Golden Paradise (Vincente 1)

by Constance O'Banyon

  Captain Masterson looked pleased at her words, and Valentina could have sworn that he blushed. "I will be anchored here for a fortnight, Miss Barrett. Should you have any reason to need help, I stand ready to assist you.

  She blessed him with a smile that made her eyes dance. "I expect to be in the safe hands of my mother and father as soon as we reach shore. But I thank you for your kindness." Again her eyes were sweeping the distant shore, searching for the beloved faces of her parents.

  When the longboat bumped against the wooden pier, Valentina still had not spotted them. As Captain Masterson helped her ashore, she scanned the faces of the crowd, unaware of the many looks of admiration directed at her by the men on the dock.

  "I don't see your parents," the captain observed, glancing about the crowd of people who had gathered to meet the Berengaria.

  Valentina's legs felt wobbly but she knew from experience that the sensation would pass as soon as she became accustomed to being on land again. She met the captain's eyes. "No," she replied with a sinking heart, "I don't see them either. Perhaps they didn't know I would be arriving today." Her disappointment showed on her face. She glanced at Salamar as if she wanted her to decide what they should do.

  Captain Masterson, seeing Valentina's distress, offered her reassurance. "I suspect your mother and father are waiting for the crowd to clear out, Miss Barrett. I would suggest that you move farther down the pier while I see to your baggage. If by that time your parents haven't come, I will send one of my men to make inquiries for you."

  "Thank you. That would seem the best thing to do," Valentina admitted, glad to have him take charge for her.

  Slowly Valentina realized she was the center of attention. She blushed at some of the bold stares the men cast her way. She felt as if she were on display. Never had she been on the receiving end of such close scrutiny.

  Seeing Valentina's discomfort, Captain Masterson took her arm to assist her across the wooden planks that served as a dock. "Let's get you and your maid out of this heat," he said, clearing a path through the mob.

  Valentina did not see the tall, gangly figure of a man making his way toward them until he spoke. "Pardon me, would you be Captain Masterson of the Berengaria?" The stranger's eyes swept Valentina with interest before resting for a brief moment on Salamar.

  "I am indeed Nathan Masterson, sir. How may I be of service to you?"

  "I am Reverend Percival Lawton," the man introduced himself, speaking in a stiff New England accent. "I was asked by Mrs. Barrett to meet her daughter, Miss Valentina Barrett. I have been watching every ship that came in for the last two weeks. Very tedious business, I must say."

  Valentina wondered why her mother and father had not come to meet her themselves. Why had they sent this stranger? When she looked into the reverend's serious grey eyes, she extended her gloved hand. "I'm Miss Barrett, sir. Why aren't my parents here to meet me? Has something happened?"

  "I thought you must be her," he said, ignoring her question as he took her hand for the briefest moment; then he dropped it as if it burned him. Reaching into his coat pocket, he removed his handkerchief and nervously dabbed at his face. "Nothing to worry about. I hired a buggy, so if you will put me onto your baggage, I'll see it's loaded."

  Valentina pointed to the collection of trunks and boxes that was being stacked nearby. "You will find everything there, Mr. Lawton," she answered before she turned her attention to Captain Masterson. She was anxious to be away so she could see her parents. "I want to thank you again for everything, Captain. I'm sure my parents will want you to take a meal with us before you sail."

  He took her proffered hand. "I will be honored, Miss Barrett. You have only to send word on the appointed date, and I will be there."

  Nathan Masterson was reluctant to turn Valentina over to the nervous stranger who called himself a preacher. When the man returned, the captain saw that he was directing several dockworkers to load the trunks in his carriage. Percival Lawton seemed anxious to be on his way and was irritated when Masterson pulled him aside to question him.

  "I don't understand all the secrecy. I want to know exactly where you are taking Miss Barrett. I know her mother and father quite well. It doesn't sound like them to send a stranger to meet their daughter."

  The man nodded his head toward the west. "I have a small place just across town where I live with my sister. At the back of my place we have a small cabin that the Barretts have rented from us. Ask anyone where I live and they can direct you. If you will excuse me, I'll lash Miss Barrett's baggage down."

  Valentina watched Percival Lawton dart after her trunks, while Captain Masterson pulled one of the dockworkers aside and questioned him about the reverend. After he was satisfied that Mr. Lawton was who he claimed to be, he returned to Valentina.

  She held out her hand to him, feeling somewhat nostalgic about their parting. "I will miss the adventure, Captain. Perhaps I will sail again on the Berengaria. I certainly hope so."

  Captain Masterson bowed slightly and touched the tips of her fingers. "I would deem it an honor to have you sail with me at any time, Miss Barrett."

  He watched her turn away, knowing he would always remember her. After she was lost in the crowd, he made his way back to his men who were unloading cargo onto the pier. He was not really saying good-bye; he would see her again, he decided.

  When Valentina and Salamar reached the buggy, Mr. Lawton made no attempt to help them inside. Puzzled, they looked at each other before climbing aboard, taking precautions not to show too much ruffled petticoat.

  Reverend Lawton spoke not a word as he guided the mules into a steady stream of traffic. A heavy, uncomfortable silence hung in the air and Valentina was worried about her parents. Where were they? Why had they entrusted her to a man she didn't know? Suddenly she felt the comfort and warmth of Salamar's hand on her shoulder. The reassuring touch seemed to be telling her, Don't worry, everything will be all right.

  With a sigh of relief, she turned to her maid and smiled at her. Then she turned her attention to her surroundings. She became fascinated by the sights and sounds around her. San Francisco was a ramshackle town, teeming with people from all walks of life. There were wooden buildings, many half finished. Canvas tents dotted the landscape, some of which had been turned into businesses. Large quantities of goods and wares were piled in front of buildings because there was no room to store them. The muddy streets were filled with masses of humanity hurrying about their daily lives. There were Chinese, Mexicans, Frenchmen, Spaniards, Russians and many other nationalities that Valentina did not recognize.

  There was a strange excitement about them, as if the very air they breathed was filled with gold dust. Valentina turned to Mr. Lawton, determined to find out about her mother and father. "I was wondering why my mother sent you instead of coming herself?" Valentina watched the man's face as she worked her fingers out of her gloves, then clutched them in her hand.

  "Your father and mother rented a cabin from me several months ago. Mrs. Barrett's been real sick. Mr. Barrett took off to the gold fields and left her alone. Me and my sister thought it only Christian for us to look after her until you arrived." His mouth thinned, and he turned watery eyes on Valentina. "Folks that come to this place seeking gold deserve what they get. It's the devil's work."

  Valentina's head was reeling. No, he couldn't be telling the truth. "My father would never desert my mother when she was ill, as you suggest." Valentina glared at the man, knowing she was on the verge of losing her temper.

  "I didn't mean to imply that your father deserted your mother. I believe she was supposed to join him when he had a suitable shelter built for her at his diggings."

  Valentina stared at the man, hardly breathing. She was almost afraid to ask the question that went round and round in her mind. "How ill is my mother?"

  "Could be worse; probably will be. She's got what they call the Panama fever. Must have got it coming overland through the jungle."

  Valentina gripped her
hands together tightly. "What are you saying?"

  "Misery is born of misery. Your folks committed a great sin by coming to this land and trying to desecrate it. That's the folly of greed."

  Valentina felt her anger rise to its zenith. "How dare you say such a thing about my mother and father! My mother is a good woman, and my father is an honorable man. You have no right to criticize them. Take me to my mother at once."

  Percival Lawton's watery eyes moved over Valentina's face. "I have the right. I'm God's messenger, and he speaks through me. Your father paid the price for his sins; now it's your mother's turn to pay."

  Valentina's breathing seemed to have stopped for the moment. "Are you saying that my father is . . . ?" She clutched her gloves, twisting them tightly. "No, it isn't possible."

  Percival Lawton looked away from her. He was concentrating on guiding the mules past a wagon that was bogged down in the mud, blocking the road. "I'll not be the one to bring you ill tidings. When you see her, you must ask your mother to tell you about your father."

  Valentina clamped her teeth together and brought her anger under control, but she could not control the fear that nagged at her heart—fear that something dreadful had happened to her father. "I insist that you tell me where my father is," she demanded in a shaky voice.

  Mr. Lawton looked sideways at her. "Well, if you say so, but your mother wanted to be the one to tell you. She took ill right after your father left for the diggings. Your father had paid my sister and me to look after your mother. Then he left with his partner—a man some believe to be of dubious reputation. Your mother got a letter saying they struck gold; shortly thereafter it was learned that your father was killed in a cave-in."

  "No!" Valentina cried, reaching out for Salamar's hand. "No, it cannot be!" Tears blinded Valentina and rolled down her cheeks. Trying to control her emotions, she gripped Salamar's hands tightly. "Was . . . did anyone find my . . . father's . . . body? Is there proof he is dead?"

  "The proof is whether or not you believe Samuel Udell's word. Your mother refuses to admit he's dead. She says she'd know it if he wasn't coming back."

  "Since we only have Samuel Udell's word that my father is . . . dead, and you implied that he might not be trustworthy," Valentina concluded, clutching at straws. She could not accept that her father might be dead. He had been so alive. She loved him so much.

  "Well ... if you want to look at it that way; not many men trusted Mr. Udell. I tried to tell your father he was unscrupulous, but he didn't heed my warning. Be that as it may, your father is most assuredly dead. Why else would he stay away so long? Your mother needs to face the truth or she won't ever get well. She's too weak to get out of bed, just lays there moaning. It was like she gave up when she heard about your father. She's been counting the days until you arrive." He gave Valentina a tight little smile. "I believe I have won your mother's soul to the Lord and she sees the error of her wicked ways."

  Valentina was weighed down by emotions she could not ignore. Her heart ached for her father; she was worried about her mother. She wanted to strike out at this hateful pious man. "My mother's soul doesn't need saving, Reverend Lawton. Don't you ever dare say that she had wicked ways."

  He gave her a condescending glance. "We can all do with a little soul-searching, miss. You might do well to remember that."

  Valentina glared at the man. She had no intention of being in his company any longer than was necessary. She felt an urgency to be with her mother, but the buggy wheels seemed to turn so slowly.

  By now she realized Salamar had not spoken a word. Looking into her companion's face, she saw her concerned frown. "We will have a doctor look at your mother, Valentina," Salamar said with assurance. "As for your father, I, like your mother, will not believe any harm has come to him until there is proof."

  "Yes!" Valentina cried. "We won't believe the worst unless we have to. Mother would know if anything dreadful had happened to Father."

  The mules were straining at the bit as they maneuvered the steep hill. "Will the animals not go faster?" Valentina urged frantically. "How much farther is it to your house?" She was beginning to think they would never arrive at their destination.

  Percival Lawton glanced at Valentina, hoping her temper had cooled. She sure was stubbornly defensive of her parents, he thought. That spoke well of her in his eyes—even if the parents didn't deserve her blind trust. "It's just a short ways now. Right over that next hill. Patience is another of God's virtues, Miss Barrett," he reminded her.

  Valentina was using all her strength at the moment to hold onto what shred of patience she had left. Realizing it would do no good to try to reason with this man, she tried to concentrate on the scenery. Vaguely she noticed the bars and saloons they were passing. Loud music filled the air and she could hear the shouts and laughter of merrymaking. The whole atmosphere had a feeling of unreality.

  When Percival Lawton drew the mules to a halt, Valentina glanced at the small house. It was neat and shining with a fresh coat of paint. She was surprised that his house was so near the business part of town. There was a general store across the street and what appeared to be a saloon next door. She thought it a strange place for a man of the cloth to live.

  As if reading her mind, Mr. Lawton spoke. "We search for lost souls wherever we find them, Miss Barrett. It is better to live among the wolves as a sheep than be torn apart by their fangs."

  It crossed Valentina's mind that this man who claimed to be a messenger of God could learn a valuable lesson from the kindly vicar in her church back home. It was on the tip of Valentina's tongue to ask him about the scripture that mentioned casting one's pearls before the swine, but she refrained.

  Climbing out of the buggy, she ran up the rock-strewn walkway toward the house. Not bothering to knock, she pushed open the door and looked about her in desperation. The room was small and neat, though sparsely furnished.

  The woman who occupied the sofa cast her knitting aside. Coming to her feet, she stared at Valentina with astonishment and disapproval written on her face. Valentina guessed this would be Reverend Lawton's sister, the one of whom he had spoken. One glance told Valentina that this was the female counterpart to Mr. Lawton—watery eyes and all. The gown the woman wore was of black broadcloth with a stark, white lace collar. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun and her stingy little mouth was drawn into a tight frown.

  "Where is my mother?" Valentina blurted out.

  "And who, pray tell, would you be? Am I to assume you are Miss Barrett?" Prudence Lawton asked, looking down her nose at Valentina most disapprovingly.

  "Yes. Please forgive my rudeness. In my concern for my mother, I forgot my manners. I am sure you will understand I am most anxious to see her."

  Suddenly the woman's attention was drawn away from Valentina. She stared, with gaping mouth, at Salamar, who stood in the doorway. "I will not have an Indian under my roof," she screeched. "Get her out! Get her out! We will all be massacred!"

  Salamar seemed undaunted by the woman's outburst. She walked slowly and deliberately to stand beside Valentina. "Salamar is my friend and companion, ma'am," Valentina explained. "You are in no danger from her."

  Reverend Lawton chose that moment to enter the room. Having heard the conversation, he intervened. "Now, Prudence, you mustn't make snap judgments. Even the unworthy deserve our consideration. Perhaps this heathen woman was placed in our hands for a reason."

  In spite of the look of amusement on Salamar's face, Valentina ground her teeth together. Had the whole world gone crazy? What in heaven's name would make this man and woman believe they were the salvation of the world? Anger burned like fire in Valentina's chest. "I can assure you, sir, and madam, that Salamar has not been placed in your hands for any reason." She felt rage at the pious assumption that Salamar was a heathen. "For your information, Salamar's soul is already in good hands. And I can tell you one more thing about her; she doesn't judge people before she knows them, and then only sparingly." Valentina's bre
asts were rising and falling with each breath she took. She did not notice the covetous way Percival Lawton was staring at her, but Salamar noticed. When Valentina looked at her maid, she saw humor dancing in her eyes.

  "Now, now, let us all begin again and see if we can't make amends," Reverend Lawton said, dabbing at his face with his handkerchief. "Prudence, I would like you to be acquainted with Miss Barrett. Miss Barrett, my sister, Prudence. As I told you before, my sister has been looking after your mother."

  Valentina acknowledged the woman with the merest nod of her head. She, was becoming angrier by the moment. All she wanted to do was find her mother. Drawing herself to her full height, she spoke authoritatively. "I will see my mother now if you don't mind."

  Prudence Lawton was still glaring at Valentina and said nothing, but her brother smiled and nodded his head. "You will find your mother in the log cabin out back. Just go down the hallway and out the back door. You go ahead while I see to your baggage."

  "No, leave everything in the buggy," Valentina said. "We won't be staying in your cabin. I intend to take my mother away from here as soon as possible."

  Prudence snorted. "It's not likely you will find a decent place that will take you in, even if you could afford it. There isn't a room to be had in this whole town."

  Valentina hurried past the woman and made her way down the hallway with Salamar in close pursuit. She passed a kitchen, then two closed doors that she assumed to be bedrooms. Pushing open the back door, she moved quickly in the direction of the small log cabin. Rushing up the wooden steps, Valentina slowly lifted the crude latch and the door swung open on creaking hinges. Though the sun came through the cracks between the logs, the room was in darkness. She could only see vague outlines.

  "Mother," she called softly. There was no answer.

  As she stepped inside, her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. There appeared to be crates and boxes stacked against one wall, leaving very little space for anything else. Valentina's gaze fell on the small cot beneath the window.