Chapter Seven
Gaby carefully cradled the basket of eggs in her arm while she watched one particular vaquero saddle his horse. The morning sun was strong, so his hat was tucked down to ward off the hot glare. It rode just high enough on his brow to catch a glimpse of his features. They were strong and handsome. Sharp angles and high, prominent cheekbones offset a narrow nose. A permanent smile betrayed his pleasant personality and even his dark eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement.
She had caught a look of interest in his brown eyes on several occasions, but he had yet to speak to her. She wished he would, perhaps if he did she would find herself attracted to him and that would put an end to her lingering, sinful thoughts of Rafael.
She lifted her eyes to his once again and he smiled. She returned it, offering a small bit of encouragement with a sway of her hips. The vaquero immediately took advantage and approached her.
Gaby’s heart fluttered and she whispered a small, hopeful prayer.
“Excuse me, senorita,” he said, his voice deep yet soft. “May I introduce myself?”
“Si,” Gaby answered, pleased he was behaving like a gentleman and treating her with respect.
“My name is Sanchez. I watch you walk by each day with the basket of eggs. I tell myself I must meet this beautiful senorita.”
Gaby smiled at his charming manner. “My name is Gaby. I work as companion to Dona Maria.”
He tilted his head slightly and raised one brow. “And you gather eggs?”
“A favor for Lupe.”
“Thoughtful. A fine trait in a woman.”
His tongue charmed and she found him entertaining. “And what is one of your better traits?”
He grinned, pulled the brim of his hat low and took a step closer to her side, shading their faces from view of the other vaqueros. “Ah, senorita, I have many and would love to demonstrate them for you. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the mission dance next Saturday?”
Gaby gave the idea thought. It would be delightful to enjoy a carefree evening with Sanchez. It could very well take her mind off Rafael. She was about to answer when a stern voice interfered.
“Gaby cannot go with you.”
The startled couple turned to see Rafael glaring at them. His jaw was set tight in annoyance and his blue eyes blazed with barely controlled anger.
“Sanchez, you have duties to attend to. See to them. Now!”
Sanchez hurried off, mounting his horse quickly and joining the other vaqueros as they rode out to complete their chores.
Defiant eyes captured smoldering ones as Gaby faced Rafael. “I am not busy Saturday night. Your mother gave me permission to take the evening off.”
“My mother doesn’t have the authority to grant you permission for anything.”
Gaby’s free hand joined the other that held the egg basket, gripping her bundle more tightly than was necessary. She didn’t trust herself at the moment. If she didn’t keep her hands busy, she was afraid they would involuntarily reach out and smack the air of arrogance off Rafael’s face.
She swallowed what she was certain was her pride before she spoke. “May I have Saturday evening free?”
Rafael’s eyes had remained intent on her. He could feel her pulsating emotions as well as see them. Her breasts heaved with the rapid beat of her heart. Her hands tightened together until they turned ghostly white, and the small vein in her neck throbbed with her rapid heartbeat. Her emotions paralleled those of a woman heated with passion. If anger could cause such a rise of passion in her, what could an evening of dancing in the warm night air bring out in her?
His answer was quick and stern. “No!”
“But Dona Maria doesn’t require my assistance and I am entitled to—”
“You are entitled to nothing. You are serving a punishment and are confined to the hacienda.”
“I am a prisoner?”
Rafael actually found the idea of her being his prisoner amusing. “I suppose in actuality you would be considered one.”
“Then I am not permitted outside the walls of the hacienda?” she asked, concerned by the total control this man had over her.
“With my permission you may leave it. I shall not keep you from visiting your family or attending religious activities in town.
Her gaze dropped to the dozen eggs nestled in the basket. He controlled her totally, completely. She could go nowhere, do nothing without his word. She spoke softly, not lifting her head. “Why do you do this?”
“It is my duty. You are my responsibility.”
She lifted her head. She wore a gentle smile and no traces of anger touched her words. “Is it only duty that drives you so?”
Rafael stiffened, his shoulders going back, expanding his chest and causing his white shirt to stretch taut against his firm muscles. “There are many things that drive and push a man to act as he does. But it is not a woman’s place to question why.”
“Or a prisoner?” she amended.
“Definitely not a prisoner.”
“I shall remember my position.”
“See that you do.”
“I must tend to my duties.”
“That would be wise.”
“I cannot attend the mission dance?”
“Must I repeat myself?”
Gaby shook her head and turned, walking slowly away. She stopped and once more turned to look at Rafael. His expression was serious, his body powerful, his stance commanding. Her stomach fluttered.
“If Sanchez asks me to the religious festival, may I go?”
“No!”
“You said I could attend religious active—”
“With my permission,” he interrupted.
“Why can’t I—”
“Don’t question my authority, Gaby.”
Gaby turned and hurried away. No anger haunted her thoughts although she would have preferred that emotion to the ones she felt. Anticipation warred with fear, for she knew without a doubt that Rafael Cabrillo wanted her, and he would have her. The fear was ... that she wanted him as well.
~~~
Gaby helped Lupe prepare breakfast, immersing herself in the task in order to rid her mind of her earlier encounter with Rafael.
She had managed to lighten her mood by the time she entered the dining room, but it quickly faded as Dona Maria spoke.
“Are you going to the mission dance Saturday evening, Gaby?”
“No, Dona Maria.”
The warning look Rafael shot Gaby was not lost on the older woman and neither was the tension that crackled in the air when the two were present. She had hoped the young vaquero Sanchez would have asked her out. Lupe had mentioned the young man’s interest in Gaby. She had purposely told Lupe that Gaby would have the evening free, hoping she would inform the young man. She was certain Lupe had told him. What possibly could be the problem? Did Gaby turn him down? Was she interested in Rafael, hoping to become his mistress?
Dona Maria was no fool. It was obvious her son was attracted to Gaby. But she liked the young peasant girl and didn’t wish to see her as mistress to her son. She deserved more. She was a good girl.
Gaby finished serving and was about to leave when Dona Maria’s question stopped her cold.
“I had heard you were asked to the dance. Don’t you wish to go with the gentleman?”
Rafael leaned his elbow on the table’s edge and rested his chin on his fingers. He regarded his mother with extreme interest. “How did you know she was asked?”
A blush rose to stain the older woman’s pale cheeks and her flustered state was obvious. “I-I had heard from the servants.”
“Gossip travels at an alarming rate. She was only asked this morning.”
“Well—that is—I heard a young vaquero was interested in Gaby. I just assumed... “
“That he would ask her—if she had the evening off.”
“Gaby is entitled to an evening to herself,” Dona Maria said. “She is young and should think of marriage and a family
.”
The thought infuriated Rafael. His fist came down on the table with an angry pound. “She is serving a punishment. She will not entertain ideas of marriage and children, until the punishment is served in full.”
Dona Maria looked with pity on Gaby standing quietly by the door. “That is not fair, Rafael.”
“I judge what is fair and what isn’t.”
“Did she wish to go to the dance with Sanchez?”
Rafael realized at the moment that he had never asked her and suddenly her answer was important to him. “Gaby, did you wish to go to the dance with Sanchez?”
Gaby felt her heart race. She had wanted to attend the dance, enjoy the music, feel a man’s arm around her, but it wasn’t Sanchez whose arms she ached for, so she answered as she knew she must. “Yes.”
Dona Maria smiled. Good the girl wasn’t interested in Rafael. “See, you should allow Gaby the evening out with Sanchez.”
Rafael wasn’t paying attention to his mother. He was staring at Gaby. So she wished to see this man, go to the dance with him, laugh with him, perhaps even kiss him. “You have my permission to go to the dance with Sanchez.”
Both women stared at him in disbelief.
“As long as,” —he paused causing both women to hold their breaths in anticipation— “all your duties are complete.”
Gaby smiled and nodded, accepting the challenge he extended. “Si, Don Rafael.”
~~~
Rafael woke with a start from his dream, his body thick with perspiration. He bolted up, the damp sheet falling to his waist. He tossed it off and swung his long legs out of bed to sit on the edge. He brought his cupped hands to his face for a moment before running them over it and through his rumpled hair.
He stood naked, his damp, taut muscles glistening from the moonbeams that danced through the open window. He walked over to the table and poured himself a glass of Madeira, taking it back to bed with him. He slipped beneath the light cover and braced the pillow behind his back and slowly savored the wine.
The dream remained on the fringes of his thoughts nagging to be accepted for what it represented, but he fought against it. He forced his thoughts on his vineyards and the yield they would produce in another year. He thought of his orchards and the fresh fruit they provided year-round. He bravely resisted the dream’s interference until he rested his head back and closed his eyes and Gaby’s face filled his vision.
The dream came again. He was in a small cell. It was dark except for the flicker of light from a small, melted-down candle sitting on a bench. Across from the bench sat Gaby on a narrow bed. She was dressed as usual, a brown skirt and white blouse, only her hair was different. It wasn’t braided. It hung loose and free over her shoulders and along her breasts.
He walked over to her. He wore only his black pants. Neither of them wore shoes, and the thought made him smile.
He sank down beside her and pushed her silky dark hair back over her shoulders. “You are my prisoner,” he said.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
Before her second ‘yes’ escaped her lips, his lips were on hers. His taste was hungry, almost savage, as though he couldn’t get enough of her. She didn’t resist, she encouraged. He slipped her blouse off her shoulders and bared her large breasts. They were round and plump and his hands found them pleasurable. His mouth soon followed, teasing the nipples with his tongue, licking and suckling until Gaby’s moans grew in intensity.
“You’re my prisoner,” he said once again.
“Yes, yes,” she cried.
His hands remained firm on her breasts while his lips searched and found the throbbing pulse at her throat. He ran his tongue along it, feeling her lifeblood flowing until he came to rest on her lips.
“Prisoner,” he whispered repeatedly. “Prisoner.”
She stopped him then, pulled up her blouse, and stood. She walked away and the flickering candle’s light followed her path to the door. She opened it, smiled at him and walked out shutting it behind her.
The click of the door told him she was gone, but the whisper remained.
“Prisoner.”
His eyes flew open and he shivered, wiping the sweat from his brow. It was obvious, so very obvious. She was not his prisoner. He was hers.
~~~
The dance was one week away and Gaby felt as though her chores would never end. Every time she thought she had caught up, she found she herself further behind. Of course, it was all Rafael’s doing. Dona Maria had lightened her chores, but when Rafael discovered this he added more to her workload. She refused to give up. She had accepted Sanchez’s invitation with a smile, which he had returned, promising her an evening of fun. She was looking forward to it. She needed it. She needed to get away from Rafael.
She had picked fruit for Lupe knowing it was Rafael’s order; she had polished all the silver knowing it was Rafael’s order. She would never, never give in no matter how many chores he dumped on her.
She was braiding her hair for the day when she noticed the bruise on her right arm. It was purple and red and it hurt. Then she recalled the bruise on her leg and the one on her thigh. She hadn’t thought anything of them at first. Her own clumsiness she reasoned. But of late she wondered if the children were playing pranks.
The first incident was a few days ago. She had come out of the hen house, her arms wrapped around the basket of two dozen eggs. She hadn’t looked down, the path had always been clear of any debris. That was why she was so shocked to find herself tripping over the wood crate that had always sat beside the cookhouse door filled with kindling. She came down hard against it and a thin sliver of wood had ripped through her skirt piercing her thigh.
Lupe had tended the wound and threatened the small boy whose job it was to keep it filled. He had insisted he hadn’t moved it. He had placed it where it belonged. Lupe hadn’t believed him, declaring his foolish pranks often got him into trouble.
Gaby had sensed the boy’s fright; he trembled with it. He had pleaded with huge, sobbing tears that Lupe had insisted were false, not to tell Don Rafael. In the end, Lupe had relented, sending the boy off with a whack to the back of his head and strict orders to tend to his chores or else.
The second incident had occurred in the orchard, but had been her fault. She had spied a fat orange high up on the tree and thought the juice would be plentiful and sweet for Dona Maria’s breakfast. She had climbed the small wooden ladder kept in the orchards. When she had been ready to climb down, a rung on the ladder cracked and she fell to the ground. One ankle had been the only part of her to suffer. It held a bruise as a reminder of her carelessness. She should have checked the ladder’s condition as her father had often taught her.
The third incident troubled her the most. She had been sure it was meant as a prank. That she hadn’t been the target, the tomato had been. She had been in the vegetable garden leaning over to pick a ripe tomato from the lush plant. Suddenly, her arm had felt as if it was on fire and the tomato had shattered to pieces before her eyes. When she had looked at her arm, it had been bleeding. She had assumed the weapon had been a sharp rock, being the vegetable had burst.
Glancing once again at the abrasion, she made a vow to find the culprit and give him a sound tongue-lashing, certain it had been one of the mischievous children working around the hacienda.
She opened the door and made to step outside when her bare feet connected with a short stack of logs. She lost her balance and fell to her knees. She heard children giggle and swore this would be the end of it. She refused to put up with anymore nonsense. She picked herself up, brushing at her clothes and checking her knees. A scrape and blood marred one. She shook her head and moved the logs away from the doorstep before going off to the cookhouse.
“You should speak to Don Rafael,” Lupe insisted for the third time. “He would put a stop to this foolishness.”
“I will handle it,” Gaby said, wiping the small abrasion with a warm wet cloth. “The children are testing me.”
Lupe shook her head. “Testing you for what? To see how much pain you can bear?”
“They are mischievous boys like my brothers.” Gaby laughed recalling all the tricks and jokes her brothers had played on her.
“And your papa never scolded them for leaving bruises on you?”
“I suffered a bruise only once and my father...”
“See,” Lupe said as Gaby’s words trailed off. “Your father then left bruises on them.”
“Si, he did.”
“Is that what you’re afraid of? That Don Rafael will have the boys whipped?”
“Won’t he?” she asked the thought having crossed her mind.
Lupe wrapped a thick cloth around the handle of the iron skillet on the cook stove and moved it to rest on an iron trivet on the table. “It is not his way. He does not punish unfairly.”
Gaby helped remove the hot biscuits from the pan onto a plate. “I don’t always find that to be true.”
Lupe looked at her and pushed a lone strand of hair from the young girl’s forehead. “Si, with you he does not play fair. This puzzles me.”
It didn’t puzzle Gaby, but she didn’t wish to involve Lupe in her problem. “Already?” she asked, anxious to serve breakfast.
Lupe smiled and handed Gaby the serving tray filled with hot scrambled eggs, peppers, potatoes, sausages, biscuits, muffins, and fruits.
Gaby entered the room her usual way, backside first. Dona Maria was chattering away to Rafael and paused to bid her good morning. Rafael was so engrossed with reading papers resting in his lap and followed his mother’s greeting with one of his own, that he did not bother to look up.
Gaby cheerfully went about her task, wanting to complete it as fast as possible. She had many other chores to see to that day, and if she kept to her schedule she’d finally be ahead.
She finished serving and hurried from the room. She helped Lupe with the breakfast pots and pans and was drying the last one when Rafael entered.
“Lupe, my mother wishes to speak with you,” he said and turned to leave the room. He stopped suddenly, turned back around, and stared at Gaby. “See to my mother now, Lupe.”
Untamed Fire Page 8