by Paula Scott
“You have an uncle and aunt in Monterey,” Dominic guessed with a grin.
“And plenty of cousins.” Roman returned Dominic’s smile.
After arranging for Rancho de los Robles’s vaqueros to ride down the coast to meet them with the horses after a day of rest for the cowboys, Roman and Rachel and Dominic rowed out to The White Swallow in a little boat.
As the morning gave way in San Francisco Bay, the breeze picked up. By the afternoon, a brisk wind blew off the ocean, carrying The White Swallow with all of her billowing sails swiftly down the coast toward Monterey.
Roman and Rachel stood with Dominic on deck under the summer sun as he good-naturedly captained his men while entertaining his guests by pointing out whales and sea lions and dolphins and all sorts of sightings as The White Swallow followed the coastline.
Dominic had a special meal prepared for Roman and Rachel, and that night after supper, they stargazed from the deck. Rachel then retired alone to the wood-paneled captain’s quarters as Roman and Dominic remained on deck the rest of the night sailing the ship.
The morning found The White Swallow in the blue-green waters of Monterey Bay. Rachel went up on deck with Roman and Dominic as the picturesque town with its red-roofed, whitewashed adobes came into view.
Roman was taken aback to see the American flag waving over the presidio. He hadn’t known Monterey had fallen to the Americanos as well.
Concealing his dismay, he said a silent prayer that God would protect them this day and that by nightfall, he and Rachel would be husband and wife.
Dominic’s deckhand, Jamie, the curly haired, blond boy who had captured Isabella’s fancy, rowed Roman to shore after The White Swallow anchored in the harbor.
Rachel and Dominic remained on the ship. Dominic to watch the crew, and Rachel to await Roman’s return.
Dominic sent his first mate, a red-haired bear of a man, Jack Andrews, along in the rowboat in case Roman met with any resistance from the American soldiers now in charge of Monterey harbor.
On shore, the burly first mate wasted no time ordering the young deckhand to run ahead to the church to warn the padre they were coming and wanted a wedding performed that afternoon.
Roman kept quiet, though the first mate’s high-handedness disturbed him. Californios did not appreciate such brusqueness. A Spanish padre would not take kindly to being told he must perform a wedding on a moment’s notice.
Praying the Lord would smooth the way, Roman walked from the docks to the church to speak to the padre himself. It had been years since he’d been in Monterey. The sun felt warm on his face. Seagulls swooped overhead, their squawks filling his ears. He thought of his mother, a sought-after belle in Monterey, until his father married her and whisked her away to Rancho de los Robles.
By the time he reached the Royal Presidio Chapel, entering the sandstone sanctuary with a prayer on his lips, the deckhand, Jamie, was all but pleading with the grim-faced padre near the altar. Roman was grateful the blustering first mate had stopped at the customhouse to announce The White Swallow’s arrival and had not appeared here yet.
“Por favor, Padre,” Roman interrupted in Spanish. “I am Roman Miguel Vicente Ramon Vasquez. . .”
“My boy,” cried the old priest, a smile splitting his ancient face. “Come closer so I can look at you, mi hijo. You have become a fine man.”
Roman recognized the bent old padre. “Father Santiago!” He strode forward and embraced the priest.
The padre laughed with joy. “You still have your mother’s green eyes. And her sweet smile as well.” The padre held Roman by the cheeks, gazing up at him with great pleasure.
Tears flowed out of Roman’s eyes, dampening the padre’s wrinkled hands. “I was just thinking of my mother as I walked here from the harbor.”
“God has reconciled you to her death, then?”
“He has,” Roman said with wonder in his voice. His mother’s death had always been so painful for him. To have peace about it now after all these years surprised him.
“You have met our Lord Jesus, I see. The light of his Spirit shines on your face, my son.”
“Si.” Roman no longer cared that he couldn’t stop the tears.
Father Santiago patted Roman’s wet cheek. “My prayers all these years for you have not been in vain. God has purchased you with the blood of his precious Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.”
“You have prayed for me?” Roman found it hard to believe.
“Since your mother’s passing. Your courage at her graveside broke my heart. I told our Lord I would pray all my life for Domitilla’s green-eyed boy.” The old priest smiled. “Now I can die in peace knowing your soul is safe with him.”
Jamie cleared his throat. Both Roman and Father Santiago had forgotten about the boy. “Should I tell the captain the wedding will take place this afternoon, then?”
“These Americanos,” Father Santiago said in Spanish. “They are so impatient. They marry like they do everything else, swift as sand dries in the sun.”
“I am sorry,” Roman apologized. “The wedding he speaks of is my wedding.”
“Yours!” Father Santiago cried, a wide smile taking over his wrinkled face. The padre turned to the deckhand. “By all means, tell your captain I will perform the wedding at dusk. Roman will remain here with me until then. We need time to prepare for this holy union.”
“Please have Captain Mason bring my sack of belongings so I can change into my wedding attire when he escorts Rachel here.” Roman spoke with Jamie.
The deckhand nodded and hurried from the church, appearing much relieved to escape the place.
Father Santiago laughed. “Our Lord has brought you to me for your marriage. I am so pleased, mi hijo.” The padre began to cry, tears dripping down his weathered old face.
“May I confess my sins to you, Father Santiago, so that you can pray with me to walk uprightly before God the rest of my days?”
“By all means.” The little priest waved Roman toward the confessional.
“Can we kneel here at the foot of the cross instead?” Roman looked toward the altar with its crucifix hanging there.
“Of course, mi hijo.” Father Santiago knelt down on the hard tile in front of the altar. He waved Roman down beside him.
On his knees, Roman bowed his head. He had lived in sin for so many years. He had much to confess. The Americanos he killed in Texas. The adultery he’d committed with Sarita. His coupling with other women. At every turn, he had rebelled against God, leading a godless life among godless people.
He told Father Santiago of his loathing for Sarita. His relief and grief at the news of her death along with, perhaps, his child. The fierce hatred he still carried for Luis Lopez. And his heartbreak over Steven giving his life for him. Once he finished, Father Santiago began to pray. On and on the priest prayed until Roman lost track of time and space and all his sins.
Finally, Father Santiago blessed Roman, and the two men rose to their feet. He helped Father Santiago to stand as the old priest struggled to rise after kneeling for so long.
“These arthritic bones don’t move like they used to.” Father Santiago smiled.
“I am sorry my sin kept you so long on your knees,” Roman apologized, smiling too.
“You did not keep us there. Our Lord kept us there. He is purifying your heart, mi hijo. Time on one’s knees is required for cleansing.”
“I do feel cleaner. Like a newborn lamb.”
“You are clean. The blood of Christ has washed all your sins away. As far as the east is to the west, your sins have been removed, mi hijo. You are white as washed wool now.”
Father Santiago led Roman over to sit on one of the wooden benches. “Tell me about your betrothed. Will her confession take as long as yours?” the old padre teased.
Roman smiled. “She will probably not confess to you at all. She is a devout Protestant, though she’s been baptized into the Catholic faith.”
“Does your señorita know our Lord?”<
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“She knows Jesus quite well,” Roman assured Father Santiago.
“Then she will confess her sins before I marry you. Confession is an essential part of every believer’s life. I must find my best robe. We will light every candle in the church. When your señorita arrives you will wait in my room until I have heard her confession. Then you may come out to meet her at our Lord’s altar where the two of you will become one flesh.” Father Santiago clapped his hands in anticipation.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Aboard the The White Swallow, Rachel dressed for the wedding in the captain’s quarters, brushing her hair until it shone, putting on her best gown— the lovely rose-colored silk-and-lace gown she’d worn for the signing of the betrothal papers. The neckline plunged too low in her estimation, but it was the only fancy dress she’d carried with her. It really was her favorite frock. And she knew Roman found her appealing in it. Her other ball gowns remained at Rancho de los Robles. Someday she hoped to live there with Roman. It was his home, a home he loved. She’d grown to love Rancho de los Robles too. She couldn’t wait to become Roman’s wife. His strong arms around her always. His ardent kisses never having to stop.
She wanted to look her loveliest today. Dominic had an impressive mirror in his cabin, something rare indeed in California. Rachel pinned her hair as best she could, leaving nearly all of it hanging down her back, mostly because she only had a few hairpins with her.
The results of a lack of pins pleased her. She picked up her Bible, taking time to pray and read Song of Songs there in the quiet of the captain’s quarters. My lover is mine and I am his; he browses among the lilies. Until the day breaks and the shadows flee . . .
Finally, the day was really breaking. She praised the Lord for his faithfulness and asked him to bless their marriage. And to take care of Steven. Surely, Steven was at the Lord’s side in heaven now, smiling down on them.
As afternoon gave way to early evening, Dominic knocked on the door to tell her it was time to row ashore. When she opened the portal, he stepped back with a beaming smile.
“You look beautiful,” he said with such sincerity Rachel blushed all the way to her toes.
“Thank you,” she answered softly, wishing Steven was here with them too.
“You’re thinking of Steven, aren’t you?” The smile left Dominic’s face.
“I do wish Steven was with us. Roman adored him, you know.”
“Steven was easy to adore. It doesn’t seem like he’s gone. I keep thinking he’s going to join us at any moment.” Dominic stepped out of Rachel’s way, waving her to walk before him, up the stairs to the top deck.
“I feel like that too. He isn’t gone, just waiting for us to greet him again one day soon. I believe he will be there to walk us through the gates of heaven.”
Dominic sighed with regret when they reached the upper deck and looked out over the ocean. “I took it for granted that Steven would sail back to Boston with me. Having a minister on The White Swallow changed my crew. They minded their manners and talked about their mothers for a change. Many a night, Steven and I charted the stars and spoke of God. I will miss our talks, and my crew will miss Steven’s Sabbath services on the deck.” Dominic smiled wistfully.
Rachel smiled too and dabbed at her tears.
Every man on deck stopped what he was doing to stare at her as she made her way to the rowboat, her gown and hair shimmering in the sinking sun as she swished past the speechless sailors. Men smiled, but not a word was said until the rowboat was well out in the water.
“My men will be useless for the rest of the day,” Dominic said as he rowed the dinghy through the gentle swells of Monterey Bay.
Pelicans flew overhead. The blond boy, Jamie, sat with his back to Dominic and Rachel. “I doubt any of them have seen a bride on her way to her wedding. Jamie, have you ever seen a bride off to her wedding in a rowboat?”
“No, and there’s nothing prettier,” he shyly replied.
“Thank you.” Rachel’s cheeks reddened. “Do you ever allow your men to venture ashore, Captain Mason?” She hoped small talk would quiet the fluttering in her stomach.
“Usually I do, but with this war going on, I’m hesitant to release the crew into town. I think it safer for the men to stay aboard the ship for now.”
“Is there any trouble in Monterey?” Rachel craned her neck to view the waterfront. The beautiful village surrounded by a forest of pines was still a ways in the distance.
“My first mate tells me all is calm in the village. A curfew has been placed on the people. I guess nobody put up a fight when the navy arrived. The American flag has been flying for several days now without interference.”
“Do you think California will become part of the United States?” Rachel asked.
“I hope so. San Francisco Bay alone is worth the war. I believe a great city will spring up by the bay. I plan to make that city my home someday, God willing.”
“That would be wonderful. You could visit us at the rancho from time to time. Maria would be happy to see you.” Rachel couldn’t resist teasing him for a moment.
“She’s as obstinate as her brother used to be. That girl will light some man’s world on fire.”
“You must pray for the Lord to save her as he saved Roman. I have gotten to know Maria, and underneath her fieriness, she is rather sweet and vulnerable and very smart.”
A rueful smile twisted Dominic’s mouth. “I see nothing sweet and vulnerable in that young woman. Smart, yes, give her a stage and she could rule the world.”
“Would you have ever guessed Roman could become the man he is today? A follower of Christ, and your friend?”
“Not in a million years,” Dominic conceded with a laugh.
Rachel turned serious. “Do you think Roman is in danger with the town ruled by American forces?”
Dominic appeared to measure his words carefully. “During a war everyone is in danger. Violence breeds violence, but God is in control. If the Lord wants Roman safe, he will be kept safe.”
Dominic’s faith calmed her. She gazed at the lovely little town, in close range now. The village was situated in a large cove surrounded by all those tall pines trees, everything lush and green, with the village’s houses plastered white and topped by red tile roofs. Such a pretty pastoral scene. An old man wearing a serape walked slowly past the customhouse. A few dogs trotted down a dirt road. Several American soldiers strolled along in front of the presidio, but the men smiled, appearing relaxed in their uniforms.
“The church isn’t far, Captain,” Jamie said. “Should I find a horse for the lady, or would she prefer to walk through the village?”
“I’ll walk.” Rachel smiled at the curly haired boy.
Jamie’s face reddened under her attention.
“May I lift you out of the boat and carry you through the surf so you don’t soak your comely dress?” Dominic waited expectantly.
Rachel looked at the foamy water washing against the sides of the boat. “That would be fine.” Her face turned as red as Jamie’s, considering Dominic would have to hoist her into his arms.
“Here goes.” He scooped her up, carrying her to shore with ease. “Let me get you through the sand,” he said, continuing to bear her all the way up the beach until they hit the hard, dry dirt of the street.
She’d gotten somewhat accustomed to Roman putting his hands on her, but in Dominic’s arms she felt painfully self-conscious. “Thank you,” she said when he placed her on the ground.
“My pleasure.” He surveyed the sleepy village.
“The church is at this end of town.” Jamie led the way up the street.
“After my lady.” Dominic waved her to walk between him and Jamie.
As they strolled through the village, the voice of a child cried out. “Rachel!” The little red-haired girl ran to catch up with them. “Rachel! I knew t’was you!” Molly threw herself against Rachel’s legs.
Tears filled Rachel’s eyes. “Molly!” She bent down
to embrace the little girl.
“Ma sent me to fetch fish from the docks. When I saw you, I couldn’t believe my bloomin’ eyes.” Molly’s eyes shone with joy. “You’re all dressed up. Where you goin’?”
“I’m getting married.” Rachel surveyed the child, noting with great pleasure Molly’s rounded cheeks and glowing health. Nearly six months ago, departing the ship and saying good-bye had been so difficult. Walking off the dock after hugging Molly and her mother, she wondered if she’d ever see them again.
“Can I come to your wedding?” Molly clung to Rachel, her freckled arms wrapped around Rachel’s satin waist.
“Go fetch your ma right now and meet us at the Royal Presidio Chapel,” Rachel told her.
“Can I bring my pa and brothers too?”
“You found your father?” Pleasure poured through Rachel. God had answered her prayers for Molly!
The smile wavered on Molly’s face for only a moment. “My old pa is buried in the cemetery. That’s where we found him when we got here. My new pa is the town blacksmith. He’s a widower, and I got me two brothers now!”
“Oh my,” Rachel said. “God has blessed you with a brand new family.”
“He sure has.” The smile shone once more on Molly’s precious face. “My new pa’s a God-fearin’ man. And Ma is happy now.”
“What wonderful news, Molly. Why don’t you go see if your family can join us for the wedding.” Rachel looked up at Dominic and Jamie. “Where’s the church?”
“Over yonder.” Jamie pointed to the sandstone building up the street as the sinking sun cast a golden glow over the entire town.
“I still got them pretty dresses you made me on the ship.” Molly walked backward. “I don’t live far from here. I’ll go fetch everyone and be back in a lick.” The little girl waved happily and then turned and raced down the street, her skirts flying.
Rachel swept tears off her cheeks. Only God could have arranged this meeting with Molly. She said a grateful prayer as they continued on to the church, where Dominic opened the heavy wooden door for her to slip inside the sanctuary. That’s when she noticed Dominic, in his finest captain’s garb, was all wet from the knees down due to carrying her through the surf. “Thank you for all you’ve done for us,” she told him, tearing up once more. Her heart felt so full, happiness expanding inside her.