The Christmas Treasure (14 page)

The words, spoken aloud, shocked him, and for a long moment he couldn't speak, as tenderness beyond anything he'd ever experienced took hold of him. Everything had changed. Elena had been his childhood friend, his wife and his lover. But his love for her was a pale shadow of the burning love that consumed him now. He crouched there for a long time, his hand on the cold stone, as the truth wracked him.
 

Finally, when he could speak, he leaned over and kissed the cold stone of his first wife's grave. "Never fear, Elena," he said, "you and our son will always be in my heart. Nothing will ever change that,
mi paloma
,
mi amiga
."
 

Lorilla heard Gabriel's last words as she came to the edge of the clearing. She gasped, and he stiffened. He rose and turned in one fluid motion, and flushed darkly.
 

"What are you doing here?"

Lorilla saw the unshed tears, saw the love in his shadowed eyes, and her heart broke like a
piñata
, into jagged pieces which tore at her soul. Straightening, she lifted her chin and fought to keep the pain in her heart from echoing in her voice.
 

"I apologize. I didn't mean to interrupt you." Then, afraid if she looked at him for one more second she would burst into tears, she turned and fled back down the path to the house.
 

Gabriel caught up with her just at the front door. He stopped her with a hand on her arm and turned her to face him.

"What were you doing up there?"

Blinking furiously, Lorilla managed to raise her gaze to his face. She couldn't bear to meet his eyes, so she stared at his jaw, which ticked with tension. "I was looking for you, to say good-bye."
 

He caught her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. His eyes blazed fiercely. "We agreed that we'd said our good-byes last night…all night."
 

She blushed at his meaning. Yes, the night had been wonderful, magical, as had every night since he'd returned. And every night, Lorilla had promised herself that the next day, she would tell him about their baby. But when enchanted night turned into practical, sunlit day, she faltered. It was too soon, she told herself. Gabriel had been hurt too many times, and she was not willing to have him hurt again, if she miscarried. So she had waited.
 

Now he was leaving. She had waited almost too long.

"Well?" His grip on her jaw was relentless, though not painful. She pulled away from him and felt him relent. He let her go.
 

"I just…" What could she say now?
I just wanted to tell you I'm carrying your child. But since you're still in love with your dead wife, never mind
. No, she couldn't say that.
 

"Just what,
chiquita
? Did you want to say goodbye one more time?"
 

His sardonic grin caused her face to flame and her pulse to quicken.

"No!" she said, too vehemently. But the exclamation helped to wipe away the memory of his touch and of her response.
 

"Rilla, how much did you hear?"

She pressed her lips together and lifted her gaze to his. Struggling to remain composed, Lorilla answered him.

"Enough." Enough to know that you don't love me.

"Rilla…"

"Gabriel," she broke in, unwilling to stand there while he lied to her, or worse--told her the truth. She knew she wouldn't be able to stand either one. "You are late, and I need to dress," she finished coldly, gesturing toward her robe, which she had thrown on over her nightgown. Her mouth threatened to tremble. With an effort, she managed to stop her tongue from flicking out nervously over her lips.
 

Gabriel stared at her for a long moment, as if he were trying to make up his mind about something. "Well then, thank you for your generous farewell gifts last night,
chiquita
." He jammed his hat onto his head and turned on his heel. As he did, Benito stepped forward with his horse.
 

He mounted easily and sat atop the black gelding, smiling wickedly down at her. "I can only conclude that your foul mood this morning is the result of too little sleep. Perhaps you will sleep better while I'm gone."
 

He turned his horse, then abruptly turned it back, guiding it to her side. "Come here," he demanded.

Lorilla stood there at the horse's flank, her eyes on a level with her husband's muscled thigh. She swallowed nervously and looked up at him.
 

Before she realized what he was going to do, he leaned down and slipped one hand beneath her hair, entwining his fingers in it. "Your hair still holds the fire of the sunset," he muttered and pulled her closer. He captured her lips with his, searing her mouth with an intimate, possessive kiss. When he finally let her go she was breathless, as was he.
 

"Goodbye,
chiquita
. Hold onto that kiss. I will expect it back when I return."
 

Lorilla glared at him. "Have a safe journey, Gabriel, but you would be well advised not to expect anything when you return."
 

Gabriel straightened. "What do you mean by that?" he demanded.

"Make of it what you will, but know this, Gabriel Beltran. I was deceived as much by my stepfather as you were. I came all this way because I was told you cared for me. I will not be kept as a brood mare while you worship at the altar of your dead wife's tomb."
 

"While I am away I will decide what to do with you, my virgin wife. It could be that you are more trouble than you're worth." His gaze burned like fire. Then he touched his hat with a mocking smile.
 

"
Adios
, chiquita." He turned his horse and urged him into a canter. Soon he and Benito disappeared into the hills, leaving only an echo of the horse's hooves.
 

"Ooh!" Lorilla cried, and clenched her fists. "Arrogant bastard. You could have said something…one thing." She blinked back tears. "One small indication that you cared for me. But, no. You run off to talk to your dead wife and you don't even apologize."
 

She slammed into the house and stomped up the stairs. She barely made it to her sitting room before her stomach rebelled and she bent over the washbasin, heaving dryly.
 

Josepha entered without knocking, just as Lorilla sat on the day bed, exhausted and perspiring from the nausea.

The little woman clucked as she stepped across to the bedroom and returned with the plate of tortillas. "You neglected to eat this morning. What is the matter?"
 

"Oh, Josepha, Gabriel's gone."

"Si. You have known for weeks that he was leaving this morning. You look exhausted. You and Gabriel, you had a sleepless night, no?"
 

Lorilla shot a disgusted look at Josepha. "Not that it's any of your business."

"So what has upset you?"

Lying back on the pillows, Lorilla closed her eyes, then peered at Josepha through narrowed slits. "Gabriel visited Elena's grave this morning."
 

"Ah."

"Ah, what?"

"That is what has you upset? That he visited his family's graves? He has always done that. You should not concern yourself with Gabriel's habits. They have nothing to do with you."
 

"Oh, yes, they do. It has everything to do with me. I found him there, telling his dead wife that he would always love her."
 

Josepha raised one eyebrow. "That is what bothers you?"

"Yes. Would you not be a bit concerned if Benito pledged his undying love to the woman he had loved before he ever met you?"
 

"Ah."

"Stop that, Josepha."

"Pardon, Senora?"

"Stop saying 'ah' like that. Like you know everything."

"Hmm, well I do know something."

Lorilla rubbed her temples. "Oh yes? And what is that?"

"I know my sad boy cares for you."

Lorilla sat up, accepting one of the tortillas from Josepha. She nibbled it carefully, half-expecting a return of the nausea, but her stomach settled down. She looked at the other woman.
 

"I suppose he does, in his way. But I…" she couldn't go on. How could she admit that she had fallen in love with her husband? She was terrified that once Gabriel had his son, he would have no further need of her.
 

Panic gripped her and she covered her stomach with her hands, protectively.

"You never tell him about the baby, did you?"

She shook her head miserably. "When I heard him talking to Elena, telling her he would always love her, I couldn't. How could I? What if I lose this baby? If I had told him, it would be the worst kind of torture for him, being gone, not knowing."
 

Josepha clucked as she moved about the room, straightening it.

"Josepha? You disapprove, don't you?"

"It is not for me to say, Senora." The woman stood and pinned Lorilla with her dark eyes. "But you must be prepared. When the Patron returns and finds out you kept this from him, he will be
muy
angry."
 

"I could deal with
muy
angry if I thought he loved me."
 

Josepha let loose a string of Spanish that went far too fast for Lorilla to catch. Then she switched back to English. "I will bring you some broth. You are obviously very tired from your long night. You should rest today."
 

Meekly, Lorilla nodded. By the time Josepha left the room, she was asleep.
 

L
ORILLA WENT TO BED
each night missing Gabriel. But she talked to her growing baby about his father. She told the baby everything she would have told Gabriel had he been there.
 

Almost before she realized it, the leaves had changed and the weather had become cool. It was October. Six months had gone by.
 

Every day, she was sure Gabriel would be home that day. She waited and watched and kept up with the calendar, marking off the days. October turned into November and still he did not come home.
 

One day a rider rode up to the house. When Lorilla heard the commotion, she ran outside as fast as she could, sure it was Gabriel, but it was only a courier with a letter.
 

She tore open the envelope with shaking hands.

Senora Beltran
, it read.
 

We have arrived safely in Washington.

Lorilla breathed as she read the words with relief. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath.

We will be here for several weeks, meeting with the President and various statesmen. I miss the quiet of the rancho. I hope to be home for Christmas. Until I see you again, pray for our safe return.
 

Gabriel

He had dated the letter August twentieth.

Josepha, who had been hovering around, spoke. "Well? Is it from Gabriel? What does it say?"

"It's dated in late August. He's just gotten to Washington. It took them three months just to get there. Oh, Josepha, what if he doesn't make it back in time?"
 

"You should send him a letter, tell him of his child, then he will return."
 

"If I wrote and the letter took as long as this one, he'd already be home by the time it arrived in Washington." She read the letter again, savoring each word.
 

"Oh!" She sat up straight, caressing her rounded belly with her hand.

"Lorilla, are you all right?"

Smiling, she looked up at Josepha and nodded. "I'm fine. But the little one is restless. He must be anxious to meet his father." She looked down at her swollen belly. "Don't worry. He is probably on his way home now. You will get to meet your father very soon."
 

A
GAIN THE DAYS
blurred, as Lorilla became more and more wrapped up in the presence of the child growing inside her. She had a scare around Thanksgiving, when she began bleeding. But by the time the doctor arrived, the bleeding had stopped and the doctor assured her that the baby sounded healthy. "Still, Senora Beltran, you should remain in bed until the baby is born."
 

"I can't do that," she protested. "My husband is on his way home. There are preparations. I'm going to have a Christmas celebration and a homecoming."
 

"You listen to me young woman," the doctor admonished. "What you're going to have is a difficult time if you don't stay off your feet until that baby is born. Now what is more important? A welcome home party for your husband, or having a healthy baby?"
 

Lorilla agreed.

The days in bed were long and boring. Lorilla spent a lot of time studying Spanish with Marie Joseph. Sarah Gentry brought her a few books, which kept her occupied for many hours. But the inactivity allowed her imagination to run wild, and she invented all sorts of horrible fates that may have befallen Gabriel. Many mornings she would awaken with tears on her cheeks, having dreamed of bandits or Indians or mountain lions which might have attacked him.
 

h

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Christmas Eve, 1848
 

Then, it was Christmas Eve morning. Lorilla rose early, and made her way downstairs to the kitchen, where Josepha was overseeing the baking.
 

"Senora, what are you doing out of bed?"

Lorilla picked up a warm pastry and tasted it. "Mmm, these are good. Is that cinnamon and nutmeg I taste?"

"Lorilla…" Josepha said warningly.

"Oh, Josepha, if I stay in bed another minute I will scream. Besides, is today not Christmas Eve? Shouldn't we make plans to go into Santa Fe for mass?"
 

Josepha planted her fists on her hips. "No, no and no," she said. "You go nowhere, except back to your bed. The doctor, he has say so."