HisBootsUnderHerBed (21 page)

He trailed kisses down the slim column of her neck as his fingers freed the buttons of her shirt.

“You must stop, Garth,” she murmured weakly, and drew a gasping breath when he slid his hand under her camisole and its warmth cupped a breast.

At that moment, Saddle began to bark and ran over to investigate.

“What the hell!” Garth grumbled. “The damn dog never uttered a bark until now. If that mongrel doesn’t shut up, he’ll have everyone in the mission out here.”

The door to the rectory opened and a light pierced the yard from the lamp Father Chavez held above his head.

“Quiet, you four-legged Benedict Arnold,” Garth hissed, and stepped out of the shadows. “Sorry if we disturbed you, Father Chavez. I was just stretching my legs. Saddle must have seen something.”

“A kitten in the shadows, perhaps,” the priest said. “Garth, my son, you are the very person I wish to talk to. Will you join me?”

“Yes, Father.”

“If you will excuse us, Miss O’Grady?”

Flushed with embarrassment, Rory stepped out. “Of course, Father.” She sped off to the privacy of her room without a backward glance.

Benito hugged the shadows of the wall. The dog had almost betrayed his hiding place. Since nightfall, he had hidden behind a tree to observe the whereabouts of the others.

He would never have a better chance than now. She was alone. The jefe gringo was with the priest, the housekeeper, and the man they called Rico. The old man was with the other two gringos in a room at the end of the building. And the dog had trotted off to the stable.

He would strike swiftly and be gone before they even suspected that he was there.

Pulling a knife from the top of his boot, he stole stealthily through the shadows toward the rear of the house.

G
arth was surprised to see Elena and Rico when he entered the rectory. Both looked grave and he began to have an uneasy feeling.

The priest indicated a nearby chair. “Please sit down, my son.”

“If you don’t mind, Father, I think I’ll stand.”

“As you wish.”

“Is there a problem?” Garth asked. “You haven’t changed your mind about marrying us, have you, Father?”

“Nothing like that. But what I have to tell you might possibly be disturbing to you. It concerns Henry Fraser, Garth.”

“Uncle Henry? What is it?”

“I told you your uncle visited the mission many times, and that he converted to Catholicism. There is one other thing I did not tell you.” He opened a drawer and extracted a thick ledger. “Please read this, Garth.” He pointed to a line in the ledger dated Mayo Dieciséis, and the year 1847, followed by the names
Henry Fraser
and
Elena Chavez
.

“I’m sorry, Father, I’m very limited at reading Spanish. What does it mean?”

“It’s an entry registering the marriage of Henry Fraser and Elena Chavez on May 16, 1847.”

Garth snapped up his head in surprise and looked at Elena. “You mean my uncle married your sister?”

Father Chavez nodded.

As the full significance sank in, Garth looked at Elena and broke into a wide grin. “Then that makes you my aunt.” He walked over and hugged her, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Welcome to the family, Aunt Elena.” Struck by another realization, he straightened up and slapped Rico on the shoulder and extended his hand. “Guess that makes us cousins, Rico.”

“Does that disturb you, Primo Garth?” Rico said as they shook hands.

“
Primo
?” Garth asked.

Rico’s teeth flashed in a grin. “
Primo
means cousin, Cousin.”

“Why would it disturb me, Primo Rico? I’m proud to call you cousin, and indebted to you for saving our lives.”

“Elena and I were startled by the family resemblance between you and Rico when you first arrived,” Father Chavez said.

“I never noticed it. But come to think of it, Rory once mentioned she saw a resemblance between us. I thought she was talking about our personalities.” He teased, “Don’t tell her I told you, Rico, but she once said a woman would find you very handsome. So I guess it’s flattering for me to know there’s a family resemblance between us.”

Elena’s eyes glowed with pride and love as she looked at her son. She said, “Yes, he resembles his father greatly. Henry was a tall and handsome man. Rico was born five months after his father died.”

“Aunt Elena, you speak English very well.”

“Thank you. Your uncle taught it to me, as my brother and I did to my son. I wanted Rico to know his father’s language, so that Henry would always be a part of both of us.”

“Wow, this is an amazing revelation,” Garth said. “But why didn’t you tell me this when I first arrived, Father Chavez?”

“I was uncertain of your intent at the time, or whether you would even return from Montaña del Diablo.”

“We never would have, had it not been for Rico,” Garth said.

“My nephew knows the mountain well. That is why I summoned Rico to follow and keep a watchful eye on you.”

Some of the mysterious events that had happened became clear to Garth. “Rico, it was
you
who fired the shot that saved my life that first time, when bandits attacked the O’Gradys, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Cousin.”

“I’ve always wondered what happened to the wounded bandit who escaped from that fight.”

“His wound was minor but enough to fool Paddy into believing he was dead. I had to dispose of him when he escaped, or he would have returned with others.”

“And that time at the fish stream, or when—?”

“I swear on the holy book, Cousin, I was always discreet when any situation called for privacy.”

“Good Lord, if Rory knew all this, she’d never be able to look you in the eye again.”

“The truth will never go beyond this room, unless you are the one to tell her.”

Garth grinned. ““Let’s go and tell my brothers! After all, you’re their cousin, too.”

“Which may not please them, Garth.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You are Anglos, amigo, while I—”

“Just tell me one thing, Rico? Did you serve in the Union army?”

“No.”

“Good! It was beginning to look like there’d be more Yankee Frasers in this family than Confederate ones.”

After the two men departed, tears of joy glistened in Elena’s eyes, and she smiled at her brother. “Él es un buen hombre.”

Father Chavez nodded and patted her hand. “Sí, hermana. Garth Fraser
is
a good man.”

Clay, Colt, and Paddy were engrossed in a game of three card monte when Garth and Rico joined them.

Recalling his conversation with Rory, Garth said, “You fellows shouldn’t be gambling; this is consecrated ground.”

“That’s why we’re not using money,” Clay said. He threw down his cards in disgust and got up. “I can’t believe my luck. You must have stacked the deck.”

“Aha, fresh blood!” Colt exclaimed, raking in the winning pot of dried beans. “Sit down and join the game, gentlemen. You must excuse my brother’s outburst; these are the two biggest losers I’ve ever seen. It’s a good thing we aren’t playing for money, or I’d be the owner of a winery now and our friend Paddy here a poor man.”

“I think he’s cheating,” Clay grumbled. “I just haven’t figured out how.”

“You mean you just haven’t figured out how to play three card monte,” Colt rebutted.

“Well, put aside the cards, Midas. I’ve got something important to tell you boys.”

Paddy stood up. “I’m going to bed. And I’ll be thanking you to hold down the noise, so’s a man can get a decent night’s sleep.”

“Well, what’s so important you have to tell us?” Clay asked, as soon as Paddy left. “You aren’t going to bore us with a big thank-you speech for saving your ass, are you?”

“No. I figure that was payback for all the times I saved yours. But I think a welcome to the family is in order. Gentlemen, may I introduce
our cousin
, Enrico Fraser, the son of Henry and Elena Fraser.”

“What?” Clay asked.

“Uncle Henry and Elena Chavez were married shortly before he died.”

Both men broke into wide grins and pelted Rico with backslaps and handshakes.

“This is great! I can’t believe it!” Clay exclaimed.

“Wow! A cousin
and
a new sister-in-law. Cassie’s never going to believe me when we get back,” Colt said. “To think I once told her the Fraser family was dwindling. Welcome to the family, Rico. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Are you forgetting about our new aunt, too?” Garth pointed out.

“That’s right! Let’s go and find her,” Clay said. The two men hurried out the door.

Garth and Rico exchanged amused grins. “What did I tell you?” Garth said.

Then he and Rico followed behind them.

Benito ducked back quickly when the door to the rectory opened and the gringo Garth and Rico came out, crossed the court, and joined the other men.

After a short wait, when it seemed they were remaining there, he moved on. When he reached the rear door, he opened it cautiously and stepped inside into the kitchen. A dim light shone from under a door directly off the kitchen. That had to be the housekeeper’s room, where the woman was staying. He tightened his grasp on the knife and crossed the room.

Then he heard approaching footsteps and ducked into a closet, just as the housekeeper entered the kitchen. He watched through the open crack in the closet door as she
lit a lamp. Now he would have to kill her, too. She started to walk to the closet, and he raised the knife to strike.

Suddenly the two gringos burst into the room. Shouting joyously, one of them lifted her off her feet and carried her into the other room.

It was too dangerous to attempt his plan. A lamp was lit in the other room and the two men gathered around her, then the gringo jefe and Rico joined them.

Benito cursed the bad luck that had fouled his scheme. But the night was still young; there would be another opportunity.

He stole out the back door and into the shadows.

That night, with thoughts of his wedding in the morning and the revelation about his uncle on his mind, Garth was unable to sleep. He pulled on his boots and went outside.

It was past midnight and all the lights had been extinguished except for a single one at the gate, and one in the sanctuary.

Garth drew a deep breath. The cool mountain air was a welcome relief from the stuffy room. He sat down on the stoop and gazed up at the stars. Funny, how much closer and brighter they appeared in the mountains, as if he could reach up and pluck one out of the sky.

Saddle had been lying by the door and came over and lay down beside him. Garth began to stroke the dog’s head. “Can’t you sleep either, pal?”

Then recalling the earlier incident, he withdrew his hand. “I forgot, I’m mad at you. I thought you couldn’t bark. You sure picked the wrong time to prove me wrong.”

Then he began to stroke him again. “But you were right, pal, and I
was
wrong. There’s a time and place for everything, so thank you for reminding me.” Then he grinned. “But you didn’t have to alert the whole place when you did.”

Then after a short pause, Garth added, “Just the same, I miss her, Saddle. You do, too, don’t you? We’ve gotten used to her sleeping beside us, haven’t we?”

Garth got to his feet and, drawn by the light, he strolled aimlessly over to the sanctuary. The door was open and he stepped inside. With head bowed and deep in prayer, Father Chavez was on his knees at the altar. So as not to disturb him, Garth sat down on one of the wooden pews and glanced around.

The pews were scarred from two hundred years of wear and the center aisle was worn from the thousands of feet that had trampled its length. No costly statues or icons adorned the plain wooden altar, covered by a white cloth hemmed with gold fringe. No fancy tapestries or paintings decorated the plain adobe walls; a huge wooden crucifix hung above a large Bible that was set on the altar.

And yet Garth sensed an aura of reverence that rivaled many of the splendorous cathedrals he had seen in large cities throughout England, France, and the United States.

When Father Chavez finished, the priest rose and left the altar. He stopped in surprise when he saw Garth sitting in the pew.

“Garth, what is wrong, my son? Do you have a problem?”

“Nothing serious. When I saw the open door, I came in. Guess I’ve too much on my mind to sleep. Must be bridegroom nervousness.”

Father Chavez sat down beside him. “It’s not unusual for a man to have second thoughts about getting married.”

“I have no reservations about marrying Rory. I no longer can even imagine a life without her.”

“Then what is disturbing you, Garth?”

“I wish I knew. But don’t worry about me, Father Chavez. I think I’m just a nervous bridegroom.”

Father Chavez sighed deeply. “I, too, have a problem I am struggling with.”

“You, Father? So many others turn to you for advice that no one thinks about who you have to turn to.”

The priest’s face softened in a kindly smile. “I turn to God for guidance, my son. That is what I was just praying for.” He gazed around with reverence. “El Misión de La Dueña de Esperanza: it means ‘the Mission of the Lady of Hope’ The story is told that two hundred years ago, a small party of Spanish missionaries were being pursued by an overpowering band of Indians. Their situation was hopeless until suddenly a young Indian maiden appeared and led them to this spot, where they met up with a force of conquistadores. The soldiers succeeded in winning the battle, and the priests erected this mission in memory of that young woman.”

“How long have you been at this mission, Father Chavez?”

“Almost sixty years. I was just a young man fresh out of the seminary in Madrid when I came here to assist Father Howard. Tierra de Esperanza was a thriving town then.

“Now our town is dying. So many of the parishioners have moved on, and they grow fewer with every passing year. Those that remained are poor peasants. They give what they can afford, but their donations are small, so we depend greatly on the support of the diocese. I received a troubling letter today, which is why I have sought guidance at this late hour. The archbishop feels the mission is too costly to maintain and he is considering closing it.”

“Where would you go, Father?”

“I suspect they will retire me and transfer me to a parish in Sacramento or Stockton to live out my remaining years.”

“But what about Aunt Elena? This mission has been her home since she was a child, too. What will happen to her?”

“That is what lies so heavily on my heart—as well as what will become of my poor lambs. Who will teach them the holy word? Pray with them? Hear their confessions or give them communion? There will be no one to marry them, baptize their children, or bury their dead.” He shook his head. “What will become of them?” he repeated sadly.

The priest stood with a sigh. “Perhaps we both can think clearer in the morning, after we get some sleep. Good night, my son.”