The Christmas Treasure (13 page)

"Oh, dear," she gasped, and pressed her lips together, fighting the tremulous smile that wouldn't go away. She was in love.
 

Apprehension rippled through her. Oh she was lost now. She knew Gabriel didn't feel the same way. In fact, she wasn't even sure what her future held. He'd been so angry at her when he found out she'd hidden her miscarriage from him.
 

Or was it really anger? Had the anger been his way of dealing with the pain? She had turned inward, suffering quietly, and coming to grips with the loss on her own. Gabriel had lashed out, then escaped.
 

But what was he running from? The grief of losing another child? The fear that she would die like Elena? Or merely the irritating presence of his wife who had failed him? Lorilla shivered at this last possibility.
 

The door opened behind her. "I'm ready, Josepha," she said without looking around. She stood, waiting for Josepha to hand her the bath towel. Instead, she found herself wrapped in it and in Gabriel's strong arms.
 

"Wrong again, Lorilla. I am not Josepha."

She turned, aware that the towel did not cover her completely.

Gabriel let go of her and took a step back, but his eyes feasted on her wet naked body. After a long moment, he swallowed and dragged his gaze away from her. "You should dress. Josepha or Benito might come in at any moment."
 

Lorilla stepped out of the tub. "They won't if they saw you come up," she remarked, looking up at him through her lashes.
 

Gabriel clamped his jaw and turned away. "Get dressed," he flung back over his shoulder.

Seeing his tense jaw, his stiff back, Lorilla made a decision. She would believe that he was hurt and heartbroken at the loss of his child. She decided to believe that he cared for her. It was the only way she could cope, the only way she could help him.
 

If she thought he was merely angered by her failure to conceive, then she might as well leave. She loved him. She couldn't live here if he didn't care for her.
 

She took a long breath, then let the towel slide to the floor. Naked, she walked over to him and put her hand on his chiseled forearm. "Gabriel?" she murmured.
 

He looked at her, his eyes like storm clouds, and drew a ragged breath. "Lorilla, don't." He started to turn away again, but she caught his face between her hands.
 

"Please don't turn away from me. You've been gone so long." She bit her lip nervously. "I need you."

His face paled, and his eyes grew darker, if that were possible.

Lorilla stood on tiptoe and touched her lips to his. "Please?" she whispered against his mouth.

Without volition, his mouth moved over hers and Lorilla abandoned herself to his kiss. It was always the same. His kiss drained her of everything but desire. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
 

After a while, he tore his mouth from hers. "Lorilla, I can't do this."

"Why not?" she purred, even as fear crept up her spine. If he didn't desire her, then they were both lost. "It's perfectly natural. You are my husband. Therefore I have certain expectations." She made her voice light, teasing.
 

Gabriel wrapped his hands around her upper arms and pushed away from her. He stared at her and shook his head. "No. I can't. I couldn't stand it if you…"
 

His words sent hope soaring through her, overriding her fear. She put her hands against his chest, and met his gaze, her eyes heavy-lidded with yearning.
 

"I want you, Gabriel," she said, amazed at her boldness. "I need you." Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

"Please." What would she do if he turned her down? She had never done anything so bold in her life. Her knees gave out, not from desire, but from fear, and she let Gabriel's hands take her weight.
 

He pulled her into his embrace, and she reached for his mouth with hers. Arching her body, she pressed her breasts against his chest, and her belly against his rapidly growing arousal. He groaned and Lorilla felt a glimmer of triumph.
 

She found her footing and moved toward the bed. Gabriel hesitated, but then with a low growl, he picked her up and lay her on the bed, then lay beside her.
 

Lorilla tugged at his shirt, and pulled on his belt to loosen it, all the while holding him to her with kisses. He took over and undressed himself then turned back to her.
 

Lorilla sighed at the welcome feel of his body. She arched her back and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Gabriel, now."
 

He lifted his head. Lorilla saw the naked fear in his eyes. Again she cupped his face in her hands. "Gabriel, I swear to you, by the Holy Mother of God, I will not die."
 

His breath caught on a sound that might have been a sob, and his eyes glistened. Lorilla kissed him. "I swear. I don't know how I know, Gabriel, but I do know. It is my solemn promise to you. I will not die. I will have your baby. And I will make you happy that you took a chance on me."
 

Gabriel buried his head in the hollow of her shoulder, and for a few moments, they lay entwined. Lorilla felt the dampness of his tears against her neck. She stroked his hair and murmured to him, saying silly, nonsense things.
 

Then he moved and his body hardened with desire. He raised his head, blindly seeking her mouth. She accepted his kisses and caresses, moving with him as if they were two parts of the same whole. They reached the pinnacle together.
 

Lorilla knew something magical had happened to them. She and Gabriel had shared their souls. They had bared themselves, inside and out, to each other in that wondrous act of love. Nothing would be the same again.
 

His seed had flourished in her. She was with child, again.
 

Lying there, with his comforting weight upon her, breathing in concert with him, Lorilla had no idea how she knew, but she did. She longed to tell him, to share her joy, but she didn't dare. She couldn't bear to hurt him again. She would keep her secret until she was confident the baby would thrive. Tears welled in her eyes. Tears of joy, of love, of completion.
 

She didn't allow the niggling thought that failing again might destroy her chances of ever binding Gabriel to her.

h

CHAPTER TWELVE

"What do you mean by a while?" Lorilla demanded one morning a couple of weeks later. She'd been basking in the afterglow of early morning loving when he'd suddenly rolled off the bed and began to dress. Then he'd made his devastating announcement.
 

Gabriel pulled on his shirt and shrugged, not meeting her eyes.

"Gabriel? The letter. What did it say?"

"I told you," he said gruffly. "It's from the territorial governor. I had a suspicion he was going to ask me to travel to Washington, D.C., with him."
 

Lorilla sat up. "Well if you had a suspicion, why didn't you tell me?"

He glanced at her, then back at his belt, which he buckled around his lean waist. "I didn't know for sure until the letter came yesterday. Nothing had been decided. Then, before I had a chance to tell you last night, you…distracted me." He gestured, almost angrily.
 

"Don't blame me. It's your fault you didn't tell me. So when will you leave and how long will you be gone?" she asked stiffly. She rested her hand on her abdomen, already protective of the tiny life inside her.
 

"He wishes to leave by June first. It's a long way to Washington."

Apprehension shot through her with the force of a bullet. "I know it's a long way to Washington. How long?"

Gabriel quit fussing with his belt and looked at her. "Probably six months at least."

"Oh my God," she breathed. "That's so long."
 

Gabriel walked around the bed and sat down. He pulled her into his arms, and put his lips against her temple.

"You'll be fine. You have everything you need here. You have that garden you were grubbing around in, and you'll have to manage all the accounts, not just the household. You'll be so busy you won't miss me."
 

She shook her head. "No. I'll miss you. I already miss you. I have everything I need here." She lay her palm on his chest. "Oh, Gabriel, Take me with you."
 

He covered her hand with his, then kissed her gently. "That's impossible. We'll be riding rough. It will be only men."

He moved to rise but she threw her arms around him. "I can't stand six months without you."

He smiled and smoothed her hair. "Yes, you can. You're a strong woman, Senora Beltran. Strong and determined."

Three weeks later, it was time for Gabriel to leave. On that last morning, it was pure torture to drag himself from their bed. Lorilla had been insatiable the night before, as had he. Just the thought of their almost sleepless night was enough to cause his body to throb again. But as much as he wanted to take his wife in his arms and make sweet, slow, morning love with her, he was already late. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, smoothing back the fiery tangles of her hair and smiled when she murmured his name softly in her sleep.
 

Rising, he quickly washed at the basin, then donned traveling clothes. He needed to leave within the hour to meet the governor. He sighed, looking back at the appealing mound of bedclothes. One small, pale foot had worked its way free of the sheets, and Gabriel had the absurd desire to kiss each of Lorilla's small, pink toes.
 

But there was something more pressing he needed to do before he left. With a last, longing glance at the bed, he left the room. Downstairs, he quickly ate a couple of pastries and drank coffee as Josepha railed at him.
 

"You are muy stubborn, Gabriel. Why does not the governor find a different guide? You have obligations here."

Gabriel emptied his cup and held it out for more coffee. "You know the answer to that, old woman. If I were just a guide, it would be different. But I have worked with him ever since the war to bring Mexicans and Anglos together. Now he has been invited to Washington." He leveled a quelling gaze at her. "I have no need to explain myself to
 

you."

"You watch your mouth, youngster," Josepha grumbled, but Gabriel saw a twinkle in her eye. "You are not too old for me to pinch your ear."
 

"Ha," he retorted, as he finished his coffee. "You cannot even reach my ear." He stood. "Josepha, take care of Lorilla."

The twinkle left his nanny's eye and she nodded. "You can be assured, Senor. I care for her as if she were my own."
 

Gabriel heard the note of pride and concern in Josepha's voice. He put his arm around the little woman's shoulder.

"You have come to care for my wife, eh, old woman?"

"No more than you, Patron."

Surprised by her words, Gabriel gave her a quick hug and a kiss on her weathered cheek. "I have told Rilla that she will be in charge of the rancho while I am gone, but you and I know who will really run the place, right?"
 

Josepha chuckled.

"You will be in charge of the hacienda--you and Lorilla, and your poor, hen-pecked husband will keep the hired hands in line."
 

"Wait, Gabriel. Are you not going to say goodbye to your wife?"

Gabriel grinned at the little woman as he reached for his hat. "I can assure you, Rilla and I have said our good-byes."
 

Josepha flapped her apron at him as he left the house. "Go away with you then. You are like a rutting pig. Just like a man."
 

Laughing, Gabriel started toward the stables, then paused. He looked toward the copse of trees to the north of the hacienda. Guilt wrenched his heart as he turned and walked up the path into the trees.
 

He paid his respects to his parents and his child, touching the small gravestone as he always did, then crouched near the headstone of Elena's grave. He saw the pretty vase of flowers, which had been left there.
 

"These are Rilla's flowers, aren't they, Elena?" he asked softly. "I am sorry I have been neglectful of you lately." He stopped, guilt warring with a peculiar sense of peace inside him. He took a long breath. "There is something I must tell you,
mi paloma
. You and I were friends since childhood, and there were never secrets between us. I suppose I have avoided coming here lately." He hung his head, clutching his hat in his hands. "Elena, while you have remained young and beautiful, never changing, I have grown older. I have changed. You know what I've done. I've told you about my wife. About Lorilla."
 

He stood and paced. He had never had trouble talking to Elena. Visiting her grave, telling her things he would never tell a living soul, had always given him comfort.
 

But now, he was struggling to find the words. "I think my problem is not so much with talking to you, as it is with knowing in here," he tapped his chest, "what I really feel. Lorilla is beautiful, Elena. Not small, with eyes that flash midnight dark, like you. It is a different beauty. Her hair is the color of the sunset, and her eyes are like emeralds."
 

Gabriel laughed self-consciously.

"She was badly hurt by her stepfather's deception. But she has a spirit, a love of life that shines inside her and touches everyone around her. She came here all alone, thinking she was meeting a man who cared for her, and I did not."
 

Gabriel paused in his pacing and bent down again, to put his hand on the cold marble of the headstone.

"I did not then, Elena, but now I do." He bowed his head as emotion threatened to steal his voice. "I am deeply afraid I'm in love with my wife,
mi paloma
. The woman I only wanted for purposes of breeding." He sighed. "You know I am not a kind man nor an affectionate one. My father saw to that. But Elena, I have not even left yet, and I miss her already. She has taken hold of my heart. I did not die when you died, although I thought my heart had turned to stone. But Lorilla has shown me the way back to love. I love her more than my life."