by DiAnn Mills
“Si,” Emilio said with a broad grin. “I like her.”
“Like her?” Armando laughed. “Like is what we felt as boys. Love is for a man.”
Emilio shrugged. “She cared for you a long time, but now it may be my turn.”
“I hope so, mi amigo,” Armando said. “I want to see you happy with many sons and daughters. You’ll make a good husband and father.”
Armando turned and braced himself against the back of the fence. The restlessness snapped at his heels like a hungry dog. How he longed to find peace in his life. At one time, he wanted to think Marianne could ease the need. But he was a loner, haunted by an anxiousness for which he knew no cure.
Chapter 18
Marianne rode Diablo until late morning. For more than an hour she’d wept, willing the tears to cease and her mind to ponder Armando’s request. A part of her wished they hadn’t met today, that she hadn’t been forced to face the impossibility and the frivolousness of their sharing a future together. She hurt beyond any pain caused by her father’s rejection.
Armando. She shivered at the thought of his nearness, and an image of him caused her head to spin as if she possessed a perpetual fever. As her tears dried, she permanently engraved his every feature in her mind, like a fine line of gold framing a priceless portrait. She would need his memory during the lonely days and nights certain to come. Granted, his undeniably handsome face sent her senses reeling, but she loved his heart more. How could such a good man be misunderstood by so many?
If she’d learned anything at all from her mother’s diligent instructions, it was the importance of judging a man by his character, not his comely or uncomely looks. Pondering these things, Marianne well recalled Armando’s love for the people of La Flor and his dedication to their happiness. He could have committed any number of atrocities against her while she remained his captive. For a moment she dwelled on the times he had been alone with her. He could have easily used her naïveté to steal her innocence. Instead, he saved her life in a raging fire, released her when others wanted her killed, and today urged her to marry Don Lorenzo despite his admittance of love. Those things proved him an honorable man, one worthy of any woman’s heart.
She reluctantly admitted that Armando’s manner of forcing Papa’s hand in the matter of the village showed a high disregard for the law, but she understood why. Not that Armando’s tactics were excusable. No, not by any means. He’d done wrong. Praise God, Governor Elguezábel had ruled with leniency. In the deep recesses of her heart, Marianne knew her father still plotted Armando’s death, just as Clay had said.
So Marianne rode and prayed, desiring God to reveal His purpose in her life. His word stated He had a wonderful plan, and she must simply trust in His provision.
Gazing up into a cerulean sky, she watched the billowing clouds roll away like dreams floating aimlessly by. She shook her head and looked to the plains where the outlines of the house and stables rose like monuments to her father’s power. Home. Duties. Responsibilities. She must come to terms with her feelings for Armando—not tomorrow, or on the day of her wedding to Don Lorenzo, but now. Whisking away the wetness flooding her eyes, she sat straighter in the saddle and prayed for strength to keep her resolve. Patting Diablo, she galloped toward the hacienda. Marianne needed to talk to her mother.
After relinquishing her stallion to Juan and changing clothes, she sought the company of her mother in the shade of the courtyard. Mama’s pallor appeared somewhat brighter lately, obviously due to her enthusiasm for the upcoming wedding.
“Mama, I’m so pleased to see you in the fresh air.” Marianne bent to place a light kiss on her cheek. “You have such a radiant glow about you. God is making you stronger every day.” Her mother held her Bible open to the book of Psalms.
“Thank you. I’m really trying to regain my health. Since we’re studying together, I want to memorize Scripture as I used to do.”
Marianne smiled. “What are you reading?”
“Psalm 61.” Her mother peered up into Marianne’s face. She wore a lavender morning dress, and seated amidst the greenery and flowers, she looked as young as a girl. “Daughter, did you ride Diablo without a companion this morning?”
Knowing she had willfully disobeyed, Marianne chose her words carefully. “Yes, Mama. Please accept my apologies, for I know it worries you.” She kneeled at her mother’s side. “I promise you I will never take Diablo out again without a proper escort.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “What has happened that you have decided this?”
She sighed and took a deep breath. If anyone deserved to know the truth, it was her mother. “I thought about many things today, and I wish to speak about them with you.”
Her mother tilted her head slightly, allowing a lock of light brown hair to curl down the side of her face. “Could it be you have realized your mama and papa do know what is best for you?” A smile curved her lips.
“Perhaps so.” Marianne relived the heaviness of the morning. “Are you strong enough for a stroll?”
Her mother nodded and rose to her feet. Linking arms, they walked through the stone archway and away from the main house.
“Mama,” she began, “I have some things I want to tell you—some of which will not be pleasant. But I beg you to listen until I have finished.”
“Does this have anything to do with your aloofness? Since the dreadful incident…when you were taken away, you have been so distant.”
“Yes, Mama, it does, and with you I cannot mask my feelings any longer.” She stopped and seized the courage to speak her heart. “Today, I had a chance meeting with Armando Garcia.”
Her mother gasped and paled, but Marianne continued. “I want you to know that Armando has done nothing to compromise my innocence. He is far more of a gentleman than you may believe. I don’t condone the things he has done. None of us will ever forget the horror of fearing for our lives when Felipe entered our home and abducted me. Yes, I have forgiven all of them. In place of revulsion for Armando, I found something I never expected.” She glanced into her mother’s troubled face. “I love Armando Garcia. I am as certain of it as I am of this moment with you. Today he spoke from his heart, and I must abide by his wishes.”
“Oh, Marianne.” Her mother broke into sobs.
“No, Mama, there is no need to fret any longer. He loves me as I do him, but he has asked me to fulfill my obligation to Don Lorenzo as his wife. Armando believes my place is with him.”
She felt her mother’s stiffened body relax.
“I have wept until I can weep no more, and I have no choice but to obey Papa. To refuse is to break the commandment to honor my mother and my father. I will marry the don without argument, and I’ll do my best to be a good wife.” Marianne swallowed the tears she thought had vanished. “I wanted to be truthful with you, and I could no longer keep it all pent up inside me.”
Her mother’s silence weighed on Marianne’s mind, but she waited as they walked on. She prayed the news did not send Mama back to bed.
“I married your Papa because I loved him. However, my father objected.” Mama took a labored breath. “He had heard rumors of Weston’s temper and didn’t approve of his family. I refused to listen and followed my heart.” Her mother smiled. “As much as I despise Armando Garcia, I understand how you feel. And I appreciate what he has asked of you. You have always shown wisdom in judging character, so perhaps you see a good side of him not evident to me.”
“Thank you, Mama. One more thing.” She hesitated and ordered her racing heart to cease its thunderous roar. “I have another confession to make, and I fear you will be upset with me.”
“Daughter, I love you. Granted I may be uncomfortable with what you have to say, but my love will never change.”
Several long moments passed while Marianne formed her words. “The truth is I speak Spanish, and I have done so for some time.”
“What you did was against your papa’s wishes.”
Marianne nodded. “I k
now I disobeyed.”
“I suspected your knowledge the evening of your abduction. You were too quick with Carmita’s translation. But I believe I know why. Juan and Carmita are dear to you.”
“Yes, Mama.”
Her mother sighed. “While we are being truthful with each other, I have something to tell you too. What I need to say as your mother is this. I have never regretted my life with your papa, for he has given me you. But my father loved me, and he was a wise man. He did know best. Now, I understand his insistence, and many times I wished I had obeyed his wishes. One thing I have realized over the years is,” her mother paused, “if God had not blessed me with you, I would still have Jesus. I am telling you this because the only advice I can give you is to pray for God’s leading and do not ignore His voice. Sometimes—”
“Mama, what else?” Marianne searched her mother’s face. “I know you want to tell me more.”
Her mother nodded and glanced at the path before them. “Sometimes it’s hard to understand life, but God always answers prayers, and He is perfect and just.”
“Yes, Mama.” Marianne silently prodded her mother to say what seemed to plague her.
“I am with child,” her mother said.
Marianne covered her mouth. “Your health. Oh, Mama, I will be living with the don then. Who will help you?”
“I have Carmita. This child is part of God’s plan. I…I am pleased, and you know how I have prayed for another baby. Share in my joy, Marianne, for God has blessed me with another opportunity to give Weston what he so desperately wants.”
Marianne drew her mother close. “We have both shared our hearts today. Mama, you are truly my treasure. I will pray for you and the baby every day.”
“I’ll tell your papa this evening. He has been working long past sundown, but tonight I plan to tell him the good news.”
“He will be happy,” Marianne said, but a twinge of fear caused her to shiver. She wished Mama had grown stronger before conceiving again.
Long after dark and near to bedtime, Papa arrived home. Marianne heard him enter through the front door. His heavy boots resounded down the hallway toward them.
“Shall I go to my room now?” Marianne asked. She saw the glow upon her mother’s face. Mama’s happiness gave Marianne strength to endure the months ahead.
“Perhaps after you bid your papa good night.”
Marianne maintained a pleasant demeanor despite her reluctance to see Papa. Usually he came in late in a fitful mood. She’d become accustomed to his familiar scowl.
“Good evening, Weston.” Her mother glanced up from her needlepoint.
“Hello, Papa.”
He muttered something, but it didn’t stop her mother. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
“No,” he said with more than a generous supply of gruffness.
Marianne wondered why he even bothered to step into her mother’s room. “I’m going to bed now.” She gave her a kiss goodnight. “Sleep well. Good night, Papa.”
“Did you complete your studies today?” He tugged his gray, horseshoe-shaped mustache.
“Yes, sir.” The Spanish books on Catholicism were difficult to understand, but she felt bound by her commitment to learn the material.
“Don Lorenzo expects you to learn quickly.” He glared at her, as though he expected her to refute his statement.
“I’ll not disappoint him or you.” She faced him squarely. “May I go to my room?”
He nodded and clenched his jaw.
Marianne wanted so much to see affection in his eyes, but she had nearly given up. “Sleep well, Papa.” With an inward sigh, she brushed past him.
Once in her room, Marianne succumbed to the exhaustion from the day. She shed her gown and petticoats for her chemise and crawled into bed. A light breeze blew gently through her window, and she turned her face to let it cool her. She tried to pray, except her mind kept wondering how her mother fared in telling Papa about the baby. In her previous confinement, Papa had treated Mama kindly, which had been a blessing for everyone.
She allowed her thoughts to float back to this morning and dwelled longer than she intended upon Armando. They had said their good-byes, and her dreams lay shattered. Up until now, she had comforted herself in a childish belief that the two of them could somehow be together. That was now in the past.
Again, she tried to pray, but from deep within her sorrow wrenched through her body. Oh, God, help me through this. I can’t face another day without You to steady me. I want to be pleasing in Your eyes, but I am so miserable. Must I live my life without Armando? How can anything else, except for You, compare to the joy of his embrace?
God would be enough…God would be enough.
Chapter 19
The month of July brought sweltering temperatures, including long afternoons when Marianne and her mother indulged in siestas during the heat of the day. Everyone looked expectantly to cooler evenings, when temperaments became more pleasant. Papa grumbled and complained of everything and everyone, but to her mother he softened. Marianne appreciated his attentiveness to Mama, although it stemmed from the prospect of a new heir. Why couldn’t he be kind without thought of himself?
Mama stayed in bed most of the mornings until her sickness with the child subsided. Despite her fatigue and lagging health, she smiled more. Her joy seemed to bounce from Marianne’s upcoming wedding to the new baby. Neither Mama nor Marianne ever mentioned again the afternoon they confessed the truth of their souls. And, for Marianne, the silence suited her wounded heart.
Armando floated in and out of her thoughts, but she remained steadfast to her resolve and pushed him from her mind. But late at night when sleep overcame her, dreams of the sable-eyed man comforted her. God is my strength, she often told herself. He will sustain me through whatever lies ahead.
Don Lorenzo often visited the Phillips Hacienda. He and Papa spent a good deal of time riding across the expanse of the land and discussing matters behind the closed doors of Papa’s study. She often wondered what they talked about at such great length, mostly because she feared Papa plotted revenge against Armando and the people of La Flor.
“What do you suppose they do late into the night?” Marianne asked of her mother one evening as the two women made ready for bed.
Mama offered a reassuring smile. “Men always speak of things we women aren’t of a mind to hear—political matters and business affairs. It’s boring, and often the topics are distasteful for a woman’s delicate ears.”
Marianne wanted to trust her mother’s judgment, but the reply failed to erase her suspicions. She didn’t trust her father and believed he hadn’t abandoned his desire to secure the fertile valley and destroy Armando and his followers. The thought of such evil intentions needled her and caused her to pray even more fervently for Armando and Papa. God forbid if Papa had enlisted the help of Don Lorenzo in it all. Marianne understood how the don could be persuaded to her father’s way of thinking, especially when Armando was held responsible for the kidnapping. Oh, the matter never ceased to frighten her. If she thought advancing the wedding day might help dissuade Don Lorenzo from assisting Papa, she’d gladly do so. But there were so many things she didn’t know.
During the don’s stay, he had Papa translate requests for her to accompany him on walks or sit with him in the courtyard. One evening, Papa enlisted the vaqueros on the hacienda to stage a bullfight for the don, an amusing affair when the supposedly ferocious bull preferred eating to charging the matadors. Clay Wharton participated in the festivities with his pretty young wife, who observed the activities with eyes only for her husband. The hacienda’s foreman looked happy. Marianne smiled at his bride and prayed Clay would love and treasure her.
Marianne assessed the don as a gentle man, and she felt assured of his good heart. Daily she prayed his charm and manners were sincere and would not disappear, as Papa had done with Mama.
Papa questioned her constantly about her studies of Roman Catholicism and Spanish. Her tu
tor, Antonio de Valero, who studied for the priesthood in San Antonio, praised her quick mind, but her father simply demanded she work harder. He always wanted more than she could give.
Marianne finally decided she could no longer deceive Don Lorenzo about her knowledge of Spanish. She must tell him and hope he kept the secret from Papa. After viewing her parents’ relationship, she felt a marriage should be based on honesty, not deceit.
One morning, during one of his visits, she asked Papa if the don would like to go riding. The older gentleman pleasantly agreed, and Marianne excused herself to change into proper riding attire, a loose skirt rather than one of her frocks. The idea of riding Diablo sidesaddle did not settle well, but she’d done so before, and Mama insisted she conduct herself as a proper lady.
Juan bridled and saddled Diablo and one of Papa’s finest mares for Don Lorenzo while she and the Spanish nobleman waited.
“You wish for me to ride the white stallion?” he asked in Spanish at the sight of the high-spirited horse.
“No, Señor Sanchez.” Juan limped from the stables, leading Diablo. “The señorita always rides him.”
Don Lorenzo’s gaze peered curiously at Marianne. “But her father said no one could ride this horse. He insists the stallion is loco.”
Juan smiled and handed Diablo’s reins to Marianne. The stallion pawed at the dust, anxious for a run. “She is the only one who has been able to tame him. Fortunately, the stallion allows me to groom him, but even then sometimes he gives me trouble.”
Marianne regretted feigning ignorance of their conversation, but soon she could apologize. She felt proud of Diablo and wanted to show the don how well he responded to her commands. The don stepped toward Diablo, but he snorted menacingly and lifted his front legs in defiance.
