Until the Day Breaks (California Rising Book 1) (22 page)

“I do not want to be a wife. I want to travel to Spain, to New York, to the Orient.”

Tia Josefa grew stern with Maria. “You will become a wife here in California, and you will know how to sew by then, Maria Domitilla Flores Vasquez.”

Maria tossed down her sewing cloth in disgust. “Why is the little goat allowed to greet our guests with you, and I am not?”

“Mama, she called me a goat again.”

Tia Josefa threw up her hands in front of Isabella and Maria. “You girls are as spoiled as last year’s eggs. Look at Señorita Rachel, how beautifully she sews, how gentle and quiet she is with everyone. This is how a well-bred lady behaves.” Tia Josefa gave Rachel an encouraging smile.

Rachel continued her sewing.

“I don’t want to be a well-bred lady,” Maria said.

“Me neither,” Isabella agreed.

“Maria, sew! Isabella, come with me. Our guests have arrived by now.”

Isabella gave Maria a triumphant look and then scampered after her mother exiting the
sala.

“Tio and Tia spoil that child because she’s adopted,” Maria said. “Tell me what America is like.” The redhead tossed her sewing cloth aside and focused her attention on Rachel. “Are the cities very grand?”

“I only know New England.” Rachel concentrated on sewing.

“Tell me about Boston. Is it a large city?”

“The only time I’ve been to Boston was to sail here to California.”

“You did not see how the women dress there?”

Rachel’s cheeks grew warm. “I can’t remember, really.”

“How can you not remember a city’s dresses?”

Rachel kept stitching. “I was only there a day and a night waiting for the ship to depart. I guess they dress like other women dress these days.”

“Was the harbor filled with ships from around the world?” Excitement filled Maria’s voice.

“There were many ships. The world is a wide and dangerous place, especially for a beautiful young woman without the chaperone of a husband or father.”

Maria grinned, causing a dimple to appear in one cheek. She was an absolutely beautiful girl when she smiled that way. “I am ready for a wide and dangerous world.”

“Months on the ocean is not a pleasant experience. One can become very sick. And people die all the time on these long voyages.”

“I will not become sick.” Maria jumped to her feet. She pulled up her skirts, revealing slender, black-stockinged ankles and calves. “I know I have sea legs. If I were a man, I would join the crew of a Yankee clipper ship so I could sail around the world.”

“You do not want to marry?” Rachel laid aside her sewing, giving Maria her full attention.

“If I were to marry, a man would become my master. I do not want a master. I want to be free to do as I choose.”

Rachel stretched in her seat, her muscles tight after hours of sitting there on the couch. “And what of God’s choosing?”

“What of God’s choosing?” Maria sat down, arranging her skirts to cover her shapely limbs. “God does not want me trapped here in this hacienda forever.”

Rachel captured Maria’s hands. “You live in a beautiful house with a beautiful family.”

“I am tired of my family. You’ve sailed across an ocean. You’ve been in a man’s arms. I want to experience this too.”

Rachel’s cheeks grew warm. She didn’t know what to say.

Maria laughed at her blush. “Has my brother welcomed you to his bed? Has he made you his woman yet?”

“No,” Rachel said sharply.

Maria clucked her tongue. “Too bad. I have heard he is a very skillful lover.”

Isabella raced into the room. “Sarita is here! Mama says she will live with us now that her
Yanquio
husband has joined the rebels in the north!”

Maria’s green eyes narrowed on Rachel. “You should ask Sarita about Roman’s skillfulness. She knows my brother well.”

“What are you talking about?” Isabella demanded. “Have you been telling Rachel lies about Roman?”

“They are not lies. I don’t want her surprised when our cousin fawns all over our brother when he returns from the fields tonight.”

“Sarita will be fat one day. Wait and see. She is lazy and—”

“Stop,” Rachel said with her heart in her throat. “Do not speak of such things.”

“See, little goat, you have upset Rachel.”

“You upset her!” Isabella cried.

Maria stood up. “I am done sewing. It bores me to death. The Yankees are coming. I will sail away with one of these tall, handsome Americanos on a ship someday. Just watch and see.”

“Like Captain Mason?” Isabella baited.

“Captain Mason is a beast.”

“Roman no longer thinks so. Did you see him talking with the captain last night? They went on and on about Yerba Buena becoming a great city someday. They are becoming fast friends. I have never seen Roman like this. He enjoys having the Americanos here.” Isabella said.

“I would not forgive Captain Mason if I were Roman. I do not forgive Captain Mason.”

Isabella laughed. “You attacked the poor captain. What did you expect him to do? Waltz with you while you scratched his eyes out?”

“He threw me on the floor. His blood ruined my dress.”

“I thought you liked him. He is so handsome. I know you want to kiss him.” Isabella smooched her lips.

“He is not so handsome with bruises on his face.”

Isabella threw up her hands. “Captain Mason is the most handsome blue-eyed man ever to come to California. Is he not the most handsome blue-eyed man ever?” she asked Rachel.

Rachel didn’t respond. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Maria said about Sarita and Roman together.

Maria straightened the bodice of her dress and pushed her long, red hair off her shoulders. She was slender but so shapely, and her hair was really something. Everything about her was lush. Her lips, her hair, her figure. Rachel could see how Captain Mason couldn’t take his eyes off the girl.

“Captain Mason is a brute,” said Maria.

“I think you liked rolling on the floor with the captain,” Isabella teased.

“Watch yourself, little goat. I will throw you on the floor and ruin your dress with your blood.”

“You are sisters. You should treat each other more kindly.” Rachel stood up to leave the room.

“She is not really my sister,” Maria announced. “Izzy is my cousin.”

“I am not even really your cousin. My father was Russian. My mother a beautiful octoroon.”

“An octopus,” Maria said, laughing.

“Octoroon,” Isabella insisted. “Do you know what that is?” she asked Rachel without giving her time to answer. “My mother was mostly Spanish with some Indian blood in her veins.”

“Mostly Indian with some Spanish blood in her veins,” Maria corrected.

“How do you know?” Isabella grew angry.

“Look at your skin. Is it white like Rachel’s? Golden like mine? No, you are brown as a little chicken egg and you have the hair of an Indian, straight and thick and black as night.”

Isabella yanked up her skirt to reveal bare brown feet and much paler legs. “My legs are not so brown,” she cried. “The sun makes me brown.”

Rachel went to Isabella. “You are a lovely girl, made in God’s image,” she said, smoothing Isabella’s skirts down.

“Maria is mean!” Isabella cried.

“You should tell your sister you are sorry,” Rachel told Maria.

“I am sorry, little goat. You are not so brown.” Maria lightly yanked one of Isabella’s long black braids. “You are pretty with your blue eyes and dusky skin. The men will want you when you are older, little sister.” Maria hugged Isabella and then grew serious. “Do you know why Sarita has come here?” she turned to Rachel.

Rachel shook her head. She really didn’t know.

“Sarita is Tia Josefa’s niece. She is our cousin by marriage. She is also Roman’s former
novia.
She married your father because she thought Roman was dead. We all thought he’d been killed in Texas. I do not think Sarita’s feelings have changed. She has always loved my brother.”

“She used to live with us.” Isabella added, wrinkling her nose. “When Mama found out Sarita and Roman were sneaking off together at night, she sent Sarita back to her brother. Sarita’s father is a weak-willed man. Instead of making Roman marry Sarita then and there like any good father would have, Mama’s brother allowed Roman to only become engaged to Sarita before he rode off to Texas.”

“Sarita is a witch.” Maria shivered. “You must be careful around her, Rachel.”

“Really, she is a witch!” Isabella agreed. “She worships Tohic, but Mama won’t believe it because Sarita lies about it. She says she is praying the rosary when she’s really praying to Tohic.” Isabella’s eyes widened with fear.

With trembling hands, Rachel gathered up her sewing materials. “I am not afraid of witchcraft. God is in control.”

“Sarita will cause trouble for you. Tia should not let her stay here,” said Maria.

Holding her small wooden sewing chest in her arms, Rachel did her best to appear unaffected by this talk.

“Where is your rosary?” Isabella asked Maria. “Let’s give our rosaries to Rachel.”

Rachel did not try to talk the girls out of this practice. Like her father’s servant, Rosa, Isabella and Maria were Catholic. The beaded necklaces represented God’s protection to them. “I will place your rosaries beside my bed,” Rachel told them.

“Under your pillow,” Isabella insisted.

“Under my pillow,” Rachel agreed.

Roman sent Dominic’s bear hide to the stables with the vaqueros. The hide would be cured by the Indians trained in tanning hides. Roman, Steven, and Dominic walked to the hacienda in high spirits, only to discover Sarita’s arrival an hour earlier had placed everyone in an uproar.

Tio Pedro was threatening to ride north to kill Joshua Tyler. Pedro could not understand why Sarita’s husband would join the rebels in the Sacramento Valley when he was a Mexican citizen married to a Californian wife. Upon her arrival, Sarita had cried and carried on about being abandoned by her traitorous gringo husband.

As soon as Roman arrived, she flew into his arms, pressing her ample curves against him even though he smelled like a dead bear. “My husband has left me! He has joined the rebels in the north,” she said, then fell into a fit of sobbing.

Roman set her away from him. When she continued to weep, clutching at his shirtfront, he took her back into his arms. “Please, Sarita, stop all this weeping.”

Rachel stood between Isabella and Maria, staring at him with wide, wounded eyes. He stared back at her as he held Sarita. He tried to reassure Rachel with his eyes, but she turned away, refusing to look at him. He realized in that moment that Sarita’s presence at Rancho de los Robles was the worst possible thing that could happen to them aside from war.

“I will escort you to your father’s rancho,” he told Sarita. “We will leave at first light in the morning.”

“But Tia Josefa has welcomed me here,” Sarita said tearfully. “I need you to take care of me. You know how cowardly my father is. He cannot protect me from the gringos when they come to conquer us.”

“Did your husband give you permission to leave Rancho El Rio Lobo in his absence?” Roman set her away from him again.

“What are you saying? You hate the Americanos! Surely, you do not expect me to remain married to my Yankee husband now that he has become an enemy to California?”

“Calm down, Sarita. We are not at war with the United States yet. I talked to General Castro just days ago. The general is more concerned about his feud with Governor Pico than war with the Americanos.”

“Didn’t Castro tell you he has ordered all Americanos not married to Californios to leave California at once? Why is
she
still here?” Sarita spun around to give Rachel an accusing glare.

Steven and Dominic quietly made their way to Rachel’s side in a protective manner.

“What are those
Yanquios
doing here?” Sarita glared at the men.

“They are my amigos.” Roman had had enough. “Sarita, you are overwrought. Come, I will see you to your room so you can gather your composure and get some rest.”

She clasped Roman’s elbow, rubbing her cleavage against his arm. “I knew you would take care of me,
querido
.”

Isabella rushed up and squeezed herself between them. “I will see Sarita to her room!”

Sarita glared at the girl. She wouldn’t let go of Roman’s arm.“I prefer Roman show me to my room.”

“You’re coming with me!” Isabella gritted her little, white teeth and grabbed Sarita’s arm, attempting to yank her away from Roman’s side.

Startled by Isabella’s strength, Sarita lost her balance. Both she and Isabella would have tumbled to the floor if Roman hadn’t wrapped his arms around the two of them.

Maria stepped forward and inserted herself between her brother and the stunned Sarita. “We will take our cousin to her quarters.” With a determined hip, Maria shoved Roman away from Sarita.

“I do not want to go with you!” Sarita tried to pull her arms from the girls’ grasp, but Maria and Isabella wouldn’t let go of her. “Roman, help me,” she demanded.

Tia Josefa intervened. “Remember how sweetly you girls played together when you were young? Be good to each other
mi hijas.
”

“I want Roman to take me to my quarters!” Sarita’s voice turned shrill as she struggled to escape Maria and Isabella.

“Maria and I will see you to your room, won’t we, Mama?” Isabella demanded.

“Come,
chicas.
” Tia Josefa motioned for Sarita, Isabella, and Maria to follow her from the
sala
. She also waved Rachel over to join them. “Let us leave the gentlemen to clean themselves up. I would say their bear hunt was successful judging by the smell of them.”

In the tussle with Isabella and Maria, Sarita’s ample bosom had been liberated from its satin confinement. Roman stared at all that intriguing flesh hanging over her gown, and then his eyes collided with Rachel’s. She had followed Tia Josefa’s order to join the women and now stood beside Sarita, staring back at him. The hurt in her confused blue eyes pierced his heart. What did she expect of him? Wouldn’t any man look at Sarita’s dishevelment right now?

He glanced at Steven and Dominic for reassurance, but both men stared at the floor as Isabella and Maria dragged Sarita from the room.