“And gulls distracted you?” His employer’s expression told Brian he found that unbelievable.
“No, sir. It wasn’t the gulls, although I did enjoy watching them.” Brian could feel heat flood his face. “I knew their presence meant we weren’t too far from shore.” He gulped.
“I’m afraid I was partly to blame.” At the sound of her voice, both men turned their attention to Angelina. “I was out on deck that day with Aunt Elena.”
Her father took her hand in his. “Didn’t the captain place a privacy curtain to protect you from the eyes of the crew?”
“Yes.” Angelina looked up at her father sitting beside her.
“But I was in the crow’s nest, sir. And I could see behind the curtain.”
Brian had just finished his sentence when Angelina added, “I knew he was up there watching, and I moved to stand by the railing so I could be in plain sight.”
Señor Fuente frowned at Brian. “You were distracted by my daughter?”
“I know there’s no excuse for it.” Brian placed both feet on the floor and clasped his hands in front of his waist. “I’ve felt a great amount of guilt over allowing us to be overtaken by the pirates. I hold myself completely responsible, and I know I can never make it up to you for losing your favorite ship or allowing Angelina to fall into the clutches of that brigand.” Brian hung his head.
His employer stood and walked to the window to stare toward the ocean in the distance. “Captain Herrera told me that the pirate schooner is a very fast sailing ship. And the Angelina Star had every hold loaded down with cargo. There is probably no way she could have outrun the other vessel. I don’t hold you responsible in any way.”
Brian glanced at Angelina. Her smile lit his heart.
Señor Fuente turned his back on the window. “Do we need to discuss my daughter? I saw the way the two of you looked at each other during supper.”
Brian stood and crossed the room. “I did want to talk to you about her. I thought I would wait until we were alone.”
“Angelina, go to your room.” Brian was surprised by his employer’s words and the tone of his voice.
She must have been, too. Angelina stood and stared defiantly at her father. “No. I am no longer a child. I want to hear what the two of you have to say about me.”
Señor Fuente nodded. “I thought you would.” When he smiled at his daughter, she relaxed and gave him a hug. He turned to Brian. “Now, what did you want to talk about?”
Once again, Brian stuffed his hands into his front pockets. It seemed to be the only way he could hold them steady. “Well, sir. . .I love Angelina, and I would like to marry her. But I won’t do anything without your permission.”
Señor Fuente frowned. “You didn’t have my permission to fall in love with her.”
This wasn’t going very well. Brian cleared his throat. “I know, but I couldn’t not love her, sir.” Had that statement made any sense?
“And I love Brian, Father.” Brian noticed that she didn’t use the pet name she had always called her Papá. He wondered if Señor Fuente did, too. “I’ve seen him in bad circumstances and good, and he always did everything he could to protect Aunt Elena and me. He made our imprisonment bearable. . .even pleasant sometimes.”
Arturo Fuente gave his daughter a piercing gaze. “Could what you feel be a special affection brought on by the fact that he rescued you? That would make you extremely grateful.”
Angelina shook her head. “No, Papá.”
The older man cleared his throat. “Did he take advantage of you or the situation?”
“Papá!” Angelina took a step toward her father. “Aunt Elena was a wonderful chaperone. Besides, Brian is a godly man.”
Señor Fuente turned to face Brian. “Would you ever dishonor her?”
Brian gave an emphatic shake of his head. “Never! I want to marry her. . .if you will give your permission.”
A ringing silence descended on the room. Brian hoped his employer would agree. If he didn’t, Brian would have to leave St. Augustine. Maybe he could return to the sea. He had quite a bit of money saved. Señor Fuente had been a generous employer, and his own needs hadn’t been more than a roof over his head and food to eat. Maybe he could go somewhere and start over. . .but with a broken heart.
“Is that what you want, my daughter?” Angelina’s father moved toward her and took one of her hands in both of his. “To marry this man?”
She nodded. Brian could see tears glistening on her dark eyelashes. “More than anything else in the world.”
“He is not a Catholic.” Her father studied her expression.
“But he is a good man. I’ve gotten to know him very well, and I respect him. I know he will love me with all his heart.”
He let go of her hand and turned toward Brian. “I’ve thought about nothing else but my daughter since I found out she’s alive. Since I believed I had lost her to death, I’m thankful to know that isn’t true. I’d give her anything she asked for within my means. And I owe you a great debt for saving her and protecting her. In the old country, I never would have given her in marriage to anyone outside the Catholic Church. But we live in a new world. Things are different here. I believe her when she tells me you are a godly man. If you are what she wants, I’ll not stand in the way.” The man turned to gaze out the windows.
That wasn’t good enough for Brian. He didn’t want Señor Fuente to just allow it. “Sir, I would like to have your blessing on our marriage. Can you give us that?”
The two men looked at each other for a few moments.
“Yes, you have my blessing.” The older man gave his daughter a smile, then left the room.
Brian stared at Angelina. She reached up and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. Although her lashes were still wet, no tears threatened to fall. She took one hesitant step toward him. With long strides, he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms.
She rested her head against his chest. “Do you have something to ask me, Brian?”
What was she talking about? Then the fog lifted from his brain. He loosened his hold on her so she could look up into his eyes.
“Angelina de la Fuente Delgado, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She lifted a hand and caressed his cheek. “Oh, yes, my love.”
Brian had waited a long time for this moment. He slowly lowered his face toward hers. Just before their lips met, her eyes drifted shut. Sweetness poured over him like warm honey. He tasted it on her lips, their softness firming under the pressure from his. So this is what love tastes like. Brian wanted the moment to last forever. He pulled back and caught a look of wonder on her face. Once again, his lips descended to hers, gently at first, but increasing in intensity. Her arms crept up around his neck, and her fingers tangled in the waves there. He was glad he hadn’t had time to get his hair trimmed. As she twirled curls around her fingers, the gentle tug intensified their connection to each other.
Angelina wound her fingers in the tangled curls on the nape of his neck while his lips pledged his eternal love to her. We are getting married. The hoped-for event would come to pass. It was almost too much to imagine. When Brian deepened the kiss, Angelina felt as if she were being transported to the very gates of heaven. That’s what life with Brian would be—heaven on earth for her.
Epilogue
Three months later
Angelina looked around the table at her wedding dinner. The ceremony had been the event of the year in St. Augustine. Most of the townspeople were customers at Señor Fuente’s store, so they went to the church to see the couple exchange their vows. At this meal Bridgett prepared for the family and close friends, Carlos Garrido made two announcements. Because the pirates had destroyed Señor Fuente’s favorite ship, the governor gave him ownership of the schooner to replace it.
“Soon after the return of the captives,” Señor Garrido said, smiling at Angelina and her aunt, “I accompanied Captain Herrera to the plantation to clean out the treas
ure room. We will attempt to find the owners of whatever we can, but the rest will become part of the treasury of the colony.”
A smattering of applause went round the table, but the governor wasn’t finished. “I left several of my men protecting the plantation house. It’s a magnificent structure. I believe there could be a real future for anyone who owns that parcel of land. That part of the country is just beginning to grow and develop. Both as a reward for his part in capturing the pirates, and as a wedding present, I am deeding the plantation to Brian O’Doule.”
This time the applause was almost deafening. Angelina looked at Brian. She could tell that the governor’s generosity amazed him as much as it did her.
She leaned closer to her new husband. “What do you think about that?”
Brian gazed deep into her eyes. “More important is what you think about it. Could you ever live in that house again?”
Angelina thought about it for a moment. “I can live anywhere with you.”
“But do you want to go back?”
She recognized the gleam of hope in his eyes. “Aunt Elena and I often said it was a shame the plantation wasn’t home to some family. It would be a good place to establish ours, wouldn’t it?”
His smile dazzled her. “Yes.” Even though people were watching them, he touched his lips to hers, and everything inside her melted.
Within a week, the schooner sailed from St. Augustine. Papá had made Michael O’Rourke the captain of his new ship. Aunt Elena agreed to move to the plantation with them, and Captain O’Rourke said he might be a frequent visitor between voyages. Perhaps the plantation would soon become the center of social gatherings.
Angelina didn’t need a chaperone, but her aunt wanted to serve as her housekeeper. Keeping up with such a large household would take more than one person. They brought another woman to help with the housework and a second woman who would be their cook. They could hire any other help they needed after they arrived at their destination. The holds of the ship contained many of the items Papá had saved for Angelina after her mother died.
Her father promised to come to the plantation by Christmas. He wanted to find a portrait artist to bring with him so that Angelina could have hers painted in the jewels her grandparents gave her. The red velvet dress her mother wore in the painting in her father’s parlor rested in the bottom of one of the trunks. By the time her father and the portrait painter arrived, Angelina would have made the plantation house her own, adding personal touches that gave it her personality and erased any bad memories that might linger. Someday she and Brian would pass the jewels down to their own daughter—if God gave them one.
When at last the schooner anchored in the cove near the house, Brian helped Angelina into the first boat to go ashore. They held hands and strolled on the pathway up the hill. This time everything looked different to Angelina. Without pirates around, the air felt fresher, and every tree and bush welcomed them into the serenity of the bayou country of Spanish West Florida. This was her home now, not her prison. She felt as if God had cleaned all the old feelings of fear and distrust out of her heart and replaced them with His love and the love of her wonderful husband.
“Every plantation deserves a name.” Brian stopped and studied the house. “What should we call ours?”
Angelina smiled. “I think Pirate’s Prize fits it very well.”
Brian laughed, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her until her toes curled and her knees felt weak.
About the Author
LENA NELSON DOOLEY is a full-time freelance author and editor who lives with her husband in Texas. During the twenty years she has been a professional writer, she has been involved as a writer or editor on a variety of projects. She developed a seminar called “Write Right,” and she hosts a writing critique group in her home. She has a dramatic ministry, an international speaking ministry that crosses denominational lines, and an international Christian clowning ministry. When she and her husband vacation in Mexico, they enjoy visiting and working with missionary friends. Her Web site is www.LenaNelsonDooley.com.
Dedication
To my brother, Dr. Brian Nelson, a retired pastor, and to my husband’s sister, Mary Kelley. James and I love both of you so much.
And, as in all my books, this is dedicated to the most wonderful husband in the world, with whom I have spent more than forty years. James, you have filled my life with joy. Thank you for loving me and taking such good care of me.
A note from the Author:
I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Lena Nelson Dooley
Author Relations
PO Box 719
Uhrichsville, OH 44683
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