Where was her spirit? she wondered drearily. Her zest for life? Was she simply going to fade away into a sad, spineless spinster?
Francisca's dark, depressing presence wasn't conducive to laughter, or even pleasure, Sabrina mused slowly, and she suddenly wished that her aunt and Carlos didn't still live with her. She suspected that left to her own devices, she wouldn't have barricaded herself away from their friends and neighbors. Without Francisca and Carlos sheltering her to the point of isolating her, she probably wouldn't be still wearing black, still brooding over the injustice of fate, still mourning this deeply her father's death and his unexpected betrayal. . . .
A bitter gleam lit the amber-gold eyes, an angry flush staining her cheeks as she remembered the ghastly day when the enormity of his betrayal had been made clear. It had been almost a year ago when the stunning contents of Alejandro's will had been disclosed to her.
Even now, just thinking about it jarred her from the apathy that seemed almost a natural part of her. Her mouth tightened, and her jaw set. How could he have done that to me? she thought furiously.
Alejandro hadn't disowned her, but occasionally, when anger got the better of her, Sabrina almost wished he had. Anything would have been better than what he had done!
Reviewing it rationally, she really shouldn't have been so stunned—at least a hundred times before he died, Sabrina had heard Alejandro complain bewilderedly, "It would have been such a wonderful match! I just don't understand you, chica! He would have been so good to you, been such an exceptional husband!"
She smiled grimly. Well, he couldn't force her to marry Brett, but he had done his best to see that Brett would hang around her neck like a slave chain for the rest of her life. She had been her father's only heir, and listening to the lawyer's precise voice that day, Sabrina hadn't been surprised to discover that all Alejandro's belongings had been left to her. It was the codicil to the will that had caused the furor and left her so resentful and furious with Alejandro—Brett Dangermond had been named as her sole guardian. Like some prized filly, she had been handed over to him to do with as he pleased. Everything was to be in Dangermond's control—until she married. The problem was, and this infuriated Sabrina almost as much as the guardianship, Brett had to approve of her husband. If he didn't, the entire del Torres fortune, except for a modest annuity for her, became his.
Sabrina's teeth gritted together. Dios! How angry she had been that day! Francisca's fury, though, had been frightening, and to this day her aunt could not speak Alejandro's name. Carlos had been as stunned as Sabrina, but though he had ranted and raved after the lawyer had departed, of the three of them, he had accepted Alejandro's will most quickly. When Sabrina had taxed him with it several weeks ago, he had shrugged his shoulders and muttered, "What good does it do to rail against that infamous will? I cannot change it. We have to live with it. Besides, you've made it clear you don't intend ever to marry me—so what does it matter to me that Dangermond is your guardian?"
Sabrina had looked at him dismayed. "It doesn't bother you that I am left in his complete control? That he practically owns me?" she had asked with puzzlement.
Carlos had drawn her into his arms, his lips gently touching her hair. "Of course it bothers me, querida!" he had murmured softly. "But until Dangermond makes some move, I can do nothing." He had tipped her head back and asked quizzically, "Unless you've changed your mind and will make me the happiest man in the world by saying you'll become my wife? Together, I'm certain we could break that damned codicil."
Sadly Sabrina had smiled at him. "If I could love you that way, I would. But you are my friend, my cousin . . .not my lover."
"I could be," Carlos had said thickly, "I could be, if you would let me."
Warily Sabrina had regarded him, that terrifying day in the gazebo far away but not forgotten. "Carlos, you will always be my friend. Nothing more," she had said gently.
He had sighed and released her. "It is just as well that I leave for Mexico City tomorrow." A teasing glint in his eyes, he had murmured lightly, "Perhaps there I shall find a red-haired beautiful heiress to take your place in my heart."
Sincerely Sabrina had replied, "Oh, I do wish you would! How happy it would make me!"
Carlos had grimaced and turned away. The next day he had left on his long journey to Mexico City to sell a sizable herd of del Torres and de la Vega cattle.
Sabrina guessed that part of the reason she was so moody today was because she missed Carlos. During the months since Alejandro's death they had tentatively reestablished their bond. Left alone with only Tia Francisca, she discovered that she longed for Carlos's easy companionship. At least with him around there was the occasional moment of laughter.
But it wasn't only Carlos's departure that preyed on her mind. The vexing, infuriating problem of the guardianship had begun to loom larger and more frighteningly before her. In the weeks following the reading of the will, Sabrina had waited with fury and impatience to hear from Brett; she had received only a polite letter from a lawyer in New Orleans informing her that her guardian was currently out of the country and would, as soon as he returned, take up the duties of his guardianship.
For a moment Sabrina frowned, remembering an odd incident the past October. She had been in the gazebo, lying on the cushions, when she had heard the sounds of an approaching horse. She had raised herself up slightly, and her heart had literally stopped when she had glimpsed through the concealing gloom of the forest the tall, dark figure astride a bay stallion. The rider's features had been hidden by the pulled-down brim of his hat, the lower half of his face completely obscured by a heavy black beard, but for one strangely ecstatic moment, Sabrina had been positive it was Brett. Something about the arrogant way he sat on the horse, the breadth of shoulder, the proud carriage . . . For a timeless second, man and horse had seemed to freeze as she slowly rose to her feet, making her presence known within the gazebo. And then, like a ghostly apparition, they had disappeared into the murky shadows of the forest, leaving Sabrina to wonder if she had dreamed the entire sequence.
Sighing, she pushed the unsettling memory away, knowing that it couldn't possibly have been Brett. If it had been, he would certainly have done more than simply stare and then ride away, she thought with a twisted smile.
Her initial rage about the guardianship had abated, even some of her resentment against Alejandro, but the knowledge that Brett Dangermond would one day ride back into her life hung over her head like a death sentence. She could only wait . . . and wonder.
Drawing her knees up against her chest dispiritedly, she rested her chin on her legs. Why? What had her father been thinking of when he had written that wicked codicil? For a second, she remembered the last time she had seen Brett Dangermond, remembered that inimical glance. Dios! And he was now her guardian!
Some of her old pride and fiery spirit came rushing up. Well, she certainly wasn't going to let him find her beaten down! She would show him that Sabrina del Torres was equal to an3^hing he could send her way.
Suddenly feeling much better, better and more like her old self than she had in years, Sabrina stood up. She looked down distastefully at the black silk gown she wore. It was time, she decided resolutely, to put aside her black and begin to face the world—Alejandro would have wanted it.
She arrived back at the hacienda a few moments later and was just crossing the rear courtyard when Clemente appeared. "Senorita Sabrina," he said with a faint frown, "there is someone to see you."
"Who?"
He looked puzzled. "I don't know. A young man. He has asked to see you. He seems familiar, and yet . . ."
Her interest sparked, Sabrina swiftly went to the front of the hacienda. A horse was tied to the wooden hitching rail, a tall, slender young man standing beside it. The pair of them had obviously come a long distance.
Her curiosity evident, she walked up to the young man. "Yes?" she said when she was near enough to speak. "What is it?"
The young man turned and stared
at her, his not-quite-handsome face vaguely familiar. She had the feeling that she had met him before. Consideringly her gaze ran over him, taking in his wiry six-foot frame, the dark brown hair, and the knowing brown eyes.
"Do I know you?" she asked at last. "You remind me of someone."
"Damn me for a saint if I don't!" the stranger said. "I told you I'd come back, didn't I, miss?"
"Ollie?" Sabrina gasped.
CHAPTER TWENTY
It was indeed Ollie! He had grown considerably in stature during the past six years, and now at twenty-five he stood several inches taller. No longer did his facial features resemble those of a wise little monkey. His once nubbin nose was now a quite respectable size and shape; his chin had squared, his jawline firmed, and his forehead broadened, making him a surprisingly handsome young man. Only those too-wise, button-bright brown eyes remained unchanged. That and his cheeky, impudent grin. It spread from ear to ear as he said, "When me and the guvnor finally arrived home last summer, I told him then and there that it was time I kept my promise to Lupe. It took me months to talk him around!" Ollie winked broadly at Sabrina. "And besides, now that he's decided to cease his wanderings, he'll need me and Lupe to run his household proper for him."
Astonished by his unexpected arrival and the change in him, Sabrina could only nod her head bemusedly. A dozen questions trembled on her lips, but she couldn't think clearly; she was only aware of a feeling of intense, almost painful excitement surging up through her. Laughter suddenly springing to her eyes, she said warmly, "Oh, Ollie, how good it is to see you again!" Teasingly she murmured, "But I mustn't keep you ... I am sure there is someone else you would rather speak to right now."
Ollie's brazen air instantly vanished, and he blushed bright red up to the very roots of his brown hair. He swallowed and appeared to be attacked by a severe case of nervousness. Fiddling with the tied reins, he got out uncomfortably, "Um, is she ...?I mean, did she . . . ?"
"Is Lupe still here, is that what you are wondering?" Sabrina asked lightly, a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth. At Ollie's vigorous nod, she added, ''Of course she is! She has become my maid. But I'll not tell you anything else—you'll have to speak with Lupe yourself."
Taking the suddenly shy Ollie firmly by his arm, Sabrina urged him across the front courtyard. Inside the hacienda, to the hovering Clemente she said, "It is Ollie Fram come back to visit us! But first he has something important to talk about with Lupe. Please send her to the small sala."
Maternally Sabrina watched Ollie as he prowled nervously about the small room, his hand going again and again to his neck as if his shirt had suddenly become too tight. When there was a timid knock on the door a few minutes later, he went white and threw Sabrina a look of utter terror. "Miss," he hissed under his breath, "she hasn't married someone else?"
Sabrina smiled mysteriously. "That is something you'll have to discover for yourself!"
At Sabrina's command, the door opened slowly, and Lupe stood there framed in the doorway, her dark eyes wide and expectant. Not seeing Ollie immediately, Lupe asked softly, "Senorita, is it really true, my Ollie has come?"
There was a strangled sound from Ollie, and Lupe's eyes went instantly in that direction. "Ollie, querido, is that you?" she breathed, taking in his height and handsome face.
Ollie nodded dazedly, his eyes traveling hungrily over Lupe's slender form, the delicate bones of her face, memorizing, assimilating the changes that six years had wrought on her. She had been a mere child when he had last seen her, and now here she was a lovely young woman. Great dark eyes clung to his, heavy black hair framing her features, her full lips half-opened with astonishment as she, too, took in the change in him.
For long, timeless seconds the two of them stared across the short distance that separated them. Sabrina left the room quietly.
They never even knew when she departed, Lupe moving like a creature in a dream from the doorway toward Ollie as Sabrina brushed past her. Just before she shut the door, Sabrina turned, intending to make some encouraging comment, but the sight of Lupe's small hands tenderly exploring Ollie's besotted features, the soft glow in Ollie's eyes as he stared down into Lupe's upturned face, brought a lump to Sabrina's throat, making speech impossible. Quietly she shut the door behind her, and slowly, thoughtfully, she made her way to the inner courtyard.
The initial pleasure of Ollie's unexpected appearance was fading slightly, and with it came a deep sense of uneasiness. Did Ollie carry some message from Brett? Would there at last be an end to this terrible limbo?
She hadn't expected Francisca to be happy about Ollie's arrival, but Sabrina hadn't been prepared for an outburst of hatred and fury. She was seated under the pine tree at the iron table in the courtyard when Sabrina approached, and the black eyes murderous with rage, Francisca demanded, ''Is it true? That the gringo's companion is here? That you allowed him to enter this house?"
"Yes, it is true," Sabrina replied levelly. "And yes, I did invite him in—after all, it is my home."
Francisca's mouth thinned. "Only if that devil-gringo, Dangermond, decrees it is so!" she spat venomously. It was the last really coherent thing she said—from there her comments evolved into the usual nearly insane monologue of rage against Alejandro and Dangermond.
Sabrina listened wearily for a few minutes, and then, unable to stand it any longer, she said sharply, "Cease! The situation is unpleasant enough without you making it more so! And insulting my father's memory does neither of us any good!"
Francisca's outburst effectively banished Sabrina's enjoyment of Ollie's arrival, and, her fists clenched in anger, she strode swiftly away, seeking the solitude of her room. But in her room she found no peace, her thoughts going immediately to speculation about what Ollie's presence might mean to her. That Lupe, whom she held in an affectionate high regard, might be leaving her never even entered her mind. Nor did it occur to her that Lupe's reluctance to desert a much-loved mistress might cause trouble between the newly reunited lovers.
But one look at Lupe's stormy face, half an hour later when the girl marched into the room, alerted her that something had gone wrong. Very wrong.
Rising up from the stool on which she had been seated, Sabrina asked with concern, "Lupe? What is it? Why do you look so unhappy? Your Ollie has returned, and after listening to you moon over him for years, listening to your worries that he would find someone else, that he would never come back for you, I would have thought you would be ecstatic."
Lupe's big eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Senorita, I was so happy! And he has grown into such a man that I knew my heart had been right in waiting for him"—she glanced miserably across at Sabrina's worried face—"but he wants me to leave you! To come back with him to New Orleans." Her face crumpled, and sobbing, she ran to fling her arms around Sabrina's waist, "I love him so much!" Lupe cried. "And I have waited and hoped so long for his return, but now I am torn in two! I cannot bear to leave you, my family, my friends, everything I have ever known, and travel so far away with a man I barely know. I love him," she said earnestly, "but I don't know him."
Sabrina's face twisted with pain. So she had loved Brett Dangermond, but she hadn't known him either. Sighing, she gently disengaged herself from Lupe's embrace. "Don't cry, my dear. I'm sure that Ollie will understand if you explain everything to him. Besides," she continued with a slight smile, "nothing has to be decided immediately, does it? We must plan your wedding, and that will take time. Don't worry. When you marry your Ollie everything will be just fine."
Sabrina wished she were as confident as she sounded, but her words must have convinced Lupe, because the tears dried instantly. "Oh, Senorita! I knew that you would understand! And that you would have the solution."
Smiling wryly, Sabrina turned away and asked, "Where is Ollie now? You didn't send him away, did you?"
Lupe looked horrified. "Oh, no! I could not send him away when he has just arrived; it would not be kind! Besides, he has said that he will not leave without me!"
Ollie repeated that statement some minutes later when Sabrina came downstairs and met him in the small sala where he was waiting for her. "Miss," he said bluntly, "I'm not leaving here without her." Bewilderedly he added, "I just don't understand her! Here she is happy as a lark to see me, promises to marry me, and then when I mention living with the guvnor, she turns all Friday-face. Women!"
Finding it a bit strange to act as a lovers' peacemaker, Sabrina said soothingly, "Give her time, Ollie. Your arrival has been a great surprise for all of us."
"But I said I'd be back!" he protested. "And she must have believed it, because she's waited all this time."
Sabrina nodded her head slowly. "I know. But it's one thing to dream of something, to long for it with all your heart, and another to have it presented to you. We Spanish have a proverb—'Be careful what you ask God for . . . He may give it to you.' Don't you understand, you must give her a little time to get used to you again—she was a child when you left."
The Tiger Lily Page 31
