Four Winds (River of Time California, Book 2)

by Lisa T. Bergren

  He turned and brushed his curly hair back from his forehead, thinking, then turned back to look at me. After a moment, he said, “It makes my heart sing to know that your deepest wishes have been answered here, with me. But I will see Mendoza in chains and on his knees before you. And I will get that lamp back. I must have it back in order to move forward. And once the villain that has caused us such heartache is punished and we have the lamp in hand, I will leave you in Tainter Cove, by yourself, while I settle to my knees and pray only for God’s will to be done. I want you to have the choice, Zara, with no possible chains holding you back. Once more. To either return to your home or forever remain in mine.”

  I swallowed hard. I had to admit that if I had the lamp in hand this instant, if I were back at Tainter Cove, alone, the pull to return to my own time would still be there. But the thought of leaving… I searched his eyes, even as he searched mine. Then he nodded in silent pledge and turned to leave me alone to my thoughts.

  CHAPTER 28

  JAVIER

  My muscles were tense, head to toe, after my conversation with Zara. But the first of my pledges to her was about to be resolved. If Mendoza were aboard the Siren’s Quest, I’d either capture him or kill him before the morning was through.

  “Permission to come aboard, Captain!” John yelled up to the deck from the center of our lead rowboat, taking off his hat and putting it to his chest. Patricio stepped up beside him. The rest of us remained seated.

  Most of the crew of the Siren’s Quest had already gathered on the starboard rail to watch our four boats row up to their side.

  “What is this?” the captain blustered. “On what account do you hail us?”

  John slid a letter from the harbormaster out from his jacket and held it up, then gestured to Patricio. “Señor Casales has learned that you might have a fugitive aboard, Captain Santiago Mendoza, charged with piracy, robbery, kidnapping, and murder.”

  “We have no passengers aboard, at present. Only cargo in our hold,” the captain said.

  John lifted the letter higher in the wind. “This gives us permission to search your ship before you sail. Captain Mendoza booked passage with you, two days past.”

  “He did, but he has not shown himself. You have my word of it.”

  “Begging your pardon, Captain,” I said, rising. “But I know this man personally. I would recognize him, even if he has taken on a disguise as one of your crew, because it was I he robbed. It was I who was forced to watch as my loved ones were spirited away.”

  The captain paused, perusing me. “I am very sorry to hear of your losses, sir. But do you think I’d not recognize the fact that one of my crew was new to me? That I wouldn’t demand an immediate introduction?” His face reddened beneath his gray beard. “What sort of sorry captain do you think I am? I tell you, there is no member of this crew who hasn’t sailed with me for a year or more.”

  “We mean no offense, Captain,” I said. “And we’re very sorry to intrude upon your morning. But we shall see this through, sir.”

  “Bah!” said the captain, flinging up his hands. “Permission granted, then. Just try and stay out of my crew’s way as you conduct your futile search, and see to it quickly. I mean to make the most of the morning’s wind!”

  I climbed up the netting, the seas gently rising and falling beneath us, and glanced back to the Emma Jane, where I could see Zara hovering at the rail, watching us. My heart skipped a beat, given that this captain was so certain that Mendoza was not aboard, and then I caught sight of a sail moving past the mouth of the bay, heading north. Could it be that Mendoza had tricked us? That all this was meant to distract us as he left Monterey? I’d been so sure that he would book passage and make a hasty escape, but if he’d learned that we’d set a trap for him…

  ZARA

  We could plainly see that the men had not found Mendoza aboard the Siren’s Quest. They rowed back to the Emma Jane with shoulders either slumped in defeat or stiffened in frustration.

  “So much for an easy resolution,” Rafael said, from my right. And Hector, who had stayed behind to guard me, grunted at my left.

  “What will we do now?”

  Rafael shifted. “Head home, I assume. Javier has already dispatched men to other harbors farther north, in case Mendoza decided to put even more distance between us. He’ll likely send others by sea.”

  “He could’ve gone anywhere. Even East.”

  Hector let out a sound of dismay. “A pirate heading overland?”

  I lifted my eyebrows and tucked my head to one side, thinking it would’ve been what I’d do if I wanted to escape a noose around my neck. And a pirate caught in the middle of one of the West Coast’s busiest harbors? That’s exactly what he would’ve gotten. I chastised myself for having been lulled into thinking this would be easy—capturing Mendoza, seeing him to justice. But at the moment, I had to bolster my frustrated boyfriend, who was climbing back aboard the Emma Jane, thunderclouds of fury and dismay boiling just beneath the surface.

  He said something to John, before coming over to me. “Forgive me, love. I’ve failed you.” His jaw clamped shut, and he paced back and forth a bit, fists clenching and releasing.

  “You did not fail me,” I said. “We thought we had him trapped.” I shrugged. “We didn’t. The fox outfoxed us. At some point, we’ll either run across Mendoza again and see him to justice—or face the fact that he’s possibly slipped away forever.”

  Javier shook his head. “It galls me, to think he’s escaped us. I cannot imagine that he could take such losses—his ship, Craig’s goods—and decide that a chest of gold in exchange for you was enough. That gold will not buy him another ship!” He shook his head and paced back and forth. “I simply do not understand it.”

  “But it might see him onto a ship and eventually back into the role of captain. And there was his mention of another way he would gain from all of this. Do you have any idea—any idea at all—what that might have been?”

  Javier shook his head and continued to pace, chin in hand. “Over and over I’ve considered that. I cannot think who would’ve gained from the attack on Bonita Harbor and Craig’s ship, or how. Perhaps if they’d made it to harbor with the Crescent Moon intact and been able to sell our goods…but to lose it all and still count it good? It makes no sense. I still can’t believe he gambled rounding Point Concepción in a storm.”

  “If he had not tried, that meant giving you the chance to catch up with him in Monterey before he sold the goods, bought provisions, and set sail again. At the very least, you would’ve been right behind him—probably on this very ship, the Emma Jane.”

  He shook his head, hands on his hips. “And people think of me as a gambler.” He looked up at me, and I could plainly see that he was thinking again of that storm, the ship going down, and how close he had come to losing both Mateo and me. I was thinking of it myself, and it made me suddenly anxious to get back to shore. His eyes narrowed. “Trust me, mi Corazon. Some day, I will find that man. And we shall see him to justice.”

  “I have no doubt of it,” I said, stepping closer to him and laying a hand on his chest. I was suddenly so weary over all of this. Eager to get home to the ranch, to his family. Back to love and security among them. “He has no ship now. If he ever returns to Bonita Harbor, I wager you’ll be prepared for him, yes?”

  He gave me a slow, solemn nod. “He’d come to regret it if he tried. Never again will a pirate take us unaware.”

  “And if you become a sea captain one day, will you not have one eye out for him, with every ship that passes?”

  “Indeed,” he pledged.

  “Then can we go now, Javier? You’ve set your men on the trails that Mendoza might have taken, overland. Can we let it rest in God’s hands and timing and go home now, to Rancho de la Ventura? Away from here?” Far away from anywhere Mendoza might be right now?

  He nodded slowly. “Are you certain you don’t want to take up John’s offer? We’d be home in almost two days rather th
an five.”

  I shook my head. “No. Overland, please. My butt will complain about it in a day or two, but at least it won’t awaken my nightmares.”

  His mouth dropped open a bit, and I realized I shouldn’t have said something like the word butt. Abuela had never liked it in my own century. Plainly, in this time, a “woman of good breeding” would never say such a thing. But then he laughed, and there was such utter delight in his eyes that it washed away my embarrassment.

  “Overland it is, then,” he said, offering his arm. “But what of the young gambler? And your lamp?” he said as if just remembering it.

  “It will come to me in time.”

  His brow wrinkled. “What makes you say that?”

  Rafael joined us then, obviously seeking to find out what Javier wanted to do next. Javier began to wave him off, wanting to hear my answer, but instead I invited his good friend in. I’d been reluctant to tell him what had happened, but this afternoon…well, now there could be no more secrets. They made me tired. Quickly I told them both how I had followed the young gambler to the stables.

  “You went alone?” thundered Javier, drawing the attention of some of the crew members. They stared and then bent heads together to confer, clearly guessing at what was going on.

  “Take your ease,” I said, waiting patiently while Javier settled down. Both men were tall and created a formidable two sides to our triangle. But I crossed my arms and stared up at them both. “I admit it wasn’t my wisest move. But it was the lamp, Javier. He had my lamp. And I knew I couldn’t let him just slip away without at least trying to retrieve it. For all I knew, he might’ve sold it to me!”

  “Why is that lamp so dear to you?” Rafael said.

  I looked to him. “It was my only possession when I washed up on the shores of Tainter Cove,” I said simply. “It’s valuable, pure gold, some think, and quite ancient.”

  He nodded gravely, his brows lowered as he considered my words.

  “But the young card sharp would not give it to you?” Javier asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as if a headache was beginning to form.

  “No. I threatened him, saying I’d scream, if he didn’t give me my things—the lamp, my shawl, and the fossil—as well as Mendoza’s location.”

  Javier’s face softened at my mention of the fossil. He paused and turned toward me. “And he said…?”

  “That he’d give me those things within a fortnight, if I let him go. He didn’t have the shawl and the fossil with him—they were hidden. If I wanted them, I’d have to gamble on trusting him.”

  Rafael let out a hollow laugh. “And so you elected to trust one of the most untrustworthy people at that party last night?” He lifted his hand toward shore and then ran it through his hair in frustration. “If you had screamed, we might have caught him! Found out where Mendoza was hiding or what road he’d taken!”

  “Or I would’ve screamed, and he would’ve still escaped, and I would not have gained the promise of my lamp, my shawl and fossil, as well as some explanation for Mendoza’s action,” I said steadily, keeping my tone calm.

  “What could possibly be more important than his location?” Javier asked, his face a mask of confusion.

  “The young gambler never promised me he’d tell me where the pirate was. But he did say he would tell me how the pirate stood to gain from the whole venture.”

  “How will he get that all to you?” asked Rafael.

  I shrugged, squirming under their joint, intense gaze. “He said he’d get it to me at Rancho de la Ventura. Not here.”

  Rafael laughed mirthlessly, obviously thinking I’d been suckered, and Javier scowled at him, protective of me. But down deep, I knew he thought the same.

  “I might have lost in that gambit,” I rushed on, “but I had little choice! It was either cling to that slim hope or potentially lose everything.”

  “Well, that’s it then,” Javier said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I guess all that’s left to us is to make the journey home. And there we shall wait.”

  CHAPTER 29

  ZARA

  As much as I tried to hold a part of my heart in reserve, it seemed that Javier was on a major charm offensive in the days that followed, whether he recognized it or not. It was as if he remained determined that he wanted me to get my lamp back—and have the option to return to my own time—but in the days we had left together, he wanted to make sure I knew exactly what I’d be leaving behind.

  He’d purchased a new riding habit for me, which fit like a dream and allowed me to ride sidesaddle without wanting to kill someone within the hour. We spent much of the journey south riding together in companionable silence or talking, while the six men with us kept a respectful distance. Some of the others had been dispatched to see if they could pick up Mendoza’s trail; Rafael and his men had sailed south on the Emma Jane with John in order to get home to Santa Barbara faster.

  We didn’t return to the mission where we had spent the night after we were reunited; he seemed aware that it might awaken hard memories for me, just as being aboard a ship had. We rejoined the central road from Monterey to Santa Barbara, hemmed in for miles by hills on either side, but after our fourth day on the road, we again neared the ocean. It spread out before us, a deep, sparkling blue. It became the most beautiful turquoise where it hugged the shoreline, and from above, we could see where rocks stubbornly resisted the waves or where beds of kelp became their dance partner. Javier grinned at me. “A fine place to make camp for the night, no?”

  “Can’t imagine any prettier,” I said, relieved at the thought of dismounting for the day.

  He dismounted himself and came over to help me down.

  “Remember that first day on the way to the rodeo?” I asked. “When my legs were so numb I collapsed?”

  “Indeed,” he said, holding me in his arms a moment and looking down at me. “I carried you to that rock.”

  “Such a hero,” I said playfully, putting a hand on his chest.

  He waved to his men, making a circular motion with his finger to indicate that we’d make camp here. After hobbling the horses, I walked down the hill, closer to the cove below. It was picturesque, like something that would grace a California calendar centuries from now. The hills were deep green, the summer not yet hot enough to bake the grasses brown, and the horses set to work, as if bent on eating their fair share. Below us, on the far right, a cliff extended out. Beneath it, the waves had hollowed out what looked like a cave.

  I glanced back at Javier. “Want to take a dip?” I said.

  “Of what do you speak? Swimming?” He frowned in playful suspicion. “Now? But…”

  It was all I needed. I moved to my horse and fetched a simple shift that I’d purchased when Javier returned to the mercantile to buy my riding habit, along with new dresses for his sisters and mama. It was hardly a bikini, but trust me, it was the best I could do in 1840. I pulled out a second shift, along with my gold dress, the easiest gown to get into, knowing I’d have to change in private once we were done.

  “Zara?” he asked, casting me a look that said, Are you as crazy as I think you are?

  “Coming?” I asked saucily, passing by him. “Or am I swimming alone?”

  He laughed under his breath and went to his own horse, grabbing some clothes. I noticed he didn’t bother trying to talk me out of it or point out the impropriety. Perhaps he knew that I was going to swim, whether he approved or not. Which I was. It was so incredibly beautiful and inviting, I couldn’t imagine passing up the opportunity. Down below, I moved behind a group of boulders that would keep anyone but sea lions from seeing me change and hurriedly took off my riding habit’s split skirt, the long jacket, and then the lace dickey and stays. I elected to leave my pantaloons and camisole on, thinking that once the shift got wet, there’d be little to hide everything beneath if I didn’t have a couple of layers on. But at least these layers wouldn’t keep me from swimming freely. Even the shift was bound to ride up around my wa
ist, once I was in the water.

  Javier was down on the sand, waiting for me, stripped to the waist. I had to admit to myself that the saying was true, not a cliché—he literally took my breath away. As in, I had to remember to take my next breath when I saw the bare expanse of his bronzed shoulders and chest, narrowing to his waist. He still wore his breeches—apparently okay with getting them wet—and he grinned at me. “There you are,” he said, coming closer. “My beautiful sea sprite.”

  He reached to help me down off the rocks, but I shook my head. With a sly smile, I turned and began picking my way along the cliff that hung over the cove.

  “Zara,” he warned, “now don’t be foolish.”

  “Not foolish!” I corrected. “Fun!” But I hurried on, spurred by the desire to jump in first. If he got there ahead of me, he might decide it wasn’t “safe,” and I was weary of him worrying about that.

  “Wait for me, Zara,” he growled, climbing up and closing in behind me. The rocks were wet and slippery, forcing me to slow down, but I pushed on. After all, he had to slow down too. When we got to the end, I let go of my handholds and carefully inched around to face the sea, my toes hanging over the narrow ledge. It was farther down than I anticipated—a good twelve feet. Which felt like twenty now. Why was that always the way?

  “Second thoughts?” he asked, panting as he neared me. He was still facing the cliff. “Shouldn’t you be holding on?”

  “But then I couldn’t do this,” I grinned, catching his eye. I leaped outward, bringing my fingers to a perfect point ahead of me, my toes tucked together behind, and sliced into the water.

  I went deep, relishing the feel of the cool after a long, sweaty day in the saddle. And then I slowly let myself rise to the surface, emerging in a cloud of bubbles.