Tears of Gold (8 page)

“Welcome to Rancho Villareale, Doña Amaya,” Don Luís spoke softly, a gleam in his dark eyes as he indicated his surroundings with triumph.

Mara gathered her skirts together and allowed Don Luís to take her hand as he helped her climb down from the coach. Before she could reach out to help Paddy down, he jumped, landing on his hands and knees in the dust.

“Paddy,” Mara sighed in exasperation as she helped him to his feet and dusted off his trousers. She straightened the peaked, flat-crowned hat to a more secure angle on his curls, frowning in mock severity when he laughed up at her and set the cap back farther on his head.

Brendan, having helped Jamie from the coach, now stood staring around him with an absurd expression. He watched a large rooster, less than a foot away, strut arrogantly past him. A mangy-looking dog charged a group of feeding chickens, scattering them in ruffled confusion as they set up a squabbling protest that rivaled the dog’s frenzied barking.

“Jaysus,” Brendan complained, “but I never thought to be findin’ meself in a barnyard and wearin’ me best shoes.”

Mara hid a reluctant smile behind her gloved hand as he adroitly, with mincing steps, sidestepped the rooster. In an affected manner, Brendan straightened his cuffs, gave a derisive sniff, and eyed his surroundings questioningly.

“Come,” Don Luís urged them, a contemptuous look on his face as he watched Brendan’s posturings. He did not realize that Brendan was playing the fool, the actor in him unable to resist an audience. “It is time I introduced you to your new family, Amaya.”

Mara felt a hand on her elbow and glanced around to see Brendan walking beside her. His dark eyes twinkled irrepressibly down at her as he squeezed her elbow reassuringly.

“Your finest performance, little darlin’, is about to begin, and little do they know they’re about to witness a show grand enough for a king’s pleasure,” Brendan predicted, his eyes sparkling at the challenge that lay ahead. “A pity that they’re to be an unappreciative public.”

“’Tis a pity you’re not laying odds on the outcome,” Mara commented with a smile.

Brendan’s eyebrow lifted in question. “And who’s to be sayin’ I haven’t? I’m an Irishman, aren’t I?”

They followed Don Luís through the iron-grilled gate set in the corner of the adobe wall and entered another courtyard. Mara stopped in surprise as she stared at the transformation that had been made in the inner court.

She could feel a change in temperature as she stepped into the coolness of the shadowed courtyard. It was surrounded on four sides by an opened corridor with a low, tile roof supported by rough-hewn posts. In the center of the tiled patio was a double-tiered fountain, its bubbling cascade of water creating a lulling effect as it flowed into the blue-tiled fountain. Gazing around her, Mara felt her senses being assaulted by the bright colors of the flowers and shrubs that filled the courtyard. Planters of fuchsia with their exotic pink and red blossoms and red-leaved creeper with magenta flowers hung from the eaves of the projecting overhang of the gallery. Trellises of deep lavender clematis blended with climbing yellow roses, star-shaped flowers of jasmine, and the carmine and cerise of sweet pea. The bluish purple flowers of a gnarled wisteria drooped from along the roof while below, colorful pottery held hyacinths, pansies, violas, and irises of every possible hue.

It was a fragrant, secluded oasis of color and beauty, protected by the thick adobe walls of the hacienda. As Mara walked along the patio, hurrying to catch up to Don Luís, she noticed the fruit trees. The perfumed orange blossoms engulfed her in fragrance as she hungrily eyed the ripening oranges and pale greens of lemons and limes.

“Don Luís,
mi amigo. ¿Cómo está usted?
” a voice inquired from the shadowed gallery across the courtyard.

“
Estoy muy bien, mi amigo
, Don Andres,” Don Luís replied with a wide grin as he waited for the other man to approach him.

Don Andres stopped abruptly as he caught sight of the group standing silently in the shadows of the leafy branches of an overhanging tree.

“
¿Quiên es la señorita?
” he asked of the still-smiling Don Luís.

“Es Amaya,” Don Luís informed him, smug satisfaction in his voice.

At the name Amaya, and the stunned look on Don Andres’s face, Mara came to the conclusion that her intended husband was little pleased to see her on the Rancho Villareale.

Don Andres quickly masked any dismay he might have shown and, smiling a welcome, moved past Don Luís and came to a halt in front of Mara.

Mara returned his stare curiously, drawing strength from his barely concealed uncertainty. A half-smile curved her lips. Tilting her head, she said softly, “Don Andres, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Don Andres’s eyes flickered with a look Mara had come to expect in men’s eyes. He said hesitantly, “Amaya?”

Mara’s smile widened as she began to master the role of Amaya. “And may I introduce my cousin, Brendan O’Sullivan, and his son, Padraic, and our companion of many years, Jamie.” Mara made the introductions easily as she took in Don Andres’s appearance.

He was slightly over medium height, slender and dark, very handsome in a romantic way, with sleepy, dark eyes and a drooping mustache. He moved with the easy grace of a dancer in his short, gold-embroidered blue jacket and open-necked shirt. His dark breeches were flared and trimmed in gold braid. He could not be more than thirty, yet there was a gentle authority about him that was evident in his controlled movements.

“Mara, I’m thirsty,” Paddy interrupted, his voice sounding muffled as he hid his face in Mara’s skirts.

Mara unconsciously rubbed her fingers soothingly along the back of Paddy’s neck as she felt his small body lean tiredly against her. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble—” she began uncertainly, yet with a smile calculated to charm and get results.

“Of course not, Doña Amaya. Anything at all I can do for you I will do. You are my honored guests, so please do not hesitate to ask,” Don Andres cordially invited, his look taking in all three O’Flynns. “Some refreshment will be brought to your rooms immediately. It is unfortunate that Don Luís did not see fit to send one of my vaqueros ahead to warn us of your arrival. Then we would have had every convenience prepared for you,” Don Andres remarked coldly as he stared at an unperturbed-looking Don Luís.

“And ruin the surprise of your fiancée’s arrival at Rancho Villareale?” Don Luís replied mockingly. “I have waited for over a year to see the joyous expression on your face when I presented my niece, Amaya, to you.”

A thinly veiled hostility between the two men was gradually revealing itself as the two Californians stared into each other’s dark eyes. Imperiously Don Andres clapped his hands. “Cesarea! She will show you to your rooms and see to your needs.”

“I would like to have my nephew, Padraic, sleeping near to me. And of course Jamie will be seeing to his needs, as well as helping me,” Mara explained, then added sadly as she smoothed Paddy’s ruffled curls, “Poor Brendan, he’s a widower and his darling boy is like a son to me, and even calls me Mara.” She laughed huskily. “Amaya was far too much for him to handle. He’s quite a dear, and I’m very fond of him. So, if this can be arranged?”

“Of course,” Don Andres smiled sympathetically, “I understand, and the young señor will be placed in the room next to yours. Señor O’Sullivan shall be one room farther down the corridor,” he reassured her.

“Thank you, Don Andres,” Mara replied graciously, her smile sincere this time.

“And thank you, as well, Don Andres,” Brendan murmured deferentially, “you are, indeed, too kind to weary travelers.”

“When you have rested and settled in, we will meet again, sí. I will have the pleasure of introducing you to my family. But for now you must rest. It has been an extraordinary journey, has it not? I trust that all of your luggage has been brought to the rancho, as we were not expecting you, Doña Amaya. I had sent a couple of vaqueros to Sacramento City to meet Don Luís. He was bringing back several items from Europe for us, so I knew he would need some assistance. I was, however, quite surprised to see exactly what he did bring back with him.”

“You were not expecting me to return to California?” Mara asked curiously as she looked at Don Luís, wondering what in the world he was up to.

“We had been led to believe, Doña Amaya, from your relatives’ letters in the past, that you would not consider returning. However, you have obviously changed your mind, so…” he let his words drop into the silence. Then, with a flick of his fingers, he ordered the servant to take them to their rooms. He turned to Don Luís who had remained quietly watchful beside him. “You must be fatigued as well, Don Luís. You do not look overly well, and of course you will be anxious to see Doña Jacinta. But first I should like a few words with you.”

“My pleasure, Don Andres,” Don Luís responded coolly, his voice as smooth as honey and his smile as sweet. Mara and Brendan read the congratulatory look in his eyes as he nodded to them in dismissal. “I will see you later, my dear niece.”

“Until this evening, Doña Amaya, Señor O’Sullivan,” Don Andres said formally, his initial surprise at their appearance having been replaced by a stiff hauteur.

“Thank you, Don Andres,” Brendan answered for them as he urged a puzzled Mara to follow the Indian woman.

Mara’s smile encompassed both Spaniards before she turned to follow the servant, Paddy and Jamie trailing along as they hurried to keep up.

“Mara, me love,” Brendan said as soon as they were out of earshot, “I’m proud of you. For once you didn’t overplay your part. Although you needn’t go quite so heavy on the ‘poor Brendan’ routine,” Brendan complained good-naturedly.

“Don’t be worrying, my dear. I know how to say my lines,” Mara returned confidently. Then, looking up at Brendan with a frown on her forehead, she added, “But what came over Don Andres? One minute I had him charmed with me smile, and the very next he was as stiff as a block of wood.”

Brendan smiled cynically. “I’m thinkin’ you’ve had it too easy with your many conquests, little darlin’, and the don is a bit deeper than he looks. There’s more to him than meets the eye, so don’t be getting too puffed up with your success, or you’ll be making mistakes,” Brendan warned. “I’ve got a prickling feeling up the back of my neck that’s telling me we be treadin’ on shaky ground.”

Mara gave Brendan a curious look. “It wouldn’t seem as though Don Luís and Don Andres are exactly the best of friends either, which should make their business dealings interesting.”

“Odd you should be feeling that too,” Brendan agreed thoughtfully. “We shall just have to be lookin’ out for ourselves. I’m not above keepin’ an eye on Don Luís, for he’s up to something more than this masquerade, I’m thinkin’.”

The Indian woman, with a shy smile, pointed to an opened doorway and indicated that Brendan should enter.

“Apparently this is my room, but damned if I’ve ever heard of a place this size having just one floor. I’m just hopin’ that rooster doesn’t wander in on me in the middle of the night, or I’ll be puttin’ up one hell of a fight,” Brendan declared dramatically as he disappeared into his room.

Cesarea pointed to Jamie and Paddy as they passed the next room and then to Mara as she led them to a third room. Then she disappeared across the courtyard in a flurry of skirts.

“Do you think a rooster might really be comin’ into my room in the night, Mara?” Paddy asked in awe, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

“No, I do not. Your papa was being silly,” Mara quickly disabused him of that idea. “Besides, one wouldn’t dare, not with Jamie standing guard over the door.”

Mara entered her room and stood looking around her in pleased surprise. It was cool and shadowed, and there was little furniture to clutter it. The tile floors were bare, but the bed looked invitingly comfortable with its intricately embroidered counterpane turned back to reveal fine silk-edged, linen pillowcases. Folded across the foot was a gaily colored comforter.

“Don’t seem too bad a place,” Jamie commented, having followed Mara into her room. She ran her finger along the top of a table, searching for dust. “Cleaner than most of the places we been stayin’ in.”

Paddy jumped onto the bed with a bounce. “Ummm, it’s soft, Mara.”

“Well, at least we’ll be getting a good night’s rest for a change,” Mara replied with satisfaction as she took in the cleanliness of the room. Brightly painted pictures of saints hung from the whitewashed walls and the windows were set in deep embrasures, iron bars running vertically across them on the outside. Mara stared at the bars and felt a momentary twinge of panic.

The chink of glass against glass made her turn around to see the Indian servant returning with a tray. She placed it on a long table against the wall before leaving, her long black braid swinging with the movement of her bright skirts.

Mara smiled as Paddy jumped from the bed and ran over to eye the tray from a better angle.

Mara poured Paddy a glass, then another as he quickly emptied the first. Paddy’s small hand unerringly found the plate of sweets and with sugar clinging to his chin he made himself comfortable on the bed.

“Now be careful, Master Paddy, or ye’ll be spillin’ your juice on the lovely spread,” Jamie cautioned, gratefully taking a seat and a long swallow of the juice Mara had given her.

Mara sipped her juice and felt some of the dryness leave her throat. “To be sure, I’m thinkin’ the O’Flynns haven’t done too bad for themselves,” Mara commented as she looked around the room.

“And if ye be wantin’ it to continue, then ye’d best be guardin’
your
tongue, little darlin’,” Brendan said from the opened doorway.

Mara flushed slightly at his reprimand. “I think it’s gone quite well so far.”

“So far?” Brendan questioned as he moved into the room, his glass of wine half-full. “It hasn’t even begun yet. Do you think I could get a glass of whiskey around here?” he demanded and, with a grimace, swallowed the rest of his wine. “At least it’ll wash the dust down, and I’ve got a couple of bottles in my bags.”