Dulcina

by Linda Carroll-Bradd

  Gabriel glanced at the five cards in his hand and debated between the possibility of either drawing another club for a flush or a ten to fill in his ace-high straight. With six players, the odds weren’t too good on either so he kept the ace. “Dealer takes four.”

  Snake scoffed. “Looks like the fancy man’s luck is changing. Well, mine hasn’t, and I raise four bits.”

  A glance down reminded Gabriel he still wore the clothes from the wedding ceremony hours earlier. The suit was a bit dressed up to be in this rustic saloon’s card game.

  “Now, why’d you do that, Snake? I ain’t got enough to match that raise.” Skelly slapped a hand on the table, palm up. “Lend me a buck, would ya?”

  The man’s whiny voice grated on Gabriel’s nerves. Whoever heard of players sharing money during a hand? As saloon owner, he could put a stop to that practice but he feared the men would be reminded of his status and the tone of the easy conversation would change. What he hoped was to learn more about Crane’s activities.

  Snake shoved away his brother’s hand. “This game is not like when we play by ourselves. If you can’t meet the bet, you fold, Skelly.”

  “Ah, hell.” Skelly slammed down his hand then balanced on the back legs of his chair. “Hey, is that pretty lady coming back soon? I saw me a redhead this morning that I fancy, but one woman is as good as the other.” He threw back his head and laughed.

  Snake and Swede joined in, jabbing elbows in each other’s sides.

  Fury shot through Gabriel’s body, firing his blood. Glaring at the trio, he pounded a fist on the table. “Refrain from speaking of my wife in that manner. Or I will toss the lot of you out in the street.”

  The other two players, ranchers Tim Wesley and Paul Blevins, eased back in their chairs, their cards held close to their chests.

  The laughter died.

  Chair legs thumped on the floor. “Huh? The last time we was in this saloon, she was a widow, just like all the women around here. That’s why this town’s our favorite. Right, Snake?”

  “Shut your trap, Skelly.” Scowling, the man twisted the tip of his moustache. “Don’t mess up my chance to win this pot.”

  All thought of losing went out of Gabriel’s head. These men needed to learn manners. With jerky moves, he grabbed his cards and shuffled them, acting like he sought a play. But the four cards he’d drawn gave him a decent chance at winning. A small victory was gained, but he resented these men and their disrespectful attitude. This aspect of accepting Dulcina’s offer had never surfaced in his mind.

  “I’ll match the bet.” Fair-haired Wesley tossed in the needed coins. “Did you hear about the attempt this morning to scatter the horses being driven into town?”

  “I’m out.” Blevins tossed down his cards then scratched at his wiry black beard. “A rotten action against the widows, if you ask my opinion.”

  “Yeah.” Snake nodded and glanced around the table. “Real rotten.”

  Swede dipped his chin and tossed in his coins.

  “Wonder if trouble will happen at the auction.” As he giggled, Skelly’s eyes danced then he clapped a hand over his mouth.

  A stomp jolted the floorboards, and Skelly stifled a groan.

  Those two are up to something. Gabriel surveyed the room to make sure the other game and solitary drinkers seemed to be all right. “Snake, the bet is yours.”

  Blevins lifted his beer mug. “Rafter O men are doing sentry duty at the livery and corral, as well as some extra guards Buster hired.” He nodded then leaned on his elbows. “Sure wouldn’t want anything to happen to the horses I’ve got my eyes on.”

  The widows had taken the right precautions. Gabriel wondered if the horses, Oro and Bonita, he’d shipped on Monday’s special run of the Uinta Railroad would be safe. He’d have to get to the livery in the morning and inquire if adequate precautions were in place not to mingle his purebreds with the animals for auction. Suddenly, the days of travel and his numerous responsibilities weighed heavy on him, and Gabriel blew out a tight breath.

  Two more rounds of bets boosted the pot to eight or nine dollars. About the time Gabriel laid down his winning hand of four aces, he spotted Dulcina bringing in more food. “Gentlemen, I am giving up my chair.” He pulled the coins and bills toward him, not responding to the glares aimed in his direction by Snake and his cronies. As far as he was concerned, they got what they deserved for disparaging Dulcina. “I want another of my wife’s delicious tamales.”

  The next few hours the saloon remained open dragged. Gabriel circled the room, introducing himself and chatting with the customers. He sipped from a mug of strong coffee to keep alert. What he needed was to stretch out next to his beautiful Dulcina. If she’d let him.

  Chapter Nine

  A s closing time approached, Dulcina dreaded the minute hand advancing toward midnight. Anxiety over what would happen when she and Gabriel were finally alone jittered through her body. Her letter stated a marriage in-name-only, but everything about the protective acts he exhibited today and the long looks he’d turned her way this evening indicated he thought differently.

  Before his arrival, she’d tidied the bedroom closest to Front Street—also the farthest room from hers. Although she and Stuart never acquired many personal items, she did her best to make the room look inviting by moving a landscape painting and a few books from the sitting room. Based on the size of his luggage, the small chest of drawers might not be big enough. Oh, why was she worried? Gabriel had well demonstrated today he was a grown man and could take care of his own belongings.

  Dulcina carried a tray of freshly washed glasses behind the counter. As she had each time she returned to the saloon from the kitchen, she first looked for Gabriel. On almost every trip, she discovered him watching her. “Another night almost done, right, Ralph? Tonight has been a busy one.”

  “Best in a while, and I’m includin’ those tasty things you cooked.” He patted his stomach. “But I’m lookin’ forward to putting up my feet.”

  “I know what you mean.” Nodding, she crouched down then slid glasses onto the shelf under the counter.

  Boot steps approached, and by the slow cadence, she knew the person was Gabriel. Her skin tingled.

  “We never had a moment to talk about the saloon hours.”

  She stood and glanced at Ralph before facing Gabriel. “We’re been opening at noon and closing at midnight. The schedule is long but we wanted to offer the maximum availability.”

  “Stuart used to run the saloon from two in the afternoon until two in the mornin’.” Ralph wiped a towel over the shiny wood surface. “Without the entertainment, we didn’t see the need to go past midnight.”

  Gabriel leaned an elbow on the bar but held his body at an angle to scan the room. “Those are long hours for only two people. What if we hold off opening until two tomorrow? I have tasks to complete in the morning.”

  “Fine by me, boss.” Ralph moved to the other end to serve a customer.

  She’d debated about mentioning the dance, but if he visited any business in town tomorrow, he’d hear about the event. “Tomorrow’s the community dance at the Ridge Hotel.” Dulcina balanced the empty tray against her hip. “The widows have a chance to meet with men who came in for the auction in a casual way. Of course, the hope is the men become prospective husbands.” The description made the event sound a bit predatory. Heat inflamed her cheeks. “I thought we might attend for a little while.”

  “Of course, we will go. You can introduce me to your friends.”

  He’ll be surprised when he learns I have no friends here. Plastering on a smile, she straightened. “I want to set a pot of beans soaking. Tomorrow, I’ll make tamale pie instead of individual tamales. Lots less work.”

  “You are not forgetting my sopapillas, are you?” He grinned and cocked an eyebrow.

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Good. I look forward to my sweet treat.”

  His voice rumbled in a quieter tone. She couldn’t help but
apply a second meaning to his words. Before her cheeks burst into flames, she walked from the room and hurried out to the privy to leave it free for the men after closing time. Before she knew it, the customers had left, and Gabriel joined her in the kitchen.

  “Ready to go upstairs?”

  She turned from where she reorganized the spices…for the third time. No, I’m not ready to have you on the same floor. She met his gaze and couldn’t look away from the heat in his dark eyes. “I am.”

  Ralph strode through the room. “Good night, folks.”

  Dulcina returned the farewell but wasn’t sure her voice carried a foot away. After a last look around, she walked toward the doorway.

  “Let me check the doors are locked and I will be right up.”

  “I set up the guest room. It’s the one—”

  “That one is for Ralph’s use starting tomorrow. Tonight, I am moving into your bedroom, Dulcina.” He stepped close and slipped a hand along her cheek. “We are husband and wife and will share a bed.”

  Her body stiffened, and she couldn’t help the instinctive response. “But…”

  “I am not a beast, mí corazón. I can wait until you’re ready for intimacy, but I will fall asleep with you in my arms.”

  A lump filled her throat, and she nodded before turning and hurrying upstairs. Once in her bedroom, she lit a lamp on her nightstand then replaced the gown from the wedding in the armoire. As she unhooked the laces on her gray leather shoes, she debated over being in her clothes or putting on her nightrail. She had no idea what he expected, but she didn’t want to undress in his presence. From a drawer, she pulled one of her summer calf-length gowns of fine lawn and delicate embroidery.

  Pounding came from downstairs.

  What is going on? She moved across the room to press an ear to the door. When she heard the familiar screech of nails on wood, she realized Gabriel must be opening another crate. At this hour? Maybe he wasn’t as confident as he’d appeared in the kitchen. That possibility allowed her to breathe a bit easier. She sat at her vanity and removed the pins keeping her hair in a twisted up-do. When it tumbled loose, she ran her hair brush through the long strands.

  Footsteps climbing the stairs creaked on a board.

  Her pulse quickened. She brushed faster, until the ends snapped.

  A double knock came at the door a moment before it opened wide. Gabriel walked inside, crossed the room in two, long strides, and dropped the portmanteau on the bed. Then he went back to the doorway and leaned down to pick up a guitar case.

  Dulcina ignored the luggage and what it signified and focused on the case. “So, you still play?”

  “Most nights.” He glanced around. “My clothes will go in there?” As he unclasped the buckles, he jerked his chin toward the armoire.

  Díos mío. Her plan hadn’t included him sharing her private space. No area had been cleared for his belongings. Dulcina stood and moved to the foot of the bed. The impression she made must seem unwelcoming. “I hadn’t anticipated this outcome. Short-sighted, I know, but I thought I had more time.” Less than half a day had passed since his arrival, and so much in her life had changed.

  He straightened, his jaw tight. Then he picked up the luggage and set it against the wall so he could pull apart the halves. “I will expect to unpack tomorrow.” He walked close and extended his arms in her direction.

  Frowning, she glanced from his hands to his face.

  “Cuff links, please.”

  “Oh.” She fumbled with the metal clasps, her fingers brushing his wrists. Such warm skin. Again, the act made an intimate connection from what was only a simple gesture.

  “Thank you. Luckily, my other shirts have buttons.” He unbuttoned the front before shrugging out of the sleeves. After draping it over the back of a chair, he unbuckled his belt then sat to remove his boots.

  The taut muscles in Gabriel’s tanned shoulders and arms flexed as he undressed. His sleeveless undervest stretched tight over a hard chest. The sight was mesmerizing. She gripped the metal footboard. Here was a man who’d spent years performing strenuous physical work. Awareness pumped her blood fast at the same time guilt crashed over her thoughts. How could she be having such feelings so soon after losing Stuart? Wrapping her arms around her middle, she spun to look at anything but him. After walking to the window, she gazed into the darkness broken only by tiny stars.

  “Don’t turn away, Dulcina. You need to get used to me being here. Talk to me.”

  “I can’t.” He took up too much space and didn’t fit here. His dark good looks tugged at memories of her first tender affection. Was she ready to feel again those impetuous yearnings that had often made her want to run like the wild mustangs through the highlands? Behind her, cloth rustled against skin and metal hit wood. Then came the gentle twangs of fingers on guitar strings strumming random chords.

  The notes formed into a tune she hadn’t heard for a decade. His song written just for her. His contralto whispered in the air, reaching across the space with Spanish lyrics of secret looks and exciting touches and budding dreams. Hot tears burned her eyes, and she had to watch him produce the sounds that wrapped around her heart. She eased down onto the mattress, taking in the sight of this man dressed in his underclothes cradling the guitar like he would a small baby. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how hungry her soul was to hear her native language.

  He looked up and pressed a hand flat on the strings to silence them. “Are you all right?”

  Although tears streamed down her cheeks, she nodded and gave him a smile. “That song was even more beautiful for listening to it this many years later. You have a gift for putting your thoughts into words.”

  “I always think of you when I hear this song.” He glanced at the strings again and positioned his fingers on the fret board. “A donde ira…”

  She sucked in a breath. La Golondrina.

  “Join me, Dulcina.” His dark gaze roamed her face. “You sing English, and I will sing Spanish. Let us see if we can harmonize.”

  Dulcina cleared the lump from her throat. “You think the lyrics will match?”

  He shrugged. “Try it.”

  Weeks had passed without practice and she hoped her voice wasn’t too unrehearsed. She settled with her back against the cool metal footboard and her legs straight then nodded.

  “One, two, three.” Then notes twanged.

  “Where can it go

  rushed and fatigued

  the swallow

  passing by

  tossed by the wind

  looking so lost

  with nowhere to hide.”

  Their voices blended then she lifted her voice into a higher octave before lowering to the shared melody.

  “By my bed

  I'll put your nest

  until the season passes.

  I, too, O heaven!

  am lost in this place

  unable to fly.

  “Leave, too,

  my beloved homeland,

  that home

  that saw my birth.

  My life today

  is wandering, anguished.

  I cannot

  return home.”

  Lost in the duet of their balanced tones, she closed her eyes and let the emotion fill her voice.

  “Dearest bird

  beloved pilgrim,

  my heart

  nigh to yours;

  remember,

  tender swallow,

  remember

  my homeland and cry.”

  Her throat was so tight, she stumbled over the last line. Then she brushed fingers over her cheeks. This lost swallow is how he thought of her?

  “You look so sad. Come and let me hold you.” Gabriel set aside the guitar then he slid his legs under the quilt and held open his arms.

  First, she stood and went to the lamp, cupping her hand on the other side of the chimney to blow out the flame. After slipping under the quilt, she hesitated, unsure of her next move. Several inches separated
them. Although the mattress angled downward, encouraging her body to slide across the space, she didn’t know if she was ready yet to cross the distance.

  Until his body heated the air between them, enticing her into his embrace. When his arms wrapped around her back, she sighed, surrounded by warm flesh and woodsy scent. In the darkness she found the courage to ask him what had been on her mind since receiving the telegram. “How were you still unwed all these years later? Did you find no woman to love after I left?”

  Gabriel lifted a hand to stroke her hair. “Do you wish to talk about this tonight?”

  “Tonight is the perfect time.” What better place to speak of secrets than in the dark of night? She pressed a hand flat on his chest, over his heart.

  “Only on this night, and then we will speak of it no more.” He kissed her temple then kept stroking her head.

  The caress was gentle, and Dulcina felt cherished.

  “I searched for another whose heart beat with mine, and for a while, I thought I had.”

  “Someone I know?” Her heart hammered in her chest. What if he’d loved a friend she’d known in her youth? How would she feel?

  “Shh. I will not say. Although I tried, I could not open my heart and return her love. No one else fills my soul like you, mí corazón.”

  Overwhelmed by his throaty words, Dulcina couldn’t speak. What if she couldn’t open her heart in the way he deserved?

  g

  Gabriel awoke slowly, aware he couldn’t roll away from the bright sunlight like he wanted. Then he looked down and saw Dulcina had wrapped her hands around his right arm. Like in her sleep she needed to assure herself he was still there. Her pouty lips were almost irresistible, but he’d made a promise not to pressure her. If he remained in the bed, smelling her jasmine-scented hair and feeling her warm skin against his, he might not have the willpower to keep that promise. Easing away an inch at a time, he slid from her grip and gathered clothes. As he walked barefoot down the cool wooden steps, he vowed to seek out a carpenter and contract for a washroom to be constructed off the kitchen. He’d read enough about this part of the country to know he didn’t want to traipse out to the privy through many inches of snow.