Awaken My Heart

by DiAnn Mills

  “I know the Spanish have insured your valley, but mi padre has devised a plan to possess it despite the governor’s mandate.”

  He looked beyond her, as though expecting an army of Papa’s men to ride up. “Who else is with you? Juan Torres?”

  “No one. I couldn’t risk Juan’s life or any of the vaqueros.”

  “But who followed you?”

  She thought back over her encounter with the vaquero. Could he, in fact, have trailed her to La Flor? “I don’t believe anyone knows I’m here,” she said. Felipe knew she feared him, but he needed to see her determination. “Time is short. I must speak with Armando.”

  “I could kill you and hide your body.”

  “But you won’t.” Her words sounded braver than she felt. “You love your people and this valley too much to risk it. If I’m lying, then you have the right to kill me.”

  He hesitated.

  “I have no reason to lie to you.”

  She waited while the sounds of early morning chorused around her.

  “I will have someone take you to Armando.” Felipe scrambled to the top of a large rock and waved his musket signaling another guard. “I need to keep my post in case we are attacked.”

  Marianne didn’t care whether Felipe believed her or not. What mattered was warning Armando about Papa’s plan. She followed a young man on a burro through the narrow streets of the village. The beginning sounds of a new day caressed her ears and the smells of a morning meal caused her stomach to rumble. At Manuel and Rosa’s hut, the young man jumped from his mount and knocked on the door.

  The reality of seeing Armando suddenly shook her senses. Would he think she’d devised a scheme to come to him? What if he refused to consider her warning? Her arrival could make him angry, especially if he’d grown fond of a young señorita from the village.

  She swung her leg over the saddle and lowered herself to the hard ground. Trepidation raced through her veins. Patting the stallion’s neck, she noted he needed food, water, and proper grooming. Surely Armando would not deny care for the stallion.

  “Marianne?” Armando called from the doorway, his voice rippling with sensuality.

  Holding Diablo’s reins, while her heart clung to God, she caught a glimpse of his face. Dawn ushered its shadows across his unforgettable features.

  “Si. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I have news—news that could not wait.” Her voice faltered in his presence, not at all possessing the confidence she desired.

  He stepped closer and Diablo protested. “Hush,” she said. “Armando will not harm me.”

  “What has happened?” He ignored the stallion’s snorts. “Are you all right?”

  She wanted to see if his eyes still held the same warmth and tenderness, but she couldn’t permit herself such vulnerability. How she loved him, but she had a matter before her more important than her love. “I learned something horrible last night. Papa plans to destroy La Flor and everyone in it.”

  “Destroy the village? How?”

  “By stampeding a herd of cattle through here late tonight and then setting fire to the huts. I overheard him finalize his plans near midnight.”

  “Where is your escort?” he asked. “Please do not tell me you rode here alone.” Lines deepened across his forehead.

  “I couldn’t risk the lives of others.”

  “You traveled all night?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Were you not afraid?”

  “Si, very much. I am a coward when it comes to the night. But I am more afraid for La Flor, and I am afraid for Papa. Some will die this day, and I wish none of it to happen.” She calmed Diablo, then walked toward him. “Papa still wants the valley for himself…and he plans to kill all of you for it.”

  Armando reached for her, and she dropped the reins to fall into his embrace. “Mi ángel,” he whispered. With one hand against the back of her waist, he guided her quivering body against his chest. His other hand wove his fingers through her tresses. She heard his rapidly beating heart and felt his face brush against the top of her head.

  Cautiously, as though she were but a fragile piece of porcelain, his fingers slipped from her hair to her neck and on to her lips in feather-like softness. He touched them lightly, and she lost herself in the dark pools of his eyes, the depth of which seemed to have no end. His head descended and she tilted hers to meet him. Lips parted, Marianne silently begged for his kiss, and Armando did not disappoint her.

  At first he tasted her lightly, like a butterfly glides upon a summer breeze and embraces a flower. Then he deepened his fervor, claiming her with his gentle brand.

  The intensity of his passion sent a glorious, warm tingling through her veins. How long she had dreamed of this moment. If only time could suspend forever.

  Armando lifted his head and took both of her hands into his. He caressed her face and kissed her forehead. “I said I would never reveal the desires of my heart, but I cannot live another day without telling you of my love. I long for you with every breath I take. Your memory is always before me.”

  “And I love you,” she said. “Before I knew the meaning of the words, you were in my dreams.”

  Again he drank from her lips and drew her tightly into his arms. At last they parted. She wanted to believe there would be time for them later, and she could not relinquish that hope.

  “You could have been hurt,” he said. “I don’t want to think of life without you. What is the urgency for such a dangerous ride? I understand your father’s hate for me—”

  “He plans to commit this horrible thing when this day is over. And his vengeance is more than hate for you, it’s the land.” She stared into his deep, penetrating eyes. “What he will do is more terrible than I could imagine.”

  “Tell me.” His hand still clasped hers.

  “Some of his amigos have arrived from the States. They are evil men. Mid-morning Papa plans to inform those at the ranch that he and his friends are riding north in search of mustangs. But what he really will do is move westward and round up nearly a thousand head of cattle to stampede through the valley tonight after everyone sleeps.”

  A cold, angry stare replaced Armando’s ardent gaze. “Has he no honor? Innocent women and children murdered in their sleep? And what of the old people?”

  “I don’t understand him,” Marianne said. “Neither do I know how he can be stopped. I love him, Armando, but this is so wrong.”

  He paused and pulled her close to him. “If ever I needed Dios, it is now.” He held her a moment longer. “The men from the village must be assembled at once and a plan devised to save our people.”

  Lifting her head, Marianne hoped she could find the strength for what lay ahead. “I will stay with Rosa. You do what you feel is right. I’m afraid for you and your people. And with what I’ve done, I’m afraid for Mama and my tio and tia.” She took a breath. “And my papa. I love him too, even with what he’s planned.”

  In the next instant, Armando left her to summon the men of La Flor.

  Silence met Armando’s ears once he finished explaining what Weston Phillips intended to do to the people of La Flor. A few of the older men turned ashen while others wore grim expressions as they considered the threat to their friends and families.

  “What do we do, Armando?” Pepe asked. He leaned against a live oak. Armando felt a swelling in his chest—not of pride but a heaviness that revealed his inadequacy. Felipe stood to his left, discontent etched in his brow. “In the beginning, we all talked of giving our lives for our valley,” Armando said. “We believed our families and children deserved to keep their homes. I know this hasn’t changed. I’ve made mistakes, and you’ve still allowed me to continue leading you. Perhaps it’s because you know my heart rests with all of La Flor.

  “We celebrated when Padre Bernardino Vallyo spoke to Governor Juan Bautistade Elguezábel, and he ruled in our favor. But Weston Phillips has not given up securing the valley for himself. This road we walk is hard. The Spanish cannot arrive in time to save us,
nor do we have many weapons to fight. So once more we are alone to defend our families and our homes.” Armando’s emotion nearly choked him. He paused to gain control. For the first time in many years, he wanted Dios to be real. “As Dios reigns in the heavens, I never wanted to sway any of you in the wrong path.”

  He stared out over the gathering of men, certainly not a strong band of soldiers, but simple people who loved their homes and families.

  “My allegiance is to you,” an older man said.

  “Si,” another called out. “You give us your ideas, and we will listen.”

  Emilio stood, and the crowd hushed. He waved his hand over the men and faced Armando. “Mi amigo, we follow your heart. Let us pray and ask Dios to guide us.”

  “You pray,” Armando said to Emilio. “I cannot form the words.” Perspiration trickled down Armando’s face. For the first time in many years, he craved Dios to be real.

  “Maria, madre santa del Dios, hear our prayers. We humbly ask for guidance and protection from Señor Phillips. Save our children, we ask of you. Save our village.”

  Armando listened to his friend’s prayer. He too had implored Dios to help. Not for me, but for my people. I do not deserve Your attention. Hear the words of these humble servants and cast them not away from Your presence.

  How long had King David’s plea escaped his mind and heart? The declarations from the ancient king tumbled from his thoughts like a waterfall rushing to meet the earth. Armando had blamed Dios for so many years for the unfortunate and tragic events tormenting his life. When he left the mission, he traded his fervor for God for the cause of La Flor. Both had emptied his life and left him impatient and weary. Yet somehow the answer had to lie in Armando’s relationship with Him.

  Emilio concluded his petition. “Grant our leader wisdom in how we can prevent this tragedy. In Your Holy Son’s name. Amen.” The men looked to Armando for answers as though Dios spoke through him. Their lives, their families, and their homes were at stake. He dared not lead them astray.

  Help me, Dios. Por favor, I beg of You.

  “I don’t think a man here wants to abandon his home to Señor Phillips,” Armando began. When they affirmed his statement, he raised his hands for their attention. “We will all need to work together against our enemy. Every man and boy, twelve years and older, is needed. First of all, the women and children must be taken to safety immediately. The older men can assist. Tell the women to take only what is necessary and what they can pack in one hour’s time. Later, if possible, other important belongings can be carried out. The best refuge is our hilltop camp. It will house them sufficiently until the danger is over.”

  Armando cleared his throat. “I have an idea on how we can deter the stampeding cattle and keep our village from being destroyed. There is but one way the cattle can be driven into the valley, and we must be ready for them. If every available man is positioned behind a barrier with a gun or some method of loud noise, we can possibly turn the cattle.”

  “We have few good weapons,” Felipe pointed out. “The 1757 muskets, carbines, and pistols were returned to Señor Phillips. Belduques—large, heavy knives—are not noise makers.”

  Armando ignored Felipe’s cynicism and looked for any others who wished to speak. “We will need the remainder of the day to line the area with wagons, carts, rocks, and whatever else we might need.”

  The crowd murmured until Pepe stood. “Armando has good ideas, but I would like for you to consider something else. In addition to what he has suggested, a herd of mustangs driven against the cattle would also force them to turn.”

  “Why not stampede our cattle against them?” a man asked.

  Armando cringed with the thought. “By running our cattle against theirs, we risk losing them all. Pepe is wise to consider the use of mustangs. Even if we lose the horses, we can still feed our families.”

  “What good are the cattle if we are dead?” Emilo asked.

  “You are right. We shall stampede the horses and the cattle behind them.” Armando clasped Emilio’s shoulder. “You are wise, mi amigo.”

  The crowd agreed, and Armando seized the opportunity to get started. He handpicked a dozen men to stay behind and plan the barrier while the others returned to their homes to alert the women.

  “Help your women until you are assigned a duty from one of these twelve,” he told them. “Remember, one hour for the women to gather up belongings, and these things must be hand carried or packed on burros to take out of the valley. What few carts and wagons we have must be used to transport the sick and lame and then used for the barricade.”

  The crowd quickly disbanded, and Armando stared grimly at the men before him. Some were loyal to Felipe. Others sided with Armando. Hours of backbreaking work lay ahead, and unless they all cast aside their personal differences, the village would not be ready in time.

  “Are we together on this endeavor?” he asked.

  The men either nodded or voiced their agreement.

  He selected four men from the original twelve to begin the evacuation and gave them instructions on how to most easily move the women and children. Armando chose one man from the remaining eight to make sure the village moved as much food as possible. Even after the stampede was stopped, the villagers would not be able to return until all threat of danger had passed.

  For every three families, an older man assumed the role of leader, keeping track of the number in his group. Older children were needed to return to the village and assist with the barrier until dusk.

  Armando placed Pepe, Felipe, and Emilio in charge of moving the mustangs from a nearby canyon, but the task could wait until later in the afternoon. Right now, he needed help to build a wall on the eastern ridge.

  Raking his fingers through his hair, Armando sensed the blood rushing through his veins and spurring his body and mind. If they couldn’t finish preparations by nightfall, the village would be destroyed.

  Chapter 27

  Armando watched as Marianne mounted the hill where young and old worked diligently to build a barrier against the evening’s raid. Carrying a jug of cool water, she stopped several times to offer a drink to those perspiring in the heat. He watched her slow ascent. Twice before she’d headed his way, only to be stopped by those who needed their thirst quenched. This time she’d reach him.

  He shielded his eyes from the noonday sun and took in the amount of work completed. The progress pleased him. The women and children were safe in the hills, although many had returned to fetch additional possessions, to cook for those working, and to help with the barricade. Marianne had labored side by side with the villagers, just as she had done the night of the fire.

  He captured her attention, and a smile passed between them. The mere glimpse of her eased his spirit. They’d not talked since dawn. In one breath, he regretted admitting his love for her. Nothing could become of his confession but heartache for both of them. She must still marry the don as planned. He saw no other alternative.

  “Hola,” Marianne said as she neared him. She quickened her steps and offered him her jug. “I have water for you.”

  “Bueno.” He reached for the container and drank deeply. All the while he observed her, the paleness of her skin and the hint of pink to her cheeks. A smudge of dirt marked her forehead, reminding him of Indian war paint.

  “So many people are helping.” She glanced about. “The wall will be finished long before dark.”

  He nodded and rested the jug on the ground. “Let’s walk a bit. I want to look for weak points in the barricade, and we need to talk.”

  Her lovely features clouded. “All right.”

  He grasped her hand and they moved away from those around them. “You cannot stay here, mi señorita,” he said. “This is too dangerous.”

  “I want to help,” she said. “I cannot bear to leave you.”

  Sighing, he stopped and searched her eyes for understanding. He would not risk the life of his beloved. If she stayed, he wouldn’t have the strength to
make her leave when the turmoil of the day ended. But would she be able to put up with his restlessness?

  “Armando?” She touched his arm. “I belong with you.”

  “In this?” He gestured at the busy throng of villagers. Irritation grated at him.

  “Si,” she said. “I love you and you alone.”

  He softened at her declaration and ached to hold her. Armando lifted her chin with his finger. “Without your bravery, these people would have perished tonight. I owe you my life for your single act of courage, but I’m still afraid that we cannot hold back the stampede.”

  She turned to watch the work. “I know, and I’m causing you more trouble with my insistence on remaining here.”

  “No, not trouble, but concern.” He hesitated and dropped his hand to his side. “With all that has gone on today, I need to see a priest and make my confession, but it’s impossible. I cannot leave my people.” He hesitated. “I have turned my back on Dios for too long. Now my people need a miracle.”

  “Do you believe you must see a priest?”

  Her question bristled him. He knew she believed in Dios, but she sounded ignorant of the way of faith. Then again, she practiced the Protestant religion, and he knew nothing of its doctrine. “I need forgiveness of my sins,” he said.

  She tilted her head slightly. “Why not go to Dios and ask Him to relieve the burdens from your heart?”

  “For forgiveness, I need to make confession,” he repeated.

  She nodded. “I know you once studied to be a priest. And I see the unrest in your spirit. Only the love of Dios and the acceptance of His Son Jesus Christ into your life can give you peace.”

  “You are not a padre who has been educated in the way of the church.” Instantly he regretted his harsh words. “Oh, Marianne, I’m sorry. You are the last one who needs to taste my bitterness.”

  She touched his cheek. “For a moment, listen to me. Jesus Christ is my Lord and King. When I acknowledged what He’d done for me and asked Him to live forever in my heart, He forgave my sins. Because He gave His life for me, I love Him and follow Him the best way I can. All of us are saved by His grace. Thank Him for sending His Son to die for you, ask Him to forgive your sins, and He in turn will give you eternal life…and peace.”