The Cazalet Bride

by Violet Winsper

  Ricki made for the stream and knelt down to wash the dust from her face and arms. A scum of dust floated on the water, but she was feeling too dry to be fussy and she drank several handfuls.

  Feeling a little cooler and less parched, she stood up and took stock of her situation. The arrival at the ranch of her riderless horse would have caused concern, and by now Don Enrique would have his men out looking for her. In view of that, it would probably be wiser of her to remain here than attempt to find her own way back to the ranch. The plains stretched around her like a desert, and with dusk coming on she was very hesitant to leave her rocky haven. She gave a little shiver. The fierce, living tones of the plains were lost in growing shadows, while the only sign of life was the dark winging overhead of a hawk. It circled, dipped, then suddenly flew out of sight, leaving Ricki feeling more alone than before.

  She thought of the goat she had helped release and wondered if the flock and its shepherd could be anywhere in the vicinity. Though more than likely the animal had got trapped hours ago, even yesterday, when the flock had passed this Way. There wasn't the faintest sound of neck-bells, only a growing creak of cicadas and an occasional honk of a frog near the stream.

  Darkness was spreading and there was a coolness in the air now the hazy red sun was slipping lower in the west Ricki glanced at her wristwatch, but the dust had clogged the hands and she could only guess that it was some time past six o'clock. What should she do ? Chance finding the way back to the ranch, or stay here in the hope of spotting Don Enrique's men from a vantage point? She could light a fire of dried shrub! The paqueros would be bound to see a fire from here, and it would help keep out the chill night air.

  Ricki dug into the pocket of her riding skirt and brought out several odds and ends, including a tube of fruit gums, a lipstick, and a small box of wax matches which she had confiscated from Jaime the other day and absently put in her pocket. Her smile was thoughtful as she gazed at the Spanish castle depicted on the box. She had quite for­gotten she had them until now. Jaime had said he wanted the picture of the castle; she must remember to let him have it.

  After collecting several fairly large stones, she arranged them in a rough circle and filled it in with dried shrub. She wouldn't light her beacon until it grew cold, for the dry shrub would soon burn out and her small stock pile not last long.

  The little twilight of the south had given way to night and stars were beginning to glow in the sky. There was a breeze blowing gt; and Ricki found herself searching the heavens for a glimpse of that solitary dark hawk. But he had gone. She was all alone and quite lost.

  She bore the increasing coldness for as long as possible, then struck several of the little wax matches and set them among the brush of her fire. Cheery flames leapt at once and dispelled the darkness and Ricki knelt on the turf and held her hands to the warmth. It was amazing that only a couple of hours ago she had been stifling in the heat and dust of the solano, now her thin white shirt gave her hardly any protection from the cold. She sucked another fruit gum and as the fire burned down to a red glimmer, she sank back on the turf and looped her arms about her knees.

  The darkness is an ally of restless thoughts, and it is only natural for a girl alone, and a little afraid, to think of happier times. That journey to the ranch in Don Arturo's car had been a lighthearted one, and Rickir smiled wistfully at the memory of being accepted by him as a friend rather than an employee. There sprang vividly to her mind the moment when he had turned to ask Jaime and herself if they would like to lunch at the old farm. In that moment his eyes had not been inscrutable. She had seen them brilliant with love . for Conquesta's child.

  Ricki let her glance wander the plains all around her. Sierra de luna, she thought, with that ragged fringe of mountains shutting out the stars. And those odd-shaped prickly-pears, looking in the shifting darkness just like the weird plant-life of science fiction.

  She renewed her fire with a couple of handfuls of shrub and was grateful for the cheery crackle and flare that died all too soon. It must now be very late. Once or twice in the distance she heard the howl of a dog. It wasn't a friendly sound and she knew it could be a sheepdog that had turned wild and was night-stalking. Her skin crawled at the thought of confronting a big, rough dog bristling with teeth and temper, and she made up the fire again. She sat very still, listening to every sound with her heart pound­ing, but the howling gradually died away and now the wind seemed to be sighing something. She strained to catch it, almost heard it, a name, and then all was still again.

  She drowsed, her head nodding forward on to the hillock of her knees and then, not in a dream but in reality, a deep and unmistakable voice called her name. 'Veronica Veronica!'

  Her name rang out over the plains, and she was on her feet, standing slenderly outlined by the leaping flames of her last handful of brush as a horse rode out of the night into the play of firelight and she saw clearly who the rider was.

  For long seconds she stood looking down into eyes fierce as a hawk's, then he gentled his mount and slid from the saddle. The nostrils of the horse flared and huffed it had been hard ridden.

  Ricki stood unmoving as Don Arturo tethered the horse, then came bounding with long strides up the rocky slope to where she awaited him. She could feel the fright­ened race of her heart. She had seen the storm-lights in his eyes and knew he was angry with her for causing con­cern and anxiety to those at the ranch.

  'You might well look at me with apprehensive eyes.' His voice was velvet wrapped around steel. 'Did you choose on purpose to ride out in the solano because you knew I was coming today to the ranch?'

  'I -I didn't know you were coming - nobody told me ' Her voice shook, for it hurt that he could not show her any kindness after her ordeal of being lost in the dust storm, and being stranded here on the plains for several lonely hours.

  'Don Enrique did not tell you I was coming to spend the week-end for his birthday party?' Arturo's eyes had lost some of their glitter. 'I thought - but no matter!'

  He came a sudden step closer and caught her cold hands in his lean, warm hands. ' Chica, you are cold as a small frog! You must at once wear my coat.' He whipped it off, a rough-sheepskin coat probably borrowed from Don Enrique, and briskly helped her into its enveloping warmth. 'Was it practical, little one, to ride out with a solano blowing?' he murmured, his knuckles warm.at her throat as he buttoned the coat. 'Whatever induced you to do such a thing? When your horse returned riderless to the ranch there was much concern. Several of the vaqueros rode out with me to search for you about ten minutes ago I thought I saw the flickering of a fire and said I would ride in this direction to see whether it was a fire you had lit, or one belonging to a hill shepherd.'

  'I - I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble.' Ricki huddled into the sheepskin coat and felt like weeping. 'I was resting here after my ride - there was a goat caught by its hoof in a sun-crack. I had to help the poor thing, and while I was carrying water to the groove to make it muddy and easier for the goat to get free, my horse slipped his tether '

  'So you were being the Good Samaritan again?' An oddly tender note had come into Arturo's voice, and when Ricki raised her eyes to his face, she caught her breath at the look in his eyes. Their gravity was lit by a burning, tender hunger, and the sternness was gone from his mouth and beside it pulsed a nerve against which - the awareness was shattering -she wanted to press her lips.

  For a moment she was without breath, emotion tore through her, breaking down every barrier she had built against him .. love rushed in like a great tide, and she had to turn away from him in case it was only a fondness he felt for her and he read in her eyes the storm of longing that was surging in her heart.

  She felt his hands close hard on her shoulders, holding her with her back to him.

  'What is the matter,' his voice was amused yet rough, 'are you afraid of me since I asked you to become my bettisima esposa?'

  'I'm not beautiful, Arturo,' she replied shakily.

  'You have the b
eauty that shines out of a truly kind and generous and spirited heart, Veronica.' His voice had deepened, his hands tightened. 'If you fight me now, mi vida, then I shall not be responsible for what I do.'

  Mi vida- my life!

  She could not believe she had heard him say it, yet -yet now he was turning her to face him, drawing her against him with such exciting deliberation. 'Why did you insist that you could never marry me?' he demanded.

  'I thought you loved Conquesta still - and could never love me,' she whispered, knowing now beyond any doubt that it was the truth. 'I could not accept marriage with­out love, Arturo.'

  'And I thought that once you came to trust me, you would grow to love me.' His dark eyes were searching hers. 'Dare I believe, amiga, that you loved me and would not have been afraid had I declared my feelings?'

  'I should not have been afraid, Arturo.' She pressed her cheek against his heart and there was no fear in her, only a great and wondering thankfulness and tenderness. If she could have the future with him, she would not be­grudge the past that belonged to Conquesta.

  Now, so close were they in spirit that it was inevitable he guess what was passing through her mind. He led her to a boulder near the fire and they sat down side by side, her left hand held fast in his. 'Everything must be made clear between us, chiquitita,' he said quietly. 'All the shadows must be dispelled for always.'

  He paused, and she waited, her eyes on his fierce, fine profile in the glow of the fire. Her fingers twined among his and gripped, encouraging him to go on, assuring him she was not afraid any more.

  'With regard to Conquesta,' he drew a deep breath, 'I was a fraud! She came to realize that I was marrying her just to please my father - and this was true! My father was a sick man and he had set his heart on the match. How could I hurt him? And though my heart was not excited by the thought of marriage with Conquesta, I resolved to go through with it. But she knew. Instinct told her that I only played a game of love.'

  He sighed, and then put an arm around Ricki and drew her close to his side as though the loving young feel of her helped him to go on.

  'Conquesta was very beautiful. It should have been easy to love her, but love is a mysterious force over which we have little control. We quarrelled one evening in the little house of shells. She accused me of coldness towards her. She said she would do something desperate - but I did not believe she would go as far as to elope with Leandro. .

  'My father, unfortunately, was the first to find the note she left. He had a second stroke and he died. That was the fountain heart of my bitterness, that women do not fight face to face in these matters. I had hurt Conquesta by being unable to love her in the infatuated, beauty-struck way of other men, so she chose Leandro as the weapon with which to overthrow my pride. Everyone would think - and they did - that she had left me high and dry. She had her revenge, but she never took into account what her folly would do to my father, and eventually to Leandro.'

  Arturo sat very still for long moments. The fire had died to ashes, and the stars were very low in the velvety southern sky.

  'There's no need to say any more, Arturo,' Ricki whispered.

  'Isn't there, my love ?'

  'Not ever,' she assured him, for she knew, as he diqV that Leandro had known the brakes of his brother's car were faulty when he had taken his wife and his son for that fateful drive. Loving Conquesta, he had been unable to face the fact that she did not love him.

  Love, how strong indeed were its forces.

  Ricki and Arturo sat quiet for several minutes, then she felt the tightening of his arm and turned to look up at him. The force of his, love for her was there in his eyes for her to see, a flame that burned and beckoned, a glow that held a hint of tears. She felt his arms gradually enclosing her, and she went close to his chest and was locked there, against his heart - for always.

  'Well, my darling Veronica,' he murmured. 'What of, that career now?'

  'Blow my career.' Her arms stole up about his neck. 'I'd sooner be your dear, dominated wife.'

  'It is not I who dominates you.' He laughed softly at the idea. 'It is love that dominates both of us.'

  'Really, Arturo? Even when you seemed so distant -and cold?'

  'If I had shown the warmth of my feelings you would have run away from me.' He laughed softly and kissed her eyes. 'Like everyone else you thought me a devil, eh? You believed the whispers, the innuendoes.'

  'Only for a while.' She could have wept for ever doubting him. 'Arturo, there will be no more whispers. I shall love you so much, and show the world how I love you, and everyone will say that only a saint could be so adored.'

  'Ricki,' he smiled down rather wickedly into her eyes, 'I am but a man, and a rather impatient one. We will announce our intention to marry at the party tomorrow night, and Jaime can stay with his grandfather while we

  take our honeymoon. Where would you like to spend it, eh?'

  She thought of Ireland, and the heather lands, and knew she must show him the places of her childhood before they settled down to life together in the valley. She whispered that he take her there, and she thrilled as never before when he sealed his promise with a kiss that held love and longing and all the pent-up passion of a man who had suffered and was now hers to heal.

  The night enclosed them and the stars seemed to smile in the Spanish sky.