Because You're Mine

by Nan Ryan

  Just outside the door, Burt lifted a tanned forearm, blotted away beads of dirt and perspiration from his forehead, gestured for the other two to remain outside, and stepped into the doorway, smiling.

  “Say, Dad. How you doing?”

  Raleigh Burnett’s pale blue eyes narrowed at the sight of his tall, imposing son. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

  Burt shrugged wide shoulders, stepped inside, and shut the door. “You look tired,” he said, moving closer to the old man’s wheeled chair. “Miss your afternoon nap?”

  Raleigh Burnett glared at Burt and clenched his arthritic hands together in his lap. “I had a guest for lunch today.”

  “Good for you. Who was it?”

  “Your fiancée, Gena.” He scowled. “Or have you forgotten about Gena?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Burt calmly replied, pulling out a straight-backed chair from one of the green baize gaming tables, turning it about, and straddling it, folding his long arms over its back.

  His father’s face turning a fiery red, he said, “Well, you’re damned well acting like it!”

  “Jesus Christ, what’s Gena been telling you? And why the hell is she bothering you with her problems?”

  “Her problems?” Raleigh Burnett snarled. “Her problems? How about your problems? Seems to me you’re the one with the problems!” His face was now flaming red.

  “Better calm down, Dad.” Burt’s tone was tranquil. “You know Doc Ledet said you’re not to get overly excited.”

  The old man leaned a little forward in his chair. “Well, by God, you should have thought about that before you started playing around with a cheap Spanish whore!”

  Burt’s tanned face became almost as red as his father’s. He shot to his feet, twirled the chair out of his way, and ground his even white teeth, a muscle twitching in his clenched jaw.

  “Never,” he warned, his voice icy cold, “call Sabella Rios a whore again! You don’t know what you’re talking about! You know nothing about her!”

  “You’re wrong!” shouted his father, a vein standing out and throbbing on his pale forehead. “I know more about that woman than you’ll ever learn!”

  “Really?” Burt said sarcastically, and cocked his dark head to one side. “Then suppose you tell me what you know.” He crossed his long arms over his chest. “Go ahead. Recite all the dirty, damaging lies Gena fed you along with your lunch. I’d like to hear them.”

  Raleigh Burnett shook a bony, arthritic finger at his son. “Don’t you be trying to lay this blame on Gena. She was right to come here. Right to let me know what’s going on.”

  “The hell she was! She knows very well that—”

  Interrupting, Raleigh said, “Damn it boy, when are you going to grow up? Not even engaged for a full month and already sleeping with another woman! Isn’t one woman ever enough for you?”

  “Yes,” Burt calmly told him. “I’ve finally learned that one woman is all I want. All I ever really wanted.”

  “Then why in heaven’s name—”

  “Dad, I have fallen in love for the first and the last time. I didn’t plan it, I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it has happened and nothing can change the fact. I’m in love with a sweet young woman who, by the way, refuses to sleep with me.”

  “Do you know why?” Raleigh Burnett howled, his eyes practically popping out of his head. “Know why? Let me tell you why, it’s because she wants—”

  “It’s because she is a good, well-brought up, decent young woman. That’s why! She’s beautiful, intelligent, and warmhearted. She happens to be Spanish, so I know for that reason alone you hate her before you’ve even met her.”

  “No, that has nothing to do with it!”

  “Come off it, Dad. If the young lady’s name was Smith or Jones you wouldn’t be half this upset.”

  “Oh, God, that’s not it … you don’t know … ” Raleigh Burnett’s words trailed away. His stricken expression, his sudden silence, made Burt wish he had waited, had broken the news of his intention to marry Sabella in a softer, more tactful way. But it was too late.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” he said gently. “I know this is hard on you.”

  “Hard on me? Are you out of your mind? What about Gena de Temple? The woman who has loved you all these years?” Raleigh Burnett shouted. “The woman you promised to marry!”

  “I feel terrible about hurting Gena,” said Burt. “I’m going this very evening to break off the engagement. The senator will be there, so I’ll inform him as well. I’m sure he’ll take out his anger and indignation on me alone. At least I hope it will not alter your friendship with the de Temples.”

  “You’ll be damned lucky if the senator doesn’t try to kill you!”

  “That’s a chance I’ll have to take,” said Burt. “I’m breaking the engagement. I’m marrying Sabella Rios. If she’ll have me.”

  “Oh, she’ll have you all right! She’ll have you in more ways then you ever … ” he caught himself. Desperate, he tried another tack. He held out a bony, arthritic hand to his son. “Burton, listen to me, please listen to me. Gena’s a very wise, very understanding woman. I’ll talk to her, fix it up, tell her everything’s okay. Ask her to give you just a little more time.” He smiled weakly, hoping he had come up with a solution. “Meanwhile, you take the Rios woman to San Diego or Los Angeles. Check into a fine hotel. Romance her, dazzle her, ply her with champagne and caviar until she gives you what you’re after. Stay a week, two if necessary. Keep her in bed until you get her out of your system. Then come on back home and marry Gena.”

  “You haven’t been listening, Dad,” Burt said, refusing to take the hand reaching out for him. “I am in love with Sabella. I mean to marry her.”

  Fear gripping his weak heart, Raleigh Burnett said plaintively, “Burton, from the night you were born you’ve been more precious to me than you can possibly imagine. Everything I’ve ever done has been for you. Everything that I own, the fortune I’ve accumulated, this mansion and all the land of Lindo Vista, everything … all of it is to be yours.” Tears filled his pale blue eyes and he choked back a sob. “Don’t throw it away. I’m begging you, Burton, don’t do this to me. I’ve lived all my life for you, so please, won’t you … ”

  Burt decisively shook his head. “I love you, Dad, and I’d die for you. But I will not live for you.” He took a couple of steps backward. “I’m going now. I have to clean up before—”

  The distraught old man threatened, “I’ll disinherit you, so help me I will! You won’t see a penny of money nor an acre of land!”

  Burt nodded. “Fine. You do what you must. But it won’t change my mind. I am going to marry Sabella Rios. Nothing will stop me.”

  He turned then and started to walk away.

  Raleigh Burnett was trapped and knew it. He saw no way out. If he were to save his son from the vengeful Sabella Rios and certain heartbreak, he would have to tell Burton the truth. The awful, unforgivable damning truth.

  All of it.

  In defeat and resignation, he shouted at his tall son’s retreating back. “No! Burton, wait, come back. There are things you don’t know about this woman! Things you don’t know that I … That I … uhhhh … arrgh … ” Raleigh Burnett began to choke and struggle for breath.

  “Dad!” Burt shouted and whirled about to see his father clutching his chest in pain and starting to pitch forward. His heart hammering, Burt raced back across the room. He reached the wheeled chair in time to catch his father before he crashed to the floor.

  “Cappy! Blanton!” Burt shouted, cradling his sick, perspiring father in his arms. “Damn that Gena! Coming out here, burdening you!” The door burst open and Cappy and Blanton anxiously rushed in.

  Burt scooped his father up in his powerful arms, and running out into the corridor, called over his shoulder, “The sofa in the music room is closest, I’ll take him—”

  “No … no … my own … my … ” Raleigh Burnett murmured, grasping at Burt’s soiled shirtfront.
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  “He wants you to take him to his room,” Cappy interpreted.

  So Burt raced down the long corridor of the mansion’s northern wing, rounded the corner, dashed across the wide foyer and straight to the first door down the hall in the southern wing.

  His eyes rolling back in his head, choking and gasping for breath, Raleigh Burnett cried out in excruciating pain before blacking out completely. He went limp then, his head lolling against Burt’s chest.

  “Jesus, he’s passed out. He’s not conscious!” Burt shouted in alarm.

  Blanton hurried past Burt into Raleigh Burnett’s room, threw back the covers on the big four-poster.

  Burt gently placed the seemingly lifeless man on the bed, saying, “I’ll go for Doc Ledet!”

  “Send one of the cowhands,” Blanton said, starting to undress the clammy, pallid man.

  “I’ll go, Burton.” Cappy touched his shoulder.

  “No!” Burt violently shook his head. “Sam can get me there faster! You stay and watch over Dad. He needs you!”

  The household had heard the commotion and servants were already gathering outside Raleigh Burnett’s room. Burt anxiously wove his way through the throng, telling them, as he went, that his father was indeed very ill.

  Blanton and Cappy exchanged worried glances as they looked at Raleigh Burnett lying pale and lifeless-looking in the big bed, his frail frame swallowed up in a fresh white nightshirt, his arms outside the covers.

  Cappy tiptoed closer to the bed. To Blanton, he whispered, “What do you think it is?”

  Blanton replied, “I’m not sure. I suspect he’s had a heart attack, or perhaps a stroke.”

  “Will he—?”

  Blanton simply shook his head. He bent, picked up Raleigh Burnett’s discarded clothes from the rug, straightened and backed away, saying respectfully, “I’ll be right outside the door.”

  Alone with the sick man, Cappy Ricks stood for several long minutes beside the bed, staring down at Raleigh Burnett’s chalky face. Finally Cappy pulled up a chair.

  He was starting to sit down when Raleigh Burnett’s translucent eyelids began to flutter weakly. Cappy’s own eyes widened. He moved closer, and patted a limp, thin hand lying on the mattress, and said, “It’s Cappy, Raleigh. I’m here, right here.”

  “B-Bur-Bu … ” The sick man’s lips tried to form the name of his son.

  “Burt’s gone for Doc Ledet,” Cappy told him. “He’ll be back here with the doc any minute.”

  The paper-thin eyelids lifted and a pair of glassy, pale blue eyes looked up, trying to focus. “Cappy, that you?”

  “It’s me, old friend. Right here with you.”

  Raleigh Burnett sighed softly and said resignedly, “Cappy, I’m dying.”

  “Naw, no such thing.” Cappy’s gruff voice sounded strained even to himself. “Why, you’re just a little wore out and—”

  “Please … listen to me,” rasped Raleigh Burnett. “There’s something I have to tell you before it’s too late.”

  “I’m listening, Raleigh.”

  “There’s something you must know so that you can warn Burton.” Raleigh Burnett licked his dry lips and drew a shallow, painful breath and began, “A long time ago I committed a terrible sin.”

  Part Two

  Nineteen

  AN ENORMOUS PEPPERMINT-STRIPED tent stretched the width of the entire back courtyard, shading a throng of laughing, chattering guests from the hot September sunshine. Beneath the huge tent a sumptuous buffet was laid out on a long, linen-draped table. The table was crowded with an assortment of dishes and delicacies meant to tempt and please every palate.

  Huge silver platters held sliced, smoked ham and succulent roast beef and juicy barbecued ribs. For those who preferred seafood, there were boiled shrimp on beds of shaved ice, smoked oysters, and grilled salmon steaks. Fowl aplenty, too—tender pheasant, crispy fried chicken, and baked duckling.

  The deep round bowls of silver epergnes overflowed with sweet California oranges and tart yellow lemons and bunches of sun-ripened purple grapes. There were sweets of every kind imaginable, in addition to the huge, white three-tiered wedding cake.

  The giant cake stood at the table’s center. Beside it a massive crystal punch bowl was filled to the brim with a rosy pink liquid. Floating atop the chilled savory lake was a graceful swan carved from ice.

  The liberally spiked pink punch was not the only liquid libation available. Jeroboams of chilled Piper Heidricks and Niagaras of Mumms filled and refilled fragile long-stemmed glasses of the thirsty guests. Claret, port, and madeira were on hand as well, as were bourbon, scotch, and brandy.

  On the clear September air the sweet aroma from bowers of colorful, fresh-cut flowers mingled with the subtle, ever present scent of the sea.

  At five p.m. the wedding party was in full and noisy progress at Lindo Vista.

  A cortege of carriages had been arriving throughout the sunny September afternoon. Discharged passengers streamed through the old hacienda’s foyer, out the back door, across the flagstone patio, down the steps and into the peppermint-tented courtyard. As the crowd grew larger, people spilled out onto the vast manicured back lawn on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The size of the crowd, the wide smiles on the faces of those present, the amount of food and liquor consumed, and the frequent bursts of hearty laughter signaled that the wedding reception was a grand success.

  Neither the proud, handsome groom nor the glowing, beautiful bride had been sure how this party would turn out. Nonetheless, they had invited the entire population of the village to come to the rancho and join them in celebrating their wedding day. Elaborate plans had been made and executed. Preparations to host an enormous crowd of guests had been meticulously carried out. Enough rich food to feed every man, woman, and child in Capistrano had been ordered. Oceans of champagne had been chilled and enough hard liquor had been purchased to inebriate every hollow-legged drinker in southern California.

  While the plans were being made, while the tent and the flowers and champagne and the foods were being ordered, Burt and Sabella wondered if they might end up toasting each other alone beneath a large tent where no one had gathered at a party to which no one had come.

  Their concerns, as it turned out, had been completely unfounded.

  Strong sentiment had at first been with the wronged Gena de Temple when news of the broken engagement spread quickly among the many mourners at Raleigh Burnett’s funeral in June. It was, all agreed, just as well that Raleigh Burnett had gone on to his final reward before this sad turn of events. Lord knows if he hadn’t already been dead, this would have killed him!

  The gentry was absolutely outraged.

  Poor, dear Gena! She had their full sympathy and support. That support grew every time she tearfully repeated her heartbreaking tale of how Burt Burnett had suddenly, coldly jilted her! How, they asked themselves, could he be such a callous cad? Shock spread through the village like a tidal wave sweeping in off the ocean. That shock increased when they learned Burt had thrown the senator’s patrician daughter over for another. A young Spanish woman without relatives or background and a stranger to them all!

  Those who liked Burt best looked for a logical excuse for his abominable behavior. Some blamed it on the wretched Santa Anas. The hot dry winds from the desert had blown throughout the first part of summer. Not a drop of rain had fallen during the entire month of June. It had been too hot to eat or sleep much less think straight. There were no cooling breezes from the ocean to offer relief. For weeks on end there was the taste of dust in everyone’s mouth.

  Maybe those constant blowing Santa Anas had made Burt go a little soft in the head. Had caused him to do things he wouldn’t normally do. Make some idiotic decisions. Act in such a rash way as to bring harsh criticism down on his dark head.

  But even as the relentless hot, dry Santa Anas continued, the winds of forgiveness began to stir in the village. Despite his questionable behavior, it was next to impossible to stay permanently an
gry with Burt Burnett. Old friends who had known Burt all his life soon began to come around. In no time they reasoned he had every right to change his mind about marrying Miss de Temple. It was a free country, wasn’t it?

  Besides, who could stay put out with Burt Burnett for long, no matter what he did? He was an outgoing, likeable man whom they had known and loved since he was a chubby toddler with big gray eyes and a big wide smile. He would ride, astride his own gentle mare, into town with his father when he was barely two years old. He had a big hug and bigger grin for everybody he met on the streets. They had watched the adorable dark-haired tot grow into a tall, handsome man who still had a big hug and bigger grin for everyone he met.

  Then too, Burt had not, as some might have been tempted to do, hidden out after the breakup with Gena de Temple. Knowing full well that everyone was talking, he rode into the village daily for all to see and point at. And he was as friendly and as outgoing as he had ever been. Choosing to ignore the frowns of disapproval and whispered gossip his presence incited, he’d stroll down the wooden sidewalk straight to the Inn of the Swallows, smiling easily and nodding to all passersby.

  The romantics of Capistrano understood Burt better when they saw him with the beautiful young woman who had unseated Gena de Temple. In Burt’s eyes, when he looked at Sabella Rios, was such an expression of adoration it was clear she had completely captured his heart. He was a man who was totally, helplessly, finally in love!

  Every woman who saw the handsome pair together wished secretly that she herself were half so adored by a man half so handsome as the jet-haired, silver-eyed Burt Burnett. Likewise every man wistfully wished that he were half so in love with a woman who was half as pretty as the golden-tressed, dark-eyed Sabella Rios.

  And now, on this warm September afternoon, the eternal romantics—and those who were not—had happily accepted the invitation to come to Lindo Vista in celebration of Burt Burnett’s marriage to Miss Sabella Rios.