Until the Day Breaks (California Rising Book 1)

by Paula Scott

  He glanced at Steven riding beside him so confident in his God this morning as they hunted for the bear. Dominic rode on his other side—the ship captain with fists of stone, a man strangely terrified of bears. Roman marveled at these new friends. He truly enjoyed their company, and last night at dinner he and Dominic had discussed Yerba Buena for quite some time, agreeing San Francisco Bay was the best harbor in the world. Certainly, there would come a day when the world discovered this magnificent harbor, and the little village of Yerba Buena would explode into a booming trade center.

  They searched half the day for the bear. Spring was giving way to summer. Today was one of California’s perfect days—sunny skies, comfortable temperatures, a sky so blue and fair it hurt his eyes to really look at it. Roman could see for miles and felt like riding that far to get away from Rachel. She was driving him half mad with desire, and all her religion was weighing on him too. At the strangest moments he’d find himself thinking about Rachel and suddenly his thoughts would turn to God. In the early days with her, he found her devotion to religion disconcerting. Now it intrigued him. To her, Jesus was real and alive and her whole life came under the guidance of God. Either she was crazy or she was right about Jesus Christ. Roman didn’t think she was crazy.

  One of his vaqueros had been following the bear’s trail. The rest of them followed the vaquero, an Indian tracker very skilled in hunting bears. The bear had come back for the calf, and here and there blood littered the path the bear had taken. By the time they found the bear in a clearing in a wooded canyon, the afternoon sun shone directly down on their heads. The massive bear stood up on his hind legs when he spotted the horsemen approaching. He was a full-grown male grizzly, standing at least nine feet tall. Bears would often flee when they spotted men on horses, but this bear roared his fury.

  The bear dropped down onto all fours and turned in circles as the men surrounded it on their horses in the clearing.

  Roman and his vaqueros galloped their horses in a loop around the grizzly. Steven went after them, leaving Dominic no choice but to do the same. Roman whirled his riata over his head. The vaqueros whirled their riatas too as they circled the bear on their well-trained mustangs.

  Before anyone could throw a rope, the bear charged Dominic’s horse. Dominic’s horse, not trained like Rancho de los Robles mustangs to face bears, bolted sideways. Unprepared for the horse’s terror, Dominic pitched from the saddle, landing on the ground with the bear barreling toward him. His horse bolted away, empty stirrups flapping against its sweaty flanks.

  Roman spurred his horse over to Dominic. He knew even if he roped the bear now, the grizzly would have Dominic in his jaws before he and his vaqueros could drag the bear away. He dropped his riata and drew his long lance.

  In a feat of horsemanship, Roman swept alongside the charging grizzly, burying his long lance between the bear’s rolling shoulder blades.

  The grizzly roared in pain, spinning in a circle just feet away from Dominic, who was on his knees facing the bear, a look of horror on his face.

  Four vaqueros threw their ropes. Every riata settled around the wounded bear’s neck.

  The grizzly roared and lunged at the mounted vaqueros. The palominos backed up swiftly, tightening the rawhide ropes in all directions, immobilizing the infuriated bear.

  Roman rode up to Dominic and reached for his hand, commanding Dom to place his foot in the stirrup Roman vacated for him. With Dominic’s boot firmly in his stirrup, Roman yanked his friend up behind him in the saddle and rode a safe distance away from the captured grizzly.

  Steven went after Dominic’s horse. By the time he returned, leading the fancy bay gelding Dominic had purchased in Yerba Buena, the bear was dead, and Dominic was helping Roman and the vaqueros remove the riatas from the beast’s bloody neck. Roman’s lance remained buried between the bear’s great shoulders.

  Steven dismounted his horse. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed such a thing possible. Roman, you are a warrior!”

  Roman smiled. “This was a bad bear. It is good that he is dead.”

  “I would like to have the hide.” Dominic stared in wonder at the dead bear. “That thing almost had my hide.”

  “The hide is yours, amigo.” Roman patted Dom’s shoulder. “Next time, you can kill the bear.”

  Dominic turned and wrapped Roman in an exuberant embrace. “There will be no next time. I will never hunt another bear. Thank you for saving my life, my friend!”

  “You are welcome.” Roman smiled even wider.

  “I spent a fortune on a horse that nearly killed me.” Dominic motioned to the mount Steven held.

  Roman smacked Dom on the back. “Your mount is poorly trained. Rancho de los Robles’s horses are not afraid of bears. I will give you a fine stallion that will not feed you to a bear in California.”

  “You should have seen your face, Dom. Your eyes about bugged out of your head when that grizzly came after you.” Steven began laughing and couldn’t stop.

  “I may have soiled myself,” Dominic admitted, laughing along with Steven.

  “A man of honor does not lose his bowels, even in death,” Roman announced and then laughed too.

  The vaqueros, skinning the bear, grinned and nodded their agreement.

  “You Spaniards may not lose your bowels when a bear tries to kill you, but this Yankee may have to change his britches. I have never faced a grizzly on my knees before. I’ve never been that scared in my life. Even great storms at sea seem tame in comparison.”

  With the vaqueros laughing now, Dominic pulled out his knife to help them skin the bear. Like his fancy horse, his knife looked pretty and sharp, but the blade didn’t work well on the thick bear hide.

  Roman handed Dominic his knife.

  “What will you do with your hide, Dom?” Steven asked.

  “I think I will build a fine mansion in Yerba Buena to house my bear hide. I will lay it on the floor in front of a roaring fire and let my children play there when they are babes.”

  “You will have a fire in your home?” Roman was curious. “Californian adobes do not have fires.” Though Roman had heard the Americanos built fireplaces in their California homes.

  “Yerba Buena feels like New England,” said Dominic. “The wind often rolls off the bay. It can be bitterly cold, even in summer there. I will need a fireplace in every room.”

  “I will come visit you in Yerba Buena. I want to see how a man burns a fire in his hacienda. I have never seen this done before.” Roman smiled, feeling grateful the bear had not killed any of them. And there was no going back now. Dom and Steven had become his brothers. They were bonded to him by the blood of the bear.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Rachel looked up from her sewing as a servant came and whispered in Tia Josefa’s ear. “Señoritas, keep sewing,” Tia Josefa instructed Isabella, Maria, and Rachel where they sat in the sala. “We have visitors.”

  “Who, Mama?” Isabella wanted to know.

  “You may come along with me and see.” Tia Josefa’s smile was indulgent.

  “I am tired of sewing,” Maria announced.

  “What have you sewn?” Tia Josefa did not look pleased.

  Maria held up a cloth containing crooked stitches.

  “Keep sewing,” Tia Josefa commanded. “You must master this woman’s art before you become the wife of some poor man.”

  “I do not want to be a wife. I want to travel to Spain, to New York, to the Orient.”

  Tia Josefa grew stern with Maria. “You will become a wife here in California, and you will know how to sew by then, Maria Domitilla Flores Vasquez.”

  Maria tossed down her sewing cloth in disgust. “Why is the little goat allowed to greet our guests with you, and I am not?”

  “Mama, she called me a goat again.”

  Tia Josefa threw up her hands in front of Isabella and Maria. “You girls are as spoiled as last year’s eggs. Look at Señorita Rachel, how beautifully she sew
s, how gentle and quiet she is with everyone. This is how a well-bred lady behaves.” Tia Josefa gave Rachel an encouraging smile.

  Rachel continued her sewing.

  “I don’t want to be a well-bred lady,” Maria said.

  “Me neither,” Isabella agreed.

  “Maria, sew! Isabella, come with me. Our guests have arrived by now.”

  Isabella gave Maria a triumphant look and then scampered after her mother exiting the sala.

  “Tio and Tia spoil that child because she’s adopted,” Maria said. “Tell me what America is like.” The redhead tossed her sewing cloth aside and focused her attention on Rachel. “Are the cities very grand?”

  “I only know New England.” Rachel concentrated on sewing.

  “Tell me about Boston. Is it a large city?”

  “The only time I’ve been to Boston was to sail here to California.”

  “You did not see how the women dress there?”

  Rachel’s cheeks grew warm. “I can’t remember, really.”

  “How can you not remember a city’s dresses?”

  Rachel kept stitching. “I was only there a day and a night waiting for the ship to depart. I guess they dress like other women dress these days.”

  “Was the harbor filled with ships from around the world?” Excitement filled Maria’s voice.

  “There were many ships. The world is a wide and dangerous place, especially for a beautiful young woman without the chaperone of a husband or father.”

  Maria grinned, causing a dimple to appear in one cheek. She was an absolutely beautiful girl when she smiled that way. “I am ready for a wide and dangerous world.”

  “Months on the ocean is not a pleasant experience. One can become very sick. And people die all the time on these long voyages.”

  “I will not become sick.” Maria jumped to her feet. She pulled up her skirts, revealing slender, black-stockinged ankles and calves. “I know I have sea legs. If I were a man, I would join the crew of a Yankee clipper ship so I could sail around the world.”

  “You do not want to marry?” Rachel laid aside her sewing, giving Maria her full attention.

  “If I were to marry, a man would become my master. I do not want a master. I want to be free to do as I choose.”

  Rachel stretched in her seat, her muscles tight after hours of sitting there on the couch. “And what of God’s choosing?”

  “What of God’s choosing?” Maria sat down, arranging her skirts to cover her shapely limbs. “God does not want me trapped here in this hacienda forever.”

  Rachel captured Maria’s hands. “You live in a beautiful house with a beautiful family.”

  “I am tired of my family. You’ve sailed across an ocean. You’ve been in a man’s arms. I want to experience this too.”

  Rachel’s cheeks grew warm. She didn’t know what to say.

  Maria laughed at her blush. “Has my brother welcomed you to his bed? Has he made you his woman yet?”

  “No,” Rachel said sharply.

  Maria clucked her tongue. “Too bad. I have heard he is a very skillful lover.”

  Isabella raced into the room. “Sarita is here! Mama says she will live with us now that her Yanquio husband has joined the rebels in the north!”

  Maria’s green eyes narrowed on Rachel. “You should ask Sarita about Roman’s skillfulness. She knows my brother well.”

  “What are you talking about?” Isabella demanded. “Have you been telling Rachel lies about Roman?”

  “They are not lies. I don’t want her surprised when our cousin fawns all over our brother when he returns from the fields tonight.”

  “Sarita will be fat one day. Wait and see. She is lazy and—”

  “Stop,” Rachel said with her heart in her throat. “Do not speak of such things.”

  “See, little goat, you have upset Rachel.”

  “You upset her!” Isabella cried.

  Maria stood up. “I am done sewing. It bores me to death. The Yankees are coming. I will sail away with one of these tall, handsome Americanos on a ship someday. Just watch and see.”

  “Like Captain Mason?” Isabella baited.

  “Captain Mason is a beast.”

  “Roman no longer thinks so. Did you see him talking with the captain last night? They went on and on about Yerba Buena becoming a great city someday. They are becoming fast friends. I have never seen Roman like this. He enjoys having the Americanos here.” Isabella said.

  “I would not forgive Captain Mason if I were Roman. I do not forgive Captain Mason.”

  Isabella laughed. “You attacked the poor captain. What did you expect him to do? Waltz with you while you scratched his eyes out?”

  “He threw me on the floor. His blood ruined my dress.”

  “I thought you liked him. He is so handsome. I know you want to kiss him.” Isabella smooched her lips.

  “He is not so handsome with bruises on his face.”

  Isabella threw up her hands. “Captain Mason is the most handsome blue-eyed man ever to come to California. Is he not the most handsome blue-eyed man ever?” she asked Rachel.

  Rachel didn’t respond. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Maria said about Sarita and Roman together.

  Maria straightened the bodice of her dress and pushed her long, red hair off her shoulders. She was slender but so shapely, and her hair was really something. Everything about her was lush. Her lips, her hair, her figure. Rachel could see how Captain Mason couldn’t take his eyes off the girl.

  “Captain Mason is a brute,” said Maria.

  “I think you liked rolling on the floor with the captain,” Isabella teased.

  “Watch yourself, little goat. I will throw you on the floor and ruin your dress with your blood.”

  “You are sisters. You should treat each other more kindly.” Rachel stood up to leave the room.

  “She is not really my sister,” Maria announced. “Izzy is my cousin.”

  “I am not even really your cousin. My father was Russian. My mother a beautiful octoroon.”

  “An octopus,” Maria said, laughing.

  “Octoroon,” Isabella insisted. “Do you know what that is?” she asked Rachel without giving her time to answer. “My mother was mostly Spanish with some Indian blood in her veins.”

  “Mostly Indian with some Spanish blood in her veins,” Maria corrected.

  “How do you know?” Isabella grew angry.

  “Look at your skin. Is it white like Rachel’s? Golden like mine? No, you are brown as a little chicken egg and you have the hair of an Indian, straight and thick and black as night.”

  Isabella yanked up her skirt to reveal bare brown feet and much paler legs. “My legs are not so brown,” she cried. “The sun makes me brown.”

  Rachel went to Isabella. “You are a lovely girl, made in God’s image,” she said, smoothing Isabella’s skirts down.

  “Maria is mean!” Isabella cried.

  “You should tell your sister you are sorry,” Rachel told Maria.

  “I am sorry, little goat. You are not so brown.” Maria lightly yanked one of Isabella’s long black braids. “You are pretty with your blue eyes and dusky skin. The men will want you when you are older, little sister.” Maria hugged Isabella and then grew serious. “Do you know why Sarita has come here?” she turned to Rachel.

  Rachel shook her head. She really didn’t know.

  “Sarita is Tia Josefa’s niece. She is our cousin by marriage. She is also Roman’s former novia. She married your father because she thought Roman was dead. We all thought he’d been killed in Texas. I do not think Sarita’s feelings have changed. She has always loved my brother.”

  “She used to live with us.” Isabella added, wrinkling her nose. “When Mama found out Sarita and Roman were sneaking off together at night, she sent Sarita back to her brother. Sarita’s father is a weak-willed man. Instead of making Roman marry Sarita then and there like any good father would have, Mama’s brother allowed Roman to only become enga
ged to Sarita before he rode off to Texas.”

  “Sarita is a witch.” Maria shivered. “You must be careful around her, Rachel.”

  “Really, she is a witch!” Isabella agreed. “She worships Tohic, but Mama won’t believe it because Sarita lies about it. She says she is praying the rosary when she’s really praying to Tohic.” Isabella’s eyes widened with fear.

  With trembling hands, Rachel gathered up her sewing materials. “I am not afraid of witchcraft. God is in control.”

  “Sarita will cause trouble for you. Tia should not let her stay here,” said Maria.

  Holding her small wooden sewing chest in her arms, Rachel did her best to appear unaffected by this talk.

  “Where is your rosary?” Isabella asked Maria. “Let’s give our rosaries to Rachel.”

  Rachel did not try to talk the girls out of this practice. Like her father’s servant, Rosa, Isabella and Maria were Catholic. The beaded necklaces represented God’s protection to them. “I will place your rosaries beside my bed,” Rachel told them.

  “Under your pillow,” Isabella insisted.

  “Under my pillow,” Rachel agreed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Roman sent Dominic’s bear hide to the stables with the vaqueros. The hide would be cured by the Indians trained in tanning hides. Roman, Steven, and Dominic walked to the hacienda in high spirits, only to discover Sarita’s arrival an hour earlier had placed everyone in an uproar.

  Tio Pedro was threatening to ride north to kill Joshua Tyler. Pedro could not understand why Sarita’s husband would join the rebels in the Sacramento Valley when he was a Mexican citizen married to a Californian wife. Upon her arrival, Sarita had cried and carried on about being abandoned by her traitorous gringo husband.

  As soon as Roman arrived, she flew into his arms, pressing her ample curves against him even though he smelled like a dead bear. “My husband has left me! He has joined the rebels in the north,” she said, then fell into a fit of sobbing.