Heaven On Earth

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Heaven On Earth Page 7

by Constance O'Day-Flannery


  Hearty laughter resounded around the polished plaster walls and ceiling. Casey turned and looked across the lovely foyer below. Lush greenery in large clay pots all about the house gave a feeling of vibrant life. She imagined Luke and Don Felipe smoking cigars and drinking brandy from crystal snifters in antiquated fashion beyond the closed doors.

  "Venga, Señorita Casey," the woman's voice called.

  Casey inhaled deeply as she turned back and entered the room. She watched as the last thick candle was placed into a lantern and hung from a wooden bracket in the wall. As the light grew, she saw it was a very warm and inviting bedroom with a heavy four-poster bed, a huge, ornately carved wardrobe, and a wine-bottle-shaped fireplace built into the corner.

  "Desculpa—" The woman hesitated, as though to correct herself. "Wait, por favor."

  "Okay. No problema." Casey weakly smiled in return.

  Nodding again, the solemn woman left her alone. Casey looked around the room and sighed. She ran her hand over the soft blanket on the high bed and immediately felt gratitude well up in her chest. She might not have been able to secure a room on her own, but Luke certainly had come through with a fine one. Taking off his coat, she removed her wallet and put it on a small table before placing the heavy coat on a chair. He really had watched over her, and whenever she found her sister, they would have to reward him for all he'd done.

  Looking toward the bed, she again sighed. How she wished she could just crawl up into it, yet she knew it would be terribly impolite not to wash the sand out of her hair and off her tired body first. She felt like it was in every one of her pores, and wondered where the bathroom was. The woman she guessed was named Marcella told her to wait, so she would, but she hoped somebody showed up soon, for she found she could barely keep her eyes open.

  Sitting down on top of Luke's coat, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Finally she could relax, and yet… in her mind she saw Luke walking out of that lightning and her eyes immediately snapped open. Nobody could do that.

  Who was he? What was he?

  He seemed normal, well, outside of his crazy time-travel concept that is. Maybe he was one of those New Age people, with his talk of energy and chakras and stuff that she didn't understand. And what was with that crystal? Yeah, he had to be one of them. Nice, but weird.

  There was no more time to ponder as a quick knock came on the door. Even before Casey could answer, it was opened as several young teenagers, all dressed in simple white tunics with bare feet, entered with Marcella.

  Two young boys placed a large, round, hammered-copper tub in the room, and Casey stood up in shock. They didn't expect her to bathe in that! Four pails of steaming water were being poured by two small girls as Marcella stood by and supervised. Suddenly Casey realized they must be servants, and she was saddened to think they had obviously been awoken from their sleep to attend her. Everyone appeared to be Hispanic or maybe Indian, and Casey wasn't sure she could explain her dilemma without offending anyone.

  An older girl went to the fireplace and began lighting the small logs inside. The flurry of child labor around Casey made her weary body ache even more with empathy for them. This surely was one hell of a day, she thought, biting her bottom lip. Nothing was normal. Not even a simple bath!

  Abruptly the reality of human necessity surged through her entire body. "Umm, excuse me… Marcella?" Casey asked in a hesitant voice. "Where is the bathroom?"

  "Perdóname?" The woman looked puzzled.

  "Ahh… a toilet?" She couldn't remember the word, and she was not about to mime that one!

  "Ahh… sí!" Marcella stooped down and reached under the bed. She brought out a pretty painted, glazed bowl and handed it to her.

  "You don't understand. I mean, a toilet… where I can sit down." Casey felt tears of frustration coming into her eyes and she fought to control them.

  The slightly taller woman held out the bowl to her again. "Sí… lavabo."

  This was not happening. She would go without a bed before going without a real toilet! Casey turned around and looked at the polished dark wooden door they had entered from. She needed to talk to Luke, for she wasn't making any progress with this woman. They simply were not communicating.

  "Señorita Casey," the woman repeated questioningly. "Lavabo?"

  Casey spun back around to the woman still holding the heavy bowl out to her, and sighed. "Oh-kay, it's like this." Mortified, Casey mimicked sitting on a toilet and flushing, even making the sounds of running water. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to stare at her, the younger girl covering her mouth with her hand to hide a giggle. The stoic woman said something very sternly, sending them all rushing out of the room.

  Marcella insistently placed the heavy bowl in Casey's hands and flatly stated, "El orinal," then followed the others, closing the heavy door after them.

  Casey stared at the closed door, the steaming tub of water, the bowl in her hands. This was unbelievable! She didn't mind roughing it, had even camped a few times…but this was, well, it was a fine house! There had to be a toilet somewhere in the place… unless this really was…

  No, she would not allow her mind to wander there again.

  Placing the bowl back on the floor, she walked over to the tub and put her fingers into the water. It was hot and enticing and she saw there were thin linen towels draped on the crude tub handles. She resigned she could do this at least. Pulling off her sweater, she felt and heard sand scatter around her and was sorry to mess the spotless room. She slipped out of her shoes and unzipped her jeans. Folding everything neatly, even her underwear, she placed the bundle on the end of the bed. Casey bit her bottom lip again and tiptoed back to the tub. Gingerly she crawled in and slowly sat down, allowing the shallow pool to envelop her, to cleanse her pores of sand and dirt. She closed her eyes momentarily as the warmth began to ease her tired, aching body. She cupped the water in her hands and poured it over her exposed knees and shoulders, feeling the intimacy of the trickle down her spine. She took a deep breath and sat motionless for a few moments. Exhaling, she folded her arms around her legs and rested her chin on one knee. Curled in a fetal position, she opened her sleepy eyelids and gazed at the fire in the corner which was now flaming higher. Relief spread through her as the threads of fear seemed to float away with the wisps of steam surrounding her, yet the disappointment of not being able to contact her sister still lingered in her heart.

  Another knock sounded at the door, interrupting her peace, and Casey instinctively covered her breasts with her hands as it slowly opened. She couldn't believe her eyes!

  "Oh! I am so sorry," Luke mumbled in embarrassment as he averted his gaze back out to the hallway. "I… I just wanted to check with you that you… you had everything you needed before I retired."

  "I am fine!" Casey snapped, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, and it wasn't the temperature of the water! Dear God, what more could this night hold?

  "I… I sincerely apologize for disturbing your bath," he muttered, and Casey noticed his own tanned cheeks were now blushing with embarrassment as his hand grasped the doorknob.

  Even though he wasn't looking at her, she tried to make her body sink farther into the water, yet it was impossible. "I told you, I'm fine. Please… just leave!"

  "Yes… yes, of course," he answered, shaking his head at his own lack of manners. "I will see you in the morning. Again, I apologize for intruding." The door was quickly shut.

  She stared at the heavy wood and was tempted to get up and lock the damn thing. Sheesh, was she never to get any privacy around here? What an embarrassing scene!

  He did seem rattled, though. Really rattled…

  Put the man out of your mind, far out of your mind. Relax now, Casey… don't think, she advised herself as she attempted to regain her last sense of peace. Sighing deeply, she pulled a dull, softened tan block from the bottom of the tub. Guessing it was the soap, she sniffed it and found the scent was not too appealing. There was no one to call now that s
he was finally alone, and she'd already been shown so much courtesy, she couldn't imagine requesting anything more. She began spinning the slippery bar between her hands, creating a lather.

  Thank goodness her hair was short, for it took a contortionist to wash it, but she did manage and then collapsed back against the copper tub. Maybe she would just fall asleep here. As weary as she felt, she didn't know if she even had the energy to get out and make her way to the bed. All she needed was a few hours of sleep and some food when she awoke to reenergize. Then she would find Amy and end this madness. Luke was a very nice man, but she needed to find reality… and a real bathroom.

  Casey's mind wandered to the luxuries of modern conveniences and her sister's home, where Amy must be very worried, waiting for her to arrive. She wished there were some way to let her know she was okay. Poor Amy. Casey was sure the police had found her rental car by now and had traced it back to her. Amy would have called the airlines to make sure she'd arrived, then probably would have contacted the police…

  The police! That was what she should do tomorrow… find the police.

  Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it sooner? Now she had a plan that made sense. Feeling somewhat better, Casey lathered the crude bar of soap in one of the small linen towels with which she'd been provided and began vigorously scrubbing every inch of skin. As she brought her left foot out of the water, she was surprised to see that it wasn't bruised or even blistered.

  What had happened to her… really? She'd been hit by lightning, that much she knew, and she remembered feeling like she'd been hurled into a relentless tempest of sand and wind. She recalled the intense pain that had racked her body and the fleeting thought that she might be dying. Then Luke had come and wrapped her in his coat and arms, protecting her from the storm, and she'd felt… safe, stronger, healed. What had he done? What kind of magic did he possess that even Maria felt while giving birth?

  There would be no answers now, she thought, and sighed deeply. Deciding it was time to get out of the water, she looked around the room and realized she'd left her clothes folded on the bed, so she reached down along the side of the tub and grabbed the long length of cloth that hung from the handle.

  Wrapping herself in the thin towel, she stood for a few seconds against the fire's glow and allowed the water to drip off her body before stepping out of the tub. Okay, she wasn't at the Ritz-Carlton or the Hilton, but at least she felt cleaner. She began patting her skin to absorb the remaining moisture and was startled by a quick knock and the sound of the door opening.

  Marcella and another woman came into the room, carrying clothes and a tray of food.

  Casey smiled shyly and thanked the older woman, who handed her a soft white cotton nightgown with layers of frills on the sleeves. "Gracias," Casey said softly.

  Marcella walked to the wardrobe and hung up what looked like a colorful skirt and a white blouse while the younger woman placed the tray on a small table. The two young girls who had filled the tub earlier now entered and pushed it out of the room. Marcella waited until they were finished, then picked up Luke's coat and nodded to Casey.

  "Buenas noches, Señorita Casey. Dulce sueños."

  Casey remembered enough to translate the woman's good-night wishes. "Buenas noches," she replied, still clutching the towel to cover her nakedness.

  The door was latched shut again and Casey let out her breath. Okay, this was it. She was here, and as far as she could tell, there was no toilet. She removed the towel and folded it over the back of the chair to dry, then picked up the soft nightgown and slipped it over her head. It fell to the floor and felt wonderful against her skin. Don Felipe certainly knew how to extend his hospitality, and she wondered whose nightgown she was wearing. It really was lovely and she felt very feminine, even though her stomach rumbled loudly with hunger, and her desire for a bathroom wasn't lessening.

  She looked at the food on the tray.

  She looked at the bowl on the floor.

  She looked back to the food; she'd deal with the bowl later.

  He stood in the hallway, willing his mind to wipe away the scene he'd just witnessed, yet he couldn't help the response in his body to the sight of such a lovely, though irritated, woman bathing. He found himself slowly grinning. She really was attractive, he thought… again. When he'd first come upon her in the sandstorm, he'd caught his breath at the sweet innocence in her eyes, and the sensation of her breath against his chest. Yet there was another side to her, contrasting that innocence. Casey O'Reilly would be a handful, as her feisty Irish temper had already shown him.

  Luke straighted his shoulders and dug his hands into the pockets of his trousers as he walked away. It had been years since he'd let a woman have an effect on him, and now wasn't the time to allow it to surface. Better to step back and remain in the role of mentor. He was here to return her to her family. That was all.

  Wasn't it?

  Four

  A gentle breeze played with the lace curtains in the window. She felt the sun's comforting warmth against her face as her eyelids fluttered closed again. Snuggling into the soft pillow, Casey sighed with pleasure and luxuriated in the sensuous feel of the clean sheets. Lying on her stomach, she smiled, thinking of her great dream of a handsome man who looked like a cross between Antonio Banderas and an angel… a man who was so sexy she moaned as she ground her belly into the mattress and swore she was in heaven. She was quite content to stay in her sensuous morning haze until—

  "Good morning, Señorita Casey."

  Her eyes flew open and she stared at a dark-skinned woman with long black braids and a friendly smile standing beside the bed. Casey thought she must still be dreaming, and blinked. She wanted to go back to the peaceful slumber of only moments ago, yet there was a sensation crawling over her skin now that said she was awake… wide-awake, and something was very wrong.

  Quickly she flipped over and slid up to the pillows, clutching the sheets to her chest. "Good morning," she whispered, blowing a blonde lock of hair from her face.

  The older woman smiled and stood silent for a moment, as though allowing Casey's senses to emerge and focus. From her sleepy vantage point, Casey could tell the woman was about the same height as she, but had a much healthier build. The loosely fitting natural gauze blouse gathered with strings at the low neckline and upper arms was a lovely contrast to her bronze skin. She wore a leather belt with a pouch slung to her side, and a simple brown skirt fell below calf length, revealing worn, plain leather sandals on her wide feet. The older woman's smile widened, revealing a large, toothy gleam.

  "I speak English, so I was asked to attend to you," the woman finally said, sounding very pleased with herself. "Not many of the servants here can speak it as good as Juana," she added, patting her ample chest.

  Casey only nodded, while still trying to make her brain work. It wasn't a dream? Luke was real? Before she could assimilate what was happening, a firm knock sounded on the door and Juana quickly walked across the room to open it.

  Luke stood in the doorway, looking fresh and devastatingly handsome. His black, curly hair was slicked behind his ears, clearly still damp from a bath. He wore a long-sleeved, white cotton shirt with embroidered white stitching on the broad collar. It was loosely laced halfway down his chest and tucked tightly into his form-fitting black trousers. The sandstorm dust of the night before was now polished away from his brilliant black boots.

  He smiled and Casey sat up straight, clutching the sheets tighter to her chest, acutely aware of her groggy appearance. Dear God, it was all real. He was real. This place was real. All of it…

  "Good morning, Señorita Casey," he said, producing a deep purple blossom on a leafy stem from behind his back while stepping into the room. "Did you sleep well?"

  She sat back against the pillows in an attempt to display her indifference to his gallant entrance, when her attention was drawn to Juana. She watched as the woman put the dirty jeans and sweater over her arm and then picked up the empty food tray. Juana
began walking toward the door and Casey quickly sat back up. "Wait," she called out. "I need my clothes."

  "They will be cleaned for you," Luke answered before Juana could speak. Casey watched the exchange between them. It was obvious that the older woman, too, saw something alluring about him as she coyly smiled at Luke in return. "Thank you, Juana."

  "De nada, Señor Luke." Juana curtsied as he closed the door after her. Turning back to Casey and still smiling, he again inquired, "How did you sleep?"

  "Like a baby," she answered, pushing the insistent, floppy lock of hair away from her eyes. "And I still need my clothes."

  "I'm glad you rested well, Casey." Luke nodded, pulling a cushioned and ornately carved wooden chair near the bed. He handed her the flower as he sat down. "Again, I apologize for last night's intrusion."

  She was immediately embarrassed at the thought of him seeing her naked, and tried to play it off with a shrug. Accepting his offering, she closed her eyes and sniffed the fragrant blossom. "Thanks, it's very pretty." She raised her head and looked him squarely in the eyes. "But let's not avoid the subject any longer. I need to get my day started, and you could offer me a greater gift by getting my clothes back, thank you."

  An amused smile came to his lips as he brushed his forefinger over his nose. "Your clothes will be cleaned and returned to you. Last night I believe you were given something else to wear, something more appropriate for this time?"

  "Oh, jeez…" she muttered, flopping back against the pillows and shaking her head. "We're back to time travel again? My clothes are just fine for this time," she continued defiantly, "and by the way… where is the bathroom in this house?"

  He chuckled and shook his head. "There are some adjustments, Casey. Lack of modern facilities is just one of them. You simply must accept where you find yourself now," he stated softly.

  "Look, Luke…" she insistently began while using the flower to point at him, "I accept that I am in Santa Fe, here to visit my sister Amy, who is by now probably worried sick over me, and I need my clothes back to get to her." She waved the flower back and forth. "Now, I truly appreciate everything you've done and the kindness of these people who have welcomed me into their household—"

 

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