She hugged herself for the pure joy of being home in Catorce, of being alive today, of Carson’s being here, of Pia’s approaching marriage.
No matter that Carson didn’t want to work at the mine. There was always the mint. Or even Texas. She laughed aloud, lifting her face to the blue, blue sky, inhaling deep drafts of cool mountain air.
She wondered what the Texas prairies were like. Santos had come home saying the weather was hot as Hades. She laughed again. It would be hot, all right. With her and Carson in the same country, the temperature was bound to rise.
Then rounding a corner, her reveries stopped short. Her joyous homecoming fell, shattered like a looking glass smashed viciously against a wall.
Her heart pounded.
She fought the chest to which she was pressed.
Dug her head into it.
Kicked her feet.
She bit the arm of Nuncio Quiroz. Jumping away, he stuffed a rolled piece of cloth inside her mouth, then shook her shoulders until her shawl fell to the street. “Make a sound and you are dead.”
The words seemed unreal, dreamlike, far away.
“Turn me loose.” Her demand died in the foul-tasting fabric inside her mouth. She struggled to free herself, to kick at him. But his superior strength held her easily.
He leered lasciviously at her, his eyes lingering on her breasts until she shuddered with the remembrance of his vile mouth upon them.
“Remember how it felt, Miss Uppity-Uppity? Wet and hot? Next time I will show you a few more tricks.”
She tried to scream, felt as if she were choking. Bile rushed to her throat.
“But not today,” he continued. “Today I must disappoint you. All you get today is a warning. Tell anybody about that chapel, so much as a hint, mind you, and you are good as dead. You and that brother of yours and his Ranger friend. All three of you. Dead.”
He threw her against the building, then released her with all but his eyes. She stared at him, seeing nothing. Her eyelids felt as though they had been propped opened. The cool mountain air dried her eyeballs. They stung.
Her brain felt dead.
Dead.
“Hear me?”
She tried to nod, but even her neck felt paralyzed.
“Don’t think we won’t do it. There are a lot of ways to kill folks in these mountains. Nobody would ever be the wiser.”
She knew he was right. She tried to think.
“And you, puta. You will belong to me.” Again his eyes traveled her body, resting on her breasts. Suddenly, he grabbed her arms, holding both wrists in one hand while he ran the other over her gown, across her breasts, her belly, and down, cupping his palm against her in a despicable manner, then returning to her breasts, one of which he pinched until she finally managed to squeeze her eyes closed. Her scream was trapped behind the filthy rag stuffed in her mouth.
Then he was gone.
For a moment all she could do was lean against the wall and tremble. When her legs sagged and she began to slide down the wall, she caught herself. By fierce determination, she straightened her back, edging upwards against the rough plaster wall until she stood erect.
For a moment she couldn’t open her eyes. Panic gripped her. How would she get home if she couldn’t see?
She made it, of course. She forced her eyelids open and made it all the way home and to her bedchamber without seeing another person. Fiercely, she stripped the clothing from her body, wrapped herself in a heavy robe, and fell onto the bed, where she lay until the first bell for dinner sounded.
By the time Aurelia descended the stairs, she had composed herself. Bathed and gowned in yellow faille, she steeled herself behind an outer wall of serenity. She knew what she must do.
She must never tell anyone about her encounter with Nuncio Quiroz. If she did, she could well get either Santos or Carson or both of them killed. It was over, she told herself. She would not go out alone again until the matter was solved. She would take care.
And she would keep her frightening experience a secret.
But when she reached the bottom step and saw Carson sitting on the edge of the fountain, a guitar across his thigh, her resolve faltered. All she wanted was to rush across the foyer and throw herself into his comforting embrace.
To feel his arms around her, holding her tight, loving her, protecting her. She stiffened at that last thought. She must protect him.
He came to her, offering his hand, singing softly. “I knew she was an angel who would steal my heart from me.”
Tears brimmed suddenly. Memories flooded her brain. Warm memories, of meeting him in the jailhouse, of him serenading her in the plaza in Guanajuato.
Cold memories, of the first time he had called her angel and of her reply, that she was no angel.
And of the reason she had said it.
As things turned out, it hadn’t been true then.
Por Santa Cecilia! It must never become true.
Chapter Eighteen
Through the busy days that followed, Aurelia smothered her horrible secret beneath houseguests and parties and preparations for Pia and Santos’s wedding.
The day after their return to Catorce, family members began arriving. Soon the Mazón mansion overflowed with guests. Santos and his attendants—eleven charros and one Texas Ranger—moved to quarters at the rear of the compound, leaving the bedrooms inside the mansion for aunts, uncles, and cousins, all of whom Aurelia wanted to meet Carson.
But although several charros could be found in the house at any given time during the day, strumming guitars and generally enjoying themselves, Carson made himself scarce.
Even at meals, when she was forced to sit beside Enrique and respond graciously to his prattle, Carson remained outside, where he ate at one of the many tables set along the porches to accommodate the overflow of guests.
That he was staying out of sight of the Reinaldos who arrived a week before the wedding, she knew. She also knew she had never felt quite so lonely as during those hectic days when no matter how busy her hands, no matter how occupied her time by family and friends, no matter how the ever-present Enrique tried to engage her attention, she longed for a glimpse of Carson, for a brief touch of his hand, for the brush of his lips against her own. Finally, she cornered Santos.
“Tell him to at least come to the comedor for breakfast,” she insisted.
He shook his head. “It’s best this way, Relie. Let everyone think you are going along with their plans for you and Enrique. Direct their attention while Jarrett and I wrap things up. It won’t be long now.”
She sighed. “Tía Guadalupe has been pressing to have the engagement announced at your rehearsal dance.”
Santos squeezed her shoulder. “We won’t let that happen. Don’t worry.”
“I told her it wouldn’t be fair to you and Pia. She seemed to understand.”
As the days passed, Aurelia lived for the wedding rehearsal. She would see Carson there. She would touch him. Since they were maid of honor and best man, they would stand together, walk up the long aisle arm in arm. And he would dance with her afterwards at the baile. Surely he would dance with her.
The morning of the rehearsal, she awoke with her stomach aquiver, knowing that this day she would be with him, for however brief a time. Even when she ran into Tía Guadalupe on the stairs going down to breakfast, her spirits did not dim.
“You are up early,” Aurelia teased.
“To speak with you, dear. We have plans to lay. Bella and Domingo agree that the announcement will be made tonight.”
“But—?”
“I know how you feel, Relie. You are thoughtful to consider your brother, to be sure, but it isn’t fair to your uncle and me. Think about it. We want to be present for the announcement. You cannot expect us to travel all this way again in such a short time.”
“It doesn’t have to be a short time, Tía.”
Guadalupe hugged an arm around Aurelia’s stiffened shoulders, guiding her downstairs to the comedor, whi
ch was vacant of diners except for Don Domingo and Luís Reinaldo.
Before Aurelia could but mumble “Buenas días,” Tío Luís rose from his chair, drew one for her, and her aunt deposited her in it.
“We have a little something for you, dear,” Tía Guadalupe said.
While the two of them perched over her like hawks, her uncle by marriage handed her a jewel case that felt cold and looked familiar.
“Open it, dear. Open it,” her aunt urged.
Aurelia stared across the table at her father, her signal of distress either unnoticed or unacknowledged.
“Where is Mamá?” she asked him.
“She is busy, Relie.” Don Domingo indicated the jewel box. “Open the gift. Your aunt and uncle are eager to see you open it.”
Her hands gripped the box so tightly Tío Luís finally tugged it from her grasp, whereupon Tía Guadalupe opened it herself, setting it in the center of Aurelia’s silver service plate. A gray brocade box. Lined with black velvet.
Upon which gleamed the abominable red rubies from Guanajuato.
“These belong to you,” Aurelia objected, striving to sound polite for her father’s sake.
“They are yours now, Relie,” Tío Luís purred, no sign of the belligerence she knew lay hidden beneath all that sugar.
“Your betrothal gift,” her aunt added.
Gift? She felt sick. These rubies were not a gift. She recalled with growing trepidation the scene in Guanajuato when she refused to wear them.
These rubies were no gift. They were a bribe…a warning for her to cease her resistance, for her to meekly accept the future they had laid out for her.
She wanted to scream, I will not marry your precious Enrique.
She wanted to cry.
She clasped cold fingers over her mouth. “Where is Mamá?”
“You must wear that ruby-red dress tonight, dear.”
Blood-red, she thought.
Her voice rose. “Where is my mother?”
“In the library with Santos,” her father said. “She will be along directly.”
Before either of her relatives could speak, she scooped the rubies in her hand, scraped back her chair, and raced to the library.
Seated at the desk at the far end of the room, her mother studied a set of ledger books. Santos stood over her left shoulder. Carson stood to the other side.
They glanced up at her entrance. She pursed her lips, striving to keep whatever wits she still possessed inside her brain. Quickly, she closed the double doors behind her, felt for the key, found it, and turned it in the lock.
She stood frozen against the door, her eyes pleading with Carson. Suddenly, he was there. Crossing the room, he stopped in front of her. His hands, his warm, loving hands, grasped her trembling shoulders.
She fell into his arms.
She heard her mother’s voice. “Relie, what—?”
Then Santos’s voice. “Bring her over here, Jarrett.”
With his strong arm supporting her, Carson walked her the length of the library, halting across the desk from her mother, who had now risen and watched the procession with a deepening frown.
Aurelia threw the rubies to the desk. They landed in a heap on top of the ledger book. Her mother stared, startled. Santos gaped.
Carson swore beneath his breath. “From Guanajuato?”
“You sold your daughter for these?” she demanded.
Tears streamed from her eyes. Her breath came short; she felt faint. Suddenly, she was in Carson’s arms, clutching him about the waist, her face buried in his chest, sobbing her heart out. His hand smoothed her hair, patted her head. His voice soothed.
“What is going on?” Doña Bella demanded.
Santos’s voice rumbled behind Aurelia, but all she could think was that she had found Carson. She drew her head back. “We can leave. We won’t let them do this. We can leave now.”
“Shh,” he murmured. “Of course we won’t let them do it.”
“But, Relie, you…” her mother began, then stopped. “You said you wouldn’t mind living in Catorce. Why do you object to the announcement tonight?”
“Sit her down, Jarrett,” Santos instructed. He turned to his mother. “She isn’t going to marry Enrique. As soon as we get these books figured out, she and Jarrett plan on getting married.” He looked at them where they sat side by side on the settee. Carson dried Aurelia’s tears with his handkerchief. “They may live in Catorce; then again, they may not.”
Doña Bella sank to her chair. “I don’t understand anything you said.”
“We need to keep things quiet until we figure out what’s happening at the mine,” Santos went on. He glanced at Carson. “Looks like we have about all the pieces, don’t you think?”
“We have guesses, no proof,” Carson answered.
Doña Bella stared aghast from her son to her daughter and their guest. At length, she started to rise. “I am going for your father.”
Santos gently pushed her back to her chair. “No, Mamá. Not yet.”
“But you can’t think—?”
“Like Jarrett says, we have no proof.”
“Proof of what?” she demanded, clearly aggravated now.
“That Tío Luís has been stealing from the mine.”
Doña Bella turned pale. “You are right about that. Domingo certainly would never believe such a thing. Neither do I.”
“That’s what they mean, Mamá.” Aurelia leaned back on the settee. Carson had moved to a more acceptable distance, but she still clutched his hands in both of hers. “You can’t go to Papá until we have proof. He would tell Tío Luís and Enrique and—”
“Enrique?” Her mother’s eyes widened.
“You discovered the discrepancies between the ore that was mined and the ore that was minted,” Santos told her.
“Errors in recording, not discrepancies. You know better than to question such things,” Doña Bella defended. “All ore does not test—”
“This did. We have the assay reports.”
“But how could Enrique have managed something so despicable? He didn’t even work at the mine. A theft cannot be accomplished with books alone.”
“They had a man at the mine. Nuncio Quiroz. Likely, he was involved in the mine’s problems even before Tío Luís sent Enrique.”
At Quiroz’s name, Aurelia tensed in spite of herself. She gripped Carson’s hand so tightly he responded.
“It’s all right,” he soothed. “You won’t have to see him.”
She felt new tears roll from her eyes; she squinched her lids together.
“If you persist,” Doña Bella worried aloud, “the wedding will be ruined, and the rehearsal as well.”
“No,” Santos told her. “With what we know now, there’s a possibility we can wrap things up by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is your wedding, Santos.” Doña Bella’s voice quivered.
“Mamá,” he soothed in a lighthearted tone, “you know the groom is not allowed to see his bride on the wedding day. I’ll have the whole day free.”
Doña Bella shook her head as if to rid it of such preposterous thoughts. Then she clutched it in her hands. “You must be wrong. You must be. Not Guadalupe’s husband. Not Enrique.”
“What we need is a way to call their hand,” Santos was saying. “If we could discover where they hid the ore and coins in transit, we could—”
“I know where,” Aurelia said suddenly.
All eyes turned to her.
“In the chapel. That’s what he meant.”
“What who meant?” Carson asked.
“Nuncio Quiroz.”
His hands tightened around hers. “Don’t think about that man. You won’t ever have to see him again.”
She stared into his distraught face. His warm brown eyes, so full of love, soothed her. She had fully intended to keep her meeting with Nuncio Quiroz a secret for life, but before she realized it, she had blurted out the entire story.
By the time she finished, tears a
gain streamed from her eyes. She wiped at them fiercely, her hands meeting Carson’s as he, too, attempted to stem the flow with a wet handkerchief and callused fingers.
“Relie, we told you not to go out alone,” Santos accused.
“It’s all right,” Carson soothed. “It’s over. He won’t bother you again.”
Fear flooded her senses. She stilled Carson’s hands with her own, holding them to her face while her eyes pleaded with him. “You won’t go after him?”
Their gazes locked. Messages of fear and sensuality created an aura around them, shutting out everyone else in the room. “Not until this is over, angel. Then I plan to whip him within an inch of his life.”
“And I’ll be right behind you,” Santos vowed.
“Children!” Doña Bella raised her voice above the others. “I demand an explanation.” She stared hard at Aurelia and Carson, missing not a thing. “For everything.”
They told her, for the most part, about the holdup, the breakout, the abduction—which was not an abduction but a measure to save Aurelia from the clutches of Nuncio Quiroz—by the prisoner who was none other than Carson himself.
“Relie? How could you?” Doña Bella propped her elbows on the desk and held her head in her hands.
Santos brought them each a glass of brandy, holding his mother’s while she dabbed her face with a lace-edged handkerchief.
“So you see, you cannot tell Papá until we gather enough facts to prove the case against them,” Santos was saying.
Doña Bella stared into the center of the room for ever so long. Finally, she heaved a great sigh. “All right. Here is what we will do. You two”—she indicated Santos and Carson—“may have today and tomorrow to gather your facts. After that, I will tell Domingo, whether you are ready for me to or not. And you must attend all wedding functions,” she added, then turned to Aurelia. “You will remain beside me at all times, except when Pia needs you. And you will be escorted to and from this house.”
Carson listened, amazed, unsure whether they had been chastised or issued marching orders from their general. He saw in a flash where Aurelia got her penchant for clandestine activities.
“As for the two of you…” When Doña Bella stared again at Aurelia and Carson, he thought her expression might have softened—a little. “…we will discuss that problem after we settle everything else.”
Silver Surrender--Jarrett Family Sagas--Book Two Page 29
