California Royale

by Deborah Smith

  “Fellows, this is our secret.” She pointed at Parker. “But I’ll wring your neck if I catch you ‘wandering’ again.”

  “You’re an okay lady,” Parker noted, looking relieved.

  “Thanks, Ms. Somerton,” the counselor added.

  Another female guest hurried into the reception area at that moment. She looked impatient and excited. “I came to make an appointment with the new masseur,” she announced, “Parker.”

  “Querida, you seem distracted tonight.”

  They were seated in rocking chairs on the balcony outside Duke’s hotel room. The hotel was one of Mendocino’s Victorian relics, a marvelous old building that fronted main street. Beyond the street stretched a field of tall grass. The field ended at steep slopes that plunged to the Pacific. Shea stared at a panorama of moonlit ocean and tried to keep her anger from surfacing.

  “I’m just tired,” she told him.

  “You hardly spoke during dinner.”

  “I ran several extra miles after work. My legs hurt.”

  He turned his chair to face her, then patted one knee. “Put those hooves up here, filly, and let old Duke rub your fetlocks.”

  “No, thanks. I’ve got to go back to the estate. I have some paperwork to do.” Shea continued staring at the ocean, but she sensed his annoyance and puzzlement in the silence that followed her remark.

  “Palomino,” he said in a soft, warning tone, “something’s wrong and you’ve got to tell me what it is.”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Let’s see. The boys came over today and went swimming. If I hadn’t had to stay here and take some phone calls, I would have come with them. I told you that earlier. Did they say anything wrong or disturb any of the guests? Did the counselors keep things under control?”

  Disturb wasn’t an adequate description for what Parker had done to a guest, Shea thought glumly. “I don’t like having them around,” she said in a sharp voice. “They worry me more than I ever thought they would. They’re loud and rowdy.”

  “Most teenagers are. They were only there for an hour, weren’t they? And didn’t you assign them one of the indoor pools away from the guests?”

  “Yes. Yes.” Her back muscles felt as if they’d snap from the tension of keeping Parker’s escapade to herself. She couldn’t bear to get the counselor in trouble with Duke. She also felt sorry for Parker himself, who would probably be sent back to his Los Angeles home immediately if she reported his indiscretion.

  The counselor had explained to her in private that Parker lived with a boozing older sister and her abusive husband. Shea remembered her own childhood, and her animosity toward Parker had evaporated.

  “Shea?” Duke’s voice was serious. “What happened to your cooperative attitude and open mind?”

  “This new situation is putting me under a lot of strain,” she answered. “You can’t expect me to adjust easily.” She was glad that the dim light hid her confusion and sadness. “Adíos. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  As Shea walked inside the hotel she heard Duke cursing no one and everyone.

  He let her strange mood simmer until the next night, and then he showed up at her cottage bearing a bottle of tequila and a box filled with Mexican food.

  “There’s only one way to end a fight,” Duke informed her as he strode into the kitchen. “And that’s by sharing good liquor and hot food.”

  “I know your idea of hot food. Let me get a fire extinguisher.”

  He didn’t laugh at the joke or acknowledge her wistful glances and outstretched hands. With single-minded reserve he went about the business of getting two plates from her kitchen cabinet, then dished up an array of Mexican concoctions.

  “I was bad tempered last night,” she admitted. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I love you anyway.” He walked past her into the dining room, his expression set in a mask of determination. “That’s what love’s about. Putting up with each other’s bad moods.”

  “Sounds romantic,” she said sardonically.

  “Doesn’t always have to be romantic. Just permanent and loyal.” He breezed past her again and got a shot glass for his tequila. “Want some booze?”

  “No. I’ll drink water.”

  “So be it.” He filled a glass for her, then brusquely grabbed napkins and silverware from the kitchen drawers.

  “Alejandro Araiza, stop playing kitchen maid and look at me!” she ordered, exasperated. “I feel as if I’m a chore you have to attend to!”

  He gazed calmly at her. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I intended to wait until you came to me. But nooo, the elegant and proud Ms. Somerton won’t apologize.…”

  “I apologize,” she murmured. Then, more fervently, “I apologize, Alejandro.” She stomped over to him and hugged his neck. “I was an ornery beast last night, and I needed to be by myself. A minute ago I was getting ready to drive over to the hotel and beg your forgiveness.”

  He hesitated briefly, then hugged her neck. “You’ve got to talk to me about what upsets you,” he said firmly.

  “I was going to bring you a dinner of tofu salad and herbal tea.…”

  “Lord, I’m glad I decided to make the first move.”

  They were interrupted by the sound of running feet and rustling shrubs outside the cottage. “What now?” Shea exclaimed as Duke rushed to the door. “Don’t! I’ll call security!”

  But he was already outside. Shea ran after him. The sounds came from behind the cottage. Duke and Shea rounded the comer in time to see Sally Rogers, dressed in a silky red caftan, make an amazingly accurate flying tackle on someone much smaller. Both Sally and the intruder went down in the shrubbery.

  “Cool it, kid. Cool it!” the famed comedienne squawked.

  “Ouch! You’re twisting my ear!”

  “I’ll twist it off and bronze it for you if you don’t get still!”

  “All right, all right! I wasn’t doin’ nothing!”

  “You were looking in my cottage window, you little creep!”

  “So what? So sue me, you fat broad.”

  “Fat broad? You weasel.” She was now sitting on the intruder, and he was wheezing for breath. Sally began to laugh. “I haven’t had this much fun in years!”

  Shea followed Duke through the shrubs and stopped, speechless with disbelief, as he knelt down beside Sally. He bent over and eyed the person under her. “Jason, what are you doing away from the group home?”

  “She’s squashing me, Duke! Damn …”

  “Don’t cuss, weasel,” Sally ordered.

  “Okay, okay! I was just restless, man. I just took a long walk, you know, and I looked in a window, and then this lady comes screeching out and almost kills me!”

  “I might yet,” Sally told him.

  Shea stepped forward. “I hope you’re not hurt,” she told Sally. “I can’t begin to apologize enough—”

  “No problem! It was fun! I haven’t had anybody peek in my windows in so long I decided that I couldn’t let this brave turkey get away! Had to capture his little fanny and see who he was.”

  Duke sat back on his heels. “I’ll say one thing for you, Sal, your aerobics class is paying off.”

  Laughing again, Sally got off of Jason and settled beside him in a heap of red caftan. Duke took the small, spindly boy by the shirt collar and helped him sit up. Shea took a long look at the thin black face made memorable by enormous brown eyes that snapped with intelligence. So this was Jason, the little warrior who’d had the courage to call Alejandro impolite names. He looked very young and very alone.

  At that sight, Shea was a goner. She had been this kind of defensive little person once, and she’d often felt just the way Jason looked. She held out a hand.

  “C’mon, Peeping Jason. How about some Mexican food?”

  He looked at her askance. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “Possibly the only friend you’ve got right now.”

  “I catch your drift.�
�� He took her hand and wobbled to his feet.

  Shea glanced at Sally. “Would you like some Mexican food and tequila?”

  She grinned. “Now that’s what I came to this fat farm for. Sure.”

  As the four of them sat around the dining room table and ate, Shea continued to feel Duke’s scrutiny. She was tired and upset at the incidents involving the teenagers, but she couldn’t turn away from Jason. Her emotions in turmoil, she picked at her food and said very little.

  Jason and Sally struck up a strange, bantering friendship that resulted in an even stranger happening: Jason apologized for calling her a fat broad. After that Sally looked at him with growing adoration, and Duke gave in easily when she insisted on walking Jason to the group home.

  She and Jason ambled off in the darkness, swinging flashlights and telling each other bad jokes. Duke called the head counselor, explained the situation, and directed him to give Sally a ride back to her cottage. When he got off the phone, he came to the kitchen and pried Shea away from the dishwasher.

  “You’re fantastic,” he told her in a husky tone. “You surprised yourself, didn’t you? You thought you could resist the kids.”

  “Can’t I be mysterious?” she retorted sharply. “You told me once that you like mystery in a woman.”

  Suddenly, now that they were alone, she couldn’t hold her emotions in check any longer. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

  “Shea?” Duke said anxiously.

  “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered in a broken voice. “I just want to be quiet and feel your arms around me.”

  “But what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to talk. Please.” She put a finger over his mouth and shook her head. “Please.”

  His eyes were troubled, but he nodded and drew her to him for a long hug. He reached out and flicked the wall switch, then picked her up and walked out of the dark kitchen. She continued crying softly even after they were undressed and in bed. Duke held her to his chest and stroked her hair until she finally fell asleep. He felt as if he were hurting her in some way he didn’t understand.

  “A toast to the beautiful señorita!”

  The leader of the mariachi band lifted a mug of beer in salute. His fellow musicians whistled and raised their beers also. Shea, uncomfortable at being the center of attention, nearly blushed. Duke’s friends had scrutinized her all evening, in a pleasant way, as if they’d already concluded that she would one day become Duke’s wife. People crowded into the hacienda’s courtyard and began to applaud. Drake’s arm slid around her shoulders and her chest swelled with tenderness. He sensed her embarrassment and was trying to ease it.

  “Gracias,” she called cheerfully, nodding to the band members. She glanced up at Duke, and he winked as he raised his glass. Smiling, he bent his head and whispered several intimate words of praise in her ear.

  “Your flattery has got to stop,” she whispered back. “In about a hundred years.”

  O’Malley, looking very different to Shea because he wore slacks and a sport shirt instead of the grubby work clothes he’d favored in Mendocino, raised a glass and called out, “Here’s to the Mendocino Group Home! A helluva proud project!”

  The party crowd whistled and applauded again. As Shea raised her glass she turned her face away from Duke so that he wouldn’t see her pensive expression. The mariachi band started playing again. A pair of cowboy types with handlebar mustaches swaggered up, and Duke removed his arm from her shoulders to return their handshakes.

  Shea took the opportunity to slip through the crowd and head inside. O’Malley caught up with her in Duke’s huge airy kitchen as she traded her sangria for a glass of water.

  “I’ve brought me Irish intuition with me tonight,” he said in a terrible fake brogue. “And I think, me girl, that you’re not very happy.”

  “O’Malley, you’ve got a lot of blarney, not intuition, and I’m fine.” She patted his arm.

  “You look fine, I admit it.” He nodded at the flowers in her upswept hair, her white, off-the-shoulder top, and brightly colored skirt. “Like an ad for the Mexican tourist bureau.”

  Shea was proud of the outfit, prouder still that Duke had chosen it for her. She smiled. “It was a present.”

  “He adores you, lady. Everyone here has noticed it.”

  “The feeling’s mutual.”

  “Is everything all right up in Mendocino? Duke said the first two weeks were rough, but he expects the next group of teenagers to be less trouble.”

  “They’re girls, so he thinks that they’ll be easy to manage. I haven’t had the heart to tell him that he’s wrong.”

  “Is that why you’re so subdued tonight?”

  “Relax, O’Malley, we only got here yesterday, and the trip’s a long one. We have to head back to Mendocino tomorrow, and I’ve got a lot of paperwork waiting for me Monday morning. I’m just preoccupied.”

  Jennie wandered into the kitchen and thumped O’Malley on the arm before he could ask anything else. “I want to dance,” she said firmly.

  He grinned at her. “Don’t mince words. Tell me exactly what you want, Red.” He pivoted, grabbed her, and swung her around.

  Shea smiled as she watched the two of them. Jennie’s vacation had begun on Friday, and she’d left immediately for O’Malley’s San Diego home. After the party they were heading for a resort on the Mexican coast. As far as Shea could tell, their relationship was passionate and good-natured but hardly serious.

  “Vamoose,” she told them.

  Shea left the kitchen and went to the deep, sheltering porch that fronted the house, where she stood quietly, letting the night breezes play over her face and bare shoulders. The exterior of the house was white stucco, with a red tin roof, big deep-set doors, thick walls, and massive concrete columns that held up the porch. It was a study in reds and sun-bleached whites.

  She loved Duke’s place, with its amazing vista of sky and rolling, harsh land. The ranch was a green island carefully preserved by irrigation; somehow that made it more beautiful. Duke had fought hard to build something special in this dry, demanding section of the state.

  When she heard footsteps behind her on the tile floor, she sensed that the long, confident stride could only belong to him. Shea turned to watch him walk toward her in the shadowy light.

  “Querida?” he asked softly. “Are you feeling all right?” He cupped her face in his hands and tried to see her expression.

  Shea kissed him lightly. “I’m having a terrific time. I’m just in a quiet mood.”

  That didn’t satisfy him. “You’ve been that way for more than a week.”

  “Life has been, well, different lately. With the group home opening, and the kids coming over to the estate …”

  “It’ll settle down. Whatever’s bothering you, tell me.”

  After a moment she admitted, “I’m not looking forward to the next group of teenagers.”

  He took her in his arms. “Palomino, I know they remind you of yourself as a teenager. Don’t let the past hold on to you. You’re a classy, successful woman, not a disadvantaged kid anymore. Let it go.”

  “I will, Alejandro. I just need time.” The sounds of a slow, erotic song drifted to them from the courtyard. Shea felt as though the music were winding through her body. She put her head on Duke’s shoulder and swayed slightly. He picked up the cue and moved with her. Their dance was barely more than an excuse to hold each other in the darkness.

  Dawn widened the horizon with pink and magenta shadows as Duke guided Outlaw up the ridge. He glanced over at Shea, who had changed from her party outfit to jeans and a pullover sweater. With her face raised to catch the morning breeze, her rein hand relaxed on the horn of her saddle, she seemed at ease on the tall gray mare Luis had selected for her.

  “It’s been a while since I stayed up all night,” she said. “This is a beautiful way to end a party.”

  “Sí. From loud to quiet. I like this better.” They topped the ridge, and Outlaw stopped automatically. She
a’s mare stopped alongside him.

  “Oh, Alejandro.” Shea’s voice held wonder as she gazed at the distant desert. “It reflects the colors from the sunrise. It’s like a dream.”

  “I’ve wanted to show you this place for a long time,” he murmured. He dismounted and lifted her dowa from her horse.

  “How old-fashioned and gallant,” she whispered tenderly.

  She put her arm around his waist, and he drew her close to his side. They stood silently for some time, watching the dawn melt the line between sky and desert.

  Shea kissed his cheek and he turned to face her, his eyes intense, searching. He grasped both her hands. They looked at each other without moving.

  “Will you marry me?” he asked.

  Visions of a wonderful future with him flashed through her mind, igniting elemental emotions that she didn’t need to analyze. She had known for a long time that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Alejandro. Shea kissed him slowly, savoring him as if they’d never kissed before. She murmured her answer across his parted lips.

  “Someday, sweetheart, of course.”

  He smiled quickly, then frowned. “Someday? I meant soon.”

  Shea shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to ease the knowledge that she was causing him pain. “No. Not right away.”

  He took her shoulders between his big hands as if he might shake her. “Someday is a lousy answer. Do you want to marry me or not?”

  “Don’t do this,” she begged softly. “Don’t be angry because I didn’t say yes.”

  “But why …?”

  “I love you.” She looked at him with pain showing in her eyes. “But I want to come to terms with my past. I’m unhappy, and I don’t want to marry you when I feel this way. I want to know exactly who I am—past, present, and future. You encouraged me to begin this process, Alejandro. I’m glad.”

  “I brought this unhappiness into your life,” he said wearily, “with the group home.”

  “Yes. But it’s good for me, Alejandro.”

  He grimaced as if he, too, were hurting inside. “I’ll close the road to the estate and keep the teenagers away. I don’t want you to be miserable.”