Catch Me in Castile

by Kimberley Troutte

  His gaze traveled across her curves. She didn’t look fragile. No, she looked good enough to eat. She lifted an eyebrow, shooting him a look loaded with hunger. Need coursed through his own veins. Her smile produced a punch of heat to his groin.

  Mierda, he was in trouble.

  “Buenos tardes. Did you have a nice rest?” He asked.

  “Yes, and, I um—” she moved closer, her cheeks flushed, “—need to apologize for earlier at the airport. I made a perfect ass of myself.”

  She came around the couch to sit and he noted how perfect her ass was. His gut twisted. “No apologies necessary.” He forced himself to study her clinically, searching for grounds to throw her out of the mansion. It didn’t take a Chief of Medicine to notice her pale skin and dark-rimmed eyes. “Are you feeling all right?”

  Her crooked smile told him she knew she was being examined. “Well, doctor, I’ve had better years.” Her laughter was husky and rich. “But I’m determined to get a life. No time like the present, right?”

  He was mesmerized by what sparked from her tired eyes. She was determined and more—she was courageous. Something horrible had happened to her. He could see she hadn’t slept well in days, maybe weeks, and yet she smiled. How had she accomplished that? He longed to dig deeper, to know her secrets. The muscles and nerves in his cheeks rarely turned upwards anymore. Laughter was a thing of the past.

  “Hey guys. Glad you two are getting to know each other,” Maria called from the hallway.

  He jumped to his feet and met his sister halfway across the room. “Wonderful to have you home, sis.”

  Maria hugged him. “I can’t tell you how it feels to be here. Staying for dinner?”

  He cast a look over his shoulder towards Erin, feeling the hunger rumble in his bones. He had to get away from her, fast. “No, I’m meeting Helena tonight.”

  “Helena?” Maria asked.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off Erin when he said, “She’s a volunteer at the hospital. A friend. We’re discussing an intern program over dinner.”

  “I see,” Maria said.

  “Nice to speak with you, Ms. Carter.” He willed his legs to walk him right out the door. Instead, he found himself standing before her, his hand outstretched. She rose and placed her hand in his. They didn’t shake. Instead, their eyes locked and he bent and placed a kiss on her cheek.

  “You too.” Her eyes were on his lips. “See you soon?”

  He was still holding her hand. No woman had captivated him so quickly, so completely. She was trouble. Big trouble. He had to get out of there. “Soon.”

  Finally, somehow, he made it to the front door.

  Maria’s voice carried all the way from the living room and bounced off the entry walls. “Surprise of surprises. My brother has a girlfriend. Hospital Helena. Great, huh?”

  “Um, yeah, great.” Erin’s voice floated to him like a breeze.

  Frowning, he turned the knob and left.

  “Um, yeah, great.” I didn’t add, For Helena.

  My heart was still beating too fast. I sat down before I fell down. My gosh, he kissed me. On the cheek, sure, but it was a kiss.

  “Maybe the planets have aligned or something.” Maria plopped on the couch next to me. “Hey, will my luck change too? Kind of a familial lucky streak?”

  “Looking for love, are we?”

  “Love? I’m talking about getting lucky. A hot Spanish hunk rolling around under my goose-down comforter? Yum, that’s what I’d call dessert.”

  “You go, girl.” I laughed. “What about commitment? Do you ever think about the long-term stuff?”

  “During sex?”

  “Ever?”

  “I did once…” She let the sentiment hang there a moment.

  “And?”

  “And hot sex is more fun to think about.”

  “Maria, está lista?” A voice called from the kitchen.

  “Come on, dinner’s ready. I’m starved.”

  I tagged along behind Maria, my hand to my cheek.

  We gorged on spicy vegetable soup, an almond-crusted calamari steak, and chicken breast swimming in a dark mole sauce. All of it to die for.

  After dinner we brought our dishes into the kitchen. Maria threw her arms around a short dark seventy-ish woman. “Thank you, Rosa. Everything was delicious. Dios mío, how I’ve missed your meals.”

  “De nada, mi amor.”

  “Erin, this is Rosa, the true woman of the house.”

  “Sí, Señorita Ereen, I is dat,” she said in her broken English. “I is de cooker, cleaner and peacekeeper. Lord knows what dey do widout ol’ Rosa.” She took our dishes and began hand washing them.

  “And you speak English. Here, let me help with those,” I offered.

  “She’s taking an online course,” Maria said.

  Rosa shook her head firmly. “No Señorita Ereen. I don’ need no help.”

  “Good try,” Maria said to me. “Rosa is queen of the kitchen. We just stay out of her way.” Maria scooted her rear up onto the kitchen counter and motioned for me to join her.

  “If I is de queen, dan why you no listen to me?” She pointed at Maria. “You knows, I no like when you sit up there.”

  “I knows it,” Maria teased.

  “So why you want my heart to a-stop wid worry?”

  “I always sit up here to listen to your stories.” Maria winked at me.

  Rosa muttered under her breath, but I could tell it was only a halfhearted protest. I had a sneaky suspicion she’d missed the bantering ritual with Maria.

  “Do yous want to hear about de time Santiago and Maria put de snake in me bed?”

  “Fun times, fun times,” Maria joked and a bemused smile softened Rosa’s wrinkled face.

  I laughed. “I want to hear it all.”

  Rosa recalled many funny stories in the Botello household, while careful not to reveal anything too personal about the people she worked for some thirty-odd years. The time flew by.

  “Okay, chicas,” Maria slid down off the counter. “Beddy-bye time.”

  “What’s dis? I’s jus about to tell de first time Maria gets kissed by a boy.”

  “Have a heart,” Maria whined, raising her hand. “How many times should I be forced to relive the moment Jorge Lupes’s nose nearly poked out my eye?”

  I covered my mouth with my hand.

  “Laugh all you want. I had a black eye for a week and still have nightmares.” She shuddered. “Damn, if Jorge Lupes is on the menu, think I’ll skip the dessert.” Kissing Rosa’s cheek, she waved to me. “See you mañana.”

  I couldn’t drag myself away. Rosa reminded me of an older version of my favorite aunt, a beautiful woman who died much too young of breast cancer. “I’ve been thinking about Mr. Botello…Santiago. He’s a man of few words, isn’t he?” I was still worried I’d offended him at the airport.

  Rosa’s face fell. She wrung the towel in her hands. “He is dat way now wid everybody. He holds hisself back from de people.”

  “You’ll probably find him a bit guarded,” Maria had said.

  “I would be too after what happened to him.”

  Color drained from Rosa’s face as if a ghost had leaped out from behind the counter. “You…know?”

  “About the disappearing fiancée? Yes, Maria told me. Pretty heartless to dump Santiago three days before the wedding.”

  “I should not talk about dis,” she whispered.

  “It’s none of my business. But I do like him, I mean, he seemed…” hot, “…like a nice man. That woman must have really hurt him.”

  Rosa’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Cristina? Dat girl, aye, was una bella—oh how you say?—a beauty. She and Santiago, fantástico!” She clapped her hands together before her heart. “A couple made by de Lord hisself.”

  “She left him.”

  “No, Señorita Ereen, do not believe all dis you hear.” She looked cautiously around the empty kitchen. “Please, do not speak of this anymore.”

  �
�Now I’m worried about him. Please tell me what happened.”

  Rosa’s brows relaxed and her lips turned up slightly at the corners. “I should not say anything, but I tell you more because of tus ojos.”

  “My eyes?”

  “Glory be to God.” She folded her hands together and lifted her face toward the ceiling. “He has answered old Rosa’s prayers. And sent an angel.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  She cupped her leathery hands around my cheeks, studying my face. “Ereen, don’ tell nobody dis.” She leaned her tiny frame against the counter next to me. Mixed emotions flooded her dark face—propriety, desire to unburden her secret, and fear—the strongest of these being fear. “Peoples saying she ran away, but is impossible, Cristina loves Santiago.”

  “Okay…”

  “Someting bery bad happened to Cristina. I knows it. Santiago knows too. It changes him. His papa dies, his mama is sick, den dis. My heart breaks inside my body for him.”

  I blinked, trying to figure out what she was not telling me. “Surely there was a police investigation. Didn’t someone try to find her?”

  “Oh, Dios mío, sí. Santiago searched everywhere. He hired men to look. Offered rewards. Many months. Nada. When de police give up, Santiago keeps looking. Knocking on doors, searching de hospitals.”

  “What about her family?”

  “No one heard from her again.”

  “Wow.” I exhaled, leaning back against the cabinet. “What does Santiago think happened to her?”

  “He no talk about dat. Peoples saying she finds a new man. I don’ believe it.”

  I lifted myself off the counter and landed lightly on the floor before her. “What do you believe?”

  Her voice was low. “Der’s only one reason why Cristina no marry Santiago.” She crooked her finger. When I bent down to her level, she whispered in my ear, “All dey going to find is her bones. Evil done steal her away.”

  I backed up in astonishment. “You suspect someone—?”

  “Someting,” she corrected. Her lips trembled. “We call it de darkness. It can take any of us. Quickly and without mercy.”

  “Darkness?”

  “Now go,” she said. “I have much work to do.”

  “But—”

  Forcibly she turned me by my shoulders and headed me toward the door. Goodness, she was strong for a woman her age. “Go!” She shooed me with the kitchen towel, her soft warning behind me. “Ereen, cuidado.”

  Be careful? A new man making my pulse race, strange déjà vu, and a spooked housekeeper talking of a missing woman’s bones. What was there to be careful about?

  dc

  Serena opened her eyes. She found herself curled up against a rock wall in a dark alcove, somewhere faintly familiar. Her mind scrambled to recall where she was. Who she was. Fear, dark and deadly as a blade pressed to her throat, made it difficult to breathe.

  Why was she afraid?

  Her gaze traveled up the dark wall searching for answers. She narrowed her eyes and peered deeper into the corner of the alcove.

  “What is this?” Her voice echoed off the stone walls.

  There, written in the dust on the floor, was one word.

  She stared at it a moment, puzzled. Lifting her hand, she was surprised to find her finger coated in dust. If she had written the word before she fell asleep, then it must have been important. Hope flooded her senses.

  She yelled the word as loudly as she could. And suddenly the tower was gone.

  Where am I?

  Darkness blinded her eyes. She was sitting on a chair. Something rustled nearby, breathing deeply. Serena sat still, waiting for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she recognized the bedchamber, the chair, and the bed with the large lump in the middle of it.

  Espera, the lump in the bed is…moving.

  Serena tiptoed to the bed. “Perdón, can you help me?”

  The woman in the bed stirred. “Whaa—?”

  “Por favor, do the say-on.” Serena poked the lump in what she hoped was a shoulder.

  The woman opened one eye. “Go away.”

  “I shall, if you do your duty.”

  “Damn dreams.” Erin’s eyes were glassy, unfocused. “Let me sleep for once.”

  “I am no dream. At least, I do not believe so. Truth be told, I do not know who I am.” She sighed. “What I am.”

  “I’m dead tired,” Erin mumbled. “Self-discover elsewhere.”

  Serena’s mouth fell open. “Are you dead? You see, I’ve been wondering if perhaps I am as well. It is all so unclear. Sometimes, I remember—” she swallowed hard, “—horrible things. Other times, I can remember not a thing. Except Andrés. I must find him.”

  Erin didn’t say a word. Her breathing had deepened.

  “Awaken! You must do your say-on.”

  The woman who was supposed to reunite her with her everlasting love was snoring loudly.

  As Serena sat back down on the chair to ponder what to do next, the room started to spin around her. The next thing she knew, she was back in the tower. Crying. Again.

  dc

  “Rise and shine!” Maria called out much too cheerfully. Startled, I sat up in bed clutching the blankets around my chest. My pulse raced. I wasn’t quite sure where I was.

  “Jeez, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Do you always wake up like that?”

  I plopped back down, yanking the pillow over my head. “Please go away.”

  “Snooze later, Erin.” The sound of the shades being lifted grated in my ears. “Time to shop for man-killer gowns.”

  “Gowns?” I sat back up. “Are you serious?”

  “Serious as a—”

  “Hung-over IRS Auditor?”

  “No. My brother when he wants to get his groove on.”

  I was awake now. “Huh?”

  “He’s throwing a welcome home party. For me.” She made a circular movement with her finger. “For both of us. “It’s going to be huge. Everyone’s coming. Come on, get up already.” I groaned into my pillow. “Here.” She pulled the covers back and produced a tray. “Coffee and hot rolls. Now hurry.”

  An hour later we were walking into town. “See that place? The one with the shells?” Maria pointed to an unusual-looking house with something odd stuck all over the front of it.

  “Those are shells?”

  “Carved from stone.” We crossed the street and went for a closer look. “This was originally a palace built in the fifteen hundreds for a knight. My brother loves this place. He used to call it his because the shells were the emblems for the Santiago Order the knight belonged to. Cool, huh? It’s a library now. Maybe one day when we have more time we’ll go in. Today we’re on a mission.”

  A few blocks later we came to a large plaza containing a giant four-story, rectangular conglomeration of shops and romantic cafes. It looked hundreds of years old, and the open area in the middle went on forever.

  “Holy cow! Would you look at this place?”

  “I knew you’d like it. This is the Plaza Mayor, basically the heart of the city.”

  “It’s gorgeous.” I tipped my head to see as high up as I could. “The architecture is unbelievable. I feel like I’m in a palace courtyard. I could spend all day here.”

  “Another day. We’re late.” She took my arm and we walked through the Plaza Mayor and out the other side.

  “Whoa, wait. What is the delicious smell?”

  “Mmm, jamón serrano. Only the best ham in the world.” We followed our noses to a butcher store with all sorts of amazing animal parts swinging in the window. “That’s jamón serrano.”

  “A big chunk of pig leg?”

  “This ham has been curing for about eighteen months. Just wait until you try it. My gosh, of all the things I have missed, this ranks in the top ten.”

  “Eighteen-month-old pig? I’ll take your word for it.”

  “No way chica, you’ve got to try this for yourself. We’re already late, I guess a few more minutes won�
��t hurt.”

  The butcher scraped off thin strips of ham, somewhat like prosciutto, but a thousand times better. It was sweet, dry and earthy all at once.

  “I’m in love,” I sighed.

  “Told ya so.” She licked her fingers. “Heavenly. Okay, let’s roll.”

  As we passed an ancient sandstone cathedral, I saw a man watching us from across the street. He seemed familiar.

  “Do you see that guy?” I whispered to Maria. “Across the street, pretending to look in the shoe store?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “I think he’s following us. See? He’s looking again.”

  “Oh come on,” she laughed. “Of course he’s looking. We’re h-o-t.”

  I didn’t laugh. “Does he look like a cop to you?”

  “No. Why would a cop follow us?”

  I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Stupid, huh?”

  “A little paranoid, maybe. Hello!” She waved at the man. He waved back and went inside the shoe store. “See? Nothing to worry about,” she said.

  “I guess so.” Still, he was familiar and he was following us. I was sure.

  The bells from the cathedral began ringing loudly, methodically calling worshippers to noontime mass. I loved the way the ancient and the modern intertwined.

  “We’re here. Lucas Felatilla’s. My favorite dressmaker in Spain,” Maria said. We ducked under a rock arch covered by a heavy vine and stepped into a quaint shop smelling faintly of old building and strongly of rich fabrics.

  “Is it really you, Maria?” A sixty-ish gentleman stretched out his arms.

  Maria hugged him. “In the flesh. How are you, Lucas?”

  “Wonderful, bella, since you have returned.” Lucas was an aging Ichabod Crane, thin and lanky. His hair was parted near his left ear and dragged across his balding scalp. While his hair was silly, his gray pinstriped pleated pants and dark shirt suited him to a tee. “And who is this lovely creature?”

  “Erin, my friend from California. Do you have any gowns already made in our sizes? What? Stop looking at me that way. I would have given you more time if I had it.”

  “Only once did you allow me the luxury to be creative for you.” He pouted. “Ah, but the gown for your brother’s wedding was one of the most exquisite designs I ever created—” He stopped abruptly. A heavy stillness settled on the room. “A thousand pardons. I should not have mentioned that sorrowful time.”