by Connie Mason
From that moment on, Julie’s recovery was rapid. Within three days she was able to get out of bed and take her meals with the padre. It was the first time he had seen her alone since she gave birth.
“What have you named your son, señora?” he asked pleasantly.
Julie had been giving a name for her baby much thought. “I’d like to name him Carl after my father,” she replied, smiling, when she considered her father’s reaction to his namesake.
“Carlos is a fine name,” beamed Padre Enrico, “but shouldn’t you name him after your husband?”
Julie flushed. So far the padre had asked no questions of her concerning her unorthodox appearance at the mission and she wished to keep it that way.
“I had thought to name him Carl Rodrigo,” she added hastily.
The padre shrugged, then said, “Your husband should be here shortly. I sent for him when you arrived so unexpectedly. He will be happy to learn of his son’s birth.”
Julie went pale, her face drained of all color. “You … you’ve sent for my husband?” she stammered helplessly.
“Si, mi hija. I have asked nothing of the circumstances that brought you here, nor shall I. What happened is between you and your husband. If either of you wish my counsel, you have only to ask. In the meantime you and your son are safe here with me until your husband arrives.”
Later, alone in her small cubical nursing little Carl, Julie’s emotions warred with one another. In the days since she had left the hacienda she had been given sufficient opportunity to think about what Elena had told her and reflect on everything she had seen with her own eyes. In the end, she came to regret the haste in which she had left the rancho without allowing Rod the opportunity to explain. Like a willful child she had fled without a thought for her own safety or that of her child. Rod’s child. She could have at least consulted her father instead of impulsively running away and placing herself in all kinds of danger. Would Rod ever forgive her, she wondered bleakly? She would soon find out.
There was absolutely no doubt in Julie’s mind that Rod wanted his child despite the fact that he already had a son by Elena. During her long hours spent pondering her dilemma, Julie was certain of one thing: she would never willingly give up her son to Rod or to anyone else. He was the most important thing in her life. She could not bear to be separated from him. She knew that Rod had the right to take Carl away from her should she choose to leave him, and that she couldn’t live with. She would not have her son raised by Elena who was sure to take Julie’s place in Rod’s life the moment she left.
And what of her own feelings, Julie reflected painfully? She loved Rod. She would always love him. Could she be satisfied with the crumbs of his affection while Elena feasted in the limelight of his love? There was also Felicia to consider. Elena would make Felicia’s life a living hell. The woman’s jealousy knew no bounds, respected no age limits, Julie told herself bitterly. After days of wrestling with her emotions, Julie came to the painful conclusion that for the sake of her son and Felicia she would return to Rancho Delgado and resume her role as Rod’s wife, living on the edge of his affections to the best of her ability. But she’d be damned if she’d allow Elena to defeat her. As long as she remained Rod’s wife, Julie pledged with grim determination, she would fight to make him love her.
Julie was shocked when her father arrived accompanied by a vaquero, her mind registering the fact that Rod did not care enough about her and their son to come himself. Sobbing happily, she rushed into Carl Darcy’s open arms.
“Julie, Julie,” Carl scolded gently, “whatever made you leave like that? Rodrigo was sick with worry when he found you missing.”
“If Rod was so worried,” choked Julie angrily, “he would have come himself.”
“Rodrigo has been out searching for you since he discovered you were missing. The last I heard he was in San Francisco.” Julie was deeply hurt by the note of censure in Carl’s voice. How could he condone what Rod did to her while condemning her for retaliating in the only way open to her? Perhaps he did not know about Elena. If not, it was time someone told him, Julie decided perversely.
“Papa, you haven’t seen your namesake yet,” Julie said proudly. “Come to my room and I’ll try to explain everything to you.”
Carl was duly impressed with his first grandson. He thought the child looked much like Rod with his dark coloring and crisp black hair and he told Julie as much.
“I’m sure Rod will be pleased with Carlos,” she said tersely, using the Spanish form of the name. Somehow it seemed natural. “But were you aware that Elena has also given Rod a son? That they are lovers?” She waited for shock to register on her father’s face and when none came she was puzzled. “Papa, did you hear me? Elena is Rod’s mistress!”
Carl sighed heavily. It should be up to Rod to clear up this matter with his wife, he thought wearily, but he knew he could not let Julie live under the misconception that her husband had been unfaithful when it was within Carl’s power to tell her the truth.
“Daughter, did you know Manuel, the vaquero who often worked with the horses on the rancho?”
“Yes, Papa, but what does Manuel have to do with this?”
“Everything. Manuel fathered Elena’s child while he still worked on the rancho.”
“Oh, no, Papa, I’m sure you are wrong! Elena would never … not with a vaquero. She is too proud. Did … did Rod tell you this?”
“No, Julie. Manuel told me. He and Elena were married by Padre Juan shortly before his son was born. She coerced him into helping her perpetrate the foul deception you witnessed.”
“What … what kind of deception?” Julie asked, already certain of the answer.
Carl proceeded to tell Julie all that Manuel had revealed when he returned to the rancho, including the information that Elena had left him and their child.
“It’s difficult to believe she would do such a thing,” Julie said, shaking her head sadly. “Are … are you certain he didn’t make it all up?”
“For what purpose? No, Julie, it is the truth. I even brought Manuel with me for the express purpose of telling you himself, should you refuse to believe me.”
When Julie heard Manuel’s words she was surprised that Rod had allowed him to live, let alone return to the rancho, until she remembered Elena’s child would be both motherless and fatherless without Manuel. Even though Rod now knew why she had left so suddenly, Julie couldn’t help but wonder what his feelings would be when she finally faced him. Would he be angry with her, blame her for putting his child in danger? Knowing well his temper, she almost feared his reaction.
Carl wished to start back to the rancho the moment Julie felt strong enough to travel. For Julie it couldn’t be soon enough. Though she was still weak and tired easily, she was anxious to face Rod and learn what his feelings were for her. But mostly, she wanted to present his son to him.
Carl and Manuel had driven a wagon from the rancho in order that Julie and the baby might ride in relative comfort on their trip homeward. The moment Julie insisted she was recovered sufficiently to travel, Carl agreed they should leave immediately. So as not to tire the new mother, Carl decided to break their trip into easy stages, staying each night at one of the missions. Their first stop, according to Carl’s planning, would be La Soledad Mission, an easy few hours’ journey.
When Julie, cradling Carlos in her arms, Manuel and Carl left the next morning, it couldn’t have been a more perfect day. Though the sun had not yet risen, glorious streaks of mauve and scarlet colored the eastern sky. There was no wind, nothing to give the slightest hint of the disaster that nature was about to unleash upon them.
The small party of travelers were made welcome by the wizened padre at La Soledad who fed them the best he had to offer and provided each with a bed. After feeding Carlos, Julie removed her dress and lay down on the narrow cot thinking she was one day closer to Rod and Rancho Delgado, the only real home she had known in years.
The first tremors caused litt
le concern to the occupants of La Soledad. Earthquakes were common along the St. Andreas fault and at most were minor irritations. Seldom did a tremor of major proportions cause an upheaval in their placid lives at the mission.
But when the rumbling did not cease, in fact grew louder and more ominous, it became apparent that this was not a minor earthquake that could be so easily ignored. Carl awoke to find his cot sliding across the stone floor. He knew immediately what was happening for he had experienced many earthquakes when he rode with Murieta. Fortunately, none of them proved serious. But one thing he did learn. It was unsafe to remain inside the brick and adobe building for they could be hopelessly buried beneath the walls that gave them shelter.
Carl’s main concern was for Julie and his grandson. He ran into the dark hallway just as Manuel, the same idea crossing his mind, careened around the corner. Together they burst into Julie’s room. Dazed and confused, Julie barely heeded her father’s words as he urged her up and out of bed.
“Hurry, Julie, we must get out of here! There is great danger.”
“What … what is it, Papa?”
“An earthquake. Hurry! We could be buried alive at any moment.”
“Oh, God! Carlos! My baby!”
“Manuel has him. Come,” he said, dragging her by the hand. “Follow me.”
Julie held back to look for her dress but Carl rudely pulled her forward, grabbing a blanket from the cot in passing. “Leave your clothes. We’ve no time.” Barefoot, clothed in nothing but her thin shift, Julie and Carl ran headlong through the deserted mission only steps behind Manuel carrying baby Carlos who was loudly protesting his rude awakening.
Only when they reached a gully that lay beyond the mission walls did they stop. The ground beneath their feet heaved and rolled until Julie felt herself reeling. All around them fissures opened up swallowing whole portions of landscape, shrubs, trees, and before Julie’s startled eyes a whole hillside seemed to disappear. It was the closest to hell she had ever been.
Throwing the blanket around Julie’s shaking shoulders, Carl settled her in the gully and quickly sized up the situation. If they were lucky enough to survive the earthquake, Julie would need transportation. She had been forced to flee shoeless and barely clothed into the night and was not yet fully recovered from childbirth. Her survival, and that of his grandson, lay squarely on his shoulders, but Carl calmly accepted his responsibility and acted immediately.
It became increasingly evident to Carl that he and Manuel must return to the mission for the horse and wagon they had brought from the rancho. The stables were only a short distance from the mission itself and it should take them no time at all to harness the horses and lead the wagon to safety beyond the crumbling walls. Perhaps the worst was over.
Julie begged her father not to leave her when he explained what he must do. “Don’t go back there, Papa. I’m afraid. I don’t need the wagon, truly.”
“I’ll be fine, darling,” Carl assured her. “Ten minutes and I’ll be back here with you.” He took the baby from Manuel’s arms and gave him to Julie, saying, “You’ve made me very proud, daughter. Carlos is a fine boy.” Then he placed a tender kiss on both their foreheads and retraced his steps back toward the mission.
As they entered the gates, the insistent rumbling took on a different tone and Carl hurried their steps, realizing that the worst was yet to come. They reached the stables without mishap and between them managed to quiet the frightened horses and harness them to the wagon in order to lead them out of the stables. Just as they drew abreast of the doors of the church, they heard the padre calling out weakly to them. Halting, Carl peered inside and saw the frail priest attempting to lift an injured Indian woman to carry her out into the open. Without a thought for his own safety, Carl motioned Manuel to remain with the horses while he bounded off to help the padre rescue one of his flock.
Carl succeeded in getting both the padre and the injured woman out of the church and into the wagon, but suddenly the whole world seemed to explode beneath his feet as a shock wave rose up out of the bowels of the earth. Before his eyes the already weakened walls of the church crumbled down around him. They might still have escaped injury if they had been able to control the horses and lead the wagon away from danger. But it all happened so swiftly that no one had a chance to react to the danger.
The walls began to crumble as the small group watched in horrified fascination, mesmerized by the impending doom as the huge belltower atop the church began its inexorable descent downward. The hapless victims were trapped by their leaden feet as tons upon tons of adobe and brick descended upon them. Only Carl had the presence of mind to turn at the last minute and run. His quick action saved his life.
Terror-stricken, Julie watched helplessly as the walls of the mission crumbled to the ground as if they were made of sand. “Papa! Papa!” she cried out mindlessly, clutching Carlos to her breast until his startled cries brought her back to sanity.
Anxiously she watched for her father’s trim figure to appear but the longer she waited, the more evident it became that he wasn’t coming. The last tremor that destroyed the mission proved to be the final indignity in a series of shock waves, making Julie suddenly aware of the ominous silence surrounding her. Not even the sounds of small animals or birds could be heard in the gloom.
Cautiously, Julie left the relative safety of the gully her father had placed her in and gazed with shocked eyes at the changes wrought by the forces of nature. In some places wide gaps appeared as yawning gashes in the earth. The devastation to the mission itself was beyond repair for nothing remained of the sturdy adobe and brick walls.
Driven by the desire to learn her father’s fate, Julie gingerly picked her way over the rough terrain and approached the pile of rubble, her heart beating raggedly in her breast. God, don’t let anything happen to my father, she cried in silent supplication. She needed him! Ramona needed him! The few short months with his new wife were hardly enough to make up for all his years of loneliness. It wasn’t fair!
By the time Julie reached the church her feet were cut and bleeding, somewhere she had lost the blanket her father had tenderly draped about her shoulders and she knew a moment of despair. She spied the remains of the wagon first, and then saw the dead horses still harnessed to the rig. She came upon Manuel’s inert body half-buried in the debris. She was hysterical with grief and fear. Only baby Carlos, held tightly to her breasts, prevented her from losing her tenuous hold on sanity when further investigation revealed her father’s still form lying a short distance from the mass of rubble.
Carefully placing the baby out of harm’s way, Julie began clawing at the pieces of adobe and brick in an effort to drag her father to safety. Pulling him away from the debris she knelt by his side and was relieved to see the steady rise and fall of his chest. There was a nasty gash on his head and his left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, but at least he was alive. The sound of Carl’s moaning was like music to her ears.
“Papa! Speak to me!” Julie begged. “How badly are you hurt?”
Slowly Carl opened his eyes, his right hand going to his head as he groaned, “My head, it hurts.”
“Don’t move, Papa,” Julie advised. “I think your left arm is broken. I don’t know what to do.”
“What about Manuel and the others?”
“Manuel is dead. I … I see no others.” What Julie couldn’t know was that the padre and an unidentified Indian woman lay beneath tons of debris.
“Leave me, Julie, go for help,” Carl gritted out from between clenched teeth. “Take the baby and go on to the next mission. “I’ll be fine until help arrives.”
“I can’t leave you, Papa,” Julie shook her head stubbornly.
“You have to, honey, think of the baby. I’m in no immediate danger.”
Though reluctant to leave him alone and unprotected, Julie saw the wisdom of her father’s words. His life depended on her. So did her child’s. Locating the blanket she had dropped earlier, she tenderly co
vered him, then kissed his forehead.
“I’ll be back, Papa,” she promised fervently. “I’ll bring help back.”
“Be careful, Julie,” Carl called after her. “God go with you.”
Determined to bring her son safely to his father as well as seek help for her own parent, Julie gathered up the baby and hobbled off, unconcerned about the pitiful condition of her bare feet which were bruised and bleeding from walking over the sharp rocks strewn about the ground in the aftermath of the earthquake.
Though the going was slow and painful, Julie walked steadily, unaware of the drops of blood staining the ground behind her. She stopped only long enough to nurse Carlos, thankful that her milk supply was still plentiful enough to safistfy her son’s voracious appetite. For herself, there was nothing but water taken from a muddy stream where she paused to cool and soothe her aching feet.
When night approached Julie began searching for shelter, wise enough to realize the necessity of putting herself and her child out of reach of wild animals. If her luck held, she should reach the next mission sometime tomorrow.
Just as dusk crept away on silent feet of darkness, and Julie began to despair of finding a safe haven in which to pass the night, she spied a narrow cleft between two rocks that appeared just large enough to squeeze through. Her hasty investigation proved it to be a narrow cave with no signs of its former occupants. Heaving a sigh of relief she slid easily into the crevice, thinking it would provide a measure of warmth as well as protection from wild animals. Shifting her ill-clad body into a comfortable position in the small space, it took no time at all for Julie to realize how cold she really was as shivers shook her small form. She spared a moment thinking about the blanket she had left with her father, but knew he needed it more than she did. Sighing regretfully, she curled into a ball and prepared to feed her son who by now was wailing for his supper, his tiny face screwed up until he resembled an old, toothless man.
After nursing Carlos, Julie carefully examined her feet. With a twinge she realized she would not be able to walk on them for several days, perhaps never if they became infected. But for the sake of her father and son she would crawl on hands and knees for help, Julie vowed, tears of frustration and pain marking grooves down her grimy cheeks. Cold, exhausted, so hungry her stomach rebelled violently, Julie fell into a fitful sleep. Her dreams were terrifying. In them Rod’s stern visage appeared before her, angry, accusing, unforgiving. Sometime during the long night her sleep became deeper, her weakness and exhaustion taking her beyond the bounds of sleep, past reality where pain did not exist. Julie slipped easily into unconsciousness.