Not to mention, Solvino hadn’t been seen around the hotel the night before Slayton failed to report to work. The night he was likely killed.
His gut tightened with the thought that Josephine’s colleague was dead and that she might be working for a murderer. And if Martin hadn’t been pulled away to work for the mayor, he might be too, since Rake had hired the Pinkertons to protect the hotel.
Thanks to the investigation, he had been unable to see Josephine the last couple of days, and he hated how they had parted the last time. She had clearly been upset about something, and even though he’d tried to make things right with the notes he’d left, he knew it wasn’t as good as explaining to her face-to-face. Which he planned to do that night. While he couldn’t tell her everything, he was willing to risk telling her enough so that he could keep her out of harm’s way. She was too important to him, and he’d risk losing his job if it meant Josephine would be safe.
He was just finishing up his report on Slayton and the timelines that he and Nita had worked out when someone knocked on his office door. He looked up to find Josephine standing in his open doorway.
“Josephine,” he said and popped to his feet.
“I hope I’m not interrupting. I know how busy you’ve been,” she said, and his gut tightened at the upset tone in her voice and the sadness in her gaze.
“I am…was. I had planned on going to see you tonight.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk and with a nod, she walked over and sat down. Her hands were clenched tightly on the handle of her small reticule and tension radiated from every part of her body.
He closed the door to his office and sat in the chair opposite her. Leaning forward, he reached out to lay a hand on her knee, but she shied away.
“Josephine, what’s wrong? Something has been bothering you, and I can’t figure out what it is.”
Her head snapped up, and she said, “I saw you the other morning.”
Martin narrowed his gaze, trying to figure out what was causing her anger, but was unable to. Shaking his head, he said, “When? Where?”
“By the Royal Palm. You were there. With a woman,” she said and plucked at her purse nervously.
He flashed back to that moment. Nita had just gotten some bad news from home and had been upset. He had given her a friendly hug as a friend and colleague, but Nita had surprised him by deepening the embrace and attempting a kiss. He could see how Josephine had gotten the wrong impression.
“That was my new partner, Nita Alvarez. She had just gotten word that her mother was ill and well, she’s a strong woman. Like you. I knew it had to be serious when she got that upset, so I was just being supportive,” he said and raked a hand through his hair in frustration. He should never have let the situation with Nita get so out of hand that morning.
“I can see how you might have gotten the wrong idea, but I thought you knew me better. Trusted me.”
Josephine’s color paled to the point he thought she might faint, but instead she straightened and shook her head. “Your partner? A woman?”
He nodded. “She’s actually not the first female detective Pinkerton’s hired. Would you like to meet her? She’s right next door.” He paused and tilted his head. “Although I’d like to think that you might have more faith in your fiancé. After all, I’ve never given you any reason to doubt me, have I?”
Josephine shot to her feet and backed away from him, a shaky hand pressed to her stomach. “I’m sorry, Martin. So, so sorry,” she said and his heart clenched at the pain visible on her features.
He stood and walked to her. Took hold of her hands that were icy and trembling. “Please, Josephine. Whatever is wrong, you can tell me.”
“It’s just that… I saw you together, and I was upset. So upset and feeling so alone. And then there he was, so charming and understanding. And we had champagne, and I’ve never had champagne before.” She looked so distraught, and her words were coming faster and faster.
A sick feeling was coming over Martin, but he tried to keep calm and understanding. Cradling her cheek, he brushed his thumb across her wan skin and urged her on. “You can tell me anything, my darling. Please, tell me.”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” She almost wailed the words, and in that moment, his blood ran cold.
“What…happened?” he ground out, nearly growling. “Who gave you the champagne?”
She couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Rake Solvino.”
His stomach flipped nauseously even as he told himself that he was thinking it was much worse than it actually had been. “You…kissed him?”
She bit her lip, and tears welled in her eyes as she finally met his gaze and shook her head ruefully. “I… I was…inappropriate with him.”
The air rushed out of Martin’s lungs suddenly, and he swayed a bit, gripping the desk to steady himself. It was far worse than he’d imagined.
He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. His beautiful, smart, innocent, had-to-wait-for-the-wedding Josephine. Only she hadn’t waited.
“You told me about your grandmother…and the flower…and how we had to do things in the right order… We had plans,” he said, floundering for the right words as the anger built inside him.
She laid a hand on his arm and pleaded, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Martin, I am so sorry. Please forgive me! I know that I did something just awful, but it was because I was hurting and not thinking clearly. Please.”
“Are you saying that he…he took advantage of you when you were drunk?” he pressed, his voice rising as the rage burned hotter.
But as a condemning flush worked across her cheeks, it was clear Josephine had not been that indisposed. Terrible images of her passionately entangled with that robber baron were seared into his brain.
“I can’t believe this. How could you? I-I have to go.” He rushed out of his office, so furious that he was afraid of what he might say. What he might do.
For at that moment, our patient, kind, caring, and gentle Detective Martin was sorely tempted to find that heel Rake Solvino and beat the other man to a bloody pulp. But despite his hurt and anger, Martin knew one thing for sure: no matter what had happened, no matter how badly she’d broken his heart, he could never allow Josephine to be involved with a criminal.
Josephine rolled over in bed and stared at the moonlight streaming in through the window and onto the wooden floor of her room. Another sleepless night to add to the others she’d experienced over the last two weeks. Finding rest had proved difficult with her guilty conscience about both Martin and Rake. She hadn’t seen either of them in all that time since Martin was ignoring her and she was avoiding Rake.
Little by little the room brightened until the distant chime of church bells warned she should be rising. Even that light sound made her head pound. She sat up and the room spun around crazily, bringing a round of nausea. With a deep breath, she brought the dizziness under control and forced herself to rise, wash, and dress for work.
Her mother and grandmother were both downstairs in the kitchen and greeted her sunnily at first, but her sickness was impossible to hide from both their eagle-eyed gazes.
“Mi’ja, you look a little pale,” her abuela said as she placed a steaming cup of café con leche before her on the table.
“You don’t have a fever, do you?” her mother asked and laid the back of her hand on Josephine’s forehead.
“I just haven’t been sleeping well. I’m a little tired.”
Alberta laid a dish of toast on the table and jammed her hands on her hips. “I’d ask if Martin was keeping you out too late, but we haven’t seen him around lately. Is something wrong?”
Zara and Josephine shared a guilty glance and Zara hastily replied, “Martin has been busy at work.”
“And I have too,” she said, and wanting to escape before her abuela truly got wind of something being wrong, she jumped to her feet. Unfortunately, another round of dizziness had her head reeling and she fell back onto the chair, a c
lammy sweat erupting all across her body. Sucking in a few rough breaths, she restored control.
“You came in late last night. Did you have a chance to have supper?” her abuela asked.
“I didn’t get a chance to eat after I left work.” Her gaze connected with Zara’s, who clearly understood that her attempt two weeks ago to track down Martin and speak with him hadn’t gone well.
Bustling around, her abuela laid a hand on her forehead and said, “No fever, so that must be why you’re not feeling well. Let me make you something to eat.”
But as her grandmother walked away to begin making breakfast, her mother peered at her intently and then started counting something on her fingers. The count hadn’t gone far when Zara wrapped an arm around Josephine’s shoulders and called out “Make her some eggs, Mami.”
“Of course, some eggs are just the thing to settle her stomach,” her grandmother said, but there was a look on her mother’s face that said otherwise.
Josephine wondered what eggs had to do with anything, but when her abuela put them before her, her stomach revolted violently and she dashed to the bathroom to avoid embarrassing herself.
When she emerged, both women were standing near the doorway, staring at Josephine in horror.
“It’s probably just a little stomach upset. I’m sure it’ll pass in a few hours. I’ll have to send Mr. Adams a message somehow—”
But she broke off as Zara took her arm gently, a look of despair on her face, as she steered Josephine to the sagging well-worn sofa in the living room. “No, honey. Sit down.”
“I can’t. I have to be at the hotel—”
“Sit down, Josephine,” her grandmother said sharply.
Josephine sat. “Please don’t worry, Abuela. I’ll be just fine in—”
“Nine months,” Zara cut in urgently, squeezing her arm.
Confused, Josephine stared at her mother as recognition slowly dawned in her still-fuzzy head. A chill swept through her. Was her mother saying… Could she actually be…?
“No, Zara, you’re mistaken. Josephine knows how important it is to not ruin her flower.” Her abuela looked in her direction and said, “Right, Josephine? Tell your mother…” But her voice trailed off at the guilty look on Josephine’s face. “No, Josephine. No. You understood about the flower. About how you can never get it back!” she said harshly.
“Maybe it’s something else,” Josephine said, trying to count down as her mother had done.
“Josephine, I thought you understood. That you saw how hard it’s been for your mother. The way some treat her and even how they treated you,” her abuela urged.
“Mami, please. This isn’t what she needs to hear right now,” her mother said and urged Alberta to calm down.
“No, I’m sure it isn’t. But I am sorry, Josephine. I had hoped for more for you,” she said and rushed from the room.
Josephine stared at her retreating back, the sight fuzzy from her tears. “Mami, I’m so sorry, but maybe it’s just a cold.”
Zara grabbed the plate of eggs and brought it closer, making Josephine’s stomach twist in revolt again. “Mi’ja, I have no doubt. You’re pregnant.”
With that proclamation, the dizziness descended on Josephine once more and for the first time in her life, Josephine Galena Valencia fainted.
Oh my goodness! Josephine is having the boss’s baby? Alberta is truly not happy about this. Martin won’t be either.
Chapter Six
When she stirred, Zara led her back to bed, tucking the covers in around Josephine’s legs. Her abuela had not returned to the room and was probably on her way to work already. Or maybe she was so disappointed in Josephine she just couldn’t bear to face her unmarried, pregnant granddaughter right now.
Pregnant. The word bounced around inside Josephine’s skull like a bagatelle ball ricocheting off its game pegs.
Her mother grabbed the plate with the dry toast from the nightstand and handed it to Josephine. “Eat this. It will settle your stomach.”
She took a bite but protested as she chewed. “How can you be sure I’m with child?”
“Your abuela couldn’t eat eggs while she was with child. I couldn’t either. That’s how she knew I was pregnant with you.”
“It’s not possible.” She and Rake had only made love once that night. Okay, maybe twice, but she knew lots of girls who were far more inappropriate and had been spared this fate.
Zara cradled her cheek. “It’s more than possible, Josephine. I should know.”
Josephine was surprised Zara was willing to talk about this, when she’d been so upset and uncomfortable sharing part of her story weeks earlier. But she was eager to hear more of her mother’s past.
“You’ve never told me how you got pregnant with me.”
Zara hesitated, still slightly uncomfortable, but began talking. “I thought he loved me. We had known each other as children, in school together, but then he…left. He moved around a great deal…”
Her voice trailed off as she hesitated and looked away, her pain obvious.
“Mami, it’s okay. You don’t have to say more,” Josephine said and covered her mother’s hand with hers, squeezing it reassuringly.
“You know he was a…soldier,” Zara said and continued. “He came back and we were together, but then… Well, I thought that once I told him about you, he would stay, but before I could, he was called away.”
“And he never came back?” Josephine asked, wondering what kind of man would just walk away from the woman he loved. Would Martin? Would Rake? But then she recalled Rake’s wife and fear gripped her hard. Rake could be that kind of man. Maybe Martin could too; he’d walked out of his office without a backward glance at her nearly a fortnight ago. How could he ever want to be with her again if he knew she was having another man’s baby? Panic filled her at the thought.
“No, he didn’t come back,” Zara said, “and I had no idea where he went. I always hoped that he would return one day, only…”
Her mother shook her head and suddenly pushed to her feet. “Why don’t you finish up that toast and get some rest? I’ll walk you to work when you’re feeling better.”
Josephine nodded and watched her mother rush out the door. In truth, she was already starting to feel better physically because the food had helped to settle her stomach. Mentally, however, she was at sixes and sevens. She didn’t want to believe that her mother was right, but doing a quick calculation in her head, she knew she was several weeks past the time when she should have gotten her monthly menses. Josephine pondered how she could tell the two men in her life about the pregnancy. She felt sick imagining how they would respond. And her abuela would be even more disappointed in her when she found out how it had happened.
Plus, she was worried about what kind of mother she could possibly be and how that would affect all that she wanted in life. She had only one more course to complete in order to be able to tutor, but what respectable family would hire a young woman whose virtue had been compromised? Her job at the hotel could likewise be in jeopardy, especially if Rake responded negatively to the news. As for her lifelong dream of writing a novel, how would she find the time if she had to also add caring for a baby to work and finishing her class?
But she had never been one to just sit and take things lying down, like she was doing now. She tossed off the covers, grabbed her reticule, and marched downstairs to the kitchen where her mother was cleaning up.
“I’m going to work,” she said.
“I’ll walk with you.” Zara tossed aside the towel she had been using to dry the dishes and met Josephine at the door. Smoothing her hand across Josephine’s upswept hair, she said, “It will be okay.”
“I wish I could be so sure about that. Were you sure?” Josephine asked as they started on the short walk from the cottages to the Regal Sol.
Zara shook her head. “Not at all. I had so many doubts and worries about raising you alone.”
“Not entirely alone. You had Abuela.” Jos
ephine’s heart clenched. “Mami, do you think she’ll ever be able to forgive me?”
“In time, she’ll come around, you’ll see. She forgave me. Eventually.”
Josephine shot a half glance at her mother from the corner of her eye, hearing the upset in her tone. “Did you ever wish you had done it differently?”
Love shone from her mother’s eyes as she smiled and said, “I’m glad I had you.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Josephine said, though truthfully she felt relieved at her mother’s answer.
“I know.” Zara stopped short suddenly, the anguish apparent on her face. “Do you wish I had?”
Since Zara was her best friend in addition to her mother, she had to be truthful. “I always wished I knew my father. It’s why I have to tell Rake about the baby.”
Her mother looked discomfited at her confession. “What do you plan on doing about Martin? Do you plan on telling him as well?” Zara said, her tone filled with concern.
“I think I owe it to Martin to be truthful and tell him what’s happened.” She started walking again, and Zara matched her pace to Josephine’s.
As they neared one of the entrances to the hotel, a small billboard heralded an upcoming show by a well-known troupe of actors and singers. The handsome male lead, Ronaldo de la Sera, beamed a toothy smile from the billboard and Josephine could swear that there was a real twinkle in his eyes a second before he suddenly winked at her.
She blinked, clearing her vision, and stared back at the billboard, but it was just paper and ink pasted on wood.
Snow Falling Page 7
