Until the Day Breaks (California Rising Book 1)

by Paula Scott

  “I keep having the same dream. A terrible dream about a man on a pale horse.”

  Steven was thoughtful for a moment. “Are you sure the horse is pale?”

  “I am certain it is pale.”

  Steven flipped through his Bible till he came to Revelation. He began to read, “I looked, and there before me was a pale horse. Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him.”

  They lay there silently for a long time, each praying fervently because of the unease they both felt. The morning sun finally began to push the fog back toward the ocean. Birds sang in the trees, and the fire crackled when Steven got up and tossed more wood upon it.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “No. Not at all.” She sat up in her bedroll, fully dressed, having chosen to sleep in her clothes for warmth as well as modesty. “I’m so troubled, Steven.”

  “Our Lord never said our lives on this earth would be easy. Jesus said he would be with us. That he would never forsake nor abandon us no matter what comes our way.”

  “What if death comes our way?”

  “Then we will see our Lord face-to-face,” Steven replied confidently. “Death is but a doorway into the presence of God. We are not to fear death, Rachel. The apostle Paul said, ‘To live is Christ, and to die is gain.’”

  She stood and shook out her skirts. “You are right. I should not fear death.”

  “I will pray this dream troubles you no more. We should be on our way to Yerba Buena soon.” Steven began packing up the camp.

  “Is the ocean beautiful there?” Rachel walked toward the trees for some private time.

  “Magnificent,” Steven called. “Blue as your eyes, Rachel.”

  Smiling, Rachel disappeared into the woods.

  Steven rolled up their bedrolls and tied them to the back of their saddles. He wasn’t hungry either, so he saddled the horses and packed all their goods upon them. Then he kicked dirt on the fire until it smoldered down to nothing but smoke.

  It was this smoke drifting up into the sky that led Lopez right to them.

  Steven was helping Rachel into the saddle when he galloped into the clearing. Lopez swung his riata around his head. As he raced into their midst on his big albino stallion, he threw the rope. It snaked around Steven’s upper body, settling around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides.

  Lopez jerked the rope tight, yanking Steven off his feet.

  He hit the ground with a sickening thud and was then dragged through the camp by the triumphant Lopez.

  Rachel screamed as Lopez laughed like a madman. Steven never made a sound as he was dragged behind the pale horse.

  Lopez leaped to the ground and swiftly tied Steven to a tree. Steven bled badly from a cut on his forehead. Bruises soon formed on his face and neck and arms.

  Rachel jumped from her horse and tried to help Steven. When she reached the tree with Steven there on his knees, Lopez backhanded her across the cheek.

  She sprawled in the dirt and then crawled on hands and knees back to Steven. He was tied to the tree now, a disorientated look upon his battered face.

  Lopez kicked Rachel away from him. She cried out in pain.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Steven begged.

  Lopez kicked Rachel again, not hard, but hard enough to knock her onto her back in the dirt. He then walked over and yanked her to her feet.

  Rachel had braided her hair in a single plait down her back. Lopez grabbed hold of the braid and yanked the leather binding off the end, then shook her hair free. “I have found gold,” he exclaimed, a wild look in his wicked eyes.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Steven pleaded once more.

  Lopez dragged Rachel by her hair over to Steven. “The golden woman is mine now,” he sneered, and then kicked Steven in the stomach.

  Steven grunted in pain.

  Several more times, Lopez kicked Steven in the midsection until Steven’s head hung low and he no longer responded to the beating.

  “Please,” Rachel cried. “Please don’t hurt him anymore.”

  “Don’t hurt him,” Lopez mocked her. Still holding her by the hair, he shook her roughly and then yanked her head back to breathe his hot, foul breath on her face.

  Swinging an arm with all her might, Rachel managed to punch him in the mouth.

  He growled in fury and threw her to the ground. “You will pay for drawing that blood, little gringa!” He wiped his split lip across his sleeve, viciously kicking her in the hip.

  She rolled and whimpered, desperately trying to crawl away from him.

  Smiling, his crooked yellow teeth covered in blood, Lopez stalked her. Grabbing her hair, he jerked her back on to her feet.

  He carried her over to the horses. Pulling a rope from Steven’s horse, he used it to bind Rachel to the saddle after he’d tossed her up onto the palomino mare she’d ridden since leaving the rancho.

  Rachel wept as Lopez walked back to Steven. The monstrous man stopped to retrieve another riata from his horse before going to the tree where Steven was tied.

  Approaching hoof beats caused Lopez to dive into the trees. When Roman rode into the clearing, Lopez roped him just as he had Steven. Rachel screamed his name as he was yanked off his horse. Seeing him filled her with shock and then soaring hope. She couldn’t believe Roman was really here. Love for him overwhelmed her.

  Lopez stepped from the trees. The horses Roman had been leading raced away. The horse Roman rode galloped off as well, causing Rachel’s mare to bolt after them.

  Lopez let out a string of curses as Rachel, screaming for Roman, was carried away with the runaway horses.

  # # #

  Steven’s horse, tied to a tree limb by its reins, went wild when the other horses bolted away. Rearing back, it broke free from the tree, and then raced after the other horses. Lopez’s big pale horse remained where Lopez had left it, though the stallion pawed the dirt and whinnied repeatedly after the departing animals.

  Lopez ran to his stallion, holding the end of the long rope that had captured Roman. Leaping into the saddle, he wrapped the end of his riata around the saddle horn.

  Roman was up on his feet now. Still wrapped in the riata, he ran after Lopez, but the pale horse sprang forward under Lopez’s spurs, yanking Roman off his feet again.

  Lopez galloped his horse around the clearing, dragging Roman behind him. Roman kicked wildly to free himself from the rope, but to no avail.

  Lopez dragged Roman until he stopped fighting.

  Roman was bruised and bleeding when Lopez stopped at the tree where Steven was tied.

  Leaping off his pale horse and laughing in glee, Lopez hauled Roman over to the tree next to Steven’s and swiftly bound Roman there.

  Steven was bleeding badly from his mouth and forehead. He looked at Roman with grieving eyes while Lopez bound Roman beside him.

  “Which one of you shall die?” Lopez asked, pulling his dagger from his belt with a wide smile. “I am in a generous mood. I will let one of you live to play with the wolves tonight.”

  Steven coughed, spitting blood from his lips. “Kill me,” he told Lopez. Steven turned to Roman, his gaze piercing Roman’s soul for a moment that lasted a lifetime. “Trust your life to Jesus, amigo.”

  “No! Don’t kill him,” Roman begged.

  Grinning, Lopez sliced Steven’s cheek open.

  With great calmness and courage, Steven looked steadily into Lopez’s hate-filled eyes. “I forgive you,” he told Lopez. “You don’t know what you’re doing, but I forgive you.”

  With a growl, Lopez plunged his knife deep into Steven’s stomach.

  “Lord Jesus!” Steven cried out.

  “NO!” Roman screamed in agony.

  Growling like an enraged animal, Lopez sawed the knife down, cutting Steven’s insides out.

  Steven died very quickly.

  Bloody knife in hand, Lopez stepped over to Roman. “Your friend died a strange death.” Lopez appeared shaken. He took several deep breaths as if trying
to regain his composure.

  Roman bit back his grief as rage rose up in him. “You have killed a man of God.”

  Lopez ignored this. “Do you love the little golden gringa?” He leered into Roman’s face.

  Roman gritted his teeth to keep from saying anything Lopez might enjoy.

  Lopez laughed wickedly. “Sarita tells me the Americana is a virgin. Is this true, amigo? You have kept this golden woman in your hacienda all these days without touching her? I find this hard to believe. Perhaps you are no longer the man you once were in Texas.”

  Roman strained against the rope binding him to the tree. “I will kill you,” he told Lopez. “If you touch her, I will skin the ugly hide off your body the way I skin cattle.”

  Lopez laughed again and raised his knife. “Speaking of skinning, I wonder how many ways I can slice you without killing you?”

  “Start slicing. The longer you remain here with me, the better.”

  The delight left Lopez’s face. “This is true. My golden woman is galloping away.”

  “Cut me!” Roman cried.

  Lopez sliced Roman’s arm open. “That should bring in the wolves but keep you alive long enough to entertain my pets when they come.”

  “I am hardly bleeding,” Roman taunted. “Perhaps you are not the man you once were in Texas. Surely, you can cut me better than this, Luis.”

  “So we are amigos again?” Lopez wiped the bloody knife on his pant leg before holstering it in his belt. “You use my name in such a friendly manner. How can I cut you now that you call me Luis? Like we are old friends again.”

  “Cut me!” Roman did his best to hold Lopez’s attention so Rachel could escape.

  Lopez shook his head. “My golden woman awaits me. I will cut her instead.” A wicked smile lit his face. “She will bleed her virgin blood so sweetly.”

  Roman went crazy, wrestling the rope that pinned him to the tree. “I will kill you,” he yelled as Lopez walked toward his albino horse. “Luis! I will kill you! I promise you will die!”

  After mounting up, Lopez saluted Roman. “Good-bye, amigo,” he called, spurring his pale horse out of the ravine.

  # # #

  Roman fought the rope until exhaustion set in. Looking over at Steven, a supernatural calm finally settled over him. “Did you really see Jesus before you died?”

  Steven’s body remained hanging limply against the tree.

  Roman felt light-headed from his own blood loss.

  “Trust your life to Jesus, amigo.” Steven’s words came back now more powerfully than when Steven spoke them when he was alive.

  “Jesus!” Roman cried, causing a flock of birds to burst out of the trees across the clearing. “Jesus!” he screamed again and again. Then, his throat raw from all his yelling, he finally bowed his head and began to weep.

  As he hung there, Roman recalled the scripture from the Bible out of Zechariah, the verse he’d read over and over while Rachel was sick with fever.

  During the night, I had a vision, and there before me was a man riding a red horse.

  He heard Rachel’s sweet, gentle voice telling him, “The man on the red horse is Jesus.”

  When Roman looked up, he saw Jesus on a red horse riding up the ravine. He must be dying with Jesus coming for him now.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Dominic couldn’t sleep aboard The White Swallow anchored in San Francisco Bay. His unrest was so great he left his bed and paced his cabin, then went up on deck and paced some more. No stars shone that night. The ship was engulfed in a cold, damp fog that enveloped everything. Why was he so disturbed this night?

  After several hours prowling his ship, he realized he kept thinking of Steven. Maybe God was trying to tell him Steven needed his help. He prayed for some time and felt even more strongly that Steven needed him.

  By dawn, Dominic knew he had to ride after his friend. Jamie rowed him to shore, and he went to the village stables and saddled his horse. He planned to take only the one horse, but that little voice inside persisted that he needed two horses.

  Maybe the Holy Spirit was trying to tell him Steven had lost his horse. Giving up on his human reasoning, Dominic trusted that persistent inner voice and bargained with the horse trader to buy another horse for his journey to Rancho de los Robles.

  He packed his bedroll and the food he would need to ride to the rancho in a hurry and left Yerba Buena on the same route he and Steven took on their previous trip there.

  Dominic arrived at the ravine two days later. He would not have ridden into the little canyon off the main road had he not heard a man yelling Jesus’ name.

  Such a strange thing to hear, someone hollering for the Savior that way. He urged his horse up the canyon until he saw two men tied to trees there. From a distance, both men appeared dead.

  His heart pounding, Dominic rode closer until recognition knocked the breath from him. “Roman, Steven!” He spurred his horse over to his friends and jumped off his mount.

  “You came.” Roman smiled at Dominic, tears coursing down his stubble-covered cheeks.

  Dominic fell to his knees in front of him. “What has happened?” He could see Steven was already dead.

  Roman came to his senses. “Luis Lopez killed him.”

  Roman was bleeding badly from his arm. Dominic took off his flannel shirt and ripped the sleeve from it, using it to bind Roman’s wound.

  “Jesus brought you here.” Roman’s voice was filled with awe and wonder.

  Dominic couldn’t speak, so great was his grief over Steven’s death.

  “Just before he died, Steven saw Jesus. I know he saw Jesus. I thought you were Jesus riding up on that red horse.”

  “You’re not going to die.” Dominic found his stern captain’s voice. He took out his knife and began cutting the rawhide rope that bound Roman to the tree. “Jesus isn’t coming for you yet, amigo. My horse isn’t red. It’s a sorrel.”

  “Dom.” Roman waited until Dominic looked him square in the eye. “Jesus was here. He came for Steven. I know Steven saw him.” Tears streamed down Roman’s bruised face.

  Dominic sat back on his heels.

  Roman took a shuddering breath, looking up into the sky. “Jesus died for me just like Steven died for me.”

  Tears rushed to Dominic’s eyes. He went back to sawing on the rope.

  “I believe,” Roman rasped. He returned his gaze to Dominic’s.

  “Tears rolled freely down Dominic’s cheeks now too. “Steven died so you could believe.” Dominic’s voice was hoarse with emotion.

  Roman closed his eyes. His shoulders shook with sobs, though the rope restrained him. When he finally got control, he said, “Lopez is after Rachel. We need to find her before he does.”

  Dominic sawed harder on the rope.

  When the rope finally burst loose, Roman pushed himself off the tree and nearly fell face down on the ground.

  Dominic caught him in his arms. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Are you sure you can ride?”

  “I can ride.” Roman got his bearings. “We will come back for Steven after we find Rachel.”

  Dominic swiftly unpacked the other horse and helped Roman into the saddle.

  He then mounted his own horse and pointed to the long gun tied to the side of his saddle. “I brought my rifle this time. I’m a crack shot, you know.”

  The two galloped out of the ravine, following the torn-up dirt trail the fleeing horses had made. Dominic kept an eye on Roman, but after watching him for a while, he decided the Spaniard rode better than he did even with a wounded arm and blood loss.

  They traveled south as sundown neared. It was obvious Rachel’s horse was headed home to Rancho de los Robles.

  # # #

  It was Rachel’s worst nightmare. In the distance, she could see the evil man on his pale horse. Roman must be dead if the man now pursued her.

  The wind whipped the tears off her face as the little mare she was tied to ran for all her worth on the same road she and Steven had take
n the day before. The mare was racing back to Rancho de los Robles, running like Rachel had never seen a horse run. If she hadn’t been bound to the saddle, she surely would have lost her seat miles ago.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the evil man gaining on her. The big albino stallion was finally overtaking her swift little mare.

  “Why have you forsaken me?” she cried into the wind. “I’ve lived my whole life for you, Lord! Why have you forsaken me!”

  Crying brokenly, Rachel could see the rider on the pale horse, so close now his leering grin was evident. Such an evil face, like looking into the eyes of the devil himself.

  She leaned over the mare’s sweat-soaked neck, the sound of the pale horse’s hooves pounding in her ears as her mare galloped into a meadow surrounded by trees.

  “Give it up, little gringa!” the evil man called out. “You are no match for me!”

  I am no match for him, Jesus. Rachel wept into the mare’s mane. Only you can save me. Only my God can save me now.

  A rifle shot rang out in the meadow.

  The evil man pitched from his saddle just as he reached out for Rachel’s horse. The mare was yanked to a halt by the sprawling outlaw. The barrel-chested man lay face down in the grass, his body restraining the rope attached to Rachel’s trembling mare.

  Rachel stared at the dead man in horror and wonder with the words of the Lord ringing inside her head. Deliverance belongs to the Lord.

  Two men emerged from the trees. One of the men ran toward Rachel. His white shirt was bloodstained. A piece of blue flannel bound one arm.

  “Roman!” Rachel cried when she recognized him.

  The second man wore a torn blue shirt and carried a long rifle, the setting sun gleaming off the gun barrel.

  Roman ran across the meadow to her, using his good arm to cut her loose with a knife before sweeping her off the lathered mare into his arms.

  He lowered his face to hers for a tender kiss. They did not part until Dominic cleared his throat.

  “What should we do with him?” Dominic pointed to the dead man.

  “Leave him,” said Roman. “We need to get back to Steven before the wolves find him.”