Feeling Dona Anna's eyes burning into her and not wanting to watch the doctor stitch up Marquis's leg, Valentina kept her eyes trained on her husband's face. She wondered if he was dreaming. What was he thinking of as he floated in a world of limbo? She prayed he felt no pain.
After the doctor had finished stitching his leg, he wrapped it in clean bandages. "I do not believe this leg is broken, so I am not going to replace the splint," he said to Valentina and Dona Anna. "Since the leg is infected, I want to elevate it above his heart. Bring me several pillows so I can prop it up."
Dona Anna sailed out of the room to bring pillows, and Valentina turned to the doctor with inquiring eyes. "How bad is the infection?" she wanted to know.
"It is too soon to tell." Then he turned his attention to the other leg. "This one was badly crushed. I don't know if it will heal properly or if there was nerve damage. It could be that he will never be able to walk again. I just don't know. I will stay here tonight in case he takes a turn for the worse."
Valentina felt herself swaying and gripped the bedpost. "Dear God, no," she whispered. "Don't punish Marquis for my willfulness."
Now Don Alonso joined them beside Marquis's bed. His tired old eyes were not as bright as they had been the last time Valentina had seen him. His hand, resting on the cane, trembled. "Do you foresee any complications?" Don Alonso inquired.
"I just cannot speculate. Marquis has lost a good deal of blood, his leg is infected, and he is unconscious. I will not give you false hope . . . this is serious."
Valentina felt Don Alonso's hand on her shoulder, and she reached up, gripping it for courage. "I will not believe that Marquis will never walk, Doctor Anza. He must walk!" Valentina cried.
"I am saying I do not know," the doctor repeated. "I have noticed there is no feeling in Marquis's legs now. This is a very critical sign."
"He has been in a great deal of pain, Doctor. How can it be that he has lost the feeling in his legs?" Valentina asked.
"Who can say? This is a wait-and-see game."
Don Alonso seemed to have aged ten years in a short space of time. "Is his life in danger?"
"Perhaps," the doctor answered grimly.
Don Alonso lowered his head, and Valentina turned to him. He seemed to go limp against her, and she helped him into a nearby chair. Going down on her knees, she patted his hand. "Do not worry, Don Alonso, Marquis will not die, and he will walk. I know this in my heart, and I believe you do too."
The old grandee's eyes searched her face, and he suddenly smiled. "This is not much of a welcome for you, is it, child?"
"It was a far less happy homecoming for Marquis," she told Don Alonso.
Marquis's grandfather glanced in the doctor's direction. "Doctor Agustin Anza, you know this young lady. Welcome her now as my new granddaughter-in-law, Valentina Vincente. Valentina, I am sure you know that Agustin is not only our doctor, but a good friend as well."
Valentina looked into the soft, kind eyes of the doctor. Since Valentina had seen him last, he had grown a trim little mustache. He had been washing his hands, and he turned around to pick up a towel. Moving forward, he took Valentina by the shoulders and raised her to her feet. He then surprised her by squeezing her in a tight hug.
"Sorry that we became reacquainted under such sad circumstances, but it allowed me to see what you were made of. You handled yourself very well a while ago." His eyes were twinkling, and Valentina knew he was referring to her standing up to Dona Anna as well as assisting him. "Tell me, Valentina, does your ankle ever bother you?" he asked.
She smiled. "No, I had a good doctor tending me. I have never had a moment's pain from it."
Doctor Agustin turned to Don Alonso. "This beautiful lady is too good for Marquis. I should have seen her first."
"That is what I think too, but she's probably too good for you and me also."
Valentina was only half listening to the conversation. Her eyes kept drifting back to Marquis. Walking over to him, she touched his forehead and found he still had fever. Her attention was drawn away from her husband as Dona Anna entered carrying an armload of pillows.
Doctor Anza arranged the pillows to his satisfaction and then turned back to the others. "Marquis will need someone with him all night to make sure he does not thrash about and reopen his stitches."
"I will stay with my son," Dona Anna spoke up, her dark eyes daring Valentina to object.
Valentina knew she had asserted her claim as Marquis's wife; now she could afford to be charitable to his mother. More than anything, she wanted to be beside Marquis throughout this critical night, but she also realized what his mother must be feeling.
"I will relieve you about six," Valentina said. "If you need me before then, I will not be sleeping."
Dona Anna turned away, saying nothing further to her new daughter-in-law. Valentina realized at that moment that she would have to win the older woman's respect before she gained her friendship. After the way the woman had treated her today, she was not at all sure if it would be worth the effort.
Feeling tired and drained, Valentina turned to Don Alonso. "I would like to bathe and rest for awhile, if someone will show me to my room."
The old grandee cast a look at Dona Anna, knowing she was deliberately snubbing Marquis's wife. It was not like her to be so uncharitable, but then her position had never before been challenged by an outsider—an English woman. "Forgive us all for not making you welcome in your new home," he said, raising his voice so it would reach the ears of his dead son's wife. "I am sure you will find Rosalia waiting outside the door to assist you. She will be happy to show you to your room."
Valentina bent down and placed a kiss on Marquis's brow. He was so still. Her heart ached for what he had suffered, and for what he might yet have to endure. She did not want to leave him. Suppose he were to die! she cried inwardly. Raising her head, she allowed the others to see the tears that were running down her face.
"Forgive me," she sobbed aloud, rushing across the room and out the door. Finding the hallway empty, she collapsed onto a sofa and let the tears flow freely. What would she do if she lost Marquis? He might not love her, but he was her husband and the father of her unborn baby. Her place was beside him, but she knew his mother would never allow her to take that place without a fight. For now, Valentina was fresh out of fight. She was ready to crumple.
Feeling comforting arms go around her, Valentina heard Rosalia's voice. "Come, you are weary. I will see that you have all you require."
Valentina allowed Rosalia to lead her to the room next door to Marquis's. The day had been endless, and she was emotionally drained and physically exhausted. She dropped down on the yellow-draped bed, feeling her body conform to the soft mattress.
"I must take a bath," she said, trying to rise but finding it too much effort.
Rosalia removed Valentina's shoes and pulled a light coverlet over her. "You rest; the bath can wait."
"I want to be awakened in an hour. I want to be awake in case Marquis regains consciousness."
"If you are needed, I will wake you," Rosalia promised, quietly leaving the room and closing the door softly behind her.
Dona Anna looked at her father-in-law, knowing he was displeased with her. "Do not tell me you were taken in by the girl's tears? She does not care for my son or she would never have allowed him to endanger his life. It is her fault that my Marquis may die or become a cripple."
Don Alonso cared deeply for his dead son's wife, but he knew she could sometimes be a hard, unbending woman—especially where her son was concerned. "I do not think it was out of the ordinary for Valentina to cry, Anna. After all, today was her wedding, her husband is gravely ill, and she is spending her wedding night alone."
"I will not leave Marquis tonight," Dona Anna declared. "If he dies, the English woman will become a very wealthy widow. Have you thought of that?"
Don Alonso stood up and slowly walked to the door. "No, I had not thought of that and I do not believe Valentina has
either. I saw love in her eyes as she stood over Marquis. One day I may tell you how fortunate you are that your son married this English woman and not Isabel Estrada."
"Isabel is of our kind. She would have made a far better wife for Marquis," Dona Anna stated airily.
"Why belabor the point. That will never happen now. I suggest you look to your son, senora. Leave his personal life for him to settle when he recovers."
Dona Anna ignored the opening and closing of the door. Only when she was alone with her son did she allow the tears to fall. Her son, her precious son, had betrayed his heritage by taking the English woman as his bride. She touched his face, fearing she would lose him—if not to death, then to Valentina. She had the feeling that Marquis's new wife would try to cut her out of her son's life completely.
In the room next door to Valentina, Marquis thrashed on his bed of pain, his body burning as if it were on fire.
"Silver Eyes," he cried out, needing to feel the soothing hand of his beloved cooling his fevered brow. "I love you," he whispered. In his nightmare world, he yearned for the touch of Valentina's hand, the sound of her voice.
"Sleep, my son," Dona Anna told him, not understanding his rambling or the name he mumbled. "I will stay with you," she promised.
The bright California moon moved across the ebony sky, shining down on Valentina's wedding night, spreading its light into her bedroom. The gentle glow fell across her face without disturbing her sleep. It was a lover's moon, hung in the sky as though a gift for the newly married couple.
As the moonlight filtered across the darkened shadows of the room, Valentina moaned in her sleep, trying to wake, knowing there was something she had to do, somewhere she had to be. Fighting against the drugged sleep that claimed her as its victim, Valentina called out Marquis's name to the silent room.
On the floor, beside Valentina's bed, lay the crumpled wedding bouquet—its sweet aroma fading, the blossoms wilted and dying.
23
Valentina tossed and turned on the bed as her dream turned into a nightmare. She was running from something, but she could not see what it was. The more frightened she became, the more her legs felt like heavy weights and the more difficult it was to run. Suddenly her back was against a wall, and she could go no farther. A swirling mist clung to the air, and whatever it was that had been pursuing her was hiding there. Moaning, she turned over in her sleep.
The dream continued as she glanced down at her feet to see Marquis lying wounded and unconscious. That was when she realized that the horrible thing that had been chasing her was not after her at all—it wanted Marquis! From out of nowhere a sword came sailing through the air to land in Valentina's hand. Gripping the handle, she wielded the sword over her head, determined she would defend Marquis with her last breath. Thrusting the sword forward, she heard a hideous roar and knew she had mortally wounded the faceless, nameless demon.
Going down on her knees, she hugged Marquis to her. He was all right; she had saved him. "You haven't saved him," a deep, raspy voice told her. "It is because of you that he must die: You are the instrument of his death!"
"No," Valentina moaned. "No, I would never harm Marquis; I love him."
Fighting her way out of the nightmare, she jerked upright in bed, coming fully awake. It took several moments for her thundering heart to return to normal. The bedroom was illuminated by the bright moonlight, and she remembered that she was at Paraiso del Norte.
Valentina feared the nightmare might very well become true, and Marquis might die. Finding she was fully clothed, she slipped out of bed, pushed into her shoes, and hurried out the bedroom door.
The hallway was aglow with several candelabra, arranged on low tables. Valentina paused for just a moment before Marquis's bedroom before opening the door. His room was mostly in shadows, with only the light of a single candle burning. Valentina did not see Dona Anna until she heard the whispered prayer. Marquis's mother was on her knees, her folded hands clasping a rosary.
For a moment, Valentina stood silently, not wanting to disturb Dona Anna at her prayer. Looking at Marquis, she thought his condition appeared the same as when she had left earlier. Needing to feel close to Marquis's mother so they could share their fear, she walked soundlessly across the room. Touching Marquis's face, she thought he felt cooler.
Dona Anna finally realized she was not alone and tossed Valentina a heated glance. "I do not need you to relieve me. Go back to bed. I will stay with my son," the older woman declared.
Valentina dropped down on her knees, taking Marquis's hand in hers. "I do not want to relieve you, Dona Anna. I merely want to pray with you. Perhaps God will hear us better if we both ask him to save Marquis."
Marquis's mother nodded slowly, willing to accept any spiritual help to save her son. Turning back to her prayer, she paid little attention to her new daughter-in-law. It was not in her nature to send someone away when she wanted to pray—not even the English woman.
Hours slipped by, and still the two women remained on their knees, praying for Marquis's recovery. After awhile, Valentina noticed that Dona Anna had fallen asleep with her head resting on the bed, her hands still clasped in prayer. She did not know what time it was, but her body was stiff and cold, and her back ached painfully.
Valentina was about to release Marquis's hand so she could rub her aching neck muscles when she felt his fingers tighten on hers. Slowly she stood up, fearing she had only imagined his firm grip. When she found his eyes open, Valentina's joy and relief showed on her face.
Bending over him, she laid her hand on his brow. "Are you in pain, Marquis?" she asked softly, hoping he would have some kind of feeling in his legs.
"How did I get here?" he wanted to know. "The last thing I remember was standing before the priest. Are we man and wife?"
Valentina brushed her tears away and nodded, realizing Marquis still clutched her hand. "Yes, I am your wife. You have been very ill, but you will get better now." She nodded toward his mother, who still slept with her head resting on the bed. "Your mother's prayers probably went as far as the doctor's medicine in healing you.
Marquis closed his eyes—he could rest now. Valentina belonged to him; she was his wife. He did not want to think about anything just yet; he was too tired. He only wanted to sleep. He was not even aware that there was no longer any pain in his legs. He did not realize that there was no feeling at all. He obediently allowed Valentina to lift his head and give him a cooling drink of water.
"How long has it been since we left the mission?" he asked.
"Only yesterday," she answered. "You have been asleep most of the time."
"This should have been your wedding night," he replied in a drowsy whisper. Already a calming, peaceful sleep was overtaking him, and he did not see Valentina's tears as they fell freely down her face.
"Silver eyes that haunt my dreams," Marquis whispered sleepily. "Silver eyes . . . silver eyes," he muttered over and over.
Valentina's heart was singing with happiness. Marquis was going to live!
Going down on her knees, she gently shook Dona Anna. When the older woman's eyes snapped open, she quickly started murmuring a prayer. "It's going to be all right, Dona Anna," Valentina said. "Marquis woke for just a moment. He is cooler and sleeps the sleep of healing."
The older woman tried to stand, but her legs gave way under her and she grabbed the bedpost, unable to move. Valentina placed her hand around Dona Anna's waist and helped her to her feet, thinking how devotedly Marquis's mother had watched over her son.
Dona Anna stumbled forward and touched her son's face to satisfy herself that his fever had broken. Her cheeks were glistening with tears as she picked up Marquis's hand and kissed it. "God has been merciful," she said. "He has given my son back to me."
Valentina could see Dona Anna swaying on her feet and knew she must get her to bed or she would collapse. Placing a guiding arm about her shoulder, she spoke kindly. "I will stay with Marquis now. Allow me to take you to your room. I promise
I will let you know the moment there is any change in Marquis's condition."
"I cannot leave him," Dona Anna argued. "He may wake up and need me."
"He will always need you, Dona Anna, but he will need you more in the days to come. Right now, he is sleeping peacefully and I doubt that he will wake for hours. Get some rest so you can be with him later."
Dona Anna's eyes searched Valentina's face. Seeing no malice there but rather genuine concern, she let her shoulders droop and she nodded her acceptance of Valentina's statement. "I will go to my room now. As you have done, I will only sleep for a short time."
Valentina saw the fire that snapped briefly in Dona Anna's eyes and realized she still had not accepted her as Marquis's wife. She dreaded the confrontations that were yet to come. She vowed for Marquis's sake that she would make every effort to maintain peace with his mother.
"Will you allow me to help you to your room, Dona Anna?" Valentina asked.
"No, you stay with my son. Do not fall asleep in case he needs you, and do not leave this room. I hope you are capable of tending someone who is ill."
Valentina could have reminded Dona Anna that she, herself, had fallen asleep moments ago. She could also have reminded her that she had tended her mother who was ill, but she saw nothing to be gained by prolonging the conversation. Dona Anna's voice carried the ring of a commanding officer. Valentina had never before met anyone like Dona Anna, but she was determined not to lose her temper with the woman. At the moment they were both tired and under a great deal of strain. Their tempers were frayed.
"I will not fall asleep, Dona Anna," she promised. "Rest, with the assurance that I will send for you if I need help."
Marquis's mother moved slowly across the room, as if she were reluctant to leave her son alone with Valentina. After she had gone, Valentina pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down. She did not know what time it was, but the moon was riding low and the morning star was fading in the ebony skies.
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