side of the road. She didn’t look up as I passed, so I didn’t
stop. If people need help, they wave you down, and she didn’t. I
thought she looked familiar, but didn’t think much of it until I was
driving back home and I thought about the birthmark.”
“Other than the birthmark and her resemblance to Mrs. Reynolds,
what did you notice about the woman?”
“She had dark hair. She was wearing clothing that looked worn out
and too big for her. Also, she was staring straight ahead. Never
turned to look as I drove by. Just stared straight ahead and kept
walking. Almost like she was in a trance.”
Jake jotted down some notes, not sure what he was going to do
with the information. He excused himself from Mrs. Lewis’s home.
He drove out toward the Jeffery City turnoff and around to the rest
area. Although Mrs. Lewis had spotted the woman hours before,
Jake figured it didn’t hurt to see if she was still there. He didn’t see
anyone and circled back through Sand Draw and Riverton. Then he
headed back to Lander to write his report.
He hadn’t heard anything about Cheryl Ann in years and found it
odd that Mrs. Lewis would think she had seen her out of the blue.
There were a few theories about her disappearance, but nothing
could be proven or disproven. There were, of course, those that
believed she was a runaway. The problem with that theory was that
she had never exhibited any signs of running away. Then there were
the theories that the student she had stayed late to tutor had
harmed her. At the time, he hadn’t been a suspect, but five years
after her disappearance he was arrested in Laramie for aggravated
sexual assault. The detective from Lander PD had gone to Laramie
and questioned the man about Cheryl. He maintained that he walked
with her to the edge of the high school parking lot and never saw
her again. Of course, her parents had been questioned and
suspected as well. There was no evidence to indicate a poor home
life and nothing came of the questioning.
Jake had always been of the opinion that she’d run away. Even
though she didn’t seem the type, it was the only explanation that
made any sense to him. He didn’t think the parents or the other
student had any motive to hurt her.
Jake finished up his report and then returned to his patrol. The
night air was crisp and cool. It was a typically quiet Thursday night
and Jake spent a majority of his shift working on his campaign plan.
With the election less than two months away, he didn’t have a lot of
time left to make a good impression.
He also thought about Mrs. Lewis’s report. Mrs. Lewis appeared to
be of sound mind, but he couldn’t think of any reason she would
connect a random pedestrian with an eleven-year-old missing
person’s case. No one suspected that Cheryl Ann was still in the area
—if she was even alive. Her disappearance rocked Lander and the
thought of her turning up again after all this time made his head
throb. He didn’t know how the community would take it, but he was
sure it would make the news state wide if not at the national level.
Jake considered what it might mean if Cheryl Ann was still alive and
living in Lander when his radio lit up with a call.
Chapter Four
 September 15, 2006
JAKE WAS THE SECOND one on the scene. The first responder was
Wyoming Highway Patrolman Spencer Larsen, who happened to be a
good friend of Jake’s. When Jake approached Spencer, he didn’t see
any sign of the person who made the 911 call. Spencer was kneeling
at the side of the road and when Jake got near him, he could see
that Spencer was cradling a woman’s head in his knees. Jake came
closer to them and used his flashlight to supplement the illumination
coming from his headlights. Spencer’s patrol vehicle was in front of
the scene, and his light bar threw blue and red strobes over
everything. It was a light scheme they were both familiar working
under.
“What can I do?”
“Check on the status of the ambulance. She’s still breathing, but I
don’t know if she will be for long. Her pulse is weak. I can’t get
anything but some moaning out of her.”
“Got it.” Jake used his radio to check on the status of the
ambulance and found that they were five minutes out.
After he finished with his radio, he took a long look at the victim
and couldn’t believe what he saw. The woman had dark hair, and
although it was hard to tell from the bruising on her face, she had
what looked like a birthmark on her left cheek. Her clothes were ill-
fitting and worn. This had to be the woman that Mrs. Lewis saw
walking the afternoon before. Jake didn’t know the Reynolds family
and he wasn’t overly familiar with Cheryl Ann’s case, but he had to
admit that the woman resembled an older version of the girl on the
missing persons’ posters that hung around town for years after her
disappearance.
“Spencer, do you recognize this woman?”
“No. Do you?”
“I’m not sure. I think she might have something to do with a call I
took at the beginning of my shift. Do you remember the Cheryl Ann
Reynolds case?”
 “Vaguely. I was in high school when she disappeared, but I’m from
Farson, so I didn’t know her. I just remember how freaked out
everyone was about the disappearance.”
Jake often forgot how much younger Spencer was. They’d been
friends since Spencer became a patrolman six years ago and
sometimes it felt longer than that.
“I took a report from an older woman today saying that she saw
Cheryl Ann walking down the side of the road out this way. I came
out here for a drive, but didn’t see any sign of her. I don’t know if
this is Cheryl Ann, but I’m almost certain this is the woman Mrs.
Lewis saw.”
The ambulance pulled up behind Jake’s patrol vehicle, adding to
the strobing lights. The crew approached the scene with the gurney
and went to work stabilizing the woman and preparing her for
transport. Once they had her on the gurney and loaded into the
ambulance, they left, running both their lights and siren. Jake knew
that wasn’t a good sign.
“Didn’t someone call her in?”
“Yeah, a motorist noticed her lying by the side of the road and
called 911,” Spencer responded as he wiped the dirt from his pant
legs.
“So, where are they?”
“That’s a great question. They were parked here when I pulled up,
but before I even came to a full stop, they took off. I would have
pursued them, but I couldn’t leave her lying there on the side of the
road, hoping the next responder would find her. And they didn’t have
a license plate. The only information I have is that they were driving
an older model Chevy sedan.”
“Which direction did they go?” Jake wished Spencer had given him
this information when he arrived on the scene. He could have
pursued the vehicle.
“They headed north.” It wasn’t hard to read what Jake was
thinking and Spencer responded to his thought. “They had a good
five-minute head start on you. It wouldn’t have helped to have you
chase after them.”
 “I could have tried. What if they didn’t see her alongside the road?
What if they’re the ones that put her here?”
“That occurred to me too, Stander. Doesn’t change the fact that
they had a lead and it’s easy to disappear out here. If they’re the
bad guys, they probably ditched off on a two track and shut their
lights down. We’d never find them.”
“We should have tried.” Jake understood what Spencer said, but
that didn’t change his mind. He should have gone looking for them.
Even if they hadn’t dumped the woman there, they needed to give a
statement. Jake thought about pushing the conversation, but knew it
wouldn’t do any good. Spencer had a hair trigger when it came to
his anger and Jake didn’t want to cause an outburst. He willed his
fisted hands to relax and took a deep breath. “You following her in
or do you want me to?”
“My case. I was the first on the scene. I’ll follow her in.” Spencer
turned away from Jake and walked back toward his vehicle.
Jake could tell he’d pushed Spencer too far, so he didn’t say
anything more. Spencer got into his vehicle and pulled away. He
wasn’t running his lights, but he should have been.
Jake stayed at the scene to collect evidence, which took him a lot
longer than he wanted. Everything on the ground around where the
woman had been could be evidence and had to be bagged and
tagged.
When he finished collecting all the evidence he could find, Jake
checked his watch. It was 0425 hours. He needed to get back to the
department, write up the reports, and then his shift would be over.
He needed to get a few hours of sleep when he got off before
helping his girls put out more signs and making some stops at a few
local businesses to try and garner support. As he thought about it,
he wasn’t sure he wanted his girls out making contacts alone. All the
talk of Cheryl Ann had him worrying about Breanna and Shayla’s
safety. He couldn’t imagine one of them being kidnapped. Losing
one of his girls would kill him.
He did his best to return his focus to the campaign. He knew it
would be hard to run against the current sheriff, but he had his
flaws, and one of them was his demeanor. Jim Hancock was a man
of action, but not a man of emotion. If Jake could be the friendly
candidate, it would definitely play to his favor. Even when Hancock
was trying, he wasn’t very approachable.
Jake finished up his reports a little after 0500 hours. He was on
his way home when his cell phone buzzed with a text. He made a U-
turn and headed toward the hospital.
When he pulled into the ER parking lot, his sister Amanda was
standing near the front entrance. She approached his vehicle and he
rolled his window down.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Spencer said you were on that call with him this morning.”
“Yeah, I was there.”
“Do you really think that’s Cheryl Ann?” Jake knew that Amanda
remembered when the young girl went missing. She was only five
years younger than his sister and suddenly he worried about her
walking to her car after work.
“I doubt it. But I’m sure that’s the woman that Mrs. Lewis saw
walking and reported as Cheryl Ann. I can see the resemblance.”
“Wouldn’t that be crazy if it was her?”
“Yeah, that would be nuts. How is she?”
“Not good. They’re shipping her out to Casper. Sounds like she’s
got a lot of internal injuries.” Amanda played with her fingernails,
likely not knowing what else to say. She didn’t seem like her normal
perky self. “I better get back to my desk.”
“Yeah, I better get home and get some sleep. I’ve got to shake
hands and kiss babies if I’m going to win this election.”
“You’re going to do great. You’ll make a fantastic sheriff.”
Chapter Five
 September 15, 2006
MIDWAY THROUGH JOE HIGGINS’ shift, the news was all over the
department. They had picked a Jane Doe up on the side of the road
out in the middle of nowhere the night before. Jake Stander thought
she might be a girl who went missing eleven years prior. Joe vividly
remembered the Cheryl Ann Reynolds case. It had been in Lander
PD jurisdiction, but everyone had helped search for Cheryl Ann. The
predominant theory had been that she was a runaway, but Joe never
bought into it. She didn’t have any history to indicate that she
wanted to run away, and nothing was missing from her home except
the things she took to school every day. Her money jar was still full
on the desk in her bedroom, and she didn’t even take a change of
clothes.
Joe had always suspected the student she’d been tutoring. His
suspicions became even stronger after the young man committed a
sexual assault a few years after her disappearance. He maintained
his innocence though, and no evidence ever turned up to indict him.
As skeptical as Joe was about people, he didn’t believe that she had
it in her to run away. He was convinced that she was a kidnapping
victim, but there was no evidence. No one had seen her walking
home after she left the high school campus. No one saw anything,
and that seemed even more suspicious to Joe. In a small town like
Lander, people watched other people. He was convinced that
someone had seen something, but they didn’t realize it was
important. Or they were too scared to come forward. Either way, Joe
firmly believed someone had kidnapped Cheryl Ann.
What he didn’t believe—or struggled to believe—was that she had
turned up now, lying on the side of the highway. If someone local
had abducted her, the chance they kept her alive for the past eleven
years was phenomenally low. If someone held her against her will,
why would they leave her for dead on the side of the road now?
Then again, stranger things had happened. God’s Gatherers kept
Brody alive for four years when Joe had assumed he was dead. Even
if Jane Doe was Cheryl Ann Reynolds, this wasn’t the weirdest case
Joe had ever worked.
Joe wanted to talk to Jake and get the full story, but he knew Jake
was sleeping. He wanted to wait around at the end of his shift and
catch Jake then, but he wasn’t sure his babysitter would appreciate
that. She had kept his son Brody later than usual several times
already that month, and he didn’t think he could ask her to do it
again. Joe knew one other way to get information about the case, at
least about the victim. He sent a quick text and drove to the ER
parking lot.
He stood at the side of his patrol vehicle, waiting several minutes
before Amanda walked out. Joe was a tall, stocky man with dark hair
and dark eyes. His hair was cropped military style now; although, it
had once hung down his back in a long, traditional braid. His
features were sharp, but he was good-looking in a severe sort of
way.
When Amanda emerged from the hospital, she looked exhausted.
That wasn’t good because her shift was only halfway over.
Joe hugged her when she reached him and then let her out of his
embrace. “You guys busy today?”
“Slammed. There was an ugly domestic and two falls at the
nursing home. I’ve been doing back-to-back admissions since seven
this morning.”
“Well, I won’t keep you, but I wanted to know if you had any
information on Jane Doe?”
“She was in bad shape when she left for Casper. I haven’t heard
anything since.”
“Have you seen your brother?”
“Yeah, he was here at the end of his shift.”
“Does he really think she’s Cheryl Anne?” Joe tried to keep the
skepticism from his voice, but he couldn’t hide it completely.
“No. He said he can’t rule it out, but he’s not convinced. I don’t
think he would have considered it, but Mrs. Lewis reported seeing
her earlier in the day yesterday. So, when Jane Doe turned up,
Cheryl Ann was on Jake’s mind. He seemed pretty agitated about the
whole case this morning. I think the possibility of it being her has
him reeling.” Amanda reached for Joe’s hand and held it as she
finished talking. “She didn’t have any ID on her, so her identity is
anyone’s guess. The doc last night didn’t have any faith she’d make
it out of this, so who knows if we’ll ever know who she is.”
“They could always do a DNA sample and check it against Mrs.
Reynolds.”
“Yeah, I guess that could rule out the Cheryl Ann theory.” Amanda
gave Joe’s hand a squeeze and then let it go. “I’ve got to get back to
work. If my boss notices me missing, she’ll kill me.”
Joe pecked her on the cheek and then opened the door of his
patrol vehicle. “Yeah, I’ve got to get back to work too.” He left the
parking lot after watching Amanda walk back into the hospital.
Joe stayed busy for most of his shift, but thoughts of Jane Doe
occupied his mind. He wanted to know how she was doing, and he
wanted to see a picture of her. Shortly before his shift ended, he
shot a text message to Jake and another to Becky, Jake’s ex-wife,
and his babysitter. When he called off duty, he sat in the parking lot
of the department and waited.
Jake pulled up a few minutes after five and climbed out of his
patrol. He stood next to Joe and pulled out a cigarette. “I don’t know
if Jane Doe is her or not.”
“Well, the rumor mill says you’re certain we’ve found Cheryl Ann.”
“The rumor mill is full of shit.”
“Yeah, I figured. But you think there’s a chance it’s her?”
“I can’t rule it out, but I don’t know. I never would have thought
of her if it wasn’t for Mrs. Lewis’s report earlier in the night. Hell, I
haven’t thought about Cheryl Ann since K2 did that special on her a
year ago for the tenth anniversary of her disappearance.”
“Did you get pictures?”
“No. Spencer was going to get them at the hospital, but I don’t
have any.”
“You know, if that woman is Cheryl Ann, that means someone
local has been holding her as a prisoner. I can’t think of anyone
around here doing that.”
“You’re the one that’s always telling me the world is a dark, ugly
place. I can’t believe you can’t believe it.” Jake chuckled dryly. He
was the optimistic one of the two of them. Joe was the cynic. Joe
had every right to see the dark side of the world, and that made
Jake even more surprised that Joe couldn’t wrap his head around
Cheryl Ann being held against her will for the past eleven years.
“I just don’t know how you keep a prisoner hidden for that long in
this small of a community without someone noticing.”
“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. She probably isn’t Cheryl
Ann. It’s not like she’s the only person on earth with a birthmark on
her face.”
“Jane Doe has a birthmark?” Joe didn’t believe in coincidence,
especially not one that uncommon.
“I think so. The light wasn’t good, and she was bruised up, but it
looked like she had a birthmark on her left cheek.”
“That can’t be a coincidence.”
“It could be. Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“That would be an awfully strange coincidence.”
“Isn’t your shift over?” Jake elbowed Joe, put out his cigarette,
and gave his friend a toothy grin. “Quit messing with my mind. It’s
hard enough to figure this out without your help.”
“Yeah, I’ve got to go get Brody and get home. Got a few chores to
do before the night’s over.”
“Isn’t Jeff taking care of everything for you?”
“I have him leave a few things for me. Things I prefer to handle
myself.”
Chapter Six
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
Luego salió Damón, mozo
membrudo, aunque de poca
edad, gran amigo de Colín, pero
presto le hizo compañía y alguna
parte de consuelo.
Los dos vencidos pastores tenían
á Barcino más animoso y á los
circunstantes menos
determinados. Y assí de la
segunda lucha le dexaron algún
tanto de lugar para que
descansasse; pero Pradelio, que,
ardido en amores, los ojos en la
pastora Filena, con gran atención
veía mirar á los otros que
luchaban, pareciéndole que le
hurtaba á su corazón cualquier
vuelta que con sus ojos daba en
otra parte, á la hora, sin más
prevención de quitarse el gabán y
el cinto, se presentó con gentil
cuerpo y donaire al vitorioso
Barcino, que ya le esperaba.
Asiéronse por los brazos
igualmente, y aunque la fuerza de
Barcino era aventajada, la maña
de Pradelio no era menos, y
cuanto el uno de la fuerza del
uno, el otro de la maña del otro se
debían recelar. Y assí, andando
en torno gran espacio, sin dar el
uno lugar al otro para sus fuerzas
ni el otro al otro para sus mañas,
ya sus venas estaban tan gruesas
que parecían querer reventar, y el
sudor de sus frentes les quitaba la
vista; pisaban sobre la verde
hierba, inconveniente grande para
Barcino por no poder restribar en
ella como quisiera, pero no para
Pradelio, que tenía en esso la
confianza. Y assí, viendo á
Barcino que con gran furia venía
sobre él, hurtándole el cuerpo,
tuvo muy cerca la vitoria; mas el
fuerte pastor, proveyendo al daño,
tan fuertemente tuvo á Pradelio
por los brazos, que juntos
llegaron á tierra y juntos se
levantaron, juntos se tornaron á
apercibir y juntos gimieron como
dos bravos toros en pelea. Ya la
gente estaba admirada de la
terrible y peligrosa lucha, y
lastimosos los dos pastores; pero
ellos, más animosos que al
principio, iban buscando sus
presas, cuando Sileno, puesto en
medio, les atajó su porfía, con
aprobación de toda la compañía,
mayormente de las pastoras
Dinarda y Filena. Y á Barcino le
fué dado el cayado gentil, y á
Pradelio el galán arco, y á Colín y
á Damón licencia para tenerles
envidia.
Quedó Sileno nuevamente
deseoso de ver á los demás
ejercitarse en saltar ó correr ó
tirar á la barra. Gran turba de
pastores se levantó para estos
ejercicios, pero con diferentes
intentos: porque Uranio y Folco,
Frónimo y Tirseo, se apercibieron
para la carrera; Elpino, Bruno y
Silveo para la barra; Delio,
Lidonio y Florino para el salto.
Cupo la primera suerte de
ejercicio á los cuatro corredores,
que sin ningún detenimiento se
despojaron de sus vestidos, salvo
de las camisas y zarafuelles, sin
medias ni zapatos. Puso Sileno al
cabo de la carrera, que era en
una parte del valle, sin tropiezo ni
hierba, cuatro premios. El
primero, y menos bueno, un rabel
de tres cuerdas, de oloroso ciprés
de Candía; el segundo, y mejor,
un zurrón de seda y lana, labrado
con gran arte; el tercero, y mejor
que el segundo, un espejo de
acero, guarnecido en palo de
serval; el cuarto, y mejor que
todos, un puñal de monte, por la
una parte de corte vivo y por la
otra sierra muy fuerte, con vaina
verde y empuñadura de cuerno
de ciervo, trabado con correas
blancas de venado. En esta
forma: el rabel colgaba de un
olmo; y adelante ocho pasos, el
zurrón, de un salce; y otros ocho
adelante, el espejo, de un mirto; y
doce más el puñal, de un enebro.
Y hecha calle vistosíssima de
todos los pastores y pastoras, ya
que los cuatro corredores estaban
los pies izquierdos adelante y los
derechos casi en las puntas,
haciendo Arsindo señal, el son de
su bocina fué como el de la
cuerda de sacudido arco, y los
pastores no otra cosa parecieron
que ligeras saetas por el aire.
Fáltame por decir lo más gustoso:
como Sildeo, pastor de claro
entendimiento, aunque de pies
perezosos, vido el orden con que
los premios estaban, barruntó
luego lo que había de suceder, y
alzó al viento las luengas haldas
del sayo y púsose con los cuatro,
que en ligereza excedían al
viento, y juntamente con ellos
empezó á medir sus passos por la
carrera, y toda la gente que lo
miraba á reirse de su osadía; pero
como los cuatro passaron tan
adelante, y los ojos de todos iban
tras ellos, Sildeo pudo correr á
sus anchuras sin ser más mirado
ni reído. Que cosa fué ver á Folco
del primer vuelo tan aventajado,
que á la mitad de la carrera todos
juzgaron el puñal por suyo; pero
Fronimo, corrido, criando alas de
su afrenta, con dos cuerpos se le
puso delante. Uranio iba tras
Folco, y Tirseo tras Uranio,
cuando Fronimo, vanaglorioso de
su ventaja y codicioso de la
vitoria, ó tropezó en la tierra ó en
sus piernas, que súbito pareció
tendido en la carrera, y Folco
sobre él, que no pudo apartase
sin caer. Uranio y Tirseo se vieron
señores del campo, y la grita y
ruido de la gente, que les debiera
animar, parece que los desalentó,
de modo que los dos caídos,
levantándose, y ellos dos
entorpeciéndose, todos cuatro
llegaron casi juntos á los premios,
y todos cuatro, despreciándose
del rabel, passaron al zurrón, y
desde allí al espejo, y adelante al
puñal, que en un instante
alargaron los brazos á tomarle.
Bien se contentara Sildeo (que
tras ellos iba) con el rabel, pero
viéndolos que, asidos del puñal,
reciamente porfiaban, passó
hasta el espejo y tomóle, y baxó
al zurrón y púsosele al cuello y
desde allí al rabel, y pudo hacerlo
porque el concierto era que,
comenzando de premio mayor,
pudiessen de allí tomar los
menores que hallasen. Sildeo,
risueño y gritado de la gente,
enderezó los passos á Sileno, y
los cuatro pastores asidos de su
puñal, cuál por la vaina, cuál por
el puño y cuáles por los correas,
hicieron lo mismo. No pudo
Uranio (aunque quisiera)
desnudar el cuchillo, porque tenía
un secreto que le cerraba; pero
Sileno, presto en atajar su
contienda, tomó á su cargo el
puñal y dióle á Sildeo para que él
le diesse á quien le agradasse.
Discreto y gracioso era Sildeo, y
como se vió hecho juez de todo,
les dixo desta manera: Estos
premios se pusieron para el
corredor que primero los viesse
en su poder; yo los veo en el mío
sin que nadie me tocasse á los
tres en la carrera, y sin que
ninguno de vosotros haya tenido
el cuarto libremente como yo, y
assí, por derecho y condición son
todos los cuatro míos, y así lo
juzgo. No solos los amigos de
Sildeo rieron de la graciosa
sentencia, pero á los mismos
pretensores hizo mucho donaire,
y Sileno la confirmó como bien
dada, y mandó á Valleto, zagal
suyo, que diesse á los cuatro
pastores, el siguiente día, cada
dos gruesos carneros de los
mejores del rebaño, con que
quedaron los circunstantes muy
contentos y los pastores muy
pagados.
Y mientras muchos se estaban
culpando de no haber tenido el
aviso de Sildeo, Delio, Lidonio y
Florino pidieron lugar para los
saltos, y Elpino, Bruno y Silveo
para la barra, y aunque quisiera
Sileno dársele, viendo que del día
estaba gastada la mayor parte, y
aquellos ejercicios (aunque de
mucha estima) no eran de tanta
recreación, acordó que se
ingeniasen en pruebas de fuerza
y ligereza, cada cual como
supiesse ó bastasse, prometiendo
á todos dignos premios de su
exercicio. Prueba haré yo, dixo
Bruno, que no la hará otro pastor
de la ribera. Hazla, dixo Elpino;
veamos dónde llega tu soberbia.
Agora lo veréis, dixo Bruno, y
haciéndose atar por las muñecas
con dos cuerdas de torcido
cáñamo dió el un cabo á Elpino y
el otro á Silveo, y tomando en
cada mano una manzana, tirad,
les dixo, cada uno por su parte,
veréis si salgo con mi intención.
Con tanta fuerza tiraban los dos
pastores, que parecía quererle
abrir por los pechos; pero Bruno,
recogiendo sus fuerzas, haciendo
piernas, apretando los dientes, á
pesar de entrambos puso las
manzanas en la boca. No hubo
entre todos quien á otro tanto se
atreviesse. Pero Lidonio, que
deseaba mostrarse en algo aquel
día, viendo presente á la hermosa
Silvia (digo aquélla que á la ida
del valle toparon Alfeo y Finea
con la pastora Dinarda), alegre de
verla sin los dos competidores
Licio y Celio, le pidió licencia para
ejercitarse en su nombre, y ella,
que de nada tenia gusto, le dixo
que hiciese el suyo; esto tuvo
Lidonio por gran favor, y animado
con él, mientras que Delio y
Florino, haciendo vueltas galanas
y dificultosas por el suelo y por el
aire, entretenían la gente, envió
por perchas altas y delgadas á un
huerto suyo, que cerca del valle
estaba, y puesto en medio de la
gente, las afirmó en tierra
derechas sin hincarlas, y con
ambas manos, sin otra ayuda,
comenzó á subir por ellas con
grande facilidad, hasta poner los
brazos sobre lo alto, y
arrimándolas al cuerpo sin otra
ligadura, ni afirmar los pies en
nada, se comenzó á pasear por
entre los que le miraban, y
después de ser bien visto, se
dexó deslizar por ellas hasta el
suelo. Prueba fué que agradó y
admiró á todos en general.
Mas viendo que el luchador
Pradelio tomaba el puesto para
hacer nueva prueba, todos
volvieron á él atentamente, y el
mancebo gentil, tendiéndose en
tierra de espaldas, los brazos
abiertos, sobre la una mano se
puso un pastor de pies y sobre la
otra otro, asiéndose los dos de las
manos para afirmarse. Pradelio
levantó en alto los brazos con
ellos y estuvo assí un rato, y
luego se sentó en tierra con la
misma carga, tras lo cual se
levantó en pie, y trayendo á los
pastores tres ó cuatro vueltas en
el aire, se fué sentando y
tendiendo y baxando los brazos
hasta dexarlos donde los había
tomado. ¡Oh, cómo fué prueba
esta del esfuezo y maña de
Pradelio y cómo contentó á todos
los pastores y pastoras que la
vieron! El gusto de Filena para
después se quede, y aun las
pruebas por ahora, porque Sileno
bien siente que no es razón de
exercitarse tanto con tanta fatiga,
y así, premiando á todos con
mucha voluntad y franqueza,
mandó tornar á componer las
rústicas mesas con regaladas
viandas, de donde brevemente
todos se levantaron, y siguiendo á
Sileno, Galafrón y Barcino, Mireno
y Liardo y el rabadán Alfesibeo
enderezaron á la devota pirámide;
y allí Galafrón, tierno y verdadero
amante de la difunta Elisa, la una
rodilla en tierra, al son de la flauta
de Barcino, que de la misma arte
la tocaba, cantó estos versos
tristes y amorosos:

GALAFRÓN
Elisa, que un tiempo fuiste
descanso de los enojos
con sólo volver los ojos
á los que en llanto volviste,
la furia perpetua y triste
de nuestras continuas quexas
no es tanto porque nos dexas
como por ver que te fuiste.
Porque, Elisa, aunque
dexarnos
sea lo mismo que irte,
sintiendo el mal de partirte
no se entiende el de
quedarnos;
y sólo en representarnos
la memoria que te has ido,
no queda libre el sentido
para de otro mal quexarnos.
Mas, dime: ¿en prisión tan
grave
por qué nos dexas con ceño,
como cautivos sin dueño,
donde esperanza no cabe?
¿qué nueva vendrá suave
á nuestra prisión y pena,
si, cerrada la cadena,
el cielo rompe la llave?
Algún alivio tenemos
en ausencia tan amarga,
y es que no puede ser larga,
aunque ya larga la vemos;
otra rienda hallaremos
que más enfrene al tormento,
y es que vives en contento
ya que nosotros penemos.
Tengo aquí, pastora cara,
una canción que decías,
con cuyos versos cubrías
de mis lágrimas mi cara,
y aunque de dulzura avara
y más que la muerte fiera,
si yo agora te la oyera
bien piadosa la juzgara.
De suerte nos igualaste,
que contra el competidor
nuestra venganza mayor
era ver que le miraste:
bien seguros nos dexaste
de memorias de contento,
porque aun de darnos
tormento,
señora, no te preciaste.
Por nuestra afición abrojos
nos diste, en lugar de palma,
y nunca sintió tu alma
lo que hicieron tus ojos;
nuestros más ricos despojos
llevaste sin pretendellos,
y este es el mal, que, á
querellos,
gloria fueran los enojos.
Baxe ya tu luz preciosa
del alto cielo á la tierra,
y venga á hacernos guerra
si no quisiere piadosa,
por el mármol do reposa
tu ceniza sepultada,
que de mi diestra cuitada
fué pruebecilla amorosa.
Vaya lexos la alegría
de nuestro monte y ribera,
cuanto se teme y se espera
pare en la ventura mía;
fálteme el postrero día
una común sepultura,
que si yo busqué ventura,
por ti sola la quería.
Húyame el contentamiento,
nada me preste favor,
conviértaseme en dolor
cualquier causa de contento,
déme el cielo sólo aliento
para conocer mi mengua,
no quiera llegar la lengua
 do no alcanza el sentimiento.
Bien puede, Elisa, subir
atrás el corriente río,
y el más importuno frío
nuevas flores producir;
mas no podrán permitir
tiempo, fortuna ó estrella
que cesse nuestra querella
hasta que cesse el vivir.

En tanto que Galafrón cantaba

desta suerte, muchas de las
pastoras habían traído blancos
tabaques de hierbas y rosas de la
florestas y en un punto, sobre sus
luengos cabellos poniendo
artificiosas guirnaldas, alrededor
de la alta pira, presas por las
manos sus anchas mangas, de
blanco lienzo colgando, mientras
cantaban, iban en sossegado
corro, y acabado el cantar, vueltas
las unas á las otras con gran
donaire bailaban. Ya en esto, el
gran planeta parecía, que,
agradecido de la solene fiesta,
quería dejar libre sombra para
que los pastores buscassen sus
moradas, y al trasponer del
monte, su rostro alegre y bello
(recogiendo la lumbre de sus
rayos) desde el Ocaso arrojó una
viva y templada claridad, que,
bordando de fina plata y luciente
oro las varias nubes, dejó nuestro
cielo hermosíssimo. Y luego las
pastoras, trocando las guirnaldas
de sus frentes con las que en el
sepulcro estaban, y los pastores
ramos con ramos, todos juntos
comenzaron á seguir al viejo
Sileno hasta la salida del valle,
que allí con alegre rostro y dulces
abrazos se despidió (uno por uno)
de todos, y dejando con él sus
cuatro pastores y el rabadán
Alfesibeo, se comenzaron por las
sendas y caminos á dividir desde
la verde floresta.
 TERCERA PARTE
DEL PASTOR DE FILIDA

Alegremente vinieron nuestros

pastores al fresco valle de la
celebrada Elisa, y no menos se
dividieron al salir dél, porque no
quedó senda, atajo ni camino
donde no sonassen voces
acordadas, liras, rabeles, flautas y
otros alegres instrumentos; solos
Finea y Alfeo, como solos
entraron por la vereda de los
salces, camino poco usado, por
ser áspero y estrecho, al principio
dél dixo Finea: ¿Qué te ha
parecido, Alfeo, de los pastores
del Tajo? Tan bien, dixo Alfeo, que
no te lo sabré decir: su gala es
mucha; discreción y cortesía,
grande, y lo que es habilidad y
mesura, aventajado á cuanto he
visto. Paréceme que de España lo
mejor se recoge en estas selvas.
Esso puedes creer, dixo Finea,
que aunque lo natural dellas es
bueno, todos essos ricos pastores
que hoy has visto y essas
pastoras de tanta gracia y
hermosura, cuál es del Ebro, cuál
del Tormes, Pisuerga, Henares,
Guadiana, y algunos de donde,
mudando nuestro Tajo el nombre,
se llama Tejo; pero como el sitio
es tan acomodado á la crianza de
los ganados, á la labor de la tierra
y á la recreación de la gente,
muchos que aquí vienen por
poco, se quedan por mucho,
como á mí me ha sucedido y á ti
creo que será otro tanto. No hará,
pastora, dixo Alfeo, que aunque
entiendo que no me estaba mal,
véome impossibilitado para ello.
¿Qué podría yo hacer aquí, ó en
qué entretendría el tiempo que no
pareciesse feo á todos? Yo te lo
diré, dixo Finea: lo que yo hago, ó
lo que hace Siralvo, forastero
pastor que aqui habita. Yo compré
ovejas y cabras conforme á mi
poco caudal, y con pocos zagales
las apaciento. Siralvo, aunque
pudo hacer otro tanto, gustó de
entrar á soldada con el rabadán
Mendino, por poder mudar lugar
cuando gusto ó comodidad le
viniesse, sin tener cosa que se lo
estorbasse. ¿Quién es esse
Siralvo? dixo Alfeo. Es un noble
pastor, dixo Finea, de tu misma
edad, honesto y de llaníssimo
trato: amado generalmente de los
pastores y pastoras de más y
menos suerte, aunque hasta
agora no se sabe de las suya más
de lo que muestran sus respetos,
que son buenos, y sus exercicios,
de mucha virtud. ¿Cómo vería yo
á Siralvo? dixo Alfeo. Bien
fácilmente, dixo Finea; porque las
cabañas de Mendino están muy
cerca de aquí, y Siralvo por
maravilla sale dellas, y más agora
que está su radabán ausente y él
no podrá apartarse del ganado.
Assí hayas ventura, dixo Alfeo,
que vamos allá. Vamos, pastor,
dixo Finea; y volviendo el camino
sobre la mano derecha, mientras
Alfeo, agradeciendo á la serrana
su voluntad y trabajo, ella
nuevamente con amor se le
ofrecia, llegaron á la fuente de
Mendino, que poca distancia de
las cabañas estaba, y á un lado
della, cerca del arroyo, oyeron
una flauta, que al son del agua y
de los inquietos árboles
acordadamente sonaba. Aquella
flauta, dixo Finea, es de Siralvo,
y si él canta, á buen tiempo
hemos venido, que no es menos
músico el pastor que enamorado,
aunque él, no preciado desto,
siempre busca la soledad para
cantar sus versos. Oyámosle,
dixo Alfeo, que no es possible que
el aparejo tan conforme á su
condición no le incite. Y con esto,
sentándose los dos junto á la
fuente casi á un punto, Siralvo,
dejando la zampoña, comenzó á
cantar aquestas rimas:

SIRALVO
Ojos á gloria de mis ojos
hechos,
beldad inmensa en ojos
abreviada,
rayos que heláis los más
ardientes pechos,
hielos que derretís la nieve
helada,
mares mansos de amor,
bravos estrechos,
amigos, enemigos en celada,
volveos á mí, pues sólo con
mirarme
podéis verme y oirme y
ayudarme.
Si me miráis, veréis en mí,
primero,
cuanto con Vos Amor hace y
deshace;
si me escucháis, oiréis decir
que muero,
y que es la vida que me
satisface;
si me ayudáis, lo que pretendo
y quiero,
que es alabaros, fácil se me
hace;
en tan altas empressas
alumbradme,
mis ojos, vedme, oídme y
ayudadme.
Siendo verdad que el alma
que me ampara
es sólo un rayo dessa luz
pendiente,
cuando no me miráis, es cosa
clara
que estoy del alma con que
vivo ausente;
mas no tan presto á la
marchita cara
vuelve la vuestra, soles de mi
oriente,
cuando, el espíritu mío
renovado,
quedo vivo, contento y
mejorado.
La causa fuistes de mi
devaneo,
y podéis serlo de mi buena
andanza,
que si á vuestra beldad cansa
el deseo,
vuestra color ofrece la
esperanza,
esmeraldas preciosas, donde
veo
más perfeción que el ser
humano alcanza,
viva mi alma entre essas dos
serenas
lumbres divinas, de vitorias
llenas.
¡Cuánto mejor en vuestra
compañía
que con la lira ó con el tierno
canto,
pudiera Orfeo, el malhadado
día,
robar la esposa al reino del
quebranto!
pues la amorosa ardiente
ánima mía,
al resplandor de vuestro viso
santo
suspende tantas penas
infernales,
Ojos verdes, rasgados,
celestiales.
¿Sois celestiales, soberanos
ojos?
Si que lo sois, aunque os
alberga el suelo,
pues solas almas son vuestros
despojos,
almas que os buscan como á
propio cielo;
fundó el Amor sus gustos, sus
enojos,
estableció su pena y su
consuelo,
dejó las armas frágiles de
tierra,
y escogió vuestra luz en paz y
en guerra.
Estrellas, nortes, soles, que
á la diestra
del Sol salís, por soles
verdaderos,
si en cuanto el lugar cielo al
mundo muestra,
no hay cosa que merezca
pareceros,
¿quién verá sola una pestaña
vuestra
que presuma, aun con muerte,
mereceros?
Bástale á aquel que os ve, si
os conociere,
morir, y ver que por miraros
muere.
Pues los que os miran
quedan condenados
á arder de amores si miráis
piadosos
y á rabia eterna si volvéis
airados,
ved si los que abrasáis son
venturosos;
yo que con pensamientos
inflamados,
Ojos, os miro, y con deseos
rabiosos,
ó rabie, ó arda, ó muera, ó
viva, al menos
no dejéis de mirarme, Ojos
serenos.
Al revolver de vuestra luz
serena,
se alegran monte y valle, llano
y cumbre;
la triste noche de tinieblas
llena,
halla su día en vuestra clara
lumbre,
sois, Ojos, vida y muerte,
gloria y pena;
el bien es natural; el mal,
costumbre:
no más, Ojos, no más, que es