When the Heavens Fall

by Gilbert, Morris

  She managed to carry on a conversation until her father said, “I wanted to give you the good news. Come, Don Pedro, we will draw up the papers for the marriage.”

  As soon as the two men left the room, Dolores walked to the window and stared out but could not see anything. Emotions raged through her. She had tried to let her father know that she was not interested in Don Pedro Varga, but Jaspar Mendoza was accustomed to having his own way, certainly with his own daughter. She put her hands on the window and leaned out. She could think of nothing but the need to keep this thing from happening. A sharp fear filled her heart. She saw herself married to this old man. He would die one day, but until then he would be her master and would use her as he saw fit.

  She paced the floor, her mind going from one solution to another, all of them impossible. She came back to the window and, looking down, she saw Brandon Winslow speaking to Bernado, one of the grooms. Desperate, she knew she had to get out of the house. She swept out of the room, and her mother called to her as she passed. “Where are you going, Dolores?”

  “Oh, I’m going to—to confession.”

  “Yes. That will be good.”

  “And afterward I’m going to spend the night with Damita.”

  “She’s a good girl. You come back early tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Leaving the house, she walked until she saw Brandon. His eyes lit up when he saw her. It made her feel good to know that despite her great trouble this man seemed to care for her.

  “Good morning, señorita. You out for a walk?”

  “I am going to church to confession.”

  “Perhaps I can escort you.”

  “That would be very nice.”

  The church was only a short distance away. They stopped beside a fountain, and Dolores said, “I love this fountain. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is. I’ve not seen a finer one.”

  Dolores looked up at the church ahead of them. “Are you a Catholic, Englishman?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not either Catholic or Protestant, Señorita Dolores.”

  “You never go to confession?”

  Brandon smiled. He had a charming smile. His teeth were white and quite even. “I do go to confession in a way.”

  “But if you’re not a Catholic who is your priest?”

  “Jesus is my priest—or he will be one day. At least, that’s what my uncle tells me.”

  “What does it mean, to have Jesus as your priest?”

  “My father’s favorite book in the Bible is called Hebrews, and he made me memorize much of it as a child. It says that when Jesus came to earth he fulfilled the law, and all the religion of the Jews, so there was no need to sacrifice lambs anymore, because Jesus, the Bible says, was the Lamb of God. When he died, he was the true Lamb of God. And he also said that Jesus is our high priest. Let’s see if I can quote it.” He paused for a moment and tried to think. “It says something like, ‘Seeing then that we have a high priest which has passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us come boldly to the throne of grace that we may attain mercy and grace to help in times of need.’”

  “That’s very beautiful, but is it true?”

  “It’s true if the Bible is true. At least, my family says so. Now, you understand my uncle tells me these things. He says that one day I’ll be able to go to Jesus with my sins, but not until I find God.”

  “Do you think you ever will?”

  “I don’t know, señorita. I certainly need to. I have good parents and a good uncle, and I have seen true believers. But I don’t have that spirit within me. I don’t know God even though I’ve seen him in others.”

  They walked on until she reached the church. Dolores said, “I must go to confession.”

  “I’ll wait here. Perhaps we could walk some more.”

  That pleased her greatly. She went to confession and made a quick enough business of it.

  When she came out, it was growing dark. Brandon came to join her. “Let me escort you home.”

  “I’m not going home. I’m going to my friend Damita.”

  “Well, let me take you there.”

  “Very well. You may walk with me.”

  When they passed the fountain, it was growing darker. Dolores’s attention was caught by a movement over to her left. She saw a young man and a young woman embracing. Glancing at Brandon’s face, she saw that he was smiling.

  “They must be in love, kissing like that,” he said.

  “My maid was asking about love. She has a young suitor named Antonio. He urges her to—well, to let him love her before they’re married. She asked me what to do.”

  “What did you tell her, Señorita Dolores?”

  “I told her it would be wrong. Don’t you think so?”

  “I’m not the man to answer that question.”

  Suddenly they were not far from Damita’s house. Dolores stopped and said, “Have you had many women?”

  “Too many.” He shook his head. “I have not been a good man.”

  The confession struck Dolores. She felt it was honest. Suddenly she blurted out, “My father came to see me just before I left the house. He brought Don Pedro Varga with him. He—he told me that Don Pedro has asked for my hand.”

  Her voice was strained. Brandon leaned down to look more closely at her. “That doesn’t make you happy, does it?”

  “No. I don’t love that man.”

  “Can’t you refuse?”

  “You don’t know my father.” Overwhelmed by the thought of her bleak future, Dolores started to walk away. Brandon caught her arm and turned her around. She saw that there was compassion in his face. “I wish I could help you,” he said.

  “No one can help me.”

  The tears ran down Dolores’s face, and she cried out bitterly, “I wish I were an orphan. I wish Mendoza had left me where I was. I’d be happier in a one-room house than in our grand villa, if I could be free.”

  A spasm of crying shook her, and Brandon felt pity for her. He put his arms around her, whispering, “Maybe I can help.” He held her as she cried and clung to him.

  She stepped back and, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she wiped her face.

  “If you would like to get away from here, Dolores, where would you go?”

  “I don’t know. Some place where I’d be free.”

  Brandon knew this was the time for him to speak, and he knew it was dangerous. She might be terrified and even tell Jaspar Mendoza, but he knew he had to take the chance. “I’ll help you get away, if that’s what you want, Dolores.”

  She looked up with astonishment, for none of her possible solutions included running away. “Get away? Where would I go?”

  “To England.”

  “Run away to England with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But—I don’t know anybody there. What would I do? How would I live?”

  “You’d be free, but here’s what you’d do. You would stay with my parents. Or there’s a wealthy man and his wife,” he added, “a couple named Fairfax. They would take you in. They lost a child, and they’ve always been lonely.”

  Dolores was still trembling, but she put her hand on his chest and whispered, “Can I trust you, Brandon?”

  “You must think about it, Dolores. I’ll get you to England if you choose to go.” He lifted her hand from his chest and kissed it. “I can see the dread in your eyes, Dolores. I don’t want you to have a miserable life with a man you don’t love. If I could get you away, you could have the freedom you long for.”

  “How could that be?”

  “It would be as I have told you. Lord Fairfax and his wife would love to take you in. Or even my parents—they are the most loving people in the world. They would take you in and you’d be part of our family.” Brandon wanted to tell her that the Fairfaxes were her real parents, but decided later would be better.

  Dolores looked up into Brandon’s face, and asked again. “Can I trust you, Brandon?
”

  “I’ll never harm you, Dolores, and I’ll help you find a new life.”

  Brandon felt her hands gripping his and knew that she was vulnerable. I’ve got to convince her that she can have a good life in England! He spoke more of how she would find happiness in England.

  Finally she looked up at him and asked, “Do you love me then, Brandon?”

  He had to struggle not to pull himself away from her in surprise. Knowing she was terrified and that he had to assure her, he leaned forward and kissed her gently, then told the lie he knew was necessary. “Yes. I love you, Dolores.”

  Brandon saw hope ease into her eyes. She clung to him and whispered, “I’ll—I’ll go with you. I’ll do as you say.”

  Relief came to Brandon but also guilt. She doesn’t love me. When she gets to England, she’ll realize it was desperation that made her think of love. To cover his confusion and his guilt, he said quickly, “This will take some careful planning. I’ll have to get us to the coast safely. Are you certain you want to do this, Dolores?”

  “Yes! But now I must go,” Dolores said, then whispered, “Please don’t be false with me, Brandon. Keep your word that you’ll take care of me. I’m putting all my hope in you.”

  Brandon lifted her hand and kissed it. “I promise to not harm you, and I will do my best to get you to England and find you some place where you will be free and happy.”

  She reached up and touched his cheek, then said again, “I must go.” She left then, and he watched her all the way to the end of the street.

  Dolores thought about what it would mean to leave her father’s house, the only home she had really known. She thought of little other than the feeling she had for Brandon and the desire she had to escape a marriage she did not want. She spoke to no one.

  The next day her father came to her and said, “Don Pedro is ready to marry you. He wants to be married within a week.”

  “That’s too soon!”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Please, Father. I need more time,” she begged, but Jaspar Mendoza could only see an easy life ahead, once he was allied with the house of Don Pedro.

  “I’ll make all the arrangements. Do not fret, Daughter. I’ll see that you have a beautiful wedding dress in time.” Dolores knew nothing would change his mind, and she knew that only Brandon Winslow could save her.

  She saw him later that day, and they had a moment’s privacy. She reached out, and he took her hand. “My father says I must be married in a week.”

  Brandon whispered, “Do you still want me to take you to England?”

  “I can’t marry that man.”

  “I’ll help you escape, Dolores.”

  “I have only you to trust, Brandon. Please don’t fail me!”

  Brandon guiltily took her in his arms, kissed her, and said, “We’ll get away from here. You’ll be happy in England. I promise you.”

  “And we’ll be married then?”

  Brandon could not answer. He had not once thought that she would assume his profession of love meant he would marry her. How can I promise her we’ll be married? She won’t come with me unless I do. Instantly he knew he had to make a promise that he knew he would never keep. But he truly believed that when she was safe with her real parents, she would see that he’d done the right thing.

  “Yes, Dolores, we’ll be married,” he said.

  Dolores clung to him and whispered, “I thank God for sending you to save me, Brandon. I—I feel that I’ve come out of a terrible storm into a safe harbor.”

  Brandon could not say a word, but as he again took her in his arms, he knew that at some point, he would pay a steep price for his deception.

  17

  Brandon ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of total distraction. He had paced the floor for over an hour, and now he glanced over at Philemon and said, “I don’t think there is any way that I can make this work.”

  “There’s always a way, sir. If I knew what it was that you were trying to do, perhaps I could help.”

  For an instant Brandon hesitated. He had grown quite fond of Philemon. He had learned that the man had a keen brain beneath his plain features. Almost in desperation, he told Philemon the whole story. He ended by saying, “So that’s the problem, you see. I must get the woman out of there to a ship and then to England. It will be like robbing the Tower of the crown jewels to get her away. Her home is guarded like a prison. She will be missed within the hour.”

  Philemon leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, then said, “Well, sir, I would agree that is a difficult problem. Have you thought of praying for an answer?”

  “Prayer? My father and uncle would say the same thing, but God’s surely not listening to me at the moment.”

  “Well, my father was a man of prayer, Master Winslow, and he taught me a few things. Why don’t you let me see if I can get God’s mind on the matter?”

  “Go ahead, but I’d be shocked if God were interested in my little problems.”

  Brandon mounted his horse and rode to the Mendoza estate. He had arranged to meet Dolores at the small river where she often went for a ride. She was there when he arrived. No sooner had he dismounted and tied his horse than she was beside him with a smile on her face and a happy tone in her voice. She extended her hands, and when he took them, she cried, “Brandon, I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

  “Why, you needn’t fear that. I’ve only been trying to think of some way we could get you out of here.”

  “Come. Sit down with me.” Dolores pulled him over to a log beside the river, and they sat down. She took his left hand with one of hers and held it tightly. “I dreamed about you last night, Brandon.”

  “Not a nightmare, I trust.”

  “No, it was a very good dream. I can’t tell you all of it, for it’s somewhat…private. Perhaps after we are married.”

  Brandon felt another sharp pang of guilt. He could think of nothing to say. “It’s going to be a difficult thing, Dolores, but I’m going to get you out of this place one way or another. It will be dangerous, though.”

  “I don’t care. I have you now, Brandon, and if I had to die, I could face that. What I couldn’t face is staying here and getting married to a man I don’t love.” She suddenly dropped his hand and pressed herself against him. Her face was glowing. She had a way of smiling and laughing that was extremely attractive, her chin tilting up and her lips curving in pretty lines. A small dimple appeared to the left of her mouth, and a light danced in her eyes. She made a provocative challenge, and Brandon knew that somewhere this woman had a rich, racy current of vitality within her. He knew she wanted him to speak the language of love, but he could not force himself to do it.

  “I must see your father and talk about horses. If I don’t continue to pursue the purchase, he’ll be suspicious. And I’ll lose my reason for calling at the villa.”

  “You are abandoning your quest to secure horses to take back to England?”

  Brandon cleared his throat. “I have you. There is nothing else I need.”

  They got to their feet. Dolores put her arms around his neck, pulled his head down, and kissed him.

  “I love you, Brandon,” she whispered.

  Brandon swallowed hard and said, “You’re such a lovely woman. Any man would be proud to have you, Dolores.” He shook his head and said, “I must go now. If we are seen meeting like this, it will destroy everything.”

  Philemon stood up as soon as Brandon stepped in the room, saying, “Sir, I think I have a word from the Lord.”

  Brandon stopped abruptly. “I’ve always been suspicious of those who said God talks to them.”

  “Well, the Lord does talk to us. I don’t hear a voice, but I just asked the Lord to give me some kind of a plan to get the young woman to England.”

  “And you think you have one?”

  “Yes, sir. Sit down and let me explain it to you.”

  The two men sat down at the plain table th
ey used for writing and for meals, and Philemon said with excitement, “The problem, sir, is that Mendoza knows the country. He knows that you landed at San Sebastián, and if he chased you, he would probably head for there. What has to happen is we get the woman, tear our way to the harbor, and as soon as we get there, board a ship that leaves immediately.”

  “How can I find a ship like that?”

  “First you buy the horses from Mendoza. It’ll take twenty of them.”

  “Why twenty?”

  “Because we’re not taking the horses all the way to the ship. Here’s the plan. We’ll station these horses at intervals, two of them at each place. Then you’ll get Miss Dolores at midnight. That will give you most of the night to travel, and hopefully she won’t be missed until nearly noon. So you ride twenty miles, change to fresh horses, do another twenty, and so forth all the way to the sea. In other words, you’ll make the journey nonstop.”

  “Well, that just leaves two problems. One, how do we know a ship will be leaving just at that moment?”

  “As I say, sir, you buy the horses, and we’ll leave with them. We’ll make the trip to San Sebastián, leaving the horses at different places along the way, and when we get there, we’ll find a ship. You will have to pay the captain whatever he wants in order to wait for us. As soon as that’s settled, you return to retrieve Miss Dolores, while I wait at the harbor to be sure the captain keeps his promises. Don’t you see? You get the lady out, then you and she ride those horses as fast as possible. You get to the coast, jump on the ship, and where is Mendoza then? Miles and miles behind you.”

  Brandon stared at Philemon in wonder. “You think this comes from God, this crazy idea?”