“I love you too,” she said, then watched with stunned surprise as he reached into his pocket and brought out a small box.
“Then it seems like it might finally be the right time to ask—”
She gasped in shock. Josephine had dreamed about this moment so many times before, but she hadn’t expected it to happen like this. She felt surprisingly unprepared. “Martin, what are you doing?”
“I’m proposing, my dear girl.”
Almost on instinct, she protested, “But our plans… We haven’t…” She trailed off, having trouble finding the words, and he held up a hand to stop her.
“It doesn’t matter, darling. You will. We will. Together. I don’t want to wait any longer to make you mine.” He blushed. “And not because I want to do things with you that are inappropriate for an unmarried lady. I want to spend my life with you, Josephine. And raise children with you. And well, yes, do inappropriate things with you.” His smile turned slightly devilish and he bent down on one knee, opening the box. “So, Josephine Galena Valencia, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Another gasp escaped her lips at the knowledge that it was finally happening. The rest of her life was finally beginning. “Oh yes, Martin, yes! I’d be honored to be your wife.” Her hand shook as Martin slipped the simple gold band with a small but brilliantly glittering stone onto her finger. The metal warmed her, and for a second it seemed as if sparks glanced off it, awakening fire in the stone.
Then Martin drew her into his strong arms. He kissed her until she was almost breathless. Her heart raced madly beneath her breast, and behind her closed eyelids, she saw fireworks.
Martin laid his hands on her, tracing the shape of her curves and drawing her ever closer. Josephine hoped that neither her abuela nor mami would be home anytime soon so she and Martin could celebrate in ways that were inappropriate, but not that inappropriate. At least not yet.
As Martin and Josephine rejoiced, it seemed to Josephine that it was just a matter of time before the other parts of her plan fell into place. But of course, the road of love is never quite so smooth. In fact, for Josephine Galena Valencia, the journey on that road was about to hit quite a number of bumps.
Martin stood with his boss in the Pinkerton office as Mayor Reilly paced before them. The man’s agitation was apparent as he stroked his thick moustache and complained about the city’s problems with their neighbor to the north.
“There isn’t a day that goes by that Doc isn’t called to North Miami to patch up someone who’s gotten shot or been knifed,” the mayor railed and shot a pained look at his marshal as the man fidgeted beside him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mayor, but even with an assistant, we’re so busy checking licenses, sidewalks, and street lamps, and now you want me to be the fire chief too. There’s only so much a man can do,” the marshal replied, but stopped his excuses at a steely glare from the mayor.
“Which is why you’re here, detectives.” The mayor crossed his arms. “We need the Pinkertons to find out who’s supplying these North Miami dens of iniquity with their liquor and prostitutes, and we need you to keep that filth from moving downward into our area. Miami prides itself on being a moral and chaste town.”
Martin shared a look with his boss, who said, “We’d be delighted to assist you and investigate, sir. Detective Cadden is one of our best, and I have no doubt he can get to the source of the problems.”
Mayor Reilly nodded and gestured to his marshal. “We have some information for you on the murders that have occurred in the area lately.” Chaste and moral as it may have been thanks to the restrictions one of the city’s founders, Mrs. Julia Tuttle, had placed on landholders, in recent months Miami had been the center of a small crime wave. In the nearly six years since Mrs. Tuttle had finally convinced Henry Flagler to expand his railway line to the city, the town seemed as if it had doubled in size. And now that growth showed no signs of stopping, as people came in search of their fortunes in the burgeoning Magic City. Unfortunately, as of late, more and more of those enterprising individuals were being kidnapped and killed. “We believe some of them may be connected to whoever is bringing in the contraband.”
The marshal handed Martin a folder containing a stack of grainy photographs as well as the list of names and dates for the deceased. As he peered at the photos and the dates, he could already see a pattern. “It seems like the murders first started while the railways and hotels were being built five or six years ago, and then there’s a gap before they begin again. Do you have any thoughts about why that might be?”
The mayor and marshal shared an uneasy glance. With a cough, the mayor said, “You are sharp, Detective Cadden. We suspect it’s someone connected to one of the hotels. Maybe someone with a large yacht that can transport liquor into one of the marinas.”
A yacht at either the Royal Palm or Regal Sol, the only two hotels with marinas on the river, means the criminals have both money and social connections, Martin thought. “If that’s what our investigations reveal, it may be hard to prosecute them,” he said.
“We understand. We’ll deal with that when you find the person or persons responsible,” Mayor Reilly replied.
Martin was happy that the mayor had said “when” and not “if.”
“You won’t be disappointed, Mayor,” Martin said and hoped that were true. But if there really was a criminal enterprise using the Regal Sol as a base of operations, Josephine might unknowingly be in the middle of a possibly dangerous situation. He’d have to be extra careful to make sure she wasn’t drawn into the investigation and that nothing he said or did compromised the task he’d been asked to complete.
This was a very big case he’d been entrusted with, and solving the case could help Martin secure his position with the agency and allow him to provide a very comfortable future for himself and Josephine. She wouldn’t have to work so hard, and maybe she could finally finish her classes and land a job as a tutor. He smiled at the thought as the men said their goodbyes and he left to return to the Regal Sol.
The diamond glittered in the light from the electric sconce as Josephine held out her hand so her best friend Liana could see the engagement ring.
Liana grasped her hand and gushed, “It’s so lovely, Josephine. I’m so happy for you and Martin. He’s one of the good ones.”
“He is one of the good ones,” she repeated as they strolled through the hotel gardens on their way to work. Dozens of guests sat in rocking chairs on the nearby veranda, enjoying the early morning sun and views of Biscayne Bay.
Martin was patient. Kind. Responsible. Gentlemanly. Yes, very gentlemanly and patient (always patient, maybe even too patient).
“Have you set a date yet?” Liana asked.
“Not yet, but I don’t think we want to wait too long.” Especially not another two years, she thought, because she could not be that patient.
At the entrance to the hotel the uniformed bellman opened the door and smiled. “Good morning, Miss Valencia. Miss Duarte,” he said and dipped his head in greeting.
“Good morning, Mr. James,” Josephine replied.
Liana saucily winked at the handsome young man. “Good morning, Matthew.”
“You are so forward, Liana,” Josephine said with a shake of her head. Her friend’s one hope was that she would meet someone who would take her somewhere far more glamorous than Miami, so she kept her flirting skills honed for that moment.
“Practicing just in case I run into Rake Solvino. Rumor has it he’s come back,” Liana whispered and scanned the lobby for any sign of the Regal Sol’s mysterious owner and wealthy railroad tycoon—not to mention reputed robber baron. It had been years since the man had taken part in extending the railroad down to Miami and built the Regal Sol. If the gossip was true, which it almost never was, both the railroad and hotel were an attempt to launder ill-gotten gains into more respectable businesses.
“Do you even know what he looks like?” Josephine asked.
With a shrug, Liana said, “Francesca saw hi
m arrive. She says he’s tall, dark, and handsome. A rake true to his name.” She sighed, and Josephine rolled her eyes. She loved her friend dearly, but sometimes she could be entirely too much.
“Hmm. Well, I must be off,” she said, hugging her friend and hurrying to the concierge desk to start her shift. But as she arrived, it was obvious that her supervisor was in an agitated state, rare for her normally unflappable boss.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Adams?”
The man dabbed at the sweat on his upper lip with his handkerchief and then mopped away even more perspiration from his brow. “I’ve just heard that we’ll have a very important guest arriving later today: Mr. Deering.”
When the name clearly didn’t ring a bell with her, he added impatiently, “From International Harvester.” That did register; Josephine recognized the name of the well-known manufacturing conglomerate. “Quite a coup that he chose us, but he won’t be arriving until very late tonight and I have no one to cover the desk in case he needs anything.”
“I can do it,” she volunteered. The extra money in her paycheck would be welcome to start some savings for her wedding to Martin.
“You’re willing to do an extra shift? I’d do it myself, but I’ve just worked a double, since Richard failed to show up yesterday afternoon.” He tut-tutted disapprovingly.
Josephine took up her spot behind the desk, and as she organized the pamphlets for the guests, she said, “Oh dear. Is he sick?”
“I don’t know. He just didn’t come in for his shift. Thank you so much for helping out, Josephine. I truly appreciate it.” He dashed off, leaving Josephine to man the desk.
Luckily, except for the late arrival of their very important guest, it was a quiet day. She booked a fishing expedition for a lovely gentleman from New York and trips into the Everglades for a number of other guests who wanted to go birding and possibly see some alligators or a panther.
Liana helped her out by bringing her some small sandwiches from the high tea service and covering for her to take a short break. By evening, however, Josephine’s stomach was growling. When a buzz began from the few guests in the lobby as a nattily dressed elderly gentleman with a short white beard entered, she gathered that it was none other than their very important person. The hotel manager rushed over to greet him and in short order, Mr. Deering and his family were on their way to a room.
She gestured to the night manager, who hurried over. “Is everything all right, Miss Valencia?”
“It is, Mr. Jackson, but if Mr. Deering doesn’t require my services, I was hoping to take a short dinner break.”
The older man nodded and smiled. “You may. We appreciate you stepping up to help us out. It’s unlike Mr. Slayton to be so irresponsible. The kitchen is already closed, but I’m sure you can find something to eat.”
With a nod, she hurried off and into the empty kitchen. A loaf of bread that had been freshly baked that morning sat on a countertop. Scrounging through the icebox, she found a block of Cheddar and a crock of butter and knew exactly what she would make.
As she laid out the items on the counter, the squeak of a door opening and the sound of footsteps drew her attention to the kitchen entrance. The shadow of a man, a big man, filled the entryway for a second before he walked in, but remained at the dark end of the room.
“Who is it?” Josephine asked, still unable to see his face in the shadows. Decidedly uneasy at being alone with a total stranger—especially since there had been some strange incidents around the hotel lately—she picked up the knife she had intended to use on the cheese.
The man strode into the room, and much to her surprise, a soft golden halo like that of an angel seemed to dance around the edges of his silhouette. It glimmered warmly as he approached, until he stepped into the circle cast by the hotel’s new-fangled electric lighting, and the brighter illumination cast his features in sharp relief.
There was nothing angelic about him.
The man was tall, dark, and handsome. Way too handsome. Way too dangerous, she corrected herself as she took in the sight of him. Dark stubble across a strong jaw called attention to full lips set in a scowl. His shirt was unbuttoned to midchest, revealing a hint of lean, smooth muscle beneath. Pinstriped pants hugged a slim waist and hips, and powerful thighs. Thick brown hair waved around his face, billowing as if touched by a breeze.
He could be the embodiment of the swashbuckling pirate hero in one of the books Josephine longed to write someday. Only he was no pirate. She knew exactly whom he was: the Regal Sol’s mysterious owner, Rake Solvino.
And, much to her surprise, the man with whom Josephine Galena Valencia had shared her very first kiss.
Well…I did not see that coming. Perhaps thisw was actually the night Josephine Galena Valencia’s life would change forever? Let’s read on and see, shall we?
Chapter Two
Josephine remembered meeting Rake years before, when she was working at the saloon near her house for the summer. She was cleaning up the saloon after hours when he appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. He was charming, and she was impressed, and before she knew it, they were eating together and talking for hours in the empty saloon. After discussing her fears and her dreams, Rake smiled at her and told her to be brave. Then they kissed.
Josephine knew in her heart that this was the last thing she should be doing…the absolute last thing.
As she stood completely thunderstruck in the kitchen of the Regal Sol, the indelible memory played across Josephine’s mind like one of Mr. Edison’s fancy new moving pictures:
Mopping spilled beer from one of the scarred wooden tables in the Golden Horseshoe saloon, sixteen-year-old Josephine Galena Valencia watched as her mother, Zara, flirted with the band conductor. Zara leaned up on tiptoes and whispered something to the man that had him blushing and nodding furiously. With a sexy smile, her mother whirled and the skirt of her costume danced in a circle around her legs. The cotton fabric caressed her curves from her waist up to the sweetheart neckline that revealed enough to be enticing while still being somewhat modest. Until her mother tugged at the waist and shifted the fabric down just another inch.
Ay, Mami, Josephine thought, heat rising to her cheeks as she finished cleaning and hurried to the back room of the North Miami saloon.
Even though Josephine was young, the bar’s owner let her clean and do odd chores so she could help earn money for her family and buy the journals where she penned her stories. Normally, Josephine kept away from the patrons, who were usually inebriated and often too free with their hands. Zara had made sure that no one touched Josephine, and for the most part, the patrons kept to themselves.
In the back, Josephine returned to cleaning and putting away the assorted dishes and glasses that had been used that night. If she finished her chores fast enough, she had a journal and pencil in her bag so that she could sit and work on her new story. It was an exciting tale of two lovers pulled apart by war and their struggles to be reunited. She had already written the part with the magical first meeting and the heartbreaking separation. Just a little more and she’d be able to give them their miracle.
When she put away the last clean glass, she sat down at the small table in the back room and pulled out her journal and a pencil. She closed her eyes and imagined the scene she was about to write, and in the distance Zara’s lovely voice serenading the audience accompanied her thoughts. Shortly after, loud applause confirmed the patrons had appreciated the song as well.
The heroine stood at the front of the saloon, singing about the pain of lost love. She searched the crowd for him, but he wasn’t there. He hadn’t been there in months since his squad had been called to the front lines to try to defend the city.
And so she sang, trying to make believe all was right in her world when nothing could be further from the truth. As she finished and walked off the stage, one of the patrons grabbed at her and snared her skirts with a filthy hand.
“Come here, girl,” he said and hauled her onto his lap. He sme
lled of stale alcohol and onions. Groping her, he earned a sharp elbow that forced the air from his lungs and allowed her to escape.
The man rose, fury in his rheumy gaze. Hands outstretched, he tried to grasp her again, but then a body stepped between the two of them, protecting her. With a flurry of punches, the drunk was soon flat on his back.
Her protector turned and she gasped. A blood-stained bandage marred his forehead, and days of stubble darkened his cheeks, but she would have recognized him anywhere.
He had finally come back for her.
Smiling, Josephine put pencil to paper to capture the scene when she suddenly realized that a man was standing before her, staring down at her.
She shot out of her chair and away from him as a moment of panic gripped her. It slipped away quickly when she saw that the smile he blessed her with was friendly and so dazzling it was like starbursts exploding. He was no more than a decade older than she was and quite handsome in a dark, mysterious way, much like the hero in the scene she had just visualized.
Arms akimbo, he said, “Who might you be? You’re too young and innocent to be in a place like this.”
“Josephine Galena Valencia.” Pride and defiance slipped into her voice. “My mother, Zara Galena Valencia, sings here, and Mr. King lets me clean up to earn a little extra cash.”
With a little harrumph, he sauntered to the table where her open journal and pencil rested. “Doesn’t look like cleaning to me.”
He turned the journal around to read it and she rushed over and snatched it out of his hand. “Did you want something, sir? Should I get Mr. King?”
Shaking his head, he said, “My business with King is concluded tonight, but I’m hungry. If you wouldn’t mind cooking, I’d be willing to pay you for it.”
Since he’d asked politely rather than commanded, and she could use the cash, Josephine nodded and went to work on a meal. “It won’t take long.”
She hurried to the icebox, where she found a slightly stale loaf of bread, cheese, and butter, and quickly prepared sandwiches to grill for both of them since she was actually quite hungry. She could feel his gaze on her as she worked and it discomfited her, making her feel like she was on display.
Snow Falling Page 2