Midnight Fire

by Linda Ladd

"And do you have a reason why I should not?"

  "Chaso does not blame her, or he would not have sent her here to you."

  "And did he say what I am to do with the gringa?"

  Tomas looked disconcerted. "He said to send her home to America. But that is out of the question now, while she is so ill."

  For some inexplicable reason, Dona Maria was relieved to hear Chaso's orders concerning the girl. But the look on Tomas's face told her he didn't feel the same way. Instinctively, she knew he already liked the gringa too much. But before she could question him further about the girl, the doctor arrived to apprise her of Carlita's condition.

  "Don Francisco, sit down, por favor, and I will have refreshments brought to you."

  "Gracias, Dona Maria," Dr. Alvarado answered. While she rang for the maid, Tomas asked him about his patient.

  "She is very weak, Tomas, and we must take good care of her. The malaria has run its course, I believe, because of Papa Gilberto and the niña's care. But I fear the child will complicate matters and make her recovery take longer."

  "Child? What child?" Dona Maria asked at once, perplexed by his remark.

  "Why, the gringa carries a baby, Dona Maria, for quite some time now, I believe."

  "But Carlita is not married!" Tomas interjected quickly. "You must be mistaken, Don Francisco!"

  Embarrassed by her son's naiveté and rudeness, Dona Maria dismissed him. "You must be tired from your journey, Tomas. Cecilia will have your bath ready by now. I will join you when we dine later this evening."

  Tomas looked annoyed, and more upset over the pregnancy than he should. Why? He hadn't even known the gringa before he escorted her from Saltillo! As he left the room, a maid entered with a tray of coffee and sweet cakes. Dona Maria waited for her to leave, then questioned the doctor further.

  "Were you able to speak to her about the baby?" she asked.

  Shaking his head, Dr. Alvarado watched her pour the steaming brew for him. "She did not know she was expecting a child, but the campesina—Juana's her name, I believe—she suspected it. She has helped care for the gringa for weeks now. The chills and fever have passed for the time being, but they will come again every day or so until we can affect her recovery with quinine."

  "And will her sickness hurt the bebé?"

  "I cannot say. It is very early in her confinement, so perhaps she will regain her strength. We will have to take extra care with her."

  "Sí, and we will, Doctor," Dona Maria answered, gazing at him thoughtfully. "Is she well enough for me to speak to her?"

  When he nodded, she rose and left him to finish his café con leche at his leisure. She walked directly to the gringa's bedroom, then crossed the floor to where Juana sat in a chair beside the bed.

  "Juana, niña, you must be hungry and tired, too. Run to the kitchen and my cook, Cirila, will see to you."

  "But what about Dona Carlita—"

  "Do not concern yourself. I will sit with her until you return.

  Although a trifle hesitant to leave, Juana obeyed, and after she was gone, Dona Maria sat down on the edge of the bed.

  "Dona Carlita? Can you hear me?"

  The gringa's eyelashes fluttered, revealing pure green eyes bright with fever.

  Leaning forward, Dona Maria pushed the girl’s, damp hair off her burning forehead. She smiled reassuringly. "You are safe now, niña. I am Chaso's mother, and we will take care of you here at the Casa Amarilla."

  "Gracias, senora," the girl mumbled, but her face was flushed and tears wetted her cheeks.

  Dona Maria wiped them away, her heart troubled. "You must not weep. Everything will be all right. But there are things we must know in order to help you. Would you like us to notify someone for you? Your husband, perhaps? He will be very concerned about you and your child?"

  Carlita moved her head from side to side, but despite her obvious weakness, she reached out and clutched Dona Maria's hand.

  "Chase doesn't know about the baby!" Her voice rasped faintly, and a sob caught in her throat. "He'll be so angry! He won't want the baby because he hates me! He sent me away because of Esteban!"

  Dona Maria put her hand on the distraught girl's shoulder, murmuring comforting words. But inside, she was appalled at Carlita's revelation. Chaso, the father of the gringa's baby? Could it be true? But the girl was hardly in the mental condition to tell lies about the paternity. Already she had begun tossing restlessly again.

  "Oh, my Chaso," Dona Maria murmured under her breath. "What have you done to this poor niña?"

  Suddenly angry with her son for sending the girl to her without a word of warning or explanation, she set her teeth. Her older son was used to having women on his own terms, she knew that. She'd heard the tales of his liaisons with different ladies. But in the past, most of them had been older and much more sophisticated than the mere child lying before her. How could he think of using a young girl so vilely, then ordering her exile the way he had? It was abominable behavior, unlike Chaso, even if he didn't know she carried his child!

  There was probably much more to this girl's story than Dona Maria knew, but that would not be the case for long. If Chaso was the father, the gringa carried Dona Maria's own first grandchild. Her face settled into determined lines, and she leaned forward to stroke the girl's hot cheek.

  "Do not fear, niña. I will take care of you and your baby. I can promise you that."

  14

  For the first time in weeks, Carlisle was up from her sickbed. Fully dressed, she stood at the tiny balcony off her bedchamber. A low iron grill crossed the bottom half of the window, and she held on to the rail, lifting her face to the warm golden sun of early September. But she felt very tired and empty, and sorrow hung over her heart like a shroud. She carried Chase's child, one he wouldn't want. Even though he'd been kind those last days when she was ill, he'd made it clear he wanted her out of Mexico, and out of his life. She knew she should write Gray and explain all that had happened between Chase and her, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She was ashamed of the things she'd done and the pain she'd caused Chase.

  A wave of nausea rose in her throat. The morning sickness was familiar to her by now, and she put her handkerchief over her mouth and waited for it to sub-side. Sometimes she couldn't believe a baby grew inside her. But Juana had suspected Carlisle was with child early in their journey from Saltillo, a trip of which Carlisle remembered very little. And Dr. Alvarado had verified her condition.

  Moment by moment, like quicksilver, her feelings about the baby changed. Sometimes she was terrified to the core to contemplate her situation, alone in a foreign country, unmarried, and pregnant by a man who hated her. Despite the circumstances, neither Tomas nor his mother had treated her with anything but respect. In fact, they'd been very considerate and concerned during her convalescence. Especially Tomas.

  Every morning he visited her before he left for his studies at the universidad, never failing to bring her a bouquet of fresh flowers, usually gladioli and lilies he'd picked from the well-tended beds in the spacious patio. She liked him very much, but he was completely different from Chase. Although he was just two years her junior, she felt much older after all she'd experienced during her months in Mexico.

  Nausea gripped her again, and she hurried inside to the pitcher and bowl to bathe her face with cool water.

  "The sickness will leave you soon, Dona Carlita. Then you will begin to feel like eating again. You are much too thin, you know."

  Dona Maria had come into her room, quietly, without knocking, and Carlisle immediately felt self-conscious and embarrassed. Though Chase's mother had been solicitous, she had also been exactingly formal, and she'd visited Carlisle much more infrequently than Tomas.

  "I cannot seem to keep anything down," Carlisle said in Castilian Spanish, and the older woman smiled.

  "We will speak English, por favor. Everyone in my house is quite comfortable with your language."

  "Gracias." Carlisle could think of nothing else to say, a
nd she turned away when she felt nauseous again. Droplets of sweat formed on her forehead, and she stifled a sick moan.

  "Come, sit down, Dona Carlita. You must breathe deeply and think of other things, and it will be easier. I remember well the early days of my own confinement."

  Carlisle did as Dona Maria suggested and revived somewhat. She sat down across from the breakfast tea cart that had been brought up to her room earlier. She'd been unable to touch the food.

  "You really must eat something," Dona Maria urged. "You must think of my grandchild."

  Carlisle felt herself tense. She met the other woman's gaze. "How do you know Chase is the father?"

  Dona Maria poured a liberal amount of canela into a china cup, then handed the fragrant cinnamon tea to Carlisle. "You told me yourself, the first night Tomas brought you here. Do you not remember?"

  Carlisle shook her head. "I remember little about the first few days."

  "You were deathly ill. We were all quite worried. Tomas, in particular. He has become very fond of you. Are you aware of that?"

  "Sí, Dona Maria. Tomas has been wonderfully kind to me. I am grateful to all of you."

  "And my other son? Was Chaso kind to you?"

  Carlisle could feel her face heat as a warm flush colored her cheeks. She kept her eyes downcast, unable to meet Dona Maria's gaze.

  "Sí, senora, he was kind to me."

  Nervous with the subject, she sipped from her cup, but the spicy tea only made her stomach heave. Quickly, she placed it in the dainty white saucer.

  Dona Maria's keen dark eyes were still leveled on her, and Carlisle feared her next question. How could she talk to Chase's mother about what had gone on between Chase and her? Their relationship was so mixed up and confused, she didn't understand it herself.

  "I have sent to the Hacienda de los Toros for your personal belongings. Of course, the seamstresses here will have to alter your clothes for your confinement. Today I sent Juana to purchase suitable dresses for you to wear until your own wardrobe arrives."

  Carlisle searched Dona Maria's face, unable to hide her surprise. "You don't mean you intend for me to stay here, in your house?"

  The expression on Dona Maria's thin, aristocratic features did not change. "Why, of course you will stay here. Where else would my son's child be born?"

  Carlisle hesitated, somewhat intimidated by the stern, erect woman across from her. "But Chase told you to send me home. He'll be angry if I'm here when he returns."

  "Obviously, he did not know you were carrying his child when he gave those directives. More than anything else, I've tried to instill a sense of honor in both of my sons. He will do his duty to you, Dona Carlita. I can assure you of that."

  "I'm afraid there's much you don't know about the two of us," Carlisle told her warily.

  "Then perhaps you should tell me."

  "Chase might prefer to tell you himself."

  "But Chaso is not here, and probably will not be for some time yet. There is no need for you to be afraid to speak. I am well aware that my son can be quite impossible at times. He inherited that unfortunate trait from his gringo father."

  Dona Maria had not smiled during her remarks, but somehow Carlisle knew Chase's mother would not be judgmental. For so long, Carlisle had held all her torment inside herself. Now she felt the need to speak her fears aloud to someone who'd understand and advise her. Still a little frightened to bare her innermost thoughts, she took a deep breath and forced herself to meet the perceptive dark eyes watching her so intently.

  "I hardly know where to begin, Dona Maria," she ventured hesitantly.

  Chase's mother waited silently, and finally the words came pouring out of Carlisle.

  "It's so strange between us, Dona Maria! From the first moment we met, I felt as if I were out of control of myself. I didn't even like him much then, and I tried to hide the fact that he affected me. But when he looked at me, he made me feel ways I'd never felt before! I told myself he was arrogant, that I hated him, but I didn't! I never hated him!" To her humiliation, she burst into tears.

  Dona Maria took a crisp white handkerchief from her sleeve. "I understand, niña, more than you know. Chaso is very much like his father."

  Her words were gentle, and Carlisle dabbed at her eyes, feeling better already.

  "How did you meet my son? And why are you here with him in Mexico? As you can tell, Chaso does not see fit to keep his family informed of his business."

  Carlisle twisted the handkerchief in her fingers, thinking that in the past few months she'd shed more tears than in her entire life.

  "We met at my brother's house in New Orleans. Gray had brought Chase's cousin, Tyler MacKenzie, there, and Chase was to bring her here to Mexico."

  "My niece, Tyler, is here?"

  "She didn't come because my brother decided to marry her, and Chase gave his consent. It's a long story, I'm afraid." Her lips curved into a sad smile. "It seems everything in my life has become very complicated."

  "I remember Tyler well. She was Burl's sister's child, a beautiful little thing with the oddest red-brown eyes." She shook her head, as if enjoying some long-ago memory. "I can remember visiting her father's plantation. Rose Point, I believe it was called." She smiled faintly. "Tyler used to follow Chaso around like a little lost puppy."

  Carlisle listened quietly, finding it hard to believe that the elegant, gracious lady opposite her had been married to Tyler's unscrupulous Uncle Burl. Chase had never once spoken of his father other than to condemn the way he'd raised Tyler.

  Suddenly Dona Maria seemed to shed her reminiscent mood and return to the present. "But enough about Tyler. Did Chaso invite you to visit him?"

  Again Carlisle fought off her unwillingness to explain. In retrospect, all her actions seemed so silly and immature. "I was supposed to visit Arantxa Perez. We were best friends at the Sacred Heart Convent, but Gray wouldn't let me come to Mexico unless Chase was my chaperone."

  "Dios mío, I guess he hadn't heard about Chaso's reputation with women."

  Carlisle shook her head. Then her words began to flow faster, and her heart suddenly felt unfettered. She wanted to tell it all and have someone absolve her from the guilt shackling her soul.

  "Arantxa's brother, Javier, told me awful things about Chase and what he'd done in the war. He told me the Juaristas were murderers. I thought I loved Javier then, and I believed everything he said. But, Dona Maria, I was so wrong! About everything! I know that now. But it's too late, because I left the Hacienda de los Toros and went willingly with Arantxa and her brother. That's when Chase and Esteban came after me. And now Esteban's dead because of me. And Chase—they hurt him so bad. Oh, God, they drove nails into his hands! And it was my fault, all of it!"

  She buried her face in her hands, muffling her words. "I never wanted them to get hurt. You have to believe me. I saw Esteban die. I saw Chase hanging up against the wall, and it haunts me day and night. I see it over and over, and I know that Chase despises me. Even afterward, when he made love to me, I know he blamed me."

  Sobs overwhelmed her, and when Dona Maria rose and laid a comforting hand on her back, Carlisle put her arms around the other woman's waist and wept into her black silk skirt.

  "You must not cry, Carlita. You have been through many terrible things. But you are not alone anymore."

  After a time, Carlisle calmed her sniffling diminishing until she was able to lean back against her chair, feeling weak and drained. When Dona Maria silently offered her a fresh cup of canela tea, Carlisle drank it and felt better.

  "I'm just so confused, Dona Maria. My life seems over, when just six months ago I thought only of escaping from the nuns and being free to do whatever I wanted. That's why I wanted to come here to Mexico. But I've hurt people, and I've hurt myself. I can't bear to tell my brother Gray about all the wrong things I've done. And most of all, I can't bear to think of never seeing Chase again." Her voice faltered, and she couldn't speak.

  "Forgive me for asking, Carlita,
but are you sure, without a shadow of a doubt, that Chaso is the father of your child?" Dona Maria asked gently.

  Carlisle nodded, her throat clogged. "I've never been with any other man. I swear it."

  "Then you shall see Chaso again, my niña. I will make sure of it."

  "Why are you being so kind? You have no reason to believe me."

  "No one could disbelieve words uttered with such pain and bitter regret." Dona Maria patted her hand. "And I understand the way you feel. Long ago, I, too, was young and eager to live my life as I wished. I, too, became enamored of a man who took my breath away. Chaso is like his father. He has broken many hearts before yours, niña. It is hard on the women who love such men. And you do love my son, don't you, Carlita?

  Carlisle shut her eyes and nodded, her lips trembling. "Oh, yes, I love him. I love him so much it hurts inside."

  Chase put his hands over his ears as the gunner lit the fuse and took cover. The cannon recoiled as the powder ignited, sending the cannonball toward San Miguel with a booming explosion. Watching with satisfaction, he saw the missile hit its target, knocking down another portion of the outside wall.

  A week after he'd ridden out of Saltillo with Captain Luiz and his Nacionales, they'd trapped the guerrilleros in their lair and laid siege as they'd done four long years ago. But this time they'd had access to heavy artillery. Hauling the cannon up the mountain trails had been difficult, but he'd known it was the best way to capture Perez without undue casualties among his men.

  They had been bombarding the walls for weeks now, and the guerrillero stronghold was ready to fall. He sent a rider to demand surrender after each assault, but if he had to, he'd continue firing until he'd destroyed the whole place.

  After several more direct hits, he signaled to stop the barrage, then waited for the reverberating echoes of the big gun to die. He sent a rider forward to call for surrender, with no quarter given.

  Triumph overcame him, and he smiled grimly as the front gate of the mission slowly opened and a white flag began to wave. Perez was his, the bastard.