Catch Me in Castile (3 page)

Hearing his name paged over the intercom system while making rounds, Santiago picked up the nearest wall phone. “
Bueno
, Doctor Botello.”

“Do you live at that hospital?”

“Maria! Are you all right? Is everything—?”

“Fine. Everything’s great. I’m coming home.”

Santiago didn’t say anything for a long moment. Shifting the receiver to his other hand, he leaned into the cold wall and lowered his voice. “No. Too dangerous.”

“I’m tired of running from my own shadow.”

“We all are. You know what’s at stake.”

“I want to come home. I miss life in Spain. I miss you.”

Her voice sounded so thin and fragile that the childhood memories he was usually able to keep at bay came roaring back. Sorrow settled across the thousands of miles between them. “We’ve gone over this. I need you to stay in Los Angeles.”

“I can’t be afraid any longer, Santiago. I won’t. I’m sorry you worry. You’re my big brother, that’s your job, but I’m a grown woman. Stronger than you think.”

“Maria, this…thing…is bigger than you. Bigger than both of us. Stay in California where you will be protected. Please.”

“Yeah, and what happens if the ‘thing’ gets me in California?”

His breath sucked in sharply. “Something happened. The darkness has come back?”

“No, God, relax. Just stating the obvious. California, Spain, what’s the difference? It’s over. Let it go, okay?”

“But—”

“Hey, I didn’t tell you. I’m bringing a friend with me.”

“To Spain? No, Maria. You can’t.”

“She’s great. You’re going to love her.”

“Maria, listen to me. It’s far too risky.”

“I know the two of you will get along. She’s very smart, funny. Well, usually. She’s going through some emotional problems right now.”

“Emotional problems.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “So you met this friend at—”

“Work. She’s a stockbroker at the firm. Was. Anyway, I like her, I want to help her get through this tough time, so I’m bringing her home with me for a few weeks.”

“Not a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea. She needs help, I need to help someone. It’s perfect. I’m tired of being the victim.”

He pressed his palm to the headache burrowing deep behind his forehead. “What are you going to tell your friend?”

“Nothing.”

“Maria.”

“She’s not strong right now. I don’t want to scare her with horror stories.”

“Tell her,” he said firmly. “She might decide not to come if she knows the truth.”

“I want her to come. It will be good for her. For us. Think of how much fun we can have, the places we’ll show her.”

He could only think about pending disaster. “At the very least, your friend should take precautions.”

“She is
never
going to know! She’s my best friend and I don’t want to spook her needlessly.”

“Holy Mother, I’m not saying scare the poor woman. Just…warn her.”

“Let me handle this.” Her voice screeched through the receiver. “Swear you won’t tell her.”

He closed his eyes. A clear memory of his little sister came to mind. She ran after him, desperately trying to keep in step. Wearing her favorite pink-flowered dress and matching ribbons tied around her bouncing pigtails, she was a tiny flash of color on a dark, dismal day. How innocent she was. They both were. The vision squeezed his heart. She was only nine when their lives exploded.

He hadn’t wanted her running beside him then as he followed the coffin bearers into the cathedral. He’d been weak with grief and shame because he wasn’t old enough to carry his father to rest. Too young to bear a man’s body, but old enough to shoulder his responsibilities.

Though the bells had tolled so loudly that day he thought his broken heart might shatter in his chest, still he could hear his sister’s voice.

“Swear everything’s going to be all right.” She had tugged on the sleeve of his only suit jacket.

It wasn’t. Things would never be right for them again. But she was his little sister. His responsibility.

“Everything’s going to be all right,” he had promised. It was an oath he couldn’t keep.

He blinked back the memories. “I swear I will not say anything to your friend unless something goes wrong.”

“What could go wrong? Jeez, you worry like an old granny. I’m going to call you Old Lady Garcia. Remember how she used to glare at us through her window, her nasty wrinkled face spying on us every time we passed her ugly old house?” She laughed like a child.

He rarely laughed anymore and certainly not about this. “Maria, I wish you would reconsider. Stay in LA where I can keep you safe.”

“Enough, Old Lady Garcia. A trip to Spain is what Erin needs right now. It’s the best thing for her. And me. Love you.”

He stood there a long moment with his forehead pressed to the cold wall, the receiver dead in his hand. Then he did something he hadn’t done in a long time.

He made the sign of the cross over his chest and prayed.

Two weeks to the day of my meltdown, we were seated on the plane looking down on puffy clouds. I smiled at Maria. “It’s not the corner office, but I finally have my window seat, don’t I? At least for the duration of this flight.”

“Coffee?” A flight attendant passed by with her little crash cart of caffeine.

“No,” Maria said.

“She means yes.” I smiled. “Preferably hot and dangerously, mind-melding strong.”

“Since when do I drink coffee?” She frowned at me.

“You may be able to survive mornings without caffeine, but I can’t.”

“Aya, you remind me of my brother. He’s a coffee fiend too.”

“Sounds like my kind of guy.”

“Not really. He’s a nice guy.”

“Ouch!” I pressed my hands to my heart. “I admit I don’t have much experience with that sort of male, but I could learn to do nice.”

“Excuse me?” She lifted her brow. “You’re not
doing
this one. You haven’t even met him yet.”

“I didn’t mean—”

She rolled her shoulder into mine. “Kidding. I hope you two do hit it off. You could both use a little…distraction.”

“Uh-hmm,” the flight attendant interrupted. “How about I get you your own cup?”

“Yes, do. And don’t forget hers.” I grinned.

The flight attendant poured both cups and handed them to me with a constipated smile. “You know I can refill these?”

“Good, maybe when you come back around. Thanks.”

Maria shook her head at me. “She’s going to spit in the next cup.”

“Ewww.” Silently, I sipped the hot elixir and slowly came alive, one nerve ending at a time. With closed eyes, I thought,
Saint Starbuck, you deserve a special seat in heaven.

“You were too good for him, you know,” Maria softly interrupted my near-orgasmic caffeine experience.

“Hmm?” Opening my eyes, I was surprised to see her leaning in, focusing intently on my face.

“Jack didn’t deserve you. And you should do
nice
next time around.”

Unwanted memories flooded my thoughts. The last image of Jack’s handsome face swam into view. Slightly blurred by bitter, angry tears, it was lodged in my brain like a photo I had no business keeping.

The truth was, there was no
tomorrow
with Jack. Only now and maybe ten minutes from now. We’d been sinking in a kind of relationship quicksand where people don’t move forward, or backward. They just sink. I crumpled the mental photo into a ball and tossed it back into the past.

“You know how they say hindsight is 20/20? Why does foresight have to be so darned blind?” I smiled weakly. “He offered to write a glowing letter of recommendation.”

“Really? Which of your attributes was he going to recommend?”

I lifted my cup. “Head of shit.”

“Forget him.” She lifted “our” coffee cup and carefully clinked it with the one in my hand. “We’ll have a blast in Salamanca. Focus on that.”

Focus
was one of Dr. Stapleton’s buzzwords. The sound of it caught me off guard. “Should I find a hotel? I’d hate to impose on your family.”

“Stop saying that. Are we, or are we not, friends?”

“The best.” I smiled at the serious lines forming between her eyes.

“You’ll be safe at my house. I promise.”

Safe?
“Is Salamanca crime-riddled?”

Her beautifully manicured fingers clutched the crucifix hanging around her neck. “I’m just saying sometimes people need a little looking after. I’m here for you. That’s all.”

My eyes watered. “You’re wonderful.”

“Yes, I am. Now, why don’t you rest? You look dead tired.”

I gave her a dirty look. “And you need to work on your flattery skills.”

She shrugged. “It’s the truth, Erin. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

That was the truth, but I wasn’t going to admit it. “Okay Esteem-Builder. I’ll rest.” I kicked off my shoes, pulled my knees up and fluffed the little blue pillow as best as I could. Then I made the mistake of closing my eyes.

Dangling like a dried-up leaf, I hang onto the tower’s window ledge by a single limb—my own bloody arm. None of my twenty-nine years flash before my eyes. What I see, hear and feel is spine-clawing fear. It tastes like acid on my tongue.

A gust of wind plasters me against the medieval tower. The rough sandstone scrapes my skin. My eyes begin to focus well enough to see the cream-colored castle with sharp spires and a blue-tiled roof. The window above me is big and as dark as a screaming mouth. The landscape is black beneath my bare feet. I can barely make out the rocks below the ledge I cling to for dear life. Jagged and sharp as a blade, those rocks can peel a person’s skin like a grape. They are about to peel me.

I scream for help. Over and over. It will never come. No one will catch me.

Another gust shoves me against the tower, slashing fresh cuts. I cry out, but the scratches are the least of my injuries.

I’m dizzy and seeing flashes of lights. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind. Focus. Losing consciousness is not an option. What is that smell? The pungent odor filling my nostrils turns my stomach. I open my mouth, trying not to breathe through my nose.

Blood.

My blood is everywhere. It runs like a spilled bucket of water down the sandstone. I blink it out of my eyes. Warm and sticky, it drips through the cracks in my fingers, making them slicker by the second. I tighten my grip. It’s no good. Nothing I do is ever any good.

I…am…slipping.

I scream, with every ounce of life left in me. And my fingers lose contact with the ledge.

“Hey.” Maria nudged me. “You were crying out in your sleep.”

The castle, the rocks, all gone. I was on the plane looking into Maria’s horrified face. I wiped the drool off my cheek. “Sorry.”

“Damn that Jack! He’s not worth losing sleep over. We need to find you a man who sees how special you really are, as a person, not just the best moneymaker in the place.”

She sounded like a shrink. It warmed my heart. “You think I’m special?”

“You need a real man who worships you. Goddess status.”

“What if—?” I blinked, swallowed hard. “What if I never find anyone like that?”

“You found a toad, why can’t you find a prince?”

“Because the pond’s crawling with toads?”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not out there.” She wagged a finger at me.

Feeling better, I forced the dream down deep where I shoved all my horrors. The nightmares and the panic never stayed put in the recesses of my thoughts. They crouched, biding their time to strike when I was the most vulnerable. My worst nightmare was that one day they’d take over completely and I’d become as crazy as the rest of my relatives.

I shrugged off the heaviness settling between my shoulder blades. Terror wouldn’t get me today. “I don’t want to think about men. Tell me more about Spain. What happens after we land? Do we need to rent a car?”

“My brother’s sending a car for us.”

“The coffee fiend.”

“Most respected doctor in the city. Too many awards to count.”

“You must be very proud of him.”

Her voice was soft. “After my father died, my brother took care of us. Mama was…distraught. There wasn’t much money. A trust, yes, but we couldn’t touch it until we became of age. My brother went to medical school and started his practice. Later, he sent me to school in the U.S. without touching my portion of the trust. Proud? There are no words.”

“Sounds like an amazing guy.”

“He is, but you’ll probably find him a bit guarded.”

No one did “guarded” better than I. “Does he need to be?” I asked.

“A handsome, big-hearted doctor? He’s a magnet for every lowlife female crawling the earth.”

“Ah. He’s not married.”

“Engaged once.” She blew through her lips in disgust. “A train wreck. I warned him about her. But you know men, they all have a basic need to be taken care of, even if the woman, the situation, everything is all wrong.”

I wondered about her theory. Did every man need a woman? Jack sure didn’t need me. Much. He liked having me around for the fun times, but emotional need? No, Jack’s need was not about me, or the organ he called his heart.

“That story doesn’t have the happy-ever-after ring to it.”

“She left him for another guy, maybe three whole days before the wedding. My brother was devastated.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Past history. Good riddance.” Her chin lifted. “Now it’s little sister’s chance to take care of him for a while. I’m dying to get home.”

Butterflies of excitement tickled my insides, loosening the knot of dread lodged in my chest. I couldn’t wait to get to Spain either. Forget about men, I thirsted for life. With any luck, I could outrun the misadventures of Erin Carter and start over fresh. I wouldn’t screw it up this time.

I’m going to get a life,
I promised myself.
Even if it kills me.