“You did.”
“Did you not enjoy our lovemaking?”
She turned away again. “Was it? Was it lovemaking, Gabriel? Do you . . . love me?”
“Is that what this is about?”
She nodded.
Christ! How could she not know?
Gabriel pulled her close with his free arm and kissed her like she was the last woman on earth and he was about to die. “How could you doubt me? Of course I love you. I have always loved only you. It nearly killed me when I had to leave and knew you would marry another. When I discovered you didn’t hate me and I had another chance, I nearly wept with gratitude.”
He dropped to his knees and assumed his spoiled hidalgo persona. “Gentle lady.” He looked up at her, holding her hand with his free one. “Will you do me the honor of remaining my bride?”
Her expression softened as she feigned a smirk and put a finger on the side of her mouth. “On one condition.”
“Anything, dear lady.”
“That you continue to pleasure me every night until our house is filled with children and overrun with grandchildren.”
“Ah, you strike a hard bargain. I accept.”
He rose and took her in his arms, kissing her slowly and thoroughly. She was a handful, this woman, and he would have yet another wedding to attend—one in the chapel of the mission.
But he’d revised his opinion of weddings.
This one he would love.
Chapter 30
San Juan Capistrano, October 1847
Gabriel de la Vega, the man who hated weddings, rather enjoyed his own.
He’d been married twice now, once in a dusty office full of fat books in the pueblo of Los Angeles and the second time in the narrow chapel at Mission San Juan Capistrano, the chapel built in 1778, two years after the mission was founded.
His knees had thankfully survived the ceremony, and the incense had not been too strong, given the open doorways to let in the fall breeze. The bride, following tradition for widows, was resplendent in her modest black gown, the same one she’d worn for their civil ceremony. She’d said it brought her luck.
When the service ended and Father Blas Ordaz made the sign of the cross over the union, the wedding party moved to the Avila home for a grand barbecue. No rodeo would take place and no horse racing. Bolero, Avila’s horse, was officially retired, and Gabriel insisted that he and Isabella needed to get back to their home before sundown. Another celebration awaited them there with their loyal workers, many looking forward to a night of drinking and dancing.
Gabriel scanned the partygoers. The only ones missing were Sorina and Lance, who were still in Monterey, and Captain Sutherland, who had declined their invitation. Gabriel still felt guilty over his white lie to induce Christopher to come to Isabella’s rescue. But he’d had no choice, and he didn’t regret it.
“I hope there will be no cockfights, Gabriel. I abhor cockfights. They are barbaric.” Isabella balanced her plate on her lap as she bit into a flaky tortilla filled with spicy meat.
“Unless the Americans outlaw them, I’m afraid they will continue. I promise there will be no animal events in honor of our marriage, querida. Juan has told the vaqueros to mind their manners.” He reached over and stole a slice of pork from her plate. “Is it the blood? Does that still trouble you?”
“I admit I still get a little queasy, but no.”
Señora Ysidora Forster, sitting next to her, leaned closer. “How did you learn what caused your fear of blood?”
“My oldest brother, Miguel, explained in a letter that when I was five years old my mother took me to visit my grandparents. They lived in a remote place near Pala. There was an Indian raid—there were many in those days—and my mother, grandparents, and several others were killed. When it was discovered that I was still alive, a servant cared for me until my father came to take me home. He said I claimed no memory of the event. Even now I see flashes but nothing really clear. To explain my mother’s absence, I was told my mother died in childbirth. The lie was believable. I never questioned her absence after that.”
Señora Forster nodded. “A sad tale, but one that is now in your past.”
“Yes, it is,” said Gabriel. He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. “And now I shall make a small confession.”
Isabella smirked. “What might that be?”
“I, too, am afraid of blood.”
“You are not.”
“I am. Especially when it’s my own.”
“Then I shall be sure not to shave you, because if my hand slips, we shall both faint dead away.”
They all laughed, and when Señora Forster excused herself to refill her plate, Sean Mitchell took her place.
“Congratulations again to you both,” he said.
“When do you leave?” Gabriel asked.
“Tomorrow. I’ve booked passage on a ship leaving for Yerba Buena. Thought I might visit a few old friends in Sonoma.”
Isabella smiled. “My brothers live in the north, Señor Mitchell. One is on a rancho near Yerba Buena and another resides near Branciforte. Both are horse-mad if you ever need to find work.”
“Good to know.” He rose, tipped his hat at Isabella. “Stay well, señora, and don’t go chasin’ after those gold flecks Gabriel salted your stream with.”
“Fool’s gold, Mitchell, but it did the trick,” Gabriel said.
“On second thought, maybe you should remove them so nobody goes up there thinkin’ they’re real.”
Good advice. Gabriel had already thought of it.
He shook Mitchell’s hand and walked with him toward the stable. “What of Lita? Will she go with you now that Slade is in jail?”
“Lita’s already gone. The minute Slade was arrested she hightailed it to San Pedro and booked passage on the first ship heading north. Not sure where she’ll end up. She told me she heard there’s a new theater being built in Yerba Buena. I reckon she’ll find a way onto that stage.”
Gabriel grinned. “If anyone can make money singing in dance halls, Lita can.”
Mitchell untied his horse and mounted.
“Can you answer one question for me?” Gabriel asked.
“Shoot.”
“Was Lita a spy as well? I often wondered.”
Mitchell snorted. “Let’s just say she had an unusual way to ferret out information from people—information I always found useful.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Take care, my friend.” Mitchell saluted and rode off.
Gabriel made his way back to Isabella, who had finished her dinner. “Are you ready to depart? There is still enough daylight to get us back home safely.”
She nodded. “Did you know Señor Mitchell can speak perfect English, with no Irish inflections whatsoever? I heard him speaking to Lance Grainger once and was quite shocked. Is he still in the army?”
“He says he isn’t, querida. But who knows? He’s let it be known he is going to settle somewhere in the north, find a piece of land for sale, and start his own racing stables.”
“Whatever he does, I have a feeling he’ll be successful.”
“As will you, Señora Vega. Your reputation as an astute businesswoman makes my life so much easier. All of our negotiations with ships captains will be done by you, my love. I shall stay on land and be the indolent ranchero, pretending to speak only Spanish, listening to everyone compliment your skills.”
“You are still determined to play a role.”
“I’ve discovered one learns a great deal with silence.”
“Is that so? Then I shall remember to be quiet in our bed.”
He kissed the end of her nose. “There are exceptions.”
“Then let us go home and explore
them.”
They twined their fingers and walked toward their host. Life had given him a second chance, and Gabriel planned to make full use of it. The woman at his side had once only been a dream, but when you believed with all your heart, dreams could come true.
Epilogue
Rancho de Los Arboles, April 1848
Isabella Fuentes de la Vega rode though the herd, searching for her husband.
She spotted him at the edge of the upper meadow, rounding up a stray. He swung the reata in the air and threw the loop deftly over the running steer. Gone was the spoiled hidalgo persona that hid his true character.
He no longer needed it.
Punishment was swift when carried out by the military commanders. Slade was never tried by the Mexican courts. He had been brought to trial for another transgression—the murder of a soldier—and had been hanged in the public square. Drake Logan had evaded justice by disappearing, and Smith, the banker, had not been charged due to lack of evidence. The rumor mill said he held too many debts of prominent people and knew their secrets. Cantrell, the man who Gabriel believed to be the mastermind, also had not been charged. It was not a crime to order mining equipment, even if it was a foolish purchase.
If Slade had not been fingered as the murderer of an off-duty soldier during the time he’d been awaiting trial by the Mexican judiciary, would he now be a danger to them? The new alcalde was Stephen Foster, an American appointed by the military after Salazar.
Gabriel tugged the steer back into the herd and joined his wife.
“What brings you out here on a cold morning, querida? I thought you might still be at the breakfast table since you are now eating for two.” He reached over and patted the slight swell of her belly.
“I have news! Pablo just returned from San Pedro, and everyone is talking about it.” She paused to catch her breath. “Gold has been discovered.”
Gabriel scoffed. “Not another false belief that gold is buried in one of the missions, is it? So many of these stories exist it is a wonder those buildings still stand for all the digging that goes on inside them.”
“No, this one is true. The place is called Sutter’s Mill in the northern part of the territory. Pablo said the port is crowded with ships on their way to Yerba Buena. The trading ships are full of passengers who are eager to seek their fortunes.”
Gabriel sat back in the saddle. “When did this discovery occur?”
“Sometime in January. A newspaper recently printed a story about it, and it has set off a frenzy of activity. Some say people will come from all over the world. Can that be true, Gabriel?”
“Greed is a powerful incentive, my love. Men have been known to make foolish decisions in hopes of becoming wealthy. Remember how I fooled Slade.”
She thought back to the day Gabriel had pretended to find gold near the waterfall on her ranch. The pyrite had sparkled and glistened like the real thing, but had no value.
They turned their horses away from the herd and ambled along the trail that led back to the hacienda. “Will you want to go to the goldfields?” She didn’t think he would leave her now that a baby was due, but Pablo told her about people she knew abandoning their homes to seek their fortunes.
“Would I leave you to make all the decisions about this ranch, now that I have you firmly in my clutches?” His wide grin reassured her, but still she persisted.
“With the losses we incurred last year because of the fire, I thought you might want to go for a bit. You have friends in Sonoma. Sorina says Sean Mitchell is there working for Mariano Vallejo. You could try your luck for a few months and return.”
“Is Mitchell training horses?”
“Yes, but he’s about to leave. She said he plans to search for his errant sister in San Francisco. She’s in trouble, and he’s beside himself because he cannot find her.”
“Sister? I didn’t know he had a sister in California.”
“Nor did I.” She cocked her head to the side. “Will you go?”
She tried to keep the hitch from her voice, but she did not want to be a clingy woman who made unreasonable demands on her husband. They had enjoyed a unique relationship since their marriage. He kept his word and gave much of the running of the ranch to her. He, on the other hand, spent a great deal of time with his father since Jose de la Vega’s heart troubles had reappeared.
“Querida, can you not see what an opportunity we have here? Pardon my use of the word, but it is truly a golden one.”
“What do you mean?”
“Pablo is right. Thousands will be coming to California to seek their fortunes, and they will all be in need of sustenance. Our cattle will no longer have to produce only hides. Their meat will be equally valuable, as will the extra grains we will grow.”
He was right. She hadn’t thought of that aspect. It would be easy to drive a herd to Yerba Buena, or San Francisco, as it was now called. California’s weather was mild and grasses plentiful in the spring. Losses would be minimal—if at all—and the markets would be clamoring for fresh meat and other goods.
“It seems I have married a brilliant man.” She waggled her eyebrows, as she’d seen him do many times when he was teasing her.
“And handsome, too, querida.”
She stopped her horse and dismounted, knowing he would do the same. “You’ve grown very conceited, my love. Perhaps I should deny you the comforts of my bed.”
“Is that so?”
They dropped their reins, allowing the horses to feed while she squealed and ran behind a tree. Gabriel caught her and proceeded to cover her face with kisses. Laughing, they dropped to the ground, the kisses turning into something more serious.
Would it always be thus? Isabella hoped so. She’d once been a woman abandoned by the man she’d loved most in the world. That old fear occasionally surfaced when she least expected it.
“I know what you’re thinking, querida.” His face was just above hers as she lay in the fragrant grass, green from spring rain. “I will never leave you.”
He sealed his words with a kiss that took her breath. The fox had returned for good. She would never be alone again.
About the Author
Author of eight books on California history and thirteen romance novels, Pamela Gibson is a former City Manager who lives in the Nevada desert. Having spent the last three years messing about in boats, a hobby that included a five-thousand-mile trip in a 32-foot Nordic Tug, she now spends most of her time indoors happily reading, writing, cooking and keeping up with the antics of Ralph, the Rescue Cat. If you want to learn more about her activities go to https://www.pamelagibsonwrites.com and sign up for her quarterly newsletter and occasional blog. Or follow her in these places:
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Also from Pamela Gibson and Soul Mate Publishing
SCANDAL’S CHILD
Miranda Comstock, widowed and impoverished, accepts a position in London caring for a child who was blinded in a fire. When she discovers the child’s mysterious guardian is the lover who’d seduced and abandoned her five years earlier, her first thought is to flee. But nine-year-old Phoebe depends on her and is blossoming under her care.
Jeremy Montague returns from Jamaica to take up his duties as the new Earl of Longley and is shocked to find his former lover is his ward’s nurse. Believing she played him for a fool, he vows to remove her from his household, especially when his t
raitorous body begins to remember the passion they shared.
But there is a mystery afoot involving a long-ago disappearance, Miranda’s resemblance to a society debutante, and the child’s suppressed memories of the fire, which are starting to emerge. As Phoebe’s memories become sharper, Jeremy begins to suspect that he and Miranda were pawns in a twisted game. And both must learn to trust again, if they are to find their way back into each other’s hearts.
Available now on Amazon: SCANDAL’S CHILD
SCANDAL’S BRIDE
Marry in haste…
Lady Gwendolyn Pettigrew longs to be a mother, but refuses to marry the lecherous old fool her father has found for her. When her best friend convinces her to consider her husband’s younger brother as a suitable candidate, Gwen agrees to a marriage of convenience, hoping against hope that her dream of becoming a mother will have a chance.
The Hon. John Montague, a penniless younger son, is handsome, witty, and thrilled that a woman with a dowry has agreed to wed him. Best of all she’s a fiercely independent bluestocking, a woman who won’t want to bother with a family. Because John has a shocking secret. He’s vowed never to bring a child into the world, a child who, like his own mother, might carry the strain of madness.
Available now on Amazon: SCANDAL’S BRIDE
SHADOW OF THE FOX
In 1846 War Looms in Alta California.
Sorina Braithwaite, rebellious granddaughter of a prominent California ranchero, has her own battle to fight. Desperate to escape an arranged marriage to a man she despises, she threatens to expose an American spy unless he helps her flee.
Lt. Lance Grainger, intrigued by her audacity as much as her beauty, knows if Sorina disappears, her arrogant fiancé will follow, thus distracting him from the insurgency he’s plotting. But there’s a risk. As the son of a man branded a coward, Lance has spent his entire career rebuilding his family’s honor. If he’s thought to be a deserter, his honor will be in shreds.
Return of the Fox Page 23