The Christmas Treasure (8 page)

"Ah," Josepha breathed. "You feel no pain? You notice no blood?"
 

Lorilla shook her head again. "I think Gabriel stopped, before…"
 

"Ah." Josepha chuckled sadly. "My sad, stubborn boy. Now you listen to me, young lady. Gabriel cannot just send you away. The entire town is witness to your marriage. Gabriel will not abandon his vows. That is one thing I know about him. He honors his word. You have ruined his plans, but perhaps the plans they deserve ruining.
Si
, my boy's plans must change."
 

"What do you mean?"
 

"I mean, you are now his wife. You are Senora Beltran. And you owe your husband a child. It is, after all, what he requires."
 

There was something in Josepha's voice. Lorilla looked at her suspiciously. "Josepha. What are you talking about?"
 

Josepha smiled wickedly. "It is a good thing you confide in me. Together, we may be able to make Gabriel forget what he wants and give him what he needs."
 

Lorilla was almost afraid to ask. "And what does he need?"
 

Josepha laughed. "Love, my child. Love."
 

Lorilla stared at the older woman in shock.
 

"Now the first thing we must do is get rid of that old lady's nightgown and find something suitable for a bride."
 

h

CHAPTER SEVEN

For the next few weeks, Lorilla barely saw Gabriel at all, except at dinner. Following Josepha's advice she slept in the huge bed in Gabriel's bedroom, but he continued to sleep elsewhere, so she went to sleep alone and awoke alone.
 

During the day, Lorilla followed Josepha around, begging her for something to do until finally, Josepha relented. She explained to Lorilla all about the running of the hacienda. The rancho was like a small town. Lorilla was amazed at the number of people who lived and worked there. There was Benito, Josepha's husband, who handled the horses, and their two children, Maria Joseph, who helped her mother with the housework, and young Jesus, who worked with his father in the stables. Another couple took care of the grounds, and there were at least a dozen hired hands.
 

Once Josepha accepted that Lorilla truly wanted to stay busy, she was delighted to hand over the responsibility to her. It was right, she told her, for the
Patrona
to run the household. Lorilla loved the idea of being
Patrona
. Her days were filled with satisfying work, and she had already gotten to know all the household staff. They treated her with a friendly deference, which was different from anything she'd ever known before. There was curiosity in their friendliness but also respect. Lorilla thought she could enjoy having the respect of the people who surrounded her.
 

Josepha spent one entire morning painstakingly going over the household accounts with her. At daylight, Lorilla  thought the job seemed impossible, but by the time Maria Joseph had lunch ready, Lorilla had a fair understanding  of the type and amount of supplies it took to run the hacienda for a three-month period. After lunch, Josepha announced to her that she would be responsible for ordering supplies for the next quarter year.
 

"Oh no, Josepha. No, no, no. I can't do that." Lorilla shook her head in astonishment at the other woman's pronouncement. "Besides, I probably won't…be here…" Her voice faltered. She swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. She had already begun to think of the rancho as home and Josepha and Maria Joseph as friends.
 

As she realized this, she also realized she had been fooling herself about Gabriel as well. They ate dinner together in the long dining room, he at the head of the table, she at his right hand. They made small talk, and not much of that, because Gabriel was not one to waste words. But now, staring at the account books and knowing she would probably not be here long enough to see the supplies she would order delivered, Lorilla had to admit she had been daydreaming again.
 

Her face grew warm as she remembered the imaginary conversations she had invented for herself and Gabriel. She straightened. She just had to face the truth. That's all there was to it. Sometime within the next couple of weeks, the wagon train would be ready to leave Santa Fe on its way east and Gabriel would put her on it and send her back to the man who had deceived them both.
 

"Lorilla?"
 

Lorilla blinked at the sound of her name.
 

"Lorilla? Are you all right?" Josepha placed a hand on her arm.
 

"What?" Lorilla turned her attention to the little woman. "Sorry, Josepha. I was thinking."
 

"Si, I could see that." Josepha tugged on Lorilla's arm. "Come. I think it is time to begin your task."
 

"My task? What task?" Lorilla asked impatiently. "You know, Josepha, I will be leaving. You're just wasting your time teaching me all this. You'll to be back doing it yourself within a few weeks." Her voice was harsh with the emotions she kept in check. She was not going to start feeling sorry for herself. Not now, when she could still enjoy the freedom and the responsibility of being the
Patrona
. She wanted to savor these last weeks. There would be plenty of time for self-pity later.
 

"Ah, Senora," Josepha chided, addressing her formally as she no longer did unless she was out of patience with her. "You feel sorry for yourself. But we have not yet begun. Come. There is something I must show you."
 

Lorilla followed Josepha reluctantly. She was curious about what Josepha had planned, and discovering something new about the hacienda was always exciting, but she couldn't quite shake off her melancholy.
 

Josepha led her to a storage room near the big kitchen. "In here."
 

The room was well lit and full of trunks and boxes. Josepha knelt before one of the trunks. "Senora Elena, she always buy the clothes. She send for cloth from Europe, from China, from all over. When she died, she have hundreds of yards of fabric and mucho clothing which she had never worn."
 

"Josepha," Lorilla said warningly, "what does this have to do with me?"
 

Josepha's eyes twinkled. "In this trunk are some things which may help you in your quest to give Senor Gabriel what he needs."
 

Her words recalled the discussion they'd had the morning after her wedding. "No, no, Josepha. You don't understand. Gabriel doesn't, he isn't, we aren't…" she stopped, too embarrassed to continue.
 

Josepha nodded as she dipped into the depths of the trunk. "I know, Lorilla. I understand. But tonight if you pay attention, that will change."
 

"What do you mean?"
 

"Look," Josepha said proudly, holding up a beautiful length of ivory satin, trimmed in cutwork lace.
 

"Oh, how beautiful!" Lorilla exclaimed. "What is that?"
 

"It is a negligee. Senora Elena tell me that is French for nightgown."
 

Lorilla shook her head. "I can't wear Elena's nightclothes. It's not…not…seemly."
 

"Don't worry. These things she never touched. Never wore. They belong to Senor Beltran."
 

"All the more reason I cannot wear them. Don't you think they would remind him of her?"
 

Josepha shook her head. "No. For the simple reason that he never saw them. You forget that I take care of Senora Elena, and believe me, she required much more attention than you do, with your Anglo I-can-do-it-myself attitude."
 

Lorilla had to smile at Josepha's mocking of her American accent. "Still…"
 

"Still nothing. Let us see if this fit you. Elena was small, but the sizes, they were never right for her. Always I was having to take things apart and sew them again so they were small enough for her."
 

"And you're sure Gabriel will not recognize them? He didn't oversee her purchases?"
 

"Of course not. The only way Senor Gabriel will know is if you tell him and that would not be a good idea. He is a man. He will not ask."
 

Lorilla reached out and stroked the satin material. "It is beautiful."
 

"Si, and you will be beautiful in it. Now, Gabriel, he sleeps in his office, no?"
 

"Yes," Lorilla said, embarrassed.
 

"That is all right," Josepha said, patting her arm. "We just need to make sure you are alone here in la hacienda tonight."
 

"Tonight?"
 

"Si. You are halfway between your monthly cycle, no?"
 

"Um, yes. Just about exactly. How did you know?"
 

Josepha waved away her question. "Bueno. Perfect." Josepha held up the gown to Lorilla's shoulders. "I think this will fit nicely, for the short time you should have it on."
 

"Josepha!"
 

That night after supper, Gabriel excused himself and went to his office. Josepha had water brought up, and Lorilla bathed and washed her hair, drying it in front of the fireplace. Then, after Benito cleared away the water and towels, Lorilla put the satin gown on. It slid down her body, cool and smooth. Lorilla shivered as the slick cloth reminded her of Gabriel's silky rough skin, and his hands.
 

She walked down the stairs barefoot, then across the tiled floor to Gabriel's office door. The floor was cold under her feet, and the chill and her nervousness made her tremble. She took a long, shaky breath, looked down at the gown, which draped seductively over her breasts, then turned the handle and opened the door.
 

At first, all she could see in the dimness of the room was the lamp on Gabriel's desk. She stood with her hand on the doorknob for a moment as her eyes adjusted, then she saw his lean, powerful figure at the windows. He had a brandy snifter in one hand.
 

"Gabriel?" she said softly.
 

"Yes?" he answered without turning. "What is it, Lorilla?"
 

She didn't answer. His back seemed to stiffen as the silence in the room grew longer. Oh, he was a stubborn man.
 

After a moment, when she saw that he was not going to yield, Lorilla closed the office door behind her and walked toward him. She could hear the faint rustle of the satin against her skin, and she knew Gabriel heard it too, because his head inclined, as if he were listening.
 

Reaching his side, she touched his arm. His muscles tensed under her touch.
 

He turned. "What is it--" he stopped.
 

Lorilla swallowed her fear, and stood motionless as Gabriel's gaze raked her.
 

"What are you doing in here?" he asked tightly.
 

"Looking for you. You haven't slept in your room for weeks."
 

"I didn't want to disturb you." He looked her in the eyes for the first time, and Lorilla saw something dark burning in his gaze.
 

"What do you plan to do with me then, if you're not going to 'disturb' me?" she asked, smiling at him.
 

He turned away from her and went behind his desk.
 

She stared at him. He really was retreating behind the safety of his desk, just like young Jeremy. The realization gave Lorilla a sense of power, of strength, she'd never before felt. She did something to Gabriel that she suspected not many people did. She made him uncomfortable.
 

With an understanding steeped in ancient memory, Lorilla began to feel the power of her womanhood. With it came a confidence that she had never before known. Josepha had known. Josepha had understood what Lorilla could do, if she only would. She sent a silent prayer heavenward that Josepha was not wrong about the man she had raised from a boy.
 

"Gabriel?"
 

"Look, Lorilla. You don't know what you're doing. Why don't you go to bed? We can talk in the morning."
 

"About what? About sending me away? You don't plan to send me away, do you?" she challenged.
 

Gabriel looked uncomfortable. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "You are my wife, duly married before a priest. I would be a beast to set you aside."
 

"So, then. What do you plan to do with me, Senor Beast?" Lorilla walked over to the desk and leaned over, her palms flat on the leather desktop. Her position gave Gabriel a view of her unfettered breasts. Inwardly she cringed, but with a great effort she managed not to turn bright red in embarrassment.
 

He cursed under his breath and pushed his chair back. He towered over her, arching his brow in that intimidating glower. "Go to bed, Lorilla."
 

"I asked you a question, Gabriel. If you are not going to send me away, what will you do with me? Do you plan to keep me a virgin for life? Erect statues to my maidenhood? Call worshipers from around the globe?"
 

"Don't be absurd."
 

"Absurd? I am here. I am willing. But where are you?"
 

"Don't do this," he said gruffly. He rubbed his hand over his face. "You don't--"
 

She came around the desk and stood in front of him, so close she could feel his heat. "But I do. I do know a little."  Biting her lip, she put her hands on his chest, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt.
 

Sliding her hands up, she touched his bare skin at the open shirtfront. "Because of you, I remember being very warm and very excited. I remember you kissing me."