Golden Roses

by Patricia Hagan

  Feeling him tense with anger, she said, “You are my friend, Armand, and for now, that has to be all you can be. I have to make a life for myself. Only then can I think about falling in love.”

  He yanked her against him, searching her eyes in the misty moonlight as he murmured, “I am going to be more than your friend, Amber. Do not question love. When it happens this way, so suddenly, it is beautiful. Do not mar the beauty by questioning.”

  She shook her head. “We have to be patient.”

  “How can we be patient with Valdis causing trouble for you?” he cried.

  Understanding the depth of his frustration, she decided to tell him more. “Armand, there is something you should know.”

  He looked at her sharply.

  “Cord Hayden…promised to help me get away from here. He says he will work on a plan for escape. He said he couldn’t just take me away from here because Valdis would have us hunted down.”

  She watched his face for a sign of jealousy, and was surprised to see him smile.

  “Cord is my friend also,” he said softly. “I have told him of my love for you, and he will help us. Do not worry; the two of us will get you away from here. Oh, my moonstar, when I saw you last night, I knew my life would never be complete without you. I must have you. It is love. I have waited for this all my life.”

  His voice faded in the tremulous mating of their lips. Both were shaken when at last he murmured, “Do not question fate, my love. Go now. Tomorrow I will pay a visit to Valdis and tell him of my intentions. If he does not agree that I may court you, then Cord and I will take you away from his house.”

  She cried out, “No. It can’t be that way. You don’t understand—” But he had quickly moved away and disappeared into the woods.

  She stared into the night, reflecting on all that had happened. Armand had an entrancing effect, and maybe it was love. But how could she know? She had never been kissed until recently, and now she had been kissed by two men, each exciting her. Why was everything happening at once?

  Suddenly she heard a sound, and called out, “Armand, you are frightening me. I thought you had gone home.”

  There was silence. Amber felt her skin prickling. Had she heard someone, or something, in the shadowed woods surrounding her?

  Lifting her skirts, she ran to the house as fast as she could. In the distance behind her was the distinct sound of footsteps in the brush, and she knew, with a terrifying flutter in her chest, that someone had been out there…watching.

  Chapter Seven

  Early morning sunlight flooded the room and Amber sat up, startled, then relieved as she recognized Dolita. Apprehension returned, however, when she saw the girl’s face.

  Dolita cried, “Señorita, you must dress quickly. Señor Alezparito demands to see you at once. He is very angry.”

  “He can wait until I am good and ready,” Amber replied.

  “That is not all.” Dolita rushed to the bedside to whisper. “Señora Allegra’s maid told me that the señora wishes to speak with you even though the señor has forbidden her to speak with anyone. She told her maid to say that you must try to get in to see her.”

  Amber was pleased. Flinging back the covers, she said, “Good. I want to talk to her, too. Valdis can wait.”

  “Oh, no,” Dolita whispered, frightened. “If you do not go downstairs now, he will come up here, and if you try to see the señora first, he will find you there and both of you will be punished severely.”

  “Punished!” Amber scoffed. “Dolita, I refuse to cringe before that big bully. He may talk loudly and push people around, but he won’t hurt me.”

  Dolita was aghast. “No? Señorita, it is time you knew all of it. The señor is…is a killer. It is the truth.”

  It was the second time Amber had heard that. “Tell me, Dolita.”

  The maid glanced round in that fearful way that annoyed Amber so, as though the walls had ears, and then, in a voice so low Amber could barely hear, said, “He has tortured and killed children…Indian children. I know, because the children all came from my cousin’s village.”

  “Dolita, that is a very serious accusation,” Amber warned.

  “It is not an accusation. It is the truth. It happened about two years ago. The children had just learned to ride their ponies, and they came onto the ranch and went into one of the pens. They were chasing the bulls, teasing them, then running away. It was wrong of them, yes, but they were only children. Señor Valdis was furious. He took his men and chased them into the hills. He returned after a day. It was a week before my cousin and his people found the children—their scorched skeletons tied to charred stakes, where they had been tortured and burned alive.”

  Amber tried not to let herself feel what she was feeling. “I can’t believe that. They would have been arrested and hanged.”

  “Oh, no,” Dolita scoffed. “The señor is too smart for that. There was no proof, and he said he never found the children. The law would not care, not about poor Indians.

  “No, señorita,” she continued. “Do not underestimate him. He is not just a bully. He is evil. There have been other times when children were found in the hills dead, shot, the soles of their feet ragged and raw from running, as though they had been hunted down like wild animals.”

  Amber felt the bile rise in her throat as she struggled against disbelief. If what Dolita said was true, then she was in the hands of a vicious madman.

  “Do not cross him, señorita,” Dolita pleaded. “Even his own stepmother stays out of his way. Señorita Maretta also fears him, but from time to time she challenges him, and when she does, she suffers. I have heard her screams when he has beaten her, and I have tended her cuts and bruises myself. This isn’t gossip. I know what I know,” she finished raggedly, then blurted, “There is something else. Señor Valdis has given orders that you are to be under guard once again. There is someone outside the door now.”

  Amber took a long breath and let it out slowly. She looked at Dolita searchingly, beseeching the girl, and said, “I have to know I can trust you.”

  Dolita nodded. “I will do what I can, which is very little, I am sorry to say. But you can be sure I am your friend.”

  Amber told her about her friendship with Cord and Armand, that they were going to help her escape. Dolita smiled conspiratorially. “I have heard about Señor Mendosa’s interest, for all the servants have heard Maretta’s anger. But Señor Hayden,” she said with a frown, “I do not know about that one…”

  “What?” Amber asked. “Is there something I should know?”

  “There is nothing I can tell you, except that he is so mysterious. I do know that he used to sneak in to see Maretta in the middle of the night.”

  Amber went cold, then hot. “Are you sure about that?” she said sharply.

  “He came often, until the night she became angry and screamed and awoke the whole house. Señor Valdis was furious, but he knew only that a man had been here. Maretta would not tell him who it was. I knew, because I saw him leaving, but I never told anyone.”

  Amber was angry with Cord but angrier with herself for caring. Now she understood the remarks Maretta had made about Cord. She was even more glad to have Armand for a friend, for Cord Hayden was apparently immoral.

  “You won’t tell anyone what I have told you?” Dolita asked anxiously.

  “Of course not.” Amber gave her a reassuring hug and the girl smiled shyly. “We are friends, Dolita. We have to confide in each other.” She hurried to the dressing screen, calling over her shoulder, “Now I’m going to find out what Valdis wants, and then I am looking forward to finding a chance to see Allegra.”

  Dressed in one of the plain cotton dresses her grandmother had made, a light-blue gown with a high collar, long, tapering sleeves, and a slight fullness to the skirt, Amber pulled her hair back in a matronly bun at the nape of her neck. The last thing she wanted was to look appealing.

  Dolita directed her to the little room at the rear of the house that Vald
is used for an office, and Amber knocked softly on the heavy wood door. She heard him call to her to enter, and she stepped inside.

  A large desk of heavy, carved mahogany was strewn with papers and ledgers. There was a high-backed red leather chair behind the desk, with two smaller ones positioned in front. The floor was covered by a faded rug of red and gold braid. Tall bookcases lined three walls, and a large arched window afforded a splendid view of the valley behind. Despite the view, the room was stark and grim, like the man pacing angrily in front of the window.

  Amber decided at once his smile was faked, for his eyes were cold. “Good morning,” he said curtly, gesturing to one of the chairs. “Sit down. I wish to speak with you.”

  “I prefer to stand,” she told him firmly, and his facade fell apart.

  With giant strides, he moved to her and pushed her into the chair. “I said you will sit,” he snarled. “And when I give an order, you will obey.”

  Amber tried to get up, but he gripped hard and held her in place. “Listen to me. I do not wish to harm you. I wish for us to be friends. Good friends.” He emitted an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, Amber, do you not realize that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and that I want you with an agony too deep to describe?”

  “That’s a terrible shame,” Amber retorted, eyes blazing. “I want only to leave here, and if you will give me back my money—you stole it, I know—I will be on my way.”

  To her surprise, he laughed, releasing her as he propped himself against the desk, arms folded across his chest. “Sí, I took your money, señorita, but only to keep you from doing anything foolish, like running away. Your place is here. This is now your home, and here is where you will stay.”

  “I’m not staying, Valdis,” she told him evenly, coolly. “And you can’t make me. I am leaving if I have to crawl on my hands and knees and starve while I do it.”

  “No, no.” He shook his head from side to side, eyes twinkling. “You are going to stay here and accept my hospitality…and my good nature. You are going to learn how good I can be to you. I am going to be the king of this valley, and you, my lovely flower, are going to be my queen. You will want for nothing.”

  “And you are crazy!” She attempted to get up once more, but, laughing, he pushed her back down. “Valdis,” she cried, “I am warning you. You can’t keep me here against my will. I am not your prisoner.”

  “Oh, so you warn me, eh?” He chuckled. “Warn me of whom? Do you think I am afraid of Cord Hayden? Oh, I know how he took his time bringing you home yesterday. I know everything that goes on here, just as I know you sneaked out of my house last night to wallow in the bushes with that seducer Armand Mendosa.”

  “You spied on me,” she cried indignantly. “How dare you?”

  “How dare you bring scandal to my house?” he whispered, leaning closer to cup her face in his hands and squeeze. “I seek to protect you from yourself, my innocent beauty. Armand Mendosa conquers women as he does his bulls, and he regards them the same way. Perhaps he thinks it makes him a man to be a famous matador, but if he were a real man, he would honor the pledge of our fathers and wed my sister. Pah!” he scoffed. “He hides behind a red cloak like the coward he is. And I will not have him luring you into the bushes.

  “As for that gringo, Cord Hayden,” Valdis went on, “he runs from something. I have not yet been able to find out what he runs from, but I will. There must be a reason he does not return to his own country. He is probably a traitor, and I will not have my future wife in his company.”

  “I am not your future wife,” Amber cried, nostrils flaring as she fought for control of her temper. Damn him, her anger served only to amuse him. “I demand that you allow me to leave here at once. If my father were alive—”

  “If your father were alive,” he cried, “he would be in a drunken stupor, as usual. Your father! He was a sot! A no-good drunkard who married my stepmother thinking he would get her money, and he drank himself to death like the worthless bastard he was.”

  “No!” Amber screamed, attempting to stand again. He restrained her. “I will not stand for your talking about him that way. You have no right!” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she slumped in the chair.

  Valdis dropped to his knees before her, wrapping his fingers around her wrists and giving her a gentle shake. “Listen to me,” he commanded. “I do not wish to hurt you this way, Amber. I want only to be good to you, to love you and cherish you, and put you on the throne next to me. But you must stop fighting me, for there is no other way. You are going to be my wife. From the first time I saw you, I knew I had to have you. Never have I seen such beauty as yours. I will dress you in the finest fashions from Spain and Paris. I will give you jewels…anything you wish.”

  The fingers of one hand had moved slowly to caress her cheek as she stared at him stonily. Moving to the nape of her neck, he deftly undid the bun, then pulled her hair free, entwining his fingers in the long silver tresses. Pressing his lips against them, he murmured, “A goddess. That is what you are, my Amber. And you will be mine”—he raised his face, and she shivered at the light in his eyes as he hissed, yanking her hair painfully—“or I will see you dead! No man will ever have you but me!”

  She cried out and he released her for a moment, then grabbed her and pulled her to her feet. He crushed her against him as his lips sought hers. “No! Don’t touch me!” She struggled against him. Finally maneuvering her arm upward, she raked her nails across his face. He cried out in pain, releasing her, and she stumbled backward.

  “Go!” he shrieked, clutching his wounded face. “Go to your room and remain there until I send for you. You will change your mind and marry me, or you will rot in that room!”

  She fled down the narrow hallway to the foyer, where Dolita was waiting, looking frightened.

  Amber clutched her and whispered in desperation, “You must help me, Dolita. I can’t go to my room now. He’s going to keep me locked in there, and I have to see Allegra.”

  Dolita hesitated a moment, but when she was confident that Valdis was not coming after them, she led Amber through the dining room to a stairway at the opposite end of the enormous house.

  When they reached the second floor, Amber followed her instructions to wait in the shadows until she made sure there was no guard. Then Dolita motioned frantically for Amber to follow her to the door of Allegra’s suite. “Please do not be long,” she whispered. “He will come looking for you when he finds out you did not go back to your room.” She turned and fled back the way they had come.

  Amber did not take the time to knock, but opened the door and stepped into the shadowed foyer, calling out softly, “Allegra, it’s Amber. I heard you wanted to see me, and oh, dear Lord, I need to see you.”

  The voice was dull, utterly devoid of emotion. “Come in, and hurry.”

  Amber made her way into the room and crossed to the bed, sickened by what she saw. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she clutched the woman’s cool hands and said in a rush, “You have to help me. Valdis is going to keep me a prisoner here. He says if I don’t marry him, he will kill me. I have to get away. You are my only hope.”

  Only the dim glow of a candle burning beneath a crucifix gave any light, but Amber could see Allegra’s tired, drawn face, the limp, graying hair. Allegra looked emaciated, sick, and she barely had the strength to speak.

  Finally, she whispered, “I am sorry. I have no hope and I can offer none to you. I only wish I could, child.”

  Amber squeezed her hand gently. “You said you wanted to see me.”

  “Yes,” she said with an apologetic nod, “but only to warn you to leave, to get away from here as quickly as possible. But if Valdis has decided you shall stay, then there is nothing you or I can do.”

  Amber explained quickly. “I had some money, money that came from the sale of my grandmother’s house. Valdis stole it so I couldn’t leave. I’m not asking for anything that was my father’s…only what was mine.”

  All
egra’s smile was sad, and her tired eyes glimmered with tears of sympathy. “My child, if your father had had anything, I would gladly give it to you, but he had nothing. If I had anything, it would be my pleasure to give it to you. But I have nothing at all. Valdis has everything.”

  “There has to be a way out of here!” Amber declared. “Surely you can tell me a way out. A secret path? Anything!”

  Allegra struggled to sit up, reaching out to clutch Amber’s shoulder. She whispered hoarsely, “I cannot tell you how to leave here, only that you must go before it is too late. Valdis has done horrible things, unholy things. He deserves to die, and the holy mother of God herself would bless you if you plunged a knife into his black heart.”

  Amber went numb. To hear Valdis’s stepmother make such a shocking declaration was overwhelming.

  “Go now!” Allegra hissed, suddenly frightened. “Go before he finds you here. I have not the strength to sustain myself any longer. Go. Seek the help of anyone who is willing to help you. I hope…” She gave Amber’s shoulder one last, feeble squeeze before slumping back on her pillows. She stared up and said hollowly, “I hope you kill him.”

  Amber sat stock-still for a moment, staring at Allegra in silence, then quietly left the room. She could not endanger her any longer. If Valdis thought she had told Amber anything at all, he would beat her, and Allegra was too weak for that.

  A vaquero was standing outside the door to Amber’s room, and she returned his arrogant gaze coolly. He had a scraggly beard and was dressed in disheveled clothing, gun and holster hanging just below his waist. He tried to seem fierce, but she found him slovenly, not formidable.

  The Mexican grinned as he opened the door to Amber’s room. “Señor Alezparito has ordered you to remain in your room.”

  “Fine,” she snapped, brushing by him. “I’d rather be in here than out where I might run into that bastard you work for!”