by Bobbi Smith
"I know," Philip sympathized. "But maybe you'll find something out Saturday night at the Randolphs' party. The Delacroix family is going to be there."
"I hope so," Clay responded, but he was less than optimistic about his chances. Things had been going so badly for him ever since he'd first started looking for the girl that he was becoming convinced that his luck in resolving this matter was not going to change.
"I'm just sorry that I'm not better acquainted with the Delacroixs. It certainly would have made things a lot easier for you if we had been friendly enough so you could have paid them an unexpected social call. As it is, I've only met them a few times through the years, and those encounters were at large festivities much like the Randolphs' party is going to be. It's really a stroke of luck that they'll be there. Maybe things are finally going to start going your way."
"Maybe," Clay said doubtfully, "but I'm beginning to question her father's idea that she might have come here in the first place. It's kind of hard for me to believe that a young woman of her class and position, someone who's been cosseted and protected all her life, would be capable of traveling across the continent all by herself'
"I understand why you're having doubts, but I wouldn't underestimate the Alvarez girl if I were you," Philip advised sagely. "Desperation can sometimes force people to do things they wouldn't ordinarily do."
"Desperation," Clay gave an arrogant, deriding laugh. "She doesn't know the meaning of the word."
Philip heard the bitterness in his tone and frowned at his lack of compassion. "Don't be too sure about that. You've only heard one side of the story."
"I've heard enough to know that Reina Alvarez is a spoiled, manipulative young woman. She'll do anything she has to to get her own way, and she doesn't care who gets hurt in the process," he answered condemningly and then downed the rest of his drink in one fierce swallow.
"And you also know from your own experience that her father is a bastard who will do whatever is necessary to achieve his own ends," he pointed out with maddening logic. "I'd say the girl was well taught."
It surprised Clay to find his father almost defending the girl's actions, find his eyes hardened to silver as he glanced up at him. "Women are all naturally conniving and self-centered. No one had to teach her," he sneered, refusing to believe that Reina Alvarez might have had a very good reason for running away.
"Not all women are like your mother, Clay," Philip chided gently, his expression growing troubled at the bitterness he heard in his son's voice.
Thoughts of the gentle, devoted Sister Mary Regina stirred within him at his father's declaration, but he pushed them away. He wouldn't sully the very special memories he had of her by including her in his overall assessment of the opposite sex.
"You're awfully forgiving considering what she did to you," he countered.
Father and son had never really talked openly about that terrible time in their lives, for it had been much too painful for them. Philip knew that Clay had been deeply hurt by Evaline's betrayal, but he was shocked now to find that it had left such deep, lasting emotional scars on him. He had hoped that during Clay's time away he might have come to grips with the demon of her treachery. It troubled him to find that he hadn't.
"That's all in the past, son. What happened with your mother.. .well, that's one thing. Your dealings with this Alvarez girl are something else."
"Maybe, but first I have to find her before I can start worrying about how I'm going to deal with her." Clay shrugged off his subtle counsel as he got up to refill his glass. He knew better than to trust any woman.
"You will." Philip said with confidence.
"I hope you're right. Dev's life is riding on this, and if I've missed her again..."
"Again?"
"I thought I knew exactly where she was when I first left Monterey, but I was wrong." He went on to tell his father all about how he followed the wrong stage and what had happened when he'd caught up with it. "I wasted three days."
"They were hardly wasted days, Clay. You saved the lives of all those innocent people."
"I may have saved them, but I haven't done a damn thing to help Dev."
Philip moved behind him to clamp a warm hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, son. Everything will work out. You always accomplish everything you set out to do."
Clay took a stout drink of the potent liquor. His father might have unwavering faith in him, but he was filled with his own self-doubts. He could remember all too clearly the time when he had failed, and failed miserably! The similarities between his mother and Reina Alvarez grated on him unmercifully, and as the days went by, his motivation for finding the Alvarez girl and taking her back home to her father was becoming much more personal in nature.
"You're right," Clay replied, just wanting to end the discussion. "It's just a matter of time. Reina Alvarez is bound to show up soon..."
Emilie Delacroix, a short, fair-haired young woman, blinked in surprise as a nun answered her knock at the hotel room door. "I'm sorry, Sister," she apologized hastily. "The desk clerk must have given me the wrong room number..."
When she started to turn away, Reina reached out and grabbed her by her arm. "Emilie! Wait! It's me!" she exclaimed, delighted to see her old friend.
"Reina?" Emilie stared at her in astonishment. "Good heavens, it is you..."she muttered in disbelief as she allowed herself to be dragged into the room.
"Yes, it most certainly is me" Reina teased, enjoying her discomfort. Obviously, her disguise was perfect if even Emilie hadn't recognized her.
Emilie was in shock at finding her friend dressed in the flowing white garb and long black veil of a professed sister. Stunned, she remained speechless as she watched Reina close the door.
Never in her whole life would Emilie have dreamed that Reina would enter a convent. Just the idea of it seemed totally at odds with Reina's basic personality. When they'd attended school together, Reina had been the flamboyant, outgoing one. She'd always been the center of attention, and she'd loved it. She was beautiful, rich, and immensely popular. The idea that Reina had given all that up and taken holy, solemn vows left Emilie perplexed. She wondered what had happened in the few years they'd been apart to change her so completely.
"Reina, you never told me..." Emilie began, stammering a little in her puzzlement.
For the first time since she'd left Monterey Reina laughed with easy good-humor. "I didn't have time to tell you, Emilie," she started to explain.
"What do you mean, you didn't have time?" Emilie frowned in confusion, puzzled by Reina's whole attitude. She knew nuns spent at least a full year as a novice in the convent before taking their final vows. Surely Reina could have contacted her some time during all those months.
Reina laughed again, feeling very light of spirit now that she considered herself safe. "Emilie, I'm not a nun."
"`You're not a nun'?" Emilie repeated, her surprise growing deeper.
"I mean this is all an elaborate disguise," she confided.
"A disguise? Why do you need a disguise?" Now Emilie was truly baffled. "And where's your father? Didn't he come with you?" she added cautiously as she began to get the feeling that something very strange was going on here.
"No, he didn't come with me. As far as I know, he's still in California," Reina replied tersely. When she saw her friend's concerned expression, she became more subdued, and her ready smile turned sad. "Sit down on the bed, I've got a lot to tell you"
"I'll just bet you do," Emilie agreed. "I was so excited when I got your note yesterday that you were in town. Mama assumed your father had come with you, and she insisted that I invite both of you to come stay with us for as long as you want."
"I was praying you'd offer," she answered with a teasing grin.
"Of course, we'd offer!"
"I just hope that my being here by myself won't change your mother's mind."
"Don't worry, Reina, if anything, she'll be even more convinced that you should stay with us. But, tell me, wha
t is going on?"
Reina took off the veil as she sat down on the bed next to Emilie. She pulled the pins from her hair and, with a toss of her head, shook her heavy, ebony tresses loose from their confinement. The satiny mane tumbled about her shoulders in curling disarray.
Reina took a deep, steadying breath and then began to explain everything to Emilie. She told her about her father's betrayal in promising her in marriage to a man she couldn't stand and about his cold-bloodedness in hiring the bounty hunter to track her down and bring her back.
Reina did not call Cordell by name out of the fear that by just mentioning him she might somehow conjure him up. It was bad enough that thoughts of the handsome but dangerous gunman haunted her constantly, even in her sleep. She certainly didn't want to talk about him any more than necessary.
"I don't believe any of this..."
"I know," Reina groaned. "For a while there, things couldn't have gotten much more complicated."
"III bet you were scared to death."
"I was. I didn't relax until he had finally gone, but even then, just knowing that my father was that determined and that desperate..."
"Where do you think the bounty hunter went after he left you there at the waystation?"
"I don't know, and I don't care, as long as it's in the opposite direction from me!" Reina declared vehemently.
"I can well imagine, but now that you made it this far, just what do you intend to do next?"
Reina had been struggling with the very same thought. All of the plans she'd made to escape the fate her father had in store for her had ended with her making it safely to Emilie's. She lifted her dark-eyed gaze to her friend's. The uncertainty she was feeling was clearly mirrored there.
"I don't really know..." she admitted slowly. "I thought my running away would make my father change his mind. I was hoping that he cared enough about me to come after me himself and that he would tell me that he wasn't going to force me to marry Nathan. But now..."
"Do you think he'll suspect that you came here to me?"
"I don't know. Father knows what close friends we are, but I'm not sure whether he thinks I'd be daring enough to make the trip alone. I tried to encourage the bounty hunter to talk about where he was going next, but he wouldn't say a word."
"What do you want to do, Reina? You know you can stay here with me for as long as you want."
Reina took her hand and squeezed it warmly. "Thanks, Emilie."
"You're more than welcome. I know you'd help me if I needed it."
"I would," Reina affirmed. "There's just one thing more I wanted to ask of you though..."
"What?"
"I was wondering if you'd mind if I went by another name whenever we're out in public."
"You think you should keep your identity a secret?"
Reina nodded. "I don't think my father's going to give up too easily. He just might send somebody back here to check, and if he does, they'll be searching for Reina Alvarez. If I go by the name Isabel Nunez, no one will suspect, and we won't really be lying to anyone. Isabel is my middle name and Nunez was my mother's maiden name."
"All right, Isabel," Emilie said with a conspiratorial grin, amazed to find herself caught up in such intrigue. "But are you going to stay dressed as a nun or did you bring some other clothes with you?"
"There was no time to pack anything..." she apologized.
Emilie knew then that they had to do some shopping before she could take her friend home. Her mother was a very strict Catholic and would not approve of Reina's disguise. Emilie started for the door. "You wait here until I get back."
"Where are you going?"
She paused. "I know it's getting late, but I'm going to run out and see if I can find an outfit for you. We'll spend the night here, do more shopping for essentials in the morning, then head home in the afternoon."
"Your mother won't worry?"
"No, my brother, Richard, came with me so I'm well-chaperoned. Besides, I told her when we left that we might have to stay the night in town."
"Emilie... wait..." Reina quickly dug through her one small valise and pulled out all the money she'd brought with her. "Here, take this." She pressed a goodly amount into her hand.
"Are you sure you can afford this?"
"I didn't have time to worry about packing clothes, but I did bring plenty of money."
"I'll be back as soon as I can" Emilie promised. "And don't worry. Your father will come around. Everything's going to be just fine. You'll see."
They hugged in a warm, spontaneous gesture.
"I hope so, Emilie," she answered. As the door closed behind her, Reina repeated, feeling strangely disquieted, "I really, truly hope so."
The ethereal woman hovered before Clay in the misty semidarkness. Though she was completely clothed in some unfamiliar, loose, flowing garment, there was something seductively arousing about her. Lithe arms raised to him, beckoning him ever closer.
Clay wanted to go to her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted more than anything to press his lips to hers and seek out the sweet ecstasy he knew would be found in her embrace. For some unknown reason, though, Clay couldn 't move or speak. Restrained by an unseen force, he could only look on, desperately wanting, but never having.
The woman called his name, and the sound of her voice, so soft and enthralling echoed enticingly around Clay, increasing his already fervent ardor. She sounded so familiar to him, and yet...
Clay struggled to break free from the invisible bonds that held him, all the while feverishly searching his memory for some clue as to his mystery temptress 's name. He knew if'he could only call her name, she would come to him. His muscles strained and sweat beaded his brow as he fought against the power that held him immobile. His effort was herculean, but ultimately in vain as she began to move away from him. Her arms were still reaching out for him, and she was still calling to him, but he was helpless to respond. Caught... trapped ... Clay could do no more than watch in mute despair as she was taken from him...
The force of the emotions that wracked him in the dream jarred Clay from a sound sleep. Sweat-soaked and breathing raggedly, Clay sat up abruptly in his bed. He stared off into the surrounding darkness, trying to make sense of the chaotic, dream-inspired images that were churning in his mind. Tense but weary, he rubbed a hand over his eyes in an effort to help clear his thoughts, then he swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and sat there for a long quiet moment in the night-shrouded room.
The unknown woman in his dream seemed very real to Clay, but he could put no name to her. She was elusive in his thoughts, teasing the corners of his consciousness with her exciting presence, yet leaving him frustrated in his pursuit of her identity. Clay tried to dismiss his dream temptress as a figment of his imagination for he could not remember ever feeling that strongly about any woman. But as he sat there in the dark, his defenses down, he let his thoughts run wild. The memory of Sister Mary Regina and the night at the way station came to him. The erotic image of her brushing out her hair as she sat before the fire, surged powerfully through Clay. Just recalling that night aroused him, and with a growl he got up from the bed and pulled on his pants.
Like a caged animal, Clay paced his room. After a restless moment, he paused by the window and brushed back one heavy velvet drape to stare out across the soothing beauty of the moonlit countryside. It troubled him deeply to think that he was perverted enough to dream of Sister Mary Regina as a seductress. He raked a hand nervously through his sleeptousled hair as he considered this flaw in his character. The sister was the only truly good woman he'd met in his life, and Clay did not want to dwell on that incredibly sensual yet completely innocent encounter. Hell, he berated himself angrily, Sister Mary Regina hadn 't been aware of any of it. She was a chaste woman of unimpeachable virtue, and he knew he did her a disservice by even thinking about that night and how beautiful she'd looked...
Clay was a man used to being in control, and it annoyed him that he couldn't completely put Sister
Mary Regina out of his mind. Sometimes, he wondered if he ever would. Clay acknowledged that their paths would never cross again, and he found the thought oddly disturbing, although he wasn't sure just why. Too tense to even think about trying to sleep again, he turned away from the window and left the room.
Seventeen-year-old, auburn-haired Molly Magee smiled tenderly as she gazed down at her little brother, "Well, Jimmy, do you think you can take care of Ma while I'm gone to work?"
"Of course I can, Molly," the red-haired, frecklefaced eight-year-old declared with fierce pride. "You can trust me."
Though Molly didn't like Jimmy missing school and she had her reservations about leaving him alone with their sick mother, she knew she had no other choice in the matter. She had to go to work. Her job at the Golden Kettle Restaurant was their only source of income right now, and the owner, a big-bodied, mean-spirited woman named Bertha Harvey, wouldn't hesitate to fire her if she dared to miss a day. Molly reached out to give him a loving hug.
"You're a good boy, Jimmy Magee," she told him, ruffling his hair affectionately when she let him go. "Listen, I'm late already, but I promise you I'll be back just as quick as I can."
"I hope Mrs. Harvey doesn't make you stay extra late."
"So do I, sweetie," Molly agreed.
"What should I do for Ma when she wakes up, Molly?"
"Make sure she gets lots to drink and anything else she wants, all right?"
"I'll make sure," he promised.
Molly crossed the room to stand by the small bed where their mother was resting fitfully. Life had not been kind to Eileen Magee. She'd been married and had had Molly by the time she was sixteen. The year after Jimmy had been born, she had followed her husband to the gold fields only to have him get himself shot and killed in a card game shortly after they'd arrived. She had been on her own ever since, making money any way she could to support herself and her two children. It hadn't been easy, especially since she'd refused the easy money to be made through prostitution. Eileen had wanted an honorable way of life, and though she had achieved at least that much, it was that very honorable, hardworking lifestyle that had left her exhausted and too weak to fight off her illness.