The Christmas Treasure (12 page)

"Where are you going?" she asked drowsily.

"To the well." A dousing with cold water might ensure that he slept more comfortably, he thought grimly as he opened the bedroom door.
 

"Gabriel?"

"Si,
chiquita
?" He paused.
 

"I'm sorry."

"
De nada
," he lied. "It is nothing. Go back to sleep."
 

T
HE NEXT MORNING
Lorilla woke to find him watching her. She smiled and reached out to touch his face. When she did he caught her hand and kissed her palm.
 

Good morning," he said, smiling back at her.

A thrill of pleasure mixed with pain coursed through her. Pleasure at having him back home mixed with the pain of loss, of disappointment, and of having to deceive her husband. But she was determined that he not know she had miscarried. He did not need to be reminded of Elena or his mother. She would simply become pregnant again, and as soon as possible.
 

A twinge of pain in her lower abdomen reminded her that it would be a few more days before she could begin.

"How was your trip?" she asked. She sat up.
 

"My trip was fine. I longed every moment to be back here, but the meetings went well."

As Gabriel spoke, he watched her, his blue eyes intense. Lorilla inwardly cringed under his gaze. She had never lied to him. She wasn't sure she could.
 

"Lorilla? Are you feeling better this morning?" he asked softly, reaching out to catch a strand of her hair. He let it twirl around his fingers, then drop from his touch. He moved his hand to her cheek.
 

"A bit." She pressed a kiss into his palm. "I'm sure I'll feel fine in a couple of days."

Gabriel sat up and pulled her into the circle of his arm. She was relieved. She loved to lie against him, his arms protecting her. Plus this way he couldn't see her face.
 

"You're lying abed late this morning," she said.

"Si." His hand ran the length of her arm, caressingly. Then he slid his fingers beneath her arm to spread them against her abdomen. "I thought perhaps I might have better luck than I did last night. I'm feeling rather unappreciated."
 

Lorilla closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his hand, feeling her reaction deep within her. But as her muscles tightened in desire, a cramping pain caught her. She gasped.
 

Gabriel tensed, then sat up and pulled away from her. He grasped her shoulders, making her look at him. "What's the matter, Lorilla? How sick are you? And with what?"
 

"It's j-just my monthly," she stammered, refusing to meet his gaze. She shrugged. "It is worse than usual."

She felt his gaze on her, sharp, assessing. Steeling herself, she met his eyes. If she didn't look at him he would know something was wrong. If she did look at him, she was afraid he would read her grief in her eyes. Either way she was lost.
 

Gabriel stared at her. He had never seen her like this. Perhaps she was sick, but her actions told him there was something more. Her eyes held a sadness he'd never seen before. She had blossomed in the weeks she had been here. She had gone from a frightened but determined little mouse to a strong, confident
Patrona
. Gabriel had watched and enjoyed every moment of it.
 

But now, she was hiding something. And he was sure that whatever was wrong with her, it was not her monthly. In fact…he thought back, considering what he remembered of the past few weeks.
 

"Lorilla, when was your last monthly?"

Her gaze flickered away, then back to meet his eyes. "I suppose it was…last month."

He shook his head. "No. It has been well over a month since--" He stopped. He swallowed. A certainty began to build in him and with it came a slow growing, but relentless joy. He was afraid to give voice to his suspicion, afraid that to speak it might make it go away. His heart swelled in his chest until he could barely breathe.
 

"
Chiquita
?"
 

Lorilla's face had turned pale, and he could feel her arms trembling beneath his hands. Her head moved jerkily, once, as if in negative answer to his unasked question.
 

"C
hiquita
, are you with child?" His voice almost broke. "Are you? It has been weeks since--."
 

She shook her head again, her eyes wide. Then as he watched, tears welled, and one spilled down her cheek.

He touched a thumb to the tear, then pulled her into his arms, hugging her. "Don't worry," he said comfortingly. "You'll be fine. You're probably feeling sick right now. The first months are like that."
 

Her shoulders shook, and he felt the warm dampness of her tears as she buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder. "I know you're frightened, but I will take care of you. And Josepha knows all about babies."
 

She shook her head and a sob escaped her throat. Another thought pushed its way into Gabriel's consciousness. A bad thought. A horrible, unacceptable thought.
 

No, he wanted to scream. Not again!

He hugged her close, fending off the truth. Her body shook with sobs. He cradled her head with one hand and buried his face in her hair. "Please, Rilla. Stop crying."
 

Tears stung his eyes, and the empty cavern that had once been his heart, the cavern that had begun to fill up since Lorilla had come, gaped again. It cracked open like a crater in the earth, jagged and bottomless. With dreadful certainty engulfing him, he pushed her away and stared at her.
 

She was limp, held up only by his hands wrapped around her upper arms. Her face was red and blotchy from crying and her eyes were swollen, the purple shadows more prominent.
 

"Look at me, Lorilla," Gabriel said flatly. "Look at me!"

She lifted her gaze to his, and the sadness there put yet another crack in his heart. She sniffed raggedly.

"You lost the baby?" The words came out harsh, strained. Gabriel held himself together with the force of his clenched jaw.
 

Lorilla nodded forlornly. "I'm sorry, Gabriel. I'm so sorry."

"When? When did it happen?"

"Yesterday."

"Yesterday. I see. Why did you lie to me?" His jaw ached, his eyes burned. He felt as though each word he spoke slashed across his heart like a saber. He had not realized how much hope he had pinned on her until now.
 

Images of Elena, writhing in pain, the bedclothes soaked in blood, flashed before his eyes. She had miscarried twice. Then, on that awful night, while he was away, she had born his child, and she and the child had died. Angrily, forcefully, Gabriel pushed the agonizing memories away. He would not think of her. He could not.
 

Throwing himself up off the bed, Gabriel pulled on breeches and boots. When he turned back toward Lorilla, she huddled in the center of the bed, her arms wrapped around herself.
 

"Don't ever lie to me, Lorilla. Ever!"

"Wh-where are you going?"

Gabriel closed his eyes against the fear and loneliness in her voice. He turned away from her, unable to stand the sadness in her eyes. "I've wasted too much time here. We need to ride out and search for early colts." He kept his voice cold and distant. The irony was not wasted on him. He was leaving his wife, who had just lost their baby, to go search for newborn colts, in order to bring them to the rancho for safety.
 

"Gabriel?" Lorilla's voice was pleading, but Gabriel knew that whatever she asked of him, he could not provide, so he cut her off.
 

"Goodbye," he snapped. "I'll be gone several days." Then he stepped through the door and slammed it.

h

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was more than a week before Gabriel returned. Lorilla had recovered completely and had settled back into her routine. With Josepha's reluctant help, she had planted a garden. Josepha was appalled that the
Patrona
insisted upon digging in the dirt, but Lorilla managed to placate her somewhat by promising to grow some flowers as well as herbs and vegetables.
 

She was replanting some pretty flowers she had found in the woods when Gabriel and his men rode in. She watched her husband, seated on a beautiful black gelding, as he directed the men, who led five colts. Smiling at the little horses, she wiped the back of her hand across her brow, then glanced at the glove she wore. It was caked with mud, and now so was her forehead.
 

She looked down at herself, dressed in her oldest work clothes. If she planned to entice Gabriel to continue trying to have a child, it wouldn't do for him to see her covered with mud. She brushed the worst of the mud and dirt off her skirt, and prepared to slip into the house to wash and change before Gabriel finished with his men, but she was too late.
 

Here he came, striding toward her. Her breath caught at the mere sight of him. He wore leather chaps, which hugged his thighs and flared out below his knees. His shirt was partially undone, and the sleeves were rolled up. A sweaty bandanna was knotted around his neck. He had on leather gloves, but he'd taken off his hat, leaving a thin red mark on his forehead. His blue eyes shone like stars in his sun-browned face. Lorilla bit her lip nervously and tried to calm the flutter of her heart and the ache of need that welled within her.
 

She smiled tentatively, but when he stopped in front of her, his face was shuttered, only the sharp glint in his eyes hinting at any feeling at all. "Senora, how do you fare?"
 

"Gabriel! I'm fine. You found five colts?"

He nodded without taking his eyes off her. "Si. Yes. We did well. We will go again in a few days."

"Oh." Lorilla couldn't mask her disappointment.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

She brushed furtively at her bottom. "I must look a sight. I'm planting a garden. We'll have fresh vegetables."

"You look like a child playing in the mud. Why don't you let one of the servants do this?"

"No. I want to do it myself."

"Whatever for?"

"Why did you go with your men to search for colts?"

He shrugged. "I like to see the colt, choose the ones I think are healthiest."

"I know! Look." Lorilla bent down and picked up a handful of dirt. She held it out to him, brown, rich, with an earthworm wriggling in the middle of it. "See? The soil is alive, just like the colts."
 

"The soil is dirty, just like my wife."

Lorilla thought she detected amusement in Gabriel's voice, although his face betrayed no emotion. She smiled.

"Well, it's fun. You should try it."

His gaze raked her from head to foot and back. "I think not."

Lorilla moistened her lips with her tongue and brushed her hands together. "I'm sorry," she said. He didn't understand. "I'll go change clothes."
 

As she turned, Gabriel's gloved hand on her arm stopped her. "Would you like to see the colts?"

"Could I?" She smiled at him. "Oh, please."

They walked together to the corral, where the men had placed the colts. The young horses were nervous, moving restlessly around each other.
 

"Oh, Gabriel. They're so young. What about their mothers? Do you just steal them away?"

"Wait and see. The mares have followed. Later, the men will be able to circle around behind them and capture them. The colts will have their mothers,
chiquita
."
 

Lorilla tore her gaze away from the colts to look at Gabriel. He was leaning against the fence, watching her, his gaze unreadable.
 

She remembered her grubby appearance, and blushed. "I'd better change." She turned to go, then turned back. "Gabriel?"
 

He raised a brow.

"Thank you for showing me the colts. I'm glad you're home. Very glad."

He studied her for a moment, and she thought she saw a softening in his eyes, but he didn't say anything.

"Oh, I almost forgot. A courier brought a letter for you."

He straightened and frowned down at her. "Where is it?"

"On the desk in the front hall. Josepha can show you. Were you expecting something?"

"No." He turned his back and headed toward the house.

Lorilla watched him hungrily. He walked easily, gracefully, with casual confidence. As she watched, he pulled off his gloves and slapped them against his thigh. The masculine gesture sent a thrill of aching desire through her.
 

Shaking her head, she pulled off her own gloves. They had been married more than four months, and she was more susceptible to her husband than ever. She had missed him with a deep, aching loss while he was gone. And now that he'd returned, all she could think about was renewing the closeness they had lost.
 

As she walked toward the house, she examined her feelings. She had nothing to compare them with. She had never been courted, never been kissed, before Gabriel. He was the only man she had ever known, and yet she knew no other man could make her feel the way he did.
 

Lorilla walked through the kitchen and asked Josepha to send up bath water. Then she went up to her room and wrapped a robe around her as she waited for Benito to fill the hip bath.
 

Stepping into the deliciously warm water, Lorilla scrubbed herself, then relaxed, letting her eyelids close and her thoughts wander. But her mind kept coming back to one subject, her husband.
 

Suddenly, unbidden, a thought pierced through her drowsiness. She sat bolt upright, splashing water. Her hand flew to her mouth. Could she be falling in love with him? A nervous laugh escaped her lips. The very thought of him made her tingle. When he was gone, she felt like a part of herself had been ripped away. The agony of her miscarriage hurt twice as much because of the hurt it caused him.