After a moment, Matias reached for a cluster of grapes and commented on the many varieties that were cultivated in the region.
He’d evaded her personal questions but this time she didn’t want to talk about the subject of marriage either, and the change of topic was welcome.
They spent the next half hour eating and discussing the benefits of locally sourced food, and when they were done they packed the leftovers in the basket.
Matias drove back to the main road, and they left the car parked in the narrow shade of a high wall at the foothills of the village.
“Tell me about this place,” Vanessa asked Matias as they hiked to one of the arched entrances. “What’s it called?”
“Castelo Rodrigo. It’s an official stop on the route of historical Portuguese villages because of its significance to the region and importance in the defense against the invasion of Moors and Spaniards.” He stopped and pointed at a row of blue and white tiles depicting the main buildings in the village.
Up here the air smelled of sweet honey and almonds, a local treat curiously advertised on the backs of life-size cutouts of donkeys. Vanessa and Matias pondered its meaning but let it go when every plausible explanation failed.
They strolled the narrow cobbled streets, the houses and buildings made of the same dark-yellow stones as the irregular ones paving the ground. Matias pointed out details of a distant past: a Jewish inscription on the lintel stone over a door, a millstone embedded in a house façade, a medieval cistern that saved rainwater for times when the village lay under siege. He told her a few of the facts and stories, and even a legend that made her smile.
Terra-cotta pots adorned windows and doors with bright flowers and native shrubs, and Matias greeted the few locals they passed, often engaging with them for a few moments while Vanessa mangled a Portuguese word or two she’d learned since arriving in the country. It was such a hard language.
Vanessa watched the expression on Matias’s face as he talked; she listened to his calm, deep voice, and a feeling unfamiliar to her nestled in her chest and warmed her heart. How could a place she’d never visited before bring such contentment?
Everywhere she walked, the weight of the past was visible in its effect on the present.
“The past is alive here,” she said as they watched the view of the valley below from the highest point on the castle ruins.
“The past is alive everywhere, only more evident here.” Matias replied. “It’s hard to hide the mistakes of men when even the rocks stand as a testament to their actions.” He stepped forward to the window opening of an exterior wall in ruins. “But people still ignore it and end up making the same mistakes, don’t they? That’s why it’s important we learn as much we can from the generation before us, even when we don’t agree with them.”
He climbed a set of steps to the roofless interior court, and Vanessa stayed behind. She was one of those people ignoring the past, unwilling as she was to talk to her grandparents. Would she come to regret it? Would she look back one day and wish she’d learned everything she could from them before she no longer had the chance?
“Vanessa, come see.” Matias called her to the opposite side.
A family with two teenage boys approached the window where she stood, and Vanessa walked over to Matias.
He gestured to the field. “Look, that’s the olive tree where we had the picnic.”
It barely looked the same from up here, but she’d want to remember it and the time they’d had together for lunch.
She drew her phone out of her pocket and held it up for a picture.
“Here, let me,” he offered, stepping closer.
Vanessa handed him the phone and smiled for the camera.
The father of the family approached and said something in Portuguese to Matias. Matias looked to the guy and then to her. He smiled and replied with a nod, handing him the phone. He walked to Vanessa and stood next to her.
The guy shook his head and said something else at which Matias replied with a laugh. He nodded at the guy, looked at her, then brought his arm around her shoulder in a side hug.
“Say cheese, Vanessa,” he whispered close to her ear, a wide smile on his face.
Vanessa stilled. Whether she smiled or not, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was the feeling of Matias’s warm body next to hers, the shiver it sent down her arm, the warmth that pooled in her middle in a wave of fluttering sensations. This close, his masculine scent was stronger. She turned to look at Matias, and when he met her eyes, her breath caught at the softness she found there.
The guy stepped forward to return the phone, and Matias squeezed her shoulder before letting go of her. They exchanged a few more words, then Matias said goodbye as the man went after his family.
Matias looked at the screen. “That’s a keeper.”
“What did he say?” Vanessa took the phone back. “What did he say before he took the picture?”
Matias rubbed a hand along his jawline, a crooked smile at the corner of his mouth. “He asked if my girlfriend was mad at me since we were not standing together. When I said no, he told me to get closer to you.” He shrugged. “I figured it was easier to do it than explain you’re not my girlfriend. Sorry,” he added after a short pause.
Vanessa stared at him. “You don’t look very sorry to me.” He didn’t look sorry at all.
“You’re right.” He nodded. “I’m not sorry.” He winked at her.
Maybe she wasn’t either.
Matias grabbed a can of soda from the ice-filled metal tub and popped the tab. He took a long drink as he gazed around at the sun deck from his vantage point by the bridge. In the pre-dusk light, the ship shone brightly with the string lights that had been added to the existing flood lights as decoration for the barbecue.
Chef Teresa and her assistants worked at the two grills that had been brought up from shore for the occasion, one for the meats and the other for fish. Tables had been lined up along the port side and a buffet lain out where the passengers could fill their plates while enjoying the live band playing traditional music under the canopy. The light chatter, smiling faces, and laughter were all the signs Matias needed to know everything was going well tonight.
Since the start of the party, his gaze had followed Vanessa. In between making small talk with the passengers and checking in with the crew, Matias looked for her among the others. Not so overtly as to draw attention to himself, but enough to know her whereabouts on deck. Did his behavior border on stalkerish? He had told her grandfather he’d keep an eye on her, but maybe he didn’t need to be so attentive tonight. They were on board, after all, surrounded by passengers he knew well enough and crew he could vouch for. But try as he might, Matias found himself turning his attention to her every few minutes, his eyes gravitating to hers, his pulse racing when he caught her looking at him. The need to exchange words didn’t even cross his mind at those moments. Just knowing she was there was enough.
After such a dismal trip yesterday, their outing to Castelo Rodrigo today had been perfect. He would have stayed there all day and evening if given the chance, talking to her and watching her reactions to the places and history they’d come across while exploring the village.
How was he going to stop himself from comparing this trip to all the others that came after? And did he even want to?
Enough thinking about Vanessa. He should be out there mingling with the passengers. Matias threw the empty soda can in the garbage, and as he walked by a small group of passengers, Mrs. Whitehead called him over. She sat nearby with her husband and the Smiths, who’d been on the cruise before.
He greeted them. “How are you doing, Mrs. Whitehead? Enjoying yourself?”
She nodded. “I was just telling Mrs. Smith what a great party this is.”
“I think you and your crew outdid yourselves this year, Captain,” Mrs. Smith said. “Everything is outstanding. And the trip to Castelo Rodrigo today was excellent. We enjoyed it so much.”
Matias smiled
. “Thank you. I’ll pass your compliments along to Miss Rialto and her assistants.” He didn’t have much to do with the planning of the excursions ashore and entertainment aboard, but it was always nice to know that the passengers were happy with both.
A collective gasp drew his attention, and Matias turned around. Past the swimming pool, near the stern of the ship, a group of passengers congregated by the railing on the port side. Just as he tried to assess what was going on, the band stopped playing. More gasps and exclamations had several others who stood closer running to the same spot. He took off in the same direction.
A woman’s voice yelled “Now!”
When Matias arrived, the passengers parted to let him through. In the center, Mrs. Grantham lay in a chaise lounge, eyes closed, skin pale, her breathing labored and shallow. Her husband knelt by her on one side of the chair, and Vanessa knelt by the other, holding a glass of what looked like orange juice and cradling the lady’s neck.
“What’s going on?” Matias went down on one knee next to Vanessa.
“Hypoglycemic shock.” She kept her eyes on Mrs. Grantham and spoke to her in a soft voice. “Come on, Agnes, little sips.”
Some of the juice dribbled down a corner of the Mrs. Grantham’s mouth, and her husband wiped it with a handkerchief. Vanessa lifted the glass again and repeated the process.
Matias reached for his phone and called Afonso to the deck, then he asked the passengers to clear the area. The band resumed its playing, this time with a calmer tune. Jaime was already on the walkie-talkie, and within a minute Afonso arrived with the emergency response kit.
Vanessa turned to look at them both, a look of surprise in her expression. “What’s he doing here?” She tipped her chin toward Afonso. “Isn’t he the pianist?”
“He’s also the emergency response specialist. Let him see what he needs, Vanessa.”
Mrs. Grantham opened her eyes slowly even though her color was still pale.
Vanessa stepped aside to make room for Afonso. “You’ll be okay, Agnes. Just sit here and drink a little more of the orange juice.”
When Pedro approached him, Matias asked him to bring the emergency stair chair for transport in preparation for the paramedics. Afonso had taken over the emergency response box and had placed the oxygen mask over Mrs. Grantham’s face while listening to the lady’s heartbeat with the stethoscope. Vanessa knelt to the side in case he needed assistance. Her earlier actions and response were sure and affirmative, like those of someone with knowledge and authority. What kind of training did she have? She hadn’t mentioned anything but the way she talked and acted belied an assurance that went beyond casual interest.
The paramedics arrived and soon had Mrs. Grantham safely removed from the sun deck. Vanessa followed them to the back of the ambulance, offering any support she could to Mr. Grantham. Matias sent a junior crew member, one of the youngest girls, to help assist with translation when the Granthams arrived at the local hospital.
As he stood by the railing, Anabela Rialto returned from talking to the head paramedic just before the ambulance left.
“He said they’ll probably keep her in observation for the night,” she said.
“Did you see what happened?” Matias asked.
She nodded. “It happened so fast. Miss Clark was talking to the Granthams and the Olivettis near the prow, and suddenly she took Mrs. Grantham by the arm to sit on a lounger. By then you could tell Mrs. Grantham was definitely not feeling well. She was shaking and very pale. At that point, Miss Clark asked for orange juice. Well, actually, she yelled for it.”
“I did hear that,” Matias said. It had been the urgent tone in Vanessa’s voice that alerted him to something out of the ordinary going on.
“Mr. Grantham said his wife has been having blood sugar problems.” Miss Rialto continued. “I’m glad Miss Clark was with her and knew what to do. It could have turned out so much worse.”
They hadn’t had an emergency aboard in quite some time. Protocol demanded rigorous preparation for any sort of eventuality. During the low season, the entire crew received specialty training, but what could have been done to help Mrs. Grantham in such a case? He needed the whole story from Vanessa.
The mood had mellowed on the sun deck. There was still eating and drinking and dancing, but some of the passengers huddled in smaller groups talking among themselves with obvious concern in their expressions. Some pulled Vanessa aside when she came up the stairs, but she didn’t stay behind to answer their questions. She looked around the deck until she met his eyes, and Matias excused himself to make his way in her direction.
“Come on, let’s go somewhere we can talk,” he said when he reached her.
“I was just about to say the same.” She leaned in his direction and Matias placed a hand on her back as he led her down, unable to keep his distance from her.
The sooner they could get away from the barbecue and the curious stares of passengers and crew, the better.
*
Vanessa walked beside Matias until they reached the end of the hallway on the upper deck. He’d placed his hand on her lower back before descending the stairs and the warmth of his fingers persisted, if only a vestige. Every time they met, she wished for more closeness between them and this unexpected reaction confused her. She hadn’t come on the cruise to meet a guy, but after the fun day she’d had ashore with Matias, the preoccupation with Grandfather’s plans for her had lost its urgency.
But now was not the time to think about her outings with Matias. A passenger had suffered an emergency and he, as the ship’s captain, wanted to know what happened. That was the only reason he wanted to see her in private. She was the one thinking of double meanings where there were none.
He opened the sliding doors, and they stepped onto the rear balcony. Here, away from the party and noise and crowd, the night was calm and the moment almost intimate. Vanessa gave herself another mental shake and stepped away from him. He wanted a report—nothing more.
Matias leaned forward on the railing and rested his forearms. “I’ve been trying to piece together what happened, but it looks like I need to thank you for your quick response.”
Across the river, on the other bank, the village lights twinkled in the darkness, and Vanessa kept her focus on them. “It happened fast. I think it was more one of those moments when someone is at the right place and at the right time.”
“I’m guessing you have some kind of training.” His tone was half question, half declaration, as if he already knew the answer.
“I work a second job as an EMT,” she confirmed. “Usually I join the rig on weekends and some holidays. I’m what they call a floater to cover other responders’ shifts.” She might as well keep busy with something worthwhile. Idleness never was happiness, as Dad used to say.
Matias stepped away from the railing and turned to her. “So during the week you’re an IT specialist, and on weekends you’re an EMT?”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Is that so hard to believe?”
Matias held a hand up. “Of course not. Not at all.” He opened his mouth as if to say something else but then paused a few moments. “Tell me about Mrs. Grantham. How did you know she was in trouble?”
“While we were talking, I noticed she started sweating along her hairline, her hands were shaking and she turned pale. The symptoms came on suddenly, and I insisted she sit down before she lost consciousness. Then I asked someone for orange juice so we could get her blood sugar up a little.”
“Miss Rialto said it could have been much worse if it hadn’t been for your quick intervention.”
“A hypoglycemic shock is serious. Hopefully she can return aboard tomorrow morning.” Vanessa hadn’t helped for the attention or to receive thanks. Her training had kicked in when she recognized the symptoms, and she was just glad she’d been able to help. “How is the barbecue going on the sun deck?” Time to talk about something else.
Matias glanced at her sideways, probably catching on to her change
in conversation, but he didn’t comment on it. “It’s going well. It’s usually one of the highlights on the cruise for a lot of the passengers. The regional food and wine and the folk music make it different from what we have going on aboard on the other days of the trip.” He paused to look at her. “And you, did you enjoy yourself?”
His tone was cautious, a careful probing. There was more intention behind it than his casual expression gave away, as if he were expecting her to reveal her true self in just a few words.
“I did. The food was excellent and the music—” She inhaled, borrowing time for the perfect word— “invigorating.” She laughed lightly.
“Invigorating?” Matias chuckled. “I never thought of it that way, but yes, it is.”
“I don’t know why I used that word.” She shrugged. “Sometimes I say silly things after something serious happens. My dad didn’t like it too much when I was growing up. He’d get upset with me.” Vanessa cringed inwardly. That was too much to share.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just a way to diffuse the tension after a hard situation. Some people use humor, others like to go out for a drink with their friends after work.”
“What kind of person are you: go out for drinks or say silly things?”
“I guess a bit of both. I remember going out with my cousins and we’d get silly,” he said. “So it was just you and your father growing up? No other family?”
She shook her head. “No one else, just the two of us.”
“And you never asked him why?”
“I did a few times, but his answers were plausible, and he always seemed upset when I asked, so I stopped asking.”
“And now, how does it feel to know you have grandparents and extended family?”
How could she explain something she still had a hard time with? “It’s been hard. I don’t know how to react or what to say. When I arrived in Porto, my grandparents had a big welcome dinner for me with all the extended family. There were so many people, and they made me the center of attention. I kind of freaked out and hid in my apartment for the next few days.” She cringed at the memory. “They had good intentions, and I should have reacted differently, but there’s no manual, you know? I feel like whatever I choose to do, I’ll be disappointing someone.”
Meet Me At Sunrise (Destined for Love: Europe) Page 8