Until the Day Breaks (California Rising Book 1) (32 page)

Roman was shocked. He couldn’t speak. Rachel came over and put her hand on his arm. “Is everything all right?”

“Sarita has died,” Tia Josefa said, wiping the tears that came to her eyes.

Rachel put her hand over her mouth. Tia Josefa embraced her.

Dominic had begun to remove Steven’s body from the horse. Roman walked over and helped Dominic without saying a word. Together, they carried Steven into the hacienda.

The two of them took Steven to a downstairs bedroom and placed his wrapped body on the bed. The painting in the room was a depiction of heaven with angels surrounding a flaming throne.

The following morning, Steven was buried in the cemetery on the hill overlooking the creek near the other fresh grave there. Rachel sang several hymns. Dominic joined in, the only one who knew the words to the Protestant songs. After it was over, Roman stayed behind at the graves. He asked everyone to leave him alone for a while.

It was a beautiful summer day, the sky very blue, the creek sparkling with sun diamonds in the distance at the bottom of the hill. Roman walked over to Sarita’s grave and stood there for a while filled with regret. When they were young, he thought he might have loved her. She was beautiful and vivacious with her flashing black eyes and aside from Maria, she’d been his main dance partner at the fandangos. Had she carried his child? He would never know. “I’m sorry, Sarita,” he said, before returning to Steven’s grave. He stood there a while longer at Steven’s mound with tears streaking his cheeks.

Upon returning to the hacienda, he joined the feast arranged in honor of the dead that afternoon. All of Rancho de los Robles’s Indian servants attended the gathering along with the
familia
as was the tradition of a Californian wake. Tio Pedro ordered the musicians to play all afternoon, and by nightfall, the patio was filled with the mournful songs of the servants. None of the Indians knew Steven, nor did they grieve Sarita’s parting, but the vaqueros taken into the army left every family grieving.

Finally, at nightfall, the Indians gathered their children to return to the small adobe outbuildings they called home.

Roman escorted Rachel to her room.

“Dominic tells me Yerba Buena is growing by the day. That the harbor is full of ships, and the Californios and Americanos are mixing amiably there. After talking with Dom, I believe this would be the best place for us to marry. San Juan Bautista is Castro’s town. Monterey is a cradle for rebellion. Dom says we can spend as much time as we like on his ship in the harbor.” He squeezed her hands. “God will go before us, Rachel. This war will pass. I have given this much thought, and I think it best for us to quietly marry in Yerba Buena. I have an aunt and uncle there at the mission of San Francisco Dolores three miles from Yerba Buena. My relatives are humble, god-fearing people. They will help us.”

“When will we leave for Yerba Buena?”

“As soon as you are ready.” Roman smiled down at her, but sadness still filled his eyes.

She returned his tender smile. “Tomorrow?”

“Will you marry me so soon,
pequeña
?”

“Yes,” she answered, pressing against him. “I know Steven would want that.”

Instead of kissing her, he leaned his forehead against hers for a long moment before pushing her gently away from him. “Go,” he said. “Pick out your favorite dress. Pack enough to see you through several weeks in Yerba Buena.”

“So we will leave in the morning?”

“
Si.
I hope to find a padre willing to marry us there.”

“You have never said that you love me.” Her words were soft, uncertain. “Are you marrying me because Steven is gone? Did you make a promise to him to care for me before he died?”

He pulled her back into his arms. “I am marrying you because I love you. I have loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you at your father’s hacienda wading in the fountain.”

“You should not remind me of that.” But a smile lit her face, her eyes sparkling.

“It is my favorite memory of you.” His smile slipped away, and he grew serious. “You have not professed your love for me,
pequeña
.”

She raised her hand to touch his cheek. “I love you, Roman.” Slipping both hands around his neck, she tugged his head down to press her lips to his.

That night, Maria could not sleep. Thoughts of Captain Mason kept her awake. Lighting a candle, she wrapped a
rebozo
around her nightgown and, slipping past her softly snoring dueña, left her room. She padded down the hall and used the servants’ stairs to escape out into the night.

A full moon lit the vineyard. Maria decided to go for a walk there. It was close enough to the house to keep the wild animals at bay but far enough from the hacienda to spend time alone on a soft, summer night.

In the vineyard, she strolled between the vines, where emerald clusters of grapes now dangled from the branches. After walking a short while, she sensed she wasn’t alone. Turning around, she saw a tall figure one row over beyond the vines.

“Who is following me?” she called out, her heart pounding faster.

“You are out here alone? It is well past midnight. A girl like you should be safe in her bed.”

“I am not a girl.”

He lowered himself under the row of vines to step over into her path. Captain Mason smiled, his teeth flashing white in the moonlight. “You are not so old,” he countered. “And not so big that a wolf or a bear could not drag you off in the blink of an eye.”

She did not return his smile. “Rarely do bears or wolves come into the vineyard. The scent of man is here. The wild beasts do not like man’s scent.”

“It appears you do not like man’s scent either.”

“The scent of one particular man displeases me.”

“Roman holds no ill will toward me. We are like brothers now. Why do you persist in hating me?”

“I do not hate you.” She wrapped her
rebozo
more snugly around her nightdress. “I would have to care to hate you.”

He gave her a wry smile. “You are like Cape Horn. Sailing around you is dangerous, my lady.”

“You think because you are a tall, blue-eyed Yankee with your own ship the señoritas will fawn all over you. Well, think again, Captain Mason.”

“I will take that as a compliment. Please call me Dominic.” He lifted a cluster of grapes, inspecting the ripening fruit in the moonlight. “When will these rubies be ripe?”

“Long after you are gone from here.”

“Your tongue is as sharp as your claws.” He dropped the grapes back to the vine and began walking toward the hacienda.

“You insulted me that night you fought with my brother.” Maria hurried after him.

He halted. “Why are you pursuing me if I insulted you?”

“I am not pursuing you,” she said in outrage.

“Yes, you are.” He grinned, distracting her for a moment. “Here you are at my heels.”

“I am not at your heels!”

“Do you want to wake the hacienda so we are found out here alone together in the middle of the night? Speak softly, my dear.”

She laughed, her mirth twinkling like a bell. “Dominic. . . your ship? Are the sails very large on her?”

“Like snow-covered mountains.” The grin returned to his face.

“Have you sailed all over the world?” She hurried to match his stride as he walked once more amongst the vines.

“Yes. The world beyond California’s shore is as wide as the heavens.”

“Really?” Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Not really,” he answered. “The heavens stretch far beyond what we see with our earthly eyes. This earth man can explore. The heavens belong to God.”

“You are a Protestant. I can tell.”

“And you are Catholic. Let’s not talk about religion. God is a much finer subject.”

Maria tossed her head, sending a wave of red hair cascading over her shoulder. “Aren’t they the same thing? God and religion?”

Dominic stopped walking. “I hope not. Religion is full of man’s plans. God’s plans are much better.” He looked up at the stars. “I could not sleep. I have never known a man like Steven. He was so full of God. People would say Steven was religious, being a minister and all, but he was not religious. Steven loved God. He died for your brother. Did you know that?”

“No. I didn’t know. But something has changed Roman. He’s so different now.” Truthfully, it unnerved her. Just as Steven had unnerved her with his Protestant prayers.

“Your brother accepted Christ as his Savior after Steven died.” Dominic searched her eyes, discomforting her a great deal.

Her face beginning to burn, she looked away, remaining silent for a long moment while staring at the shadowy vineyard. When she finally turned back to him, she said, “Tell me of your travels. I want to hear all about the great cities you have seen.”

“The cities I have seen?”

“Yes. I am made for more than this wilderness. I want to travel the world. See all the great cities of the earth. Meet all kinds of people. Dance in all kinds of places.” She swept her arm out in front of her, pointing across the land, and her
robozo
fell from her shoulders. She didn’t bother to pick up the shawl, just stood there in her sheer white nightdress before him like a queen. Perhaps he would find her so lovely he would take her on his ship with him and sail her to all the fair cities.

“California is the future.” Dominic turned away from her, looking out across the vineyard. “By far the richest shore I have ever visited. I would not call this place a wilderness. This land is a paradise.”

She laughed, mostly because she knew he found her attractive. “California is but one place. I want to visit many places.”

He scooped up her shawl and presented it to her. She took her time returning the wrap to her shoulders. He kept his eyes carefully on her face. “Months on the ocean are needed to visit other shores. I doubt a girl like you would enjoy living at sea for so long.”

“A girl like me?” She quirked one of her brows at him. “What is a girl like me?”

“A girl like you longs for the city.” He walked some more with her at his side. “She wears fashionable clothes and meets fashionable people. Sailors are not fashionable. They are wet, salty dogs, and so is their captain.”

Maria laughed, her amusement rippling through the night like quicksilver. “You are not a salty dog.” She captured his hand, pulling him deeper into the vineyard. “You are the most interesting man I have ever met.” She spoke in a low, throaty voice. “Take me with you when you leave California. I will cause you no trouble. I am a capable woman. I have ridden with the vaqueros capturing bears, branding cattle, helping bring in the hides. I am good with a knife and a riata
.
I could help on your ship. You must use ropes out at sea. I am good with ropes.”

Dominic pulled his hand free from hers. “I’m sorry. I cannot take you with me.”

She moved closer until she stood toe to toe with him. She tilted her head back to look up into his face, her hair rippling down her back. “Why not?”

“You have no idea what it is like to live at sea. A grand hacienda is the place for you my lady. The wild ocean belongs to men who may live or die in every storm.”

“Men such as yourself?” She raised up on tiptoes to get even closer to him. “Why should I stay here? You won’t be here.” She draped her arms around his neck.

He took her by the waist, held her for a moment, and then gently but firmly set her away from him. “Because you are safe here with your family.”

“I don’t want to be safe.” She moved right back against him, dropping the shawl as she reached up and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, molding her body to his in a marvelous way. Though she had never kissed a man before, Maria boldly pulled his face down to hers. When she pressed her lips to his, he kissed her back, holding her tightly against his body, groaning in pleasure when she opened her mouth under his.

Maria had seen the servants kiss. She’d been planning her first kiss most of her life. This was nothing like she’d planned. It was far more thrilling than anything she’d ever dared imagine a kiss could be. She was drowning in delight.

Dominic finally tore his mouth from hers. “I’m sorry,” he said, breathing deeply. “I should not be out here with you. I have a fiancée in Boston.”

“What? You just kissed me and you are to be married?” Maria’s voice rose.

“I did not kiss you. You kissed me.”

She slapped him as hard as she could across the cheek.

“I did not deserve that.” He looked shocked by her wrath.

“Yes, you did. You can save your spittle for your meek-mouthed
Yanquia
.”

“You leave Sally out of this. She is a proper lady who minds her manners, unlike you, Little Miss Hothead.” Dominic fingered his cheek.

“You are probably marrying Sally just to please your mama. I’m sure this Sally grovels at your feet when you return from your travels, mighty ship captain.”

Dominic took a step toward her. Maria stood her ground, not the least bit intimidated that he outweighed her by nearly a hundred pounds of muscle and stood a head taller than she.

“Sally does not grovel at my feet. She sits prettily upon my lap, listening to my stories of the high seas. Stories I will never share with you,” Dominic said with a temper of his own.

“I do not care about your tales! And I don’t need your pathetic stories of the high seas. I will see for myself what life on a ship is like, and it will not be with the likes of you.”

“I pity the poor captain that takes you aboard his vessel.” He stepped away from her, rubbing his cheek.

She spun on her heel and headed for the hacienda in a flash of white nightgown. She didn’t bother to retrieve her shawl on the ground. Let him pick it up and carry it to the house.

Stupid man. A fiancée?
Tears sprang to Maria’s eyes. Not a day had gone by that she had not thought about him since he’d arrived at Rancho de los Robles, and all this time he’d had a fiancée!

“We will all travel together to Mission San Francisco Dolores. It will be like the old days,” Tio Pedro said. “We will bring our servants and have a great caravan of celebration.”