Silver Surrender--Jarrett Family Sagas--Book Two

by Vivian Vaughan

  “I’m sorry, Relie,” Pia finished, after she had related the mishap at the cathedral. “I didn’t intend to let it slip.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She sighed heavily, and Señora Velez admonished her to hold still and breathe normally.

  “That’s difficult to do,” she retorted, “with my brother determined to ruin my life.”

  “He means well, Relie,” Pia defended Santos.

  “Well, he should keep his well-meant intentions to himself. I tell you, he brings out the worst in me. Two minutes around him, and I’m acting like a child. Even in front of Carson…”

  She glanced at Zita, her words trailing off.

  “Don’t mind me,” Zita laughed. “Pia filled me in. As if I couldn’t tell by looking.”

  “Tell what?” Aurelia gasped.

  Zita laughed. “That you are head over heels in love, that’s what.”

  “Me?”

  Zita rolled her eyes, and Pia sighed.

  Aurelia shook her head. When she spoke, her voice echoed the amazement she felt inside. “Maybe I am falling in love. I’m so confused.” She paused to blink back tears. “That’s why the Guanajuato trip is so important. I must see how he reacts to Guanajuato. If he could enter the charriada and win—”

  “Relie!” Zita stopped her. “Don’t tell me you are playing games with that man. He’s in love with you. Whether you care anything about him or not, he’s too nice a person, too trusting—”

  “You sound like Santos,” Aurelia snapped.

  “We know you wouldn’t intentionally lead him on, Relie,” Pia added, “but if you aren’t certain how you feel—”

  “Are you certain, Pia? Is anyone ever certain? I’m so confused I don’t know what to think. All I know is I’m different than I was before…before I met him. When I’m with him everything is wonderful, and when we’re apart I feel desperate and lonely and…I guess it’s the security he gave me after…” She stopped, conscious of Señora Velez’s presence.

  “Security, my foot,” Zita replied.

  “He’s probably right,” Aurelia said. “Maybe it is the danger I seek, living on the edge.”

  “Whatever you decide to call it,” Pia informed her, “it sounds like love to me.”

  “Don’t worry, Relie,” Zita added. “Carson Jarrett is a man who knows how to handle any situation.”

  “If he wants to,” she sighed, feeling more unprecedented tears well in her eyes. “He acts like all he wants is to get away from me.”

  “Here, here.” Señora Velez stuffed a handkerchief into Aurelia’s hand. “Don’t be crying on this lace. It came all the way from Spain, and we don’t have time to send for more.”

  Aurelia blew her nose into the handkerchief. “What I need is to get him away from Santos.”

  Her friends laughed.

  “You will find a way,” Zita assured her.

  “You’ve always been able to solve your problems,” Pia encouraged.

  Aurelia laughed then. For some reason she felt much better than when she had left the patio, as though a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The girls were right. She could find a solution; she just had to set her mind to it.

  The dressmaker finished, and by the time Aurelia redressed, the first bell to dinner had sounded.

  “And I have to sit beside Enrique.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Zita whispered when they neared the drawing room where the men had assembled. “But you could find me a handsome charro in Guanajuato.”

  “That’s a promise,” Aurelia replied.

  Inside the drawing room Carson, Santos, and Enrique were engaged in a serious discussion of some sort. Seeing the women, Enrique immediately separated himself from the group.

  “Relie dear, how lovely you look. A brandy?”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice. Her gaze went straight to Carson’s warm brown eyes and tears brimmed in hers.

  The moment Enrique turned to pour her brandy, Carson was by her side. With his back to the others in the room, he lifted her fingers to his lips, squeezed them when they trembled in his hand, then, as briefly, turned her loose. “You’re doing fine, angel.”

  “I can’t…”

  “Consider it another disguise,” he whispered. “You’ll make it.”

  “I don’t want to.” She twisted her linen handkerchief in her hands, striving to keep from reaching for Carson. If only she could touch him, she knew her trembling would still. Her brain was filled with one thought: She must tell him she loved him.

  It had occurred to her during the fitting upstairs that he might not know. He should, of course, after all they had been through together, but she had never told him. Now she longed to. It was all she could think about.

  That and Guanajuato.

  When Enrique returned, Carson remained at her side, drawing Zita and the others into the broader circle. “I may come down to the mint for a tour in the next few days,” he told Enrique.

  “Heard you were planning to take up mining. You interested in starting a mint, too?”

  Carson grinned. “I doubt my government would allow such a project. No, I’m just the curious sort. Thought since I will be around until the wedding, I should grab the chance to see a mint in action.”

  Enrique sipped the brandy, then swished the liquid in his mouth, pondering the situation.

  “Of course, if it’s trouble—” Carson began.

  “It’s no trouble, Jarrett,” Santos spoke up. “As a guest of the family, you are welcome at Casa de Moneda. Enrique will be proud to show you anything you want to see. Isn’t that right, Enrique?”

  “By all means,” Enrique mumbled. “Be sure to send word ahead, so I will be present to personally conduct your tour.”

  “Even the books,” Santos suggested. “Might find it interesting to see how a mint sets up business.”

  Enrique frowned. “No different than any other business.” He took another swig of brandy. “But if you are interested, sure. Let me know ahead of time, so I can free myself to show you around.”

  Enrique turned his attention to Aurelia then, and Zita seized the moment to maneuver Carson across the room.

  “I want you to know something,” she half whispered. “Relie promised to find me a charro in Guanajuato.”

  Carson cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t need Aurelia’s help, Zita. You are perfectly capable of finding your own charro or anyone else you take a fancy to.”

  She smiled. “Thank you for being so kind.”

  “I am not kind, I’m right.”

  “I know.” A shy blush crept up her cheeks. “I would never have thought such a thing if it hadn’t been for you.”

  “Me?” He stared at her a moment, then understood. “Why, ma’am, if I had a hand in convincing you of your true beauty and worth, why, my trip will have been well worthwhile.”

  She laughed, her composure regained. “Your trip will be worthwhile for yourself, too.”

  He frowned.

  “I’m on your side.”

  “I appreciate that. It helps to have one ally in this bunch.”

  “You have two—Pia and me.”

  “Yes, ma’am, my case is definitely lookin’ up.” But as he ushered her in to dinner, he wondered whether that was good or bad. After this afternoon he knew one thing: It would be harder now than before to leave here without Aurelia.

  Glancing around the opulent room, he added something else to the list. It would be damned hard for him to make a life for himself in a place like this. He wouldn’t even entertain such a notion, except for her.

  They took the same places at dinner that they had the evening before. Tonight, however, Padre Bucareli and Sister Inéz were not present, so Carson and Zita sat directly opposite Aurelia and Enrique.

  Aurelia concentrated on her plate and, for the most part, picked at her food. Zita and Pia were right. She had always been able to find a solution to her problems. Yet, try as she might, she couldn’t decide how to persuade Santos to
allow Carson to come with them to Guanajuato.

  By the time dessert arrived she had almost given up, thinking she would have to bluntly tell Santos the truth—that she had no intention of going to Guanajuato or anywhere else without Carson.

  Then Santos opened the subject.

  “Relie and I will be leaving for Guanajuato in the morning.”

  She leaned down the table, smiling sweetly at her brother. “And Carson.”

  He shot her a warning with his eyes. “No, Relie. Jarrett is staying here.”

  She turned her attention to Carson, continuing to speak to her brother. “He wants to enter the charriada, Santos. Surely you won’t keep him from it.”

  Carson shook his head. “Santos is right. I need to stay here.”

  “He can enter rodeos in Texas.” Santos spoke as though the subject were closed. “He wants to learn something about mining while he has the chance.”

  “Rodeos and charriadas are vastly different,” she objected, still staring at Carson, begging for help.

  At length he grinned. “Are you doubting my ability to compete with your charros, señorita? Is that what this is all about? You want to pit me against those magnificent horsemen to show me up?”

  Her eyes danced. “No, señor. But you must be afraid to enter, else a few days in a dusty old mine wouldn’t stop you.”

  The table dropped into silence at her unpardonable accusation. Carson held her gaze with one so intense she trembled. Not from fear. There was no anger in his eyes. Only recognition. For before she finished speaking, he had rolled his eyes around the opulent room, then settled them back on her.

  She knew what he feared. She could read his expression as clearly as if it had been printed in the newspaper. She feared it herself.

  But she feared losing him more, much more than she feared the unknown destination toward which they were propelling themselves at breakneck speed.

  Animated gibberish erupted from either side of them.

  “Hear now, daughter,” Don Domingo admonished. “Jarrett is a guest of your brother.”

  “She didn’t mean to say afraid,” Doña Bella hurried to assure Carson.

  “Relie!” Pia and Zita sighed from either side of the table.

  “The charriada isn’t for ten days yet,” Santos admitted through clenched teeth. “Perhaps Jarrett can follow us later.”

  Carson spoke quietly into the melee, straight to her challenging eyes. “Well, angel, since you put it that way, guess I’ll have to show up and set the record straight. Otherwise I would disgrace the whole corps of Texas Rangers.”

  Enrique remained a silent observer until the very end, when one word swished from his lips. “Angel?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Santos, Aurelia, and Aurelia’s maid, María, arrived in Guanajuato on the opening day of the feria, having left Pepe in charge of the herd of brave black bulls at the Plaza de Toros, the bullring. They were eager to arrive at the home of their relatives by early afternoon.

  Even though more than ten days had passed since they left Catorce, Aurelia could still think of little besides her last meeting with Carson the evening before their departure.

  Oh, he had been present to wish them a safe trip the morning they left, but there had been no chance to exchange more than a few desperate looks and for her to issue a second warning for him to be careful of Nuncio Quiroz.

  For a while the evening before, she had despaired of stealing a single moment alone with him. In the end, that was about all she was allowed. After Santos left to escort Pia and Zita to their homes, Don Domingo remained in the drawing room with Carson, discussing mine activities. He insisted that Aurelia retire, and finally she had done so.

  At that point she had not given up hope of seeing Carson later, but no sooner had her father prepared to retire than Santos returned. The two friends sat in the patio well into the night, drinking cerveza and strumming guitars.

  Aurelia huddled in an alcove on the second-floor landing, scrunching behind a marble pillar where she would be out of sight of passersby. Surely Carson knew she would attempt to see him.

  Surely he wanted to kiss her good night.

  She discovered the answer to the last concern when Santos excused himself to fetch more cerveza. Since they had already been drinking an hour or so, Aurelia decided her brother might take the opportunity to do more than bring more beer, so she tiptoed down the stairs and called to Carson from a darkened corner beneath the massive staircase.

  He crossed the floor, reaching her in two paces. Taking her in his arms, he settled into the shadows and kissed her with eager lips. His arms tightened around her, molded her to him, weakening her with the want of him.

  Clad only in a flowing white cotton nightgown and matching wrapper, her body fairly cried for his. At the feel of her near-nude body, he groaned.

  She snuggled closer. “I’m sorry for calling you a coward at dinner.”

  He chuckled against her. “You hit the nail on the head. I’m plumb scared to death of what we’re getting ourselves into.”

  “I am, too,” she admitted. “But I’m more afraid of being away from you.”

  He kissed her in acknowledgment, delving deeply into her sweetness, exciting her and himself to limits he knew were futile here in the patio. He drew back.

  “Will you truly come to Guanajuato?” she whispered.

  He kissed her face, one cheek then the other, one eye then the other, nestling his lips among the scattered strands of hair across her forehead. “After I discover what’s going on at the mine—what game Nuncio Quiroz is playing and who else has a hand in it.”

  At Quiroz’s name, she tensed. “Please be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “Promise you won’t fight him just to…just because of me.”

  He hugged her more tightly to him, recalling the anger that had welled inside him at the sight of the man. “I won’t, angel. But it will be the hardest damned thing I’ve ever done.”

  “You have to do it.” She traced her fingers over his face. “For me. I want you in Guanajuato alive and well.”

  He chuckled. “To compete against your fearsome charros?”

  “To be with me. You can’t deny me this.”

  He stiffened at the truth in her statement. “No, I can’t. That’s what has me worried.”

  “Worried?”

  “When the time comes, how will I ever say no to you?”

  Suddenly, bootsteps sounded in the hallway beyond the patio. Carson kissed Aurelia once more, then turned her toward the darkened staircase, sending her off with a swat to her bottom.

  When she reached the landing, she realized she hadn’t told him the one thing she had waited so long to say. That she loved him. Perhaps she should sit a while longer and catch him after Santos went to bed.

  “Where’ve you been?” she heard Santos question.

  Carson laughed. “One of these days I’m going to take offense to this obsession you have about your sister and me.”

  “I know it’s foolish,” Santos admitted with a sigh. “Pia lectured me proper about the same thing this afternoon. But damnit, Jarrett, you don’t know the half of what she’s capable of doing.”

  “I’ll have to admit, Aurelia is proficient in a number of areas,” he teased.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. I like to rile you, that’s all.”

  Santos’s voice turned from quarrelsome to somber. “Would you believe me if I told you that my sweet, innocent-looking little sister advised Pia to seduce me before the wedding?”

  Aurelia felt her face flush in the darkness. Below her, Carson let out a whoop of laughter loud enough to wake the household.

  “So, what’s the problem with that?” he questioned. “Makes a hell of a lot of sense.”

  “Nothing’s the matter with it, except it occurred to me that if she would advise her best friend to do such a thing, she might consider it for herself, too.”

  They resumed s
trumming guitars. Aurelia leaned her head against the pillar, waiting with held breath for Carson’s response. Pleasant sounds of water splashing in the fountain merged with the sometimes gay, sometimes plaintive notes of the music.

  When at length Carson replied, she heard no jesting in his voice.

  “I think we’ve ridden this dead horse long enough, partner. Do you figure I’d be callous enough to make love to your sister and then admit it to you—or to anybody, for that matter? If I ever took Aurelia to bed, it would be between the two of us, private, special, and with…with…” He hedged so long she began to wonder what he was going to say. Then he said it. “…with a lot of love between us.”

  She heard the guitars strum again, first one, then the other, as though they were playing a duel, dancing around each other, tilting, maneuvering for position.

  “Hell, Santos,” Carson continued, “I figure I may have to fight that damned Quiroz over her one of these days. I don’t want to have to whip you, too.”

  Finally, Santos laughed, not heartily at first, but a sick kind of laugh that gained strength the longer he tried. “That’ll be a cold day in hell. But I worry about her, Jarrett. Can’t help it. She’s my kid sister, after all.”

  “You’re right to worry about her. I would, too. I will while she’s off with those damned charros in Guanajuato. But you’re wrong about one thing. She’s no kid anymore. She’s a woman. A beautiful, strong, passionate woman. Like I told her, she will make some lucky man a good catch one day.”

  “Not you?” Santos quizzed.

  “Not likely.”

  Aurelia went to bed on that, pondering it into the night. He did love her, she assured herself, she knew he loved her. But he still thought of them as being different. That’s what it was. That’s all it was. She was sure of it. But how was she ever going to change his mind?

  Santos and Aurelia arrived in Guanajuato with three hours to spare before the first event of the feria season, a performance of Bizet’s Carmen, a fairly new opera that was all the rage in Spain these days, their aunt assured them.

  Aurelia had to pinch herself several times while she dressed in a gold faille gown with an off-the-shoulder neckline and daring décolletage. The skirt draped in graceful folds around her hips, then extended to an embroidered train that was lined with black velvet. The gold pumps were tight and uncomfortable after her long hours in the saddle wearing made-to-measure boots.