Golden Roses (3 page)

“My name is Dolita.” The girl smiled, reaching to plump the pillows. Then she settled the tray across Amber’s lap. “You have slept for almost four days and nights.”

Amber gasped. “No wonder I’m starving.” She looked down at the platter of eggs and the large fried steak, and her stomach rumbled eagerly. There were large, crisp brown rolls dripping butter, and a bowl of orange slices.

The girl turned away. “I am going to bring hot water for your tub. You will want to bathe and dress. Perhaps you would like a walk in the garden later, for some fresh air.”

“Wait, don’t go yet,” Amber called so sharply that Dolita turned to stare. Forcing herself to sound calm, she said, “Tell me, please. How is Allegra? Do you think I could speak with her today?”

Dolita shrugged. “I do not know. I hear other servants talking, and they say she, too, remains in her bed and eats little. But maybe Señor Valdis has told her to stay in her room. He has been very angry lately.”

“Valdis?” Amber made no effort to hide her indignation. “What right does he have to give his mother orders?”

Dolita backed away, eyes wide with fear. “Forgive me. I speak out of my place, señorita, and if the señor hears that servants are gossiping, his punishment is severe. Do not repeat what I have said,
please
.”

“No, no, I will be careful,” Amber assured her, startled by the girl’s panic. “Please, Dolita. I want us to be friends. No one else in this house has been so kind to me,” she added. “I won’t repeat anything you tell me, I promise. Just please tell me what is going on around here? Why does Valdis think he can order everyone around now that my father is dead?”

Dolita tiptoed back to the side of the bed, clutching her hands in front of her, and whispered, “I cannot say very much, señorita. Please understand. But I will give you some advice. You would do well never to cross Señor Valdis, for he has a violent temper. Know your place, as I know mine…as Señora Allegra knows hers. Señorita Maretta seems to be the only one who isn’t afraid. Everyone else obeys him—always. You must do the same.”

Amber set aside the tray, threw back the covers, and leaped to her feet. “Now that my father is dead, I have no reason to stay. So I don’t care what Valdis wants.”

Dolita shook her head. “I do not think the señor intends for you to leave soon. He has ordered a dressmaker from the village to come here and fit you for gowns.”

Amber was aghast. “I have my own clothes!” she cried. “If there was one thing my grandmother did well, it was sew. She made me many lovely clothes.”

“Señor Valdis is very particular about how the Alezparito women dress. He insists they always wear the latest fashions from Spain and Paris, and the dressmaker is constantly making new gowns. I overheard him say that your costume for the funeral was…out of date. Forgive me.”

Amber sank back onto the bed, astonished. “I wore a dark blue dress and coat. They are old, but—”

“Please, I tell you only what I hear,” Dolita repeated nervously. “Understand that the señor controls everything here. His word is law.”

“Maybe since my father died he controls Allegra and Maretta, but he’d better not order me around.”

“Oh, no, señorita.” Dolita’s eyes grew more fearful. “The señor has always been master here. Your father, Señor Lyman, always knew it was unwise to cross him.”

Amber looked away. So. Her father had been intimidated. Then her first impression of her stepbrother had been correct. He was arrogant—and probably mean, as well. The sooner she left Mexico, the better off she would be. Going back to the small town in Louisiana did not appeal, but she had to leave here. Perhaps she could find a new town, a new home.

She decided to finish eating, take a bath, then dress and pay a call on her stepmother. She would gather what information she could about her father, having nothing left but other people’s memories. Then she would make arrangements to leave as quickly as possible.

Amber bathed quickly, then dressed in the gingham dress that had always been a favorite. It had a high neck, with soft ruffles around her chin, and the sleeves were short and puffy. She tied the long sash in a big bow behind her, liking the way the skirt fell in gentle folds, with a wide ruffle dusting the floor. Brushing her long hair, she used a bow of matching fabric to tie it back from her face and, with a twirl in front of the long, gold-edged mirror on the wall, decided she looked fine.

Turning to Dolita, who had been silently standing by, ready to assist, Amber asked, “Would you show me to the señora’s room? This is such a big house and I don’t know where I am.”

Dolita shook her head firmly. “I cannot. The señor has not said you could leave your room. If I show you the way to the señora’s, then he will be angry.”

Amber sighed. “Really, Dolita! I can’t imagine any human being provoking such fear. And he is not going to tell me when I can leave my room. Now, all you have to do is point me in the right direction. I won’t say you helped me. If you don’t tell me where my stepmother is, then I’m just going to have to wander around on my own, because I intend to see Allegra today!”

Dolita nodded reluctantly. “Very well. Perhaps it is best you lock horns with Señor Valdis. Then you will listen to me. When you go out this door, turn to your right and go straight down the hall. The señora’s door is in the middle, at the end of the hall. Her quarters occupy one end of the upper floor.”

“And where are Valdis’s rooms? I don’t want to go knocking on his door by mistake.”

“He has the entire third floor. A suite of six rooms.”

Amber felt resentment flaring. So Valdis had a whole floor! Why did he have better quarters than his mother had? What kind of power allowed him to rule his own mother?

She left her room and hurried down the hall, anxious to speak with Allegra. Standing outside the huge arched door, Amber took a deep breath and hesitated a moment before knocking. She waited, but there was no response. She knocked again, louder, looking nervously over her shoulder. She knew the time of reckoning with Valdis would come, but she did not want it to be just then.

She turned the handle and pushed the door open. Stepping into the dimly lit foyer, she called softly, “Allegra? It’s Amber. May I speak with you, please?”

There was a faint rustling beyond the foyer, and Amber walked softly into the bedroom. It was very dark. She could just barely see the bed, and she called once more, “Allegra? Were you sleeping? I’m sorry to barge in like this, but I must speak with you.”

The voice that answered was tired, old…and defeated. “I am awake, Amber, but you must not stay here. Valdis would not like it. Return to your room, please.”

Amber bristled, making her way purposefully to the bed. “I am not going to return to my room, and I don’t care whether Valdis likes it. I wasn’t going to bring this up, because you and I don’t know each other yet and I know you don’t want to discuss this with me, but just why is everyone around here scared to death of your son?”

Allegra huddled even deeper into the pillows. Amber sat down on the side of the bed. “You are right,” her stepmother whispered. “I do not wish to discuss this.”

“All right.” Amber shook her head. “I don’t plan to be here very long, anyway. But I want to ask you about my father before I go. Please tell me about him.”

“I do not know what you are asking me,” the frightened woman said.

“I hadn’t seen him in so very long. Now it’s as though a stranger was buried. Tell me about him,” Amber implored. “How did he live his last years? Was he happy? Did he miss me? Anything you can tell me, I will cherish. And I want to know…about his death.” Her voice caught on a sob. She struggled for composure, and continued, “Had he been ill?”

Some of the tension seemed to leave Allegra. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, her eyes boring steadily into Amber’s. Then, suddenly, she asked Amber to open the draperies. “I would like to see my beloved’s daughter, see whether his light shines in her eyes…”

Delighted, Amber hurried to the window, fumbling until she found the thick-braided cord and gave it a yank. The midday sun spilled into the large room. Turning, she saw her stepmother clearly for the first time.

She found herself looking at what had once probably been the most beautiful woman in all of Mexico. The black hair no longer gleamed, but hung limp and streaked with gray. The brown eyes were dull and sunken. But the remnants were enough to tell the story. This had been a great beauty.

Allegra Alezparito pushed back the thick quilt and moved stiffly to a sitting position. She was very thin, besides being so pale.

Allegra stared at Amber, lips parted, brows raised. “Why you are even lovelier than Lyman said you were,” she cried, tiny hands fluttering to her throat. “Your hair! The color of silver. And your eyes…oh, dear God, yes, blue, like his. And an exquisite body. Oh, to be young and as beautiful as you, Amber Forrest!” Allegra shook her head from side to side, blinking back tears. “You have the whole world before you, just as your father would have wanted.”

With a sob, Amber rushed to the bed, dropping to her knees before her stepmother. “Please tell me why he died,” she pleaded, assailed again by grief. “Please tell me anything about him. He must have loved you very much.”

Allegra stroked the silver hair for a moment, then beckoned her to sit beside her on the bed. “I will tell you all I can,” she said quietly. “The doctor said that Lyman probably never knew he had a bad heart. He died”—she hesitated briefly, then continued, her voice dropping—“in his sleep. There was no pain, no suffering. If it had to be, it was best that way.”

Allegra saw Amber’s hands trembling and clasped them in her own as she said, “And, yes, he did love me, Amber, just as he loved you. He was looking forward so happily to your coming here to live. I will admit that I had my doubts about your being happy here, on the ranch. It must be so different from anything you have known before. But your father wanted you here. And now you must think of this as your home.”

Amber pulled her hands away to wipe at her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t stay here, Allegra. It isn’t really my home. And, forgive me if it upsets you, but I don’t feel that your son and daughter would want me here.”

“Do not mind Maretta. She suffers from a love that is not returned, and it causes her to be bitter. As for Valdis…” Allegra paused to take a deep breath, as though mustering courage. “Valdis is difficult. It is best to avoid him altogether. He is proud. Too proud. But not proud enough to live up to his father’s good name,” she added to herself with a note of contempt.

Amber was startled. “I don’t understand.”

“I shouldn’t have said that to you, child. I will explain, however, so that you will see why you must not rile him.”

Amber listened, entranced, as Allegra admitted that Valdis was not really her son. Her first husband, Huelo Alezparito, had been married before, and that woman had died giving birth to Valdis, their only child. “Valdis was ten years old when I married Huelo, and the boy resented me. There had been only the two of them for so long, and he worshipped his father. Huelo was a great matador, known not only in Mexico but in Spain as well. Valdis basked in his father’s light, and did not want to share that light, or his father’s love, with me. I was only a poor peasant girl, besides being an intruder.”

Amber made a face. “It sounds to me as though he just never grew up.”

“There is more,” Allegra said solemnly. “Valdis was a witness when his father was gored to death in the ring.”

“Oh! I am sorry,” Amber gasped. “I never knew how your husband died.”

“Valdis was there,” Allegra continued as though Amber had not spoken, “but I was not. I was here with Maretta, who was only five years old. Valdis was sixteen.”

“Well, here again, I think it was a case of Valdis refusing to accept life,” Amber offered. “It was a tragedy, but life has to go on.” Dear me, she thought in wonder, who am I to sound so old and wise when my whole life has just been snatched away and I have no idea what’s to become of me?

Allegra nodded sadly. “I know, child, but you see, Valdis would not do as his father had always wished for him to do. His father wanted Valdis to become a matador. He refuses to fight the bulls, and he knows, as I do, that others talk about this and call him a coward. This makes him bitter, and like Maretta with her hopeless love, he takes out his bitterness on everyone around him.

“Believe me,” she sighed with deep resignation, “when I say it is best to stay out of his way. Valdis is what he is, and even I do not cross him. Why, I was not even allowed to take your father’s name when we married!”

“Did my father ever stand up to Valdis?” Amber asked bluntly, feeling a terrible need to know. When Allegra dropped her gaze and kept silent, Amber persisted. “Did he? Please tell me. Did they get along?”

She had to strain to hear Allegra’s miserable whisper, “Like me, he knew his place.”

“That is absurd!” Amber exploded, leaping to her feet. “This is
your
ranch!
You
should be in charge here.”

“I think you forget your place, señorita!”

Both women jumped, startled by Valdis’s cold voice. He stepped out from behind the foyer curtains, where he had obviously been eavesdropping. Allegra fell back upon the bed, shrinking before his rage. She scrambled to pull the covers up tightly to her chin.

Amber, quickly regaining her composure, stiffened and lifted her chin in defiance. “Begging your pardon, sir, but I do not have a place here at all. I shall take my leave as soon as possible.”