But he wasn’t in the position to make a good husband to any woman, especially a woman who had been born into the finest things life had to offer. She was the hacienda’s princess. She deserved to marry a man who could give her the best in life. Here on his ranch, there was no social life, and no one would be coming to call for tea or inviting them over for a meal.
No, Miss Maria Victoria Ruiz Torres had been born into Spanish nobility and deserved to take her place with the nobles ruling their corner of the world.
Nana Ruth had commented that Vicky had come to them for a reason. Nana had expected that reason to be to marry Chris, but he knew better. Surely God had sent her to his home to learn about the Bible. Padre Pedro could only share snatches of it for short spans of time. Even if the priest had wanted to teach each family more, his responsibility was too large and widespread to really do justice to his parish ranging over three hundred miles in diameter.
Of course God brought her into his life so he could share the Bible with her, but Chris couldn’t help wishing it was for a whole lot more. If only he could marry Vicky as Nana had suggested. But her father would laugh in his face, a stranger and foreigner with only a small cabin in the middle of the woods and no way to protect his wife and family, asking for the hand of the man’s daughter. Still, if God had allowed it, marriage to her would have been amazing.
They enjoyed so many of the same things. They could take rides on the ranch and share the woods, hunt together... Married to him, she wouldn’t have to give up all those things that she loved to do.
Except that he would always be terrified that something would happen to her and he wouldn’t be able to protect her.
Chapter Thirteen
“Señorita Victoria,” Padre Pedro started in Spanish after they had cleared the dinner dishes that night. “We need to talk about your return home.”
She had guessed as much. Padre Pedro and Hermano Francisco had been exchanging looks ever since Hermano Sebastian’s fall. If she were being truly honest, she had been a little relieved when Hermano Sebastian had been thrown. Feeling guilty, she hoped that his recuperation would take more than a week. If it did, then there would be no way to make it home on time for her party and wedding. Although, if everyone thought she was dead, and they must have come up with that assumption by now or they would have come looking for her, then maybe she would be off the hook with Don Joaquín. Maybe he had already started to court some other poor girl.
Padre Pedro had said that everything would work out. Could this be the first time that God was finally paying attention to her prayers? Had He let Hermano Sebastian fall from the horse so she would miss the ceremony?
“I understand that it will be impossible for Brother Sebastian to travel like he is, so we must wait. It is not a hardship. As I shared with you earlier...”
The kind elderly man held out his hand to stop the onslaught of her words. “Hush, my daughter. There will be no delay if we can help it. Your family must be beside themselves with grief and worry. They deserve to know that you are alive and well.”
She nodded at the truth in his statement.
“We must leave the day after tomorrow to give you time to arrive and prepare for the ceremony.”
“Must we still have a ceremony, Padre?” Vicky asked, unable to hide her desperation.
“God did not give you the spirit of fear, my daughter. He has a purpose in all of this.” His gentle eyes held her gaze until she nodded in understanding. There would be no salvation from this. She would be forced to go home and face her father’s wrath, her mother’s disillusionment and her suitor’s vulgar behavior, and then her own father would hand her over to the fiend. “Trust God, mi’ja.” The priest’s term of endearment calmed her racing thoughts. “For we do not know exactly what the Almighty has in store for you, Princesa. We only know that it is the best for you.”
* * *
Chris froze when he heard the last of the priest’s words. He hadn’t understood much of the Spanish, but one word stood out. Princess. Of course they would call her that. He would have, too, if he had the right. She had the grace and beauty of a princess and was the only daughter of the owner of a large hacienda, a nobleman by birth, who reigned his hacienda like the feudal lords of yesteryear had back in the old country. She belonged back on her hacienda. No matter if Chris’s heart agreed or not.
“Chris,” Vicky called out, and his feet took him to her side even as his head told him to go in the opposite direction. The less he interacted with her before she left, the easier it would be to say goodbye when the time came. Too bad his heart didn’t seem interested in paying any attention to his head.
“Yes, Vicky?” He stood to her side, the priest studying him closely without giving away his thoughts.
“Padre Pedro want talk with you.” She glanced at the priest and bit her lip.
“Sí, Padre?” Chris forced his eyes to stay on the older gentleman, who turned to Vicky and quickly said something to her in Spanish.
“He say we need go to hacienda day after tomorrow.”
A pain rent his heart in two, but he kept his face impassive and nodded.
“Padre say Brother Sebastian no go on horse with leg like coconut.”
“No, you’re right, he can’t ride a horse with his leg so swollen.” Chris forced his voice to sound calm and reasonable. How he wished there were other reasons to keep her on the ranch. But it would all end the same. Sooner or later she’d have to leave, and if she didn’t leave soon, something would happen to her on his watch. Just like his distraction had let Moonbeam buck the young priest.
“Padre ask if Brother Sebastian stay while leg get better. Hermano Francisco stay to take care of him. Padre Pedro come back after wedding.” She swallowed hard after the word but continued. “He come back next week.”
“They are both welcome to stay here as long as they need. But you can’t go all the way to the hacienda with only Padre Pedro to keep you safe, Vicky. If Brother Francisco is willing to take care of the horses and see to supplying water and wood for Nana while we’re gone, I’ll go with you.” This was for the best. He could see her safely delivered to her home.
Padre Pedro again leaned closer to Vicky and said something to her. His eyes closely studied Chris. Did the priest believe that Vicky had been respected during her convalescence, or did he think Chris had somehow compromised her? And if the priest doubted, what would he say to her parents? What repercussions would Vicky face due to the circumstances?
“Padre say you come with.” She lowered her gaze to the ground but not before Chris caught the fear and sadness in their dark depths.
“What is wrong, Vicky?”
“I no want marry Don Joaquín de la Vega. Very bad man.”
“Your father’s making you marry Joaquín?” Even the taste of the words on his tongue was vile, bitter. Something clicked in Chris’s mind as he thought about the name for a moment, and his stomach clenched. “Wait, Don Joaquín de la Vega from the Vega Hacienda?” The man had approached his farm two years before. He claimed he wanted to buy Chris’s stock. Chris had refused to sell him any of his own stock after seeing how mistreated the man’s horse was. After their heated meeting, the man indicated that Chris should leave Alta California or face the consequences.
“Sí, he make me marry Joaquín.” Her eyes were so large and innocent.
His throat closed around a lump that wouldn’t budge. How could he take her home knowing that she faced a forced marriage? Maybe he had judged too harshly the other man at their first meeting, but the look in her eyes said otherwise. What father would be capable of marrying off his daughter to a man who caused her terror?
What if he offered for her hand, as well? The idea ran through his mind, making his pulse beat fast and his head spin with excitement, but he discarded it as quickly as it came. The Spanish nobility didn’
t look too kindly on marrying outside their elite group. Was the engagement already confirmed? If so, why wasn’t Don Joaquín scouring the woods until he found Vicky? If Chris had been her intended, only death would keep him from finding her if she had been lost to him.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, finally forcing words past the emotions clogging his throat. He took her hands in his, unable to stop himself. Wanting to offer so much more and yet afraid this would end as every other time he had tried to help protect someone.
“Come with me and Padre Pedro. Mi papá want to say thank-you for keep me at your house. He want to give you gift.”
“Or cut off my head for not bringing you back sooner,” Chris quipped, not sure he fully trusted her father or the idea of turning her over to her own family if they had caused her this much misery. But what other option did he have? He knew that God expected children to honor their parents, but to what end? This seemed extreme. Could he take her all the way only to hand her over to a fiend?
“No, no cut off you head.” Vicky reached up as if to touch his face, then shook her head as she let her hand fall to her side. “He want say thank-you for save me. Padre Pedro talk with him. Tell him you good man who take good care of me. Please, Chris,” she begged, a desperate tone in her voice. He couldn’t have turned away from her even if Comet and Tesoro had both been tied to his legs and pulled in the opposite direction. “I no want go alone,” she whispered, and she looked up at him with tears in her eyes and fear so palpable it froze him there.
“I’ll go with you, Vicky. Don’t cry. It’ll all work out.” Before he could second-guess his actions, he pulled her close, hugging her to his chest. For a minute he believed he could protect her from anything if only she could stay sheltered in his arms.
The priest cleared his throat, and Chris drew back without releasing Vicky. Padre Pedro nodded, a half smile on his lined face, and slipped away from them with a pat on Chris’s shoulder as he passed. Was that his approval? If he would speak to Vicky’s father, would he be willing to endorse Chris as a husband for Vicky?
“Thank you, Chris. I know you no want to leave Nana or you horses, but I no want go alone.”
Pulling her just a little closer, he leaned his chin against her head. “I don’t want you to go alone either.” Or ever be alone again. But the last part he kept to himself. Even though he realized that for the first time in a very long time, he didn’t want to be alone either.
Chapter Fourteen
Nana Ruth held Vicky close, her arms warm and comforting as Vicky stood at the threshold of the cabin and said goodbye one more time. Hard to believe it had been barely six weeks ago that Chris had carried her unconscious into this cabin for the first time. Now it felt like home. The place where she belonged.
“Go with God, honey child. I’ll be prayin’ for ya to come back with Master Chris. Good Lord knows that man be needin’ a good wife.”
“I pray come back, too.” She breathed deep and forced herself to act as if she wasn’t terrified of what waited for her on the other end of her journey.
“God knows what He be about. You just rest in that promise and let Master Chris take care of ya.”
How good that sounded, to let Chris take care of her. She trusted him with her life. If only he would marry her instead of Don Joaquín. But ever the gentleman, Chris had held her so tenderly. Even after Padre Pedro left them alone to sort out the trip, Chris had stood staring down at her eyes. Twice his gaze had strayed to her lips, and her heartbeat had sped up with anticipation. But then he stepped back and turned away. He hadn’t touched her since. Would he have stolen a kiss if she had not already been betrothed to another man?
The funny sensations stirring in her chest and setting butterflies to flight in her stomach were new to her. She remembered being about six when one of Magda’s girls had talked about the excitement she felt when her intended had started to come courting. At the time, Vicky listened with some intrigue but never believed she’d experience anything remotely similar. Loving a boy had been as foreign an idea as meeting an Americano in the woods and saving his life. Now she’d experienced both.
“It’s time to go, Vicky.” Chris held Tesoro’s and Comet’s reins in his left hand, offering his right to help her climb down the steps. He wore his hat pulled down, its shadow hiding his face. Padre Pedro had already mounted up, waiting a few paces away from them as if giving privacy for their last words.
Chris dropped the reins, stepped closer to her and lifted her at the waist. He set her in the saddle, his hands lingering longer than necessary for her to find her balance. He made a show of checking the cinches and fiddling with the stirrups and her boots. Had they not taken dozens of rides together, she might have thought he doubted her ability to ride a horse. But she knew his extra attention was his gentle way of showing concern for her. With a curt nod, he handed the reins to her, mounted up on Comet and headed out.
“Goodbye, Vicky. Don’t be forgettn’ ’bout us, now. You come back soon, ya hear?” Nana Ruth called out from the door.
“Goodbye, Nana Ruth. I come back if God will.” Oh, how she hoped it would be God’s will. But as she drank in her last glimpse of the cabin and the neat yard, sturdy barn and corral, something fractured in her chest and her breath caught.
She’d always been the brave girl, tagging along with her older brother and his best friend, having to pretend to be stronger and more courageous than she really was in order to play with them. She wished she could pretend as well today. The newly built bench Chris had said he’d made for her called out to her. She had dreamed of sitting there, her knitting at hand, watching Chris work with the horses as the seasons passed. How could she leave this place? The horses in the corral nickered their farewells. She tasted the salt of her tears she could no longer hold back.
* * *
The sun stood high in the sky, peeking between the heavy evergreens. Even after six years, Chris still found the gigantic redwood trees awe-inspiring most days, but as they followed the path out to the main road, he didn’t even notice them. No, his eyes kept straying from scanning the woods for danger to land back on Vicky as she rode a few paces in front of him. The elderly priest had taken the lead, an unspoken agreement between the two men to keep Vicky in between them on their travels.
How unlike any of their other rides. Vicky didn’t sit comfortably in the saddle, exclaiming over the wildlife or plants that they passed by, animatedly chatting with him, learning the English words for everything. Instead, she sat rigidly, as if afraid to relax. Since leaving the yard, she hadn’t made eye contact, even though she glanced quickly over her shoulder as if checking to see that he still followed.
When they arrived at the main road, Padre Pedro stopped and spoke in quiet tones with Vicky, and then they both dismounted. Chris hopped off Comet and barely caught Vicky as she stumbled. “Careful.” He kept his arm around her waist as she took her first tentative steps. “Are your ribs hurting?” he asked.
“No, I not hurt,” she insisted even as she leaned closer to him. He felt her breathing catch, and then as she took a few more steps, it eased a bit. He’d have to keep an eye on her for the rest of the trip. He grabbed a saddlebag with their lunch of tortillas, rabbit meat, salsa and some greens that she had found in the woods the week before, all rolled together and fried so it would stay together. She called them flautas or “flutes,” and they weren’t nearly as messy to eat as the tortillas.
Padre Pedro had already set a blanket out on the ground. As they approached he watched Chris and Vicky with a curious glint in his eyes, and then he held out a hand and helped Vicky sit on the ground. He took the bag from Chris, said a blessing over the food and then parceled it out. They ate, much as they had ridden all morning, in silence, each face drawn and showing concern.
“Where will we stay tonight?” Chris asked Vicky once they had finished lunch. Padre P
edro had walked into the woods, but Chris suspected he hadn’t gone far.
“We get hacienda in one or two hour, say Padre Pedro.” The actual hacienda was vast enough that it took over two days to travel from one end to the other, but once they were on Ruiz land, it was just a matter of time before they encountered Ruiz men. Would they accuse him of having kidnapped Vicky or worse? And yet, even if they attempted to string him up, he would willingly give himself up rather than let Vicky face trouble on her own.
“On hacienda mi abuelito, papá de mi papá, make little houses. Cabanas? For vaqueros.”
“Little cabins for the cowboys?” Chris clarified.
“Sí, for when they stay with vacas, cows.” Vicky’s face lit with excitement. She smiled for the first time the entire day as she continued. “When Berto take to hunt, we sleep in cabin. When I look for Papá—” her face clouded slightly “—I no go back to house but stay in cabin for look for Papá, but snow come and I stay two days in cabin.”
“So you stayed in a cabin for two days before you came to my house?”
“Sí.”
“So why didn’t they find you? Wouldn’t they have searched for you when you didn’t show up that night?” Chris watched her face for any clues as to what had happened.
“I no know.” She shrugged, but he saw the masked pain in her eyes. “I tell José Luis I go with mi papá to meeting. Maybe he no look because think I with Papá.”
“Well, we’ll find out soon. If we stay at the cabin tonight, we should arrive at the main house tomorrow.” He tried to smile despite the dread in his own heart weighing him down.
She missed her family and needed to be back with them. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Then he could turn around and head back to his cabin, out in the woods away from “civilization.” Unlike other times, the thought of his beautiful home and the solitude he traveled halfway around the world to find didn’t soothe his mind or bring him comfort.
Rescuing the Runaway Bride Page 12
