Ecstasy's Promise (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  Victoria rose to her feet and started folding the blanket she had been sitting on. She tied it on to Rebel's saddle—for the last time, she told herself. Bodine had insisted she put on her dress that morning. "I refuse to deliver you to your grandmother dressed as a boy," Bodine had told her.

  Victoria mounted, and tried to settle herself comfortably. It was hard to ride in a dress. She wished for the sidesaddle she had left behind in Georgia.

  Bodine was throwing his leg over the saddle to mount, when they heard an ominous rattle. He knew in a flash that his horse had been struck by the rattlesnake. Bodine went flying through the air and landed with a thud on the ground. The horse thrashed about in agonizing pain.

  Before Victoria had time to think, she had dismounted and run to Bodine. He was lying so still, she was afraid to move him in case he had any broken bones. She lifted his head into her lap and brushed a lock of gray hair from his forehead. "Oh, Bodine, please wake up. You cannot be dead." She cradled him in her arms. "Bodine, Bodine, wake up.

  She laid him down gently and untied the blanket from Rebel's back, placing it under Bodine's head. She put her head to his chest and heard the strong steady heartbeat. Victoria wet her handkerchief with water from her canteen, and washed his face.

  Bodine groaned and slowly opened his eyes, focusing them on her face. "What happened, Victoria?"

  She smiled at him through her tears. "Lie still for a moment, Bodine. You have had a bad fall. Your horse was bitten by a rattler, I am afraid."

  He tried to raise his head, but was overcome by dizziness. He laid his head back on the blanket. "My gun . . . You have to shoot my horse. He is in pain," Bodine said weakly.

  Victoria shook her head in horror. "I cannot. Do not ask me to do it, Bodine. I cannot."

  "You must, Victoria."

  With shaking hands she unholstered his gun. She walked over to the horse who was lying still now. Victoria pointed the gun at his head, turned her eyes, and fired. It was over in a split second. She threw down the gun and cried hysterically. It had been easier to shoot the Yankee, she thought.

  When she could bring herself under control, Victoria returned to Bodine. He was so pale. She sat down beside him. He had lost consciousness again. "Oh, Bodine, wake up and tell me what to do," she cried. "I can stand anything but losing you."

  He seemed to slip in and out of consciousness. Victoria had not noticed that the sky had grown overcast, until a blast of thunder roared and a streak of lightning blazed across the sky. Little drops of rain fell to earth only to be swallowed up by the dry, thirsty soil.

  Victoria realized now that she had to take some action. She led Rebel over to where Bodine lay, and forced the horse down on his knees. The rain was falling harder now. The next time Bodine gained consciousness, Victoria helped him into Rebel's saddle. She laid his head forward on Rebel's neck, climbed up behind him, and urged the black stallion forward. She prayed she could hold Bodine's enormous frame in the saddle. Her strength and courage came from her love for the giant man who was as helpless as a baby now.

  Rebel raced forward as though he were unaware of the extra weight. The rain was beating down on them. Flashes of lightning lit up the sky around them. On they rode for what seemed an eternity. Just when Victoria felt she could go no farther, she saw a light in the distance, and urged Rebel forward. Bolting out of the saddle, she raced toward the crude cabin and banged on the door with all her might.

  Tears mingled with raindrops as she waited for an answer. The door opened and a man stood facing Victoria.

  "Please, you have to help me," she cried.

  "Perdoname, Senorita?" The man looked at her in surprise.

  "Please help me," Victoria sobbed. "Bodine is hurt. He is injured."

  The man looked over her shoulder to where he saw Bodine slumped over the saddle. "Si, Senorita," he said, as he followed her quickly to the unconscious Bodine. Taking command of the situation, he helped the big man from the saddle. Somehow, between the two of them, they managed to get Bodine into the house. A young woman, not much older than Victoria, helped them get Bodine into bed in a tiny bedroom off the kitchen.

  "What happened?" the man asked Victoria in heavily accented English.

  "A rattlesnake struck his horse and he was thrown. He has been in and out of consciousness."

  "The snake did not strike him, Senorita?"

  "No, no, it is the fall he is suffering from."

  "Senorita, you are not to worry; I will ride for the doctor." He turned and spoke to the woman rapidly in Spanish, which Victoria did not understand.

  The woman came over to Victoria and drew her out of the bedroom. "Senorita, my husband will put your father to bed. Then he will ride for the doctor."

  Victoria let the woman lead her to the open fireplace, where she sat down on a wooden bench, grateful for the warmth of the fire and the gentle Mexican woman who seemed so kind and concerned.

  Soon they were joined by the man. "I have made your father comfortable," he told Victoria. "I will now stable your horse and ride for the doctor. Please do not worry, my wife, Consuelo, will look after you.

  Victoria smiled at him gratefully, too tired to even respond. The man took a yellow mackintosh from a nail on the wall and pulled it over his head. Then he opened the door and rushed out into the driving rain.

  "I must go to Bodine," Victoria told the woman, Consuelo.

  "First, Senorita, you must get out of your wet clothes. It will not help your father if you become ill."

  Victoria saw the sense of what the woman said, and slipped out of her wet clothes and into the dry ones which Consuelo provided. Consuelo was much shorter than Victoria and much larger in the waist because she was expecting a child. The dress came up above Victoria's ankles and hung loosely about her waist. She was grateful for it, however, and thanked the Mexican woman.

  "You will eat something, now," Consuelo told her.

  "No, thank you, I must sit by Bodine."

  "Your father will be all right while you eat."

  "He is not my father," Victoria told her. "He is my dearest friend."

  Consuelo looked at her, puzzled.

  "I must go to him," Victoria told her. The Mexican woman did not try to dissuade her, but, instead, opened the door so she could enter the room where Bodine lay.

  The man had removed Bodine's wet clothes and covered him with a blanket. Victoria pulled up a stool and sat down beside him. She took his big hand in hers and held it to her face. Her tears fell onto his hand. How still he was, and how pale he looked.

  "Oh, Bodine, I could not bear it if anything happened to you." Victoria laid her head over on the bed and prayed to God to save Bodine's life. She did not doubt that Bodine had always been the source of her strength. From him she had drawn the courage to face untold danger. She could not remember a time when he had been ill. He was always so full of life.

  Victoria did not know how long she sat there praying, but she was suddenly aware of male voices in the outer room, and a stranger entered the bedroom. She rose to her feet.

  "I am Dr. Dan Owens, ma'am. If you will step in the other room, I will examine your father. Manuel told me that he fell from a horse; is that correct?"

  "Yes," Victoria said, with tears in her eyes. "Please help him, Doctor."

  Victoria left the doctor alone with Bodine and went into the front room. She smiled at the man and woman. "I am so grateful to you both for your kindness," she said weakly. "I do not know what I would have done without your help."

  The man brushed this aside. "It was nothing, Senorita."

  "Nonetheless, I am grateful. My name is Victoria Lee Farraday, and the man who is injured is my friend, Bodine."

  "I am pleased to meet you, Senorita Farraday. I am Manuel Delgado, and this is my wife, Consuelo."

  Victoria smiled. "How can I ever repay your kindness?"

  "For one thing," the woman said, "you can come over to the fire and warm yourself. Your hair is still very wet."

  Vict
oria allowed the woman to lead her to the fireplace, and she sat on the wooden bench that she had occupied earlier.

  "Will you eat now, Senorita?" Consuelo asked.

  "No, I cannot eat until I know Bodine is going to be all right," Victoria told her.

  "The doctor is a very fine man, Senorita Farraday. He will fix your friend as good as new."

  Just then the doctor came out, rolling his sleeves down. He came over to Victoria. She waited for him to speak.

  "Your father has had a nasty fall, but he will be fine. He has regained consciousness and is suffering from a mild concussion. He will have a bad headache for a few days, but I have left medication for him."

  Relief flooded through her. "I am so grateful that he is going to be all right. How can I thank you, Doctor?"

  He looked down at her. She was a pathetic-looking girl, he thought. Her hair was wet and plastered to her face. Her eyes were red from crying, and he could not even tell if she had a shape from the way her dress hung on her. He felt pity for the poor, unfortunate girl.

  "What do I owe you, Doctor?" Victoria asked.

  He looked at her and doubted she could pay his fee. "Nothing, ma'am. I did not really do anything for him. There is not much for a doctor to do in such cases. Nature is the only healer."

  "But I insist," she said. "You rode out here in the rain.

  "That is part of being a doctor," he told her.

  Victoria could see that there was no sense in arguing with him, so she decided to ask him if he knew her grandmother. "Doctor, are you acquainted with Alice Anderson?" she asked.

  "Well, yes, I am," he said. "I know her very well. Why do you ask?"

  "She is my grandmother," Victoria told him. She watched as the doctor's eyes widened.

  "How can that be?" he said. "I did not know that she had a granddaughter."

  Victoria studied the doctor. He was not a tall man, but was nice looking with brown hair and soft hazel eyes. She had been struck by his kindness and had liked him at once.

  "My name is Victoria Lee Farraday, and the man in the other room is not my father, as you supposed, but is almost like a father to me. We have come from Georgia to find my grandmother. Would it be possible for you to get word to her that I am here?" she asked, smiling.

  "Of course," he told her. "I will tell her myself. She is a good friend of mine. In fact, I call her Mammaw."

  Victoria smiled. "Bodine told me that many people refer to her as Mammaw."

  "He was right," the doctor said. "Your grandmother is well-thought-of around here. Is she expecting you?" he asked.

  "No, it will be a complete surprise to her," Victoria told him.

  "A welcome one, I can assure you," he said. "Now, if you will excuse me, Miss Farraday, I will be on my way."

  "Senor Doctor," Consuelo spoke up. "Can I not offer you a bite to eat?"

  "Some other time, Mrs. Delgado. I must get back to town now." He smiled at Victoria. "I will get word to your grandmother, and do not worry about Mr. Bodine; he will be fine. Do not disturb him tonight; just let him rest."

  He left as quickly as he had come. As he rode back to town, he pondered what Miss Farraday had told him. She had sure been a homely little thing; but nice enough, he thought.

  Manuel insisted that Victoria eat something and this time she agreed. "Senorita Farraday," Manuel told her as she ate, "your horse would not let me remove his saddle."

  "I had forgotten Rebel," Victoria said. "He will not allow many people near him. I will have to unsaddle him myself."

  "I will carry the lantern for you," Manuel said. "I am afraid it is still raining." Manuel insisted that Victoria wear his mackintosh. When they returned from the barn, she found that Consuelo had cleared the dishes and made pallets on the floor. Consuelo pulled back a curtained section of the room to reveal a sleeping child, lying on a crude wooden bed.

  "Roberto," she told Victoria softly.

  Victoria smiled at the sleeping child. “He is beautiful," she said gently.

  "Thank you, Senorita,” Consuelo told her proudly.

  Victoria noticed that the small cabin only had two rooms, and Bodine occupied the only bedroom. "I am so sorry to put you out of your bed," Victoria said to Consuelo.

  "You are not to worry, Senorita. See, I made your pallet in the corner. Manuel will hang up a curtain so you will have privacy. We will not mind sleeping on the floor. I have slept in far worse," Consuelo said.

  Victoria was overcome by the kindness shown to her by the two Delgados. She could tell by her surroundings that they were very poor, yet they gladly shared all they had with her. She lay down on the pallet, her weary body aching for sleep. She would pay them back for their kindness, she vowed.

  These Texans had opened their home to her and Bodine, and had gone out of their way to help them. Victoria hoped that her grandmother would come for her tomorrow. She fell asleep wondering what their meeting would be like.

  5

  Dr. Dan Owens drove his buggy through the big gates of Rio del Lobo. The gates were made of heavy wrought iron in which the design of a wolf, the symbol of the Hanover empire, was woven in intricate detail. He rode up the driveway and stopped before the huge Spanish ranch house, which stood on two acres of manicured lawn. Dan always wondered how they kept it so green in the years when there was a drought. It took four gardeners to keep it up. The house itself was beautiful, a huge two-story, white Spanish hacienda, with a bright-red tile roof. Dan walked up to the massive front door, and lifted the heavy knocker which was in the shape of a wolf.

  He and Edward Hanover had been friends since boyhood. Dan was the son of the local doctor, who, more often than not, had been paid for his services in eggs or livestock rather than money. The fact that Dan was poor and Edward was extremely wealthy had no effect on their friendship, however. In fact, Edward's father had paid for Dan to study medicine at an eastern university. He had asked only that Dan practice medicine in Cedarville. That had been no hardship to Dan, since he loved his hometown and the people in it.

  The door was opened by Juanita, Edward's plump Mexican housekeeper. Her black hair was braided and wound around her head neatly. Her plump face was drawn up in a worried frown. "Senor Doctor, come in," she greeted Dan in a voice full of concern.

  "What kind of a welcome is that, Juanita? You look as if you just lost your best friend."

  She shook her head and clicked her tongue. "Senor Eduardo is in a very bad mood. He came home in a rage and has shut himself in his study."

  Dan smiled at her. "I have weathered these storms before, Juanita."

  She nodded her head in agreement. "Si, Senor Doctor. You and no one else."

  "You go on with whatever you were doing, Juanita. I will announce myself."

  Dan rapped on the study door, opened it, and entered. Edward was sitting at his desk and looked at him with a scowl on his handsome face. "Oh, it's you," he said sourly.

  "Shall I go out and come in again?" Dan teased. "What has got your back up?"

  "Damned incompetence," Edward answered, rising to his feet. "I am surrounded by incompetence."

  Dan seated himself in a leather chair and studied his friend. His actual name was Eduardo Antonio Hanover. Edward was tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders that rippled with muscles, and tapered to a trim waist. His long lean legs were firm from many hours in the saddle. His ebony-colored hair was swept carelessly across his forehead. Edward's eyes were deep brown, fringed with long black lashes. His chin was stubborn, with a slight cleft in it. Black sideburns framed his face, tan from the hours he spent in the sun. He had gotten his dark good looks from his Spanish mother, and his height and broad shoulders from his English father.

  When Edward had been sixteen, his father had insisted on sending him to England to complete his education. He had been a wild and untamed youth, but when he returned from England, he was polished and sophisticated.

  Edward chose to wear English-styled clothing, as his father had, instead of dressing as his fe
llow Texans did. He wore a white silk shirt, and tight-fitting pants hugged his long legs. The pant legs were tucked inside highly polished, black English boots.

  There was a magnetism about Edward which seemed to draw the ladies, both young and old. Men respected him and gave him a wide berth when the occasion called for it. He had been spoiled; as an only child, his father and mother had given him whatever he wanted. He was used to getting his own way. Yet, he was a friend who could be depended upon, and Dan loved him like a brother.

  "You should see yourself." Dan laughed. "You have got poor Juanita frightened to death."

  Edward waved this aside. "Do you know what has happened?"

  "No, suppose you tell me."

  "No one will admit it, but someone left the gate open and Rafael's pinto got into the corral with my champion mare. I do not have to tell you the consequences."

  Dan threw back his head and laughed. "All this commotion because some stud got to your prize mare."

  Edward glared at him. "I have been waiting to breed her with just the right stud. Now her foal will be worthless. What do you think a foal sired by a common cow pony will produce?"

  "A superior cow pony, I suppose." Dan laughed.

  "Why don't you just stick to your doctoring? It is for sure you don't know anything about horses."

  "I bow to your superior knowledge, Edward. All I know about horses is which end to feed, and which end to shovel."

  Edward's stormy features softened. He even managed to smile. "Dan, I do not know how we have managed to stay friends over the years."

  "It is because you cannot bully me with your bad temper as you do everyone else."

  "Perhaps," Edward said, as he poured a brandy for Dan and one for himself. Dan took the glass Edward offered, took a drink, and placed the glass on the desk. He sat, thoughtful for a moment, and then asked: "Do you apply the same principle to yourself as you do to your thoroughbred stock?"

  "In what way?"

  "When you marry, will your wife have to come from superior stock to mingle with your own?"

  "Are you serious?"

  "Very."