Josephine held Marcos close as the baby nursed. Tears of relief filled her gaze and escaped down her cheeks and onto the baby, but that didn’t disturb him as he greedily rooted at her breast. His hearty hunger gave her peace of mind that the baby truly was unharmed by the day’s ordeal.
A knock came at the door followed by Martin’s hushed words, “Can I come in?”
Her heart danced with joy that he was safe and finally there. When Rake had told her of Martin’s selflessness and how he’d risked his life for Marcos, her heart had ached at the thought of how close she’d come to losing him.
She shifted the baby’s blanket upward for modesty’s sake and called out, “Yes, please. I need to see you.”
The door opened a crack, and he stuck his head in, tentative. A bright flush of color worked up his neck and reddened his cheeks as he realized the baby was nursing. “Are you sure?”
She smiled because his embarrassment and thoughtfulness were so Martin. She held her hand out, beckoning him to join her. “I’m more than sure. Please come here.”
As he walked toward her, she drank in the sight of him. His hair was still damp in spots, but a few sandy blond curls had dried and framed his handsome face. His normally pristine charcoal-gray suit and starched white shirt were wrinkled and likewise dampened here and there. The squeak of his shoes also had a telltale squish to them as he ambled to the bed, his dirt-stained boater in hand.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as he sat beside her, his gaze skipping nervously from her face to the towel covering the baby and back again.
“Tired. Relieved. I was so worried about you. Especially when Rake told me what happened.”
“I’m fine. Just a little wet. The important thing is that the baby… Marcos, is fine.”
“I don’t know how I could ever thank you for what you did,” she said and cupped his jaw. She lovingly ran her thumb across his lips, anxious for the feel of them, but suddenly uncertain as to where they stood.
Rake had said that Martin had been quiet and subdued after he’d rescued the baby. Rake had written it off to the fact that Sin Sombra had escaped, but Josephine worried that it was more than that. Was he having second thoughts now that Marcos was really here?
“It’s my job,” he said with a sheepish shrug and a bobble of his hat in his hands.
“No,” she said confidently. “Some men wouldn’t have done what you did. To risk your life for another man’s child. A man who—”
He raised his hand to stop her. “I would do anything for you, Josephine. Anything. And for Marcos too. The instant I saw you holding him… I couldn’t love him any less than if he were my own, you know.”
“I know, Martin. It’s what makes you so, so special,” she said and gave in to the need she had been feeling since earlier that afternoon. She leaned forward and kissed him, letting him know just what she was feeling with her tender, yet demanding, caress of his lips. Feeling the glow within her expand again and bathe them both in its loving light.
He groaned and deepened the kiss, but then jerked away abruptly as the baby fussed.
“We shouldn’t,” he said, but glanced downward at where the blanket had slipped, revealing the baby as it nursed at Josephine’s breast.
Bright color rose to his cheeks again, but she took hold of his hand and rested it on the baby’s side. “Rake may be the father of this baby, but I know that you will protect him and me with every fiber of your being because you love us. Because you are the most honorable and kind man that I know.”
His lips quirked up in a half smile. “And patient. Maybe too patient. You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that I hadn’t said we should wait. That we had…that you and I had made this baby,” he said and gestured to the two of them.
With a relieved sigh, she said, “I’ve wished that also, Martin. So many times. All I can say again is that I’m sorry that I was so foolish.”
His eyes met hers, and the worry in them nearly broke her heart. “You don’t have to apologize anymore. And I know this may not be the right time to ask—”
“It isn’t because it’s my time to ask, Martin. My time to make things right,” she said.
A puzzled look flashed across his features, before his eyes widened in understanding. “Josephine, are you proposing?”
She smiled and cradled his cheek. “I am proposing, Martin, but I’m afraid I’m not very good at this at all.”
He shifted his head to kiss her palm and whispered, “You don’t have to do this.”
“But I do, Martin. Because I want you to know the reasons that I love you. I love you because you are kind and caring.”
He raised a finger to stop her. “And don’t forget patient.”
“Always patient. And you’re hardworking and responsible.”
He quirked his lips playfully. “You make me sound so…boring.”
She leaned close, ran her thumb across his lips, and whispered, “Oh no, not at all. In fact, I think about doing inappropriate things with you all the time.”
He chuckled and closed the distance between them, kissing her until her head swam, and she had to grab hold of his shoulder to right her spinning world. As they broke apart, he said, “What else?”
With a smile, she continued, “You are my best friend. As confused as I’ve been over the last few months, when I’m with you, everything seems clear, and I’m at peace.”
“That’s quite a responsibility, Josephine,” he said, growing serious.
“It is, I know, but… We can do this together, Martin. I want to marry you and have babies with you because I love you, with all my heart and soul.”
He cupped her face in his hands, smiled, and nearly shouted, “Yes, yes, yes, Josephine Galena Valencia. I’d be honored to be your husband.”
At the loud sounds of their joy, the baby stopped nursing and let out a querulous, mewling noise. They both laughed at that, and Martin reached out and caressed Josephine’s cheek. “I’ve always loved you. And I was really hoping we could do a lot of inappropriate things together,” he said as his half grin broadened into a welcoming smile that lit his crystal-blue eyes with joy and laughter.
She laughed and tangled her fingers in his hair. Gently cupping the back of his neck, she drew him near again and whispered against his lips, “You’re my best friend and my true love. I—”
He cut her off with the determined press of his lips against hers, showing her just how much he needed her. How much he cherished her as he kissed her over and over again, until they were both breathless and broke apart, laughing and smiling.
“How soon can we get married?” Josephine said.
With another grin that made her heart skip a beat, Martin said, “Whenever it is, it will never be soon enough for me.”
Aw. You see, my friends? True love wins out in the end, just like in Josephine’s beloved Jane Austen novels! But what about that elusive Sin Sombra? I cannot believe we have seen the last of her!
In the Valencia household things got back to normal much sooner than expected. By the next morning Alberta was off to work, Martin had dropped by to see Josephine and Marcos before going to the Pinkerton office, and Zara and Ronaldo were helping Josephine change the baby’s diaper.
“I tell you, there is something wrong with Marcaldo, because it is impossible for anything to smell that bad,” Ronaldo began as he waved his hand over the diaper to dispel the stink.
Josephine wrinkled her nose and grimaced. “I think Papi may be right. This smells too bad to be normal.”
Zara rolled her eyes. With no wasted motions, she quickly dispatched the offending diaper into a special laundry pail, cleaned and rediapered Marcos, and handed him to Josephine. “He is just fine. Once he’s eating regular food, it won’t be as bad.”
“I hope that won’t be too long from now,” Ronaldo said and eagerly held his hands out for the baby. At Zara’s questioning glance, he said, “I want to make up for not being here for you and Josephine.”
Zara shook her head, chuckled, and playfully whipped him with a clean diaper. “If you want to make up, you’ll learn to change a dirty diaper.”
Josephine sat at the kitchen table, loving the easy exchange between her mother and father. They were clearly content, and it was impossible not to see that there was still affection between them and maybe more. She was hopeful for that since Ronaldo intended to stay in Miami with his troupe for the next few months.
A loud knock drew their attention, and Josephine shuffled to the door, her body still tender. “Come in,” she called out, not wanting to keep whomever it was waiting.
Rake stepped inside holding a bouquet of flowers and a hand-sewn stuffed monkey doll. “I just wanted to see how you and the baby were doing.”
“We’re doing fine, thank you.” She smiled and beckoned him in farther, shutting the door. “Mami. Papi. Rake and I need to talk,” she said and inclined her head toward the back veranda.
Ronaldo crossed his arms and said, “Well, of course you need to talk. Especially now that you and Martin—”
He let out an oomph and stopped as Zara elbowed him powerfully. “Let’s step outside for some fresh air, Ronaldo,” her mother said.
Ronaldo’s eyes opened in understanding. “Oh, yes, of course. Of course.”
After he and Zara hurried outside, Rake looked at her, puzzlement warring with concern on his handsome features. “Now that you and Martin…”
“Are getting married,” she finished for him and then quickly added, “He still loves me. And I still love him.”
“And you have no issue with the fact that he was dead set on proving I was a crime boss even though I wasn’t?” he shot back and dragged his fingers through his thick hair. Tossing the bouquet and toy onto the kitchen table, he jammed his hands on his hips and began to pace. “And what about his job? It’s dangerous work. Can you handle that?” Rake challenged.
Josephine arched a brow and, in a tone as cold as she could manage, said, “It wasn’t Martin’s job that put Marcos in danger. It was your stepmother, as I recall.”
Rake muttered a curse beneath his breath and returned to stand before her. “What can he give you that I can’t? What can he offer you?”
She sighed. “He’s a good man, Rake. One who risked his life to save our son, or have you forgotten that so quickly?”
Her words were like a pin in a balloon, and he immediately deflated. “You’re serious about this? Because I meant what I said, Josephine. I’ve never stopped loving you.” He reached out to trace a fingertip along Marcos’s tiny face. “This is what I want. Our family.”
“I know. But I am serious,” she said, no doubt in her tone. “I love Martin, and I know he will do anything to make our marriage work. Including letting you be a part of Marcos’s life. Can you say the same?”
Rake blew out a breath and shook his head. “If you were my wife, I wouldn’t share you with anyone else.”
Josephine took hold of one of Rake’s hands and held it close. “I care for you, Rake, but my heart belongs to Martin. I need you to accept that, because I can’t have animosity between you in front of Marcos. Can you do that? Can you be just my friend?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment, but then he said, “I don’t want to play second fiddle to Martin when it comes to my son. Can you handle that? Can he?”
“I would never hinder your relationship with Marcos,” she said. Because she had utter faith in Martin and his selflessness, she said, “Neither will Martin. Can we all try to make this work?”
A long moment rife with uncertainty followed until Rake finally nodded. “I will try, Josephine. For you and for Marcos.”
She smiled and squeezed his hand to reassure him. “Would you like to give your son that toy now?”
At her words, the baby gurgled, right on cue, and Rake smiled. “Yes, I would.”
She watched him give their son yet another toy, his first of undoubtedly many. Rake had changed her life forever in so many ways. He’d dared her to dream and challenged her to discover what was truly in her heart. A heart full of love for Martin and the baby and yes, Rake, but not in that way. A life full with a family that was finally complete. Martin, Marcos, Zara, Alberta, Ronaldo, and yes, Rake. Life was truly wonderful.
Wonderful, yes, but let’s go back a bit. Second fiddle? A man like Rake? Never. But enough about that. It’s time to plan a wedding. And what about Ronaldo and Zara? They seemed rather friendly, didn’t they? Could it be we’ll soon be having a second Valencia wedding?
Chapter Nineteen
THREE MONTHS LATER
(Which was not soon enough for either Josephine or Martin and way too soon as far as Rake was concerned)
Her grandmother smoothed the satin and lace over Josephine’s hips. The fabric had aged to the color of the French vanilla ice cream the Regal Sol served in its dining room and smelled of the gardenias her abuela had placed in the trunk where it was stored. “It’s beautiful, Abuela.”
Alberta’s eyes misted with tears as she stood behind Josephine and glanced into the cheval mirror. She rested her hands on Josephine’s shoulders and smiled. “You look lovely. I am so happy that my wedding dress fits you.”
Josephine ran her hands along the skirt of the gown and met her grandmother’s gaze in the mirror. “I can’t imagine getting married in anything else.”
Zara rushed in a second later with a length of light blue satin ribbon and a silver tiara. “You have your something old and now something new and something blue,” she said, madly waving both in the air.
She stood next to Alberta and artfully tucked the ribbon around the bun at the top of Josephine’s head, and then twined the ribbon with some of her dark curls. After, she secured the silver tiara, a bridal gift from Ronaldo, onto the top of Josephine’s head and like Alberta, stared into the mirror at the beautiful portrait of three generations of Valencia women.
“Mi’ja, I am so happy for you. Martin is such a lucky man,” Zara said.
“A very lucky man,” Alberta confirmed with a nod.
Josephine met their gazes, her eyes growing watery as she stared at her two best friends—besides Martin, of course. “I’m the one who’s lucky to have you both in my life.”
A knock came at the door. Zara hopped excitedly. “That must be Ronaldo. He was bringing a carriage around to get you. I’ll go let him in.”
Her father, God bless him, had been as demanding in helping her plan her wedding as he had been when arranging for the arrival of his troupe. Note after note had arrived via messenger with suggestions for the wedding concerning the music, venue, food, and guests for the big event. She’d understood that he was just Ronaldo being Ronaldo while also trying to make up for his absence for so much of her life.
At the sound of a footstep at her door, she turned, but it wasn’t her father. It was Rake.
“I wasn’t expecting you.” She glanced at her grandmother and said, “Could we have a minute, Abuela.”
With a regal tilt of her head, her abuela walked toward the door. When she reached it, she raised her index finger and nearly jabbing it into his face, she scolded Rake. “Do not even think of making our Josephine cry on such a special day.”
Rake stayed clear of that condemning finger, but when Alberta exited, he closed the door behind her and stared at her for long seconds.
“What is it, Rake? Is something wrong with Marcos?” Lucia had offered to watch him that morning so that Josephine could prepare for the wedding. Josephine had agreed because she knew the other woman was still feeling guilt after allowing him to be kidnapped. She wanted Lucia to know that she trusted her.
“You look so, so beautiful, Josephine,” he said, but then shook his head, as if to shake out cobwebs, and plunged on. “But no, there is nothing wrong. I just wanted to congratulate you.”
“You did?” In the months leading up to the wedding, they had worked out a schedule so Rake could spend time with Marcos. But there was still a great deal of awkwardness between the m
en, so the well wishes were a surprise.
He reached for her hands and took them into his. “During these last few months, seeing you together, I realized Martin is the man who will make you happiest. It was hard to admit that to myself, but he’s a good man, an honorable man. I know he’s the right choice for you. And for Marcos. I know he loves our son.”
Pleased, she cradled his cheek and offered him an indulgent smile. “Thank you, Rake. I appreciate how hard it must have been for you to say that.”
He laughed roughly and looked down. “You can’t even begin to imagine. I love you, Josephine, and I always will. But,” he exhaled and shook his head, “I need to move on with my life. So I’ve been thinking about opening a new Regal Sol over in South Beach for those people who prefer the shore to the city. I’ll have to buy some land from Mr. Collins, and it may take some time to develop the area, but I think it’s going to be a great location in the future.”
“Rake, that’s wonderful.” She rose on tiptoes and brushed a platonic kiss on his cheek. “But I thought that finances were difficult, especially with your…other businesses shutting down.”
“Well, actually,” he smiled sheepishly, “I hadn’t realized that my shares in the railroad had grown dramatically over the last six years. The bank was willing to take them as collateral if I sold them the railcar as well. Since I have things to keep me in Miami and won’t be traveling all that much, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea to sell it to the bank.”
She smiled, happy that Rake was turning things around.
“Josephine? Ronaldo is here,” her mother said through the thin wooden planks of the door, nervous energy coloring her words.
Rake offered her his arm and walked her out and to the front of the cottage where Ronaldo stood in the center of a carriage, but not just any carriage. An elegant black landau trimmed with gold leaf sat at the curb. There were two footmen in Regal Sol uniforms sitting behind the passenger area. A team of two handsome black horses waited anxiously, pawing the ground while a postilion rode the near wheel horse to control them.
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