Once a Soldier

by Mary Jo Putney

  “No, but it’s really not necessary.” She swung into her saddle. “Being unnaturally tall has its advantages.”

  “There is nothing unnatural about being tall!” Will also mounted his horse. “The effect can be quite magnificent.”

  She arched her brows. “I believe that falls in the forbidden category of flirting.”

  “Never!” he said piously as he set his mount into motion. “It’s pure truth.”

  Athena laughed, in charity with the world. She had sunshine, warmth, the best of companions, and she was taking a holiday from her usual responsibilities. Sofia was right: They both needed this period of relaxation. And while traveling with the men they wanted but couldn’t have might be stressful, it would also be a joy.

  As they rode down into the valley, Will asked Sofia, “Which side of the river will we follow?”

  “The south side, along the Porto road. It’s close to the river for much of the way,” Sofia replied. “Justin, did you study the condition of the river as you rode up here?”

  “Yes, Will had told me to pay attention, but the road swung away during the steepest part of the climb up the mountains,” Justin said. “I expect those are the parts of the river that make it impossible to take a boat down to the Douro.”

  “Yes, there’s a narrow gorge with dangerous rapids and a major cataract,” Sofia said. “I’ve only seen that waterfall from a distance, but it’s a formidable obstacle.”

  “I haven’t ridden that far lately,” Athena said, waving back at several children beside the road who were waving enthusiastically. “If I recall correctly, there’s a rough track that follows the river when the main road swings away. Is it close enough to get a clear view into the gorge?”

  “I think so,” Sofia replied. “We’ll see!”

  “I’m dead keen on blowing a few things up,” Will said helpfully. “I had Justin bring in black powder especially, and I haven’t had a chance to use it yet.”

  The others laughed. “You may get your explosive wish,” Athena said. “I apologize for depriving you of the chance to wreck the wine caves.”

  “That would have been a crime against humanity!” Justin declared, laying a dramatic hand over his heart. “Good wine should be cherished, not blown up!”

  “Bad enough to just shake it,” Sofia said loftily. “It takes days for the sediment to settle again.”

  “And that is bad,” Justin said gravely. “I try to avoid upsetting my wine.”

  “One doesn’t want angry wine,” Sofia agreed before breaking into infectious giggles. She needed this holiday from responsibility as much as Athena did.

  The four of them continued their bantering as they reached the river and headed west toward Portugal. Turning serious, Justin said, “The river is swift and could be dangerous here. How much is the flow reduced during the dry months?”

  “There’s always enough water for small boats to travel through the valley,” Sofia replied. “Even in high summer, it’s risky to ford the river in the central valley, which is why rebuilding the bridge was so important.”

  They traveled at a steady pace, with Will taking notes about the more difficult areas of the river. By early afternoon, they moved beyond the cultivated areas of the valley and into pasturelands, where occasional groups of sheep or goats grazed placidly under the relaxed eyes of young herders.

  The river became narrower and rougher, but when they stopped for a companionable lunch of bread and cheese and wine, Justin said, “The rapids are challenging, but so far, the river is no worse than some of the upper reaches of the Douro. The riverboat men who sail the ‘rabelos,’ the wine boats, are very skilled at steering through rough waters.”

  “Some of the boulders could be shifted to make a smoother channel,” Will said thoughtfully.

  Athena laughed. “Anything to use your black powder!”

  “Very true. Though it won’t be worth doing unless the lower reaches of the river can be improved sufficiently.” He finished jotting notes about what he saw in the river, the food and wine was packed away, and they continued on their way.

  Soon the main road swung away and they continued on the narrow track that followed the riverbank. The track grew rougher and steeper and the increasing number of tumbled boulders gave the landscape an eerie, unnatural look. But the mountain-bred Gabrileño horses were sure-footed and no sections of the track were impassable.

  The track leveled off and to their right the river cut deeper into the mountainside, creating the gorge Sofia had told them about. As the track started to descend, the rim of the gorge was no longer visible because mounds of boulders blocked the view.

  The thunder of falling water intensified as they continued. Will pulled his horse in and studied the mounded boulders and loose stones. “From the sounds of the water, we must be right opposite the cataract. I could climb to the top and look down into the gorge.”

  With visions of the scree shifting under his weight and pitching him into the gorge, Athena suggested, “Why don’t we continue along the track? We might find a place with a clear view.”

  “Athena is right,” Sofia said. “My brother told me there is a place where one can look down on the cataract. He . . . he promised to take me there one day.” She swallowed hard as she thought of that unfulfilled promise.

  After a last longing look at the piled stones, Will said, “In that case we should continue on. If we can’t find such a spot, I can always come back here.”

  “If that’s necessary, I’ll do the climbing,” Justin said. “I weigh several stone less than you and I’m less likely to create a rock slide.”

  They continued along the track, which wound between more boulders and occasional tough, piney trees. Then the track swung around a particularly massive boulder into a small, grassy clearing—and there was the cataract.

  Athena caught her breath at the high, powerful waterfall. Even this far above, particles of cool water brushed her face. She was equally enchanted by the beauty of the plunging waters and dismayed at how very not navigable the river was. “You’ll not be getting any rabelos over that!”

  Justin studied the gorge and the height of the cataract. “This is like a smaller version of the Valeira Gorge. That was cleared, but it was a very expensive proposition and it took years.”

  Sofia bit her lip. “There isn’t enough money in San Gabriel to undertake such a vast project.”

  “It would be far too expensive to put in a system of locks, but I think it’s possible to build a portage trail around the falls,” Will suggested. “If the rabelos can transport casks from San Gabriel to a station above the falls, mules and men could carry the wine to different rabelos on the river below.”

  “That might work,” Justin said, intrigued. “If the river below is navigable until it flows into the Douro, the only really impossible area is the gorge and cataract. We’ll have to survey the lower river, but carrying the wine around the falls could be a simple, practical solution that will make it possible to get the Gabrileño wines to market.”

  “Won’t a portage raise the costs significantly?” Athena asked.

  “Yes, but I think the quality of Gabrileño wine will persuade people to pay more,” Justin said. “There are a goodly number of English aristocrats who pride themselves on how expensive their wine is, as long as the wine is good enough to justify the cost.”

  “I like the idea of creating jobs for Gabrileños,” Sofia said thoughtfully. “Many of the men who will be returning from war will want work beyond cultivating fields and vineyards. But boats and mules and men must be paid for before we can earn any money from our wines.”

  “Might it be possible to raise foreign funds to invest in this?” Athena asked. “Form the Alcantara Wine Company. Will and Justin must know Englishmen who would consider investing in it.”

  “I know men who might be interested,” Will agreed. “Justin?”

  “Once I transport samples down the mountain so San Gabriel wines can be tasted, I know I’ll find
investors,” Justin said. “I’ll put in money myself. I think it will be a decent investment.”

  Sofia gave Justin a dazzling smile. The connection between the two was so strong, Athena could feel it. It hurt to know that her little sister of the heart had found love with a man worthy of her, yet they could never marry.

  Might San Gabriel accept a royal consort who was a Protestant Scottish merchant? Impossible to imagine. Sofia needed a husband with wealth and rank and influence beyond anything Justin had. Her marriage prospects had been a subject of Gabrileño speculation for years.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by Will saying, “I think it’s time to set up camp for the night. This is a decent location. There’s good grazing grass, a spring for watering horses and people, and boulders to protect us from the wind. There are also enough trees scattered among the boulders that firewood shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “I’m ready to call it a day,” Sofia said. “I haven’t spent this long in the saddle for months.”

  “But you ladies haven’t slowed us down at all,” Justin said as he dismounted and helped Sofia from her horse. “You’re both bruising riders.”

  “Today, more bruised than bruising,” Sofia said teasingly as she came down into his arms.

  Athena swung from her horse. “I haven’t camped on the trail like this since we traveled up from Porto five years ago. It will feel odd sleeping under the stars again.”

  “At least it doesn’t look like rain!” Sofia removed her hat and brushed back the dark tendrils that had escaped from her neatly bound hair. “Remember how wet the journey from Porto was? We looked like drowned rabbits by the time we arrived home. I never wanted to see another tent in my life!”

  “Neither did I,” Athena said fervently as she removed saddlebags and saddle. “Yet here I am, camping again and without even a tent!”

  Will dismounted and began tending his horse with the ease of long practice. “Where did the two of you stay when you hid in the hills from Baudin?”

  “A high-country cave,” Athena said. “We had a good view of the valley, and there was a spring inside, so we had water.”

  “We shared the cave with our horses so we wouldn’t be seen,” Sofia added. “Have you ever slept with horses in tight quarters?”

  “Actually, I have,” Will admitted. “It’s not my favorite situation. But worse for you because of the suddenness of the invasion.”

  Athena tried not to remember the helplessness, confusion, and sheer terror they’d felt in those days. They’d been on the verge of riding over the mountains into Spain when the French had moved out, traveling on the main eastbound road. “We spent much of our time talking about what, if anything, we could do. Without success.”

  Expression compassionate, Justin asked, “Did you consider riding off for help?”

  “Where would we go? And who would help us?” Sofia replied starkly. “San Gabriel is so isolated. It’s a long ride to the nearest towns, and anyone we found would surely have been worrying about their own survival. After Baudin and his brutes left to rejoin the main French Army, I fell on my knees and gave thanks to the Blessed Mother for their departure.”

  “We were worried they might stay,” Athena said in a low voice. “A pleasant valley with a strong castle and good wine. A soldier’s paradise.”

  “Luckily, the French Army’s loyalty to Napoleon is strong,” Will said gravely. “If they’d dug in here, they would have been very hard to dislodge.”

  They shared a glance, and she knew that he was thinking of their early discussion about the possibility of a well-organized guerilla band deciding to move in. She had been having nightmares about such an invasion.

  They had done all they could to prepare for an attack and the Gabrileño army would be home soon, so she told herself to stop worrying. Worry wouldn’t help and it shouldn’t be allowed to interfere with this brief holiday. “When the horses are taken care of, will someone gather firewood? I’ll start on our dinner.”

  “What’s on the menu?” Will asked with interest.

  “Wait and see,” Athena said as she untied one of her saddlebags. “But wine will be served with our meal.”

  “Now you’ve spoiled the surprise!” Sofia said with mock dismay. As the others laughed, she continued, “I’ll gather firewood. Justin, will you help me?”

  “It will be my great pleasure, your royal highness.” Justin pulled a small hand axe from his saddlebag in preparation. “You locate, I’ll chop.”

  “I shall make you carry the wood. You are warned!” Sofia said as she marched off between a pair of tall boulders.

  The muted roar of the nearby waterfall covered Athena’s voice as she watched Sofia and Justin disappear into the maze of boulders. “I’m not being a very good chaperone.”

  “Neither will cross the line,” Will said quietly. “But they deserve some time alone.”

  “That was my thought,” Athena said, remembering the sweetness of first love. Sofia deserved that even if she and Justin didn’t have a future. “If we’re lucky, they may even remember to bring back some firewood.”

  Will grinned. “There’s some kindling over by that boulder. I’ll get a small fire started. Maybe we can have some good English tea before dinner and wine?”

  “You’re a mind reader,” she replied. “Or perhaps just English. There is indeed tea.”

  As she pulled food and cooking utensils from her saddlebags, a chuckling Will moved across the clearing to collect the kindling. Her gaze followed him. She loved watching him move. He was all smooth, efficient power, both purposeful and relaxed. And she would never, ever tire of admiring those broad shoulders.

  She gave a small, private smile as she pulled out the packet of tea leaves. Even if they didn’t speak or touch, it was satisfying to breathe the same air.

  Chapter 23

  Sofia. Justin’s fond gaze rested on her elegantly curved form as she led the way through the maze of boulders. He’d wondered how a princess would deal with trail conditions, but Sofia was obviously having a wonderful time. Not only was she a splendid rider, but she demanded no special treatment. That was rare in well-bred young ladies, much less princesses. Though admittedly, he hadn’t met any other princesses.

  He was glad to see that the stiffness that had been between Will and Athena was gone. There was a different kind of tension that both kept firmly tamped down. He saw no sign that Athena Markham was inclined to accept Will, which was regrettable, but he did understand her reservations about an unequal marriage that would take her into the heart of the British aristocracy.

  His own family was regarded as vulgar nouveau riche in some circles. They laughed about it among themselves. The Ballards had worked hard, with energy and intelligence, and they had a fortune to rival that of most aristocrats, but they took pride in being hardheaded Scottish merchants. They could afford to laugh at aristocratic arrogance because they had success and, even more important, loving family bonds.

  Athena Markham had none of that, and he suspected she carried more than her share of hidden scars. If he could wave a magic wand to heal those scars and bring her and Will together, he’d do it in a heartbeat, because they seemed so well suited.

  He smiled wryly. At least he and Will would be able to commiserate with each other about the loss of the women they loved. Because Justin did love Sofia, and knew he always would. Neither of them had said a word or made an improper touch, yet when she was near, he felt . . . happy. More whole.

  “That dead tree can supply all the wood we need.” Sofia pointed at the gray skeleton of one of the scrubby trees that grew among the boulders. “I trust your axe is sharp?”

  “Like me, the axe is ready to serve.” With a couple of swift chops, Justin severed a branch. “Nicely seasoned, too. Not many people come this way looking for firewood.”

  Sofia gathered fallen branches as Justin chopped more from the tree, then cut them to manageable lengths. When they had a good-sized pile, he straightened and brushed bits of wo
od from his hands and clothing. “That’s enough wood to last all night. I’ll have to make two or three trips to get it all back to our campsite.”

  “I’ll help.” Sofia stared at him, her dark eyes huge and shy. “Justin?”

  “Yes, my princess?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Will you kiss me?”

  He felt as if she’d clubbed him with a heavy branch. After swallowing hard, he said, “There is nothing I would like better, but is this wise?”

  “No. But it is necessary.” Sofia bit her lip before continuing to speak. “If I was not who and what I am, our situation would be very different. But San Gabriel must come first. My marriage prospects are being discussed all over the country, and no one less than the son of a high-ranking Spanish or Portuguese nobleman is being considered. When Colonel da Silva returns home, a short list will be chosen and negotiations will begin to find the best and most appropriate royal consort for the queen of San Gabriel.”

  His heart tightened. “So soon?”

  “I’m twenty-four. It’s time I married and began a family, because it isn’t right that the direct line of the Royal House of Alcantara has dwindled down to me.” She raised her chin, her gaze defiant. “I shall do my duty, but I want one kiss with you to . . . to cherish through the long years and nights ahead.”

  Awed that she shared his feelings, he said, “I want to kiss you too much, meu anjo, my angel. Perhaps it’s best if you kiss me instead.”

  She nodded and stepped shyly forward. He was no more than average height, but her petite frame made her seem rare and fragile. Having seen her ride, he knew that she wasn’t fragile at all, but rare she was. So very rare.

  She placed her hands lightly on his shoulders and studied his face intensely, as if to memorize his features and this moment. Then she rose on tiptoes and touched her mouth to his. Her lips were exquisitely soft.

  Unable to resist, he clasped his hands on her waist below her short jacket, holding her in kissing distance. She was ripe with life and sensuality; her mouth sweet as strawberries. Knowing they must not allow the mood to intensify dangerously, he murmured, “We both smell of horse.”