Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) (24 page)

"I'll help you," Valentina volunteered, not wanting to be left alone. The sun had already dropped behind the mountain, and the cabin was bathed in an eerie light.

"No, you can spread our bedrolls before the fire. I will be back before you know it, and I will cook you a meal tonight that you will never forget."

For long moments they stood gazing into each other's eyes. Valentina forgot Jordanna's grievances against Marquis. All hurts and disappointments faded away and she felt her knees go weak at the softness in his eyes. Finally, when she thought she could stand it no longer, he turned and went out the door, leaving Valentina staring after him.

Going down on her knees, she spread out his bedroll, then moved across the room and unrolled hers. What was this strange magic that Marquis wove about her? All he had to do was look at her and she fell apart on the inside. Her hand stole up to her stomach, which was still flat and firm. For the first time, she thought of the baby she was carrying as a real person. Would her child have flashing brown eyes like Marquis's, eyes that could soften to velvet in an instant? Pushing her troubled thoughts aside, she sat down on her bedroll, hugging her legs to her, waiting for Marquis's return.

Moments later, Marquis entered the cabin carrying an armload of wood. Dropping down on his knees, he soon had a fire blazing in the hearth, which helped considerably to dispell the dreariness of the cabin. Valentina moved closer and watched with interest while Marquis took an iron pan and dropped some kind of flat bread into it. In another pan he heated a quantity of dark-colored beans. Once the bread was steaming, he removed it, placing it on tin plates. Spreading the warmed beans over the top, he sprinkled them with ground peppers, dried tomatoes, and slices of cheese. He then rolled one up and handed it to Valentina.

She bit into the bean roll and smiled with delight at the taste of melted cheese and spices. "This is delicious," she declared. "What is it?"

"I was taught to make these by an Indian from Texas who now works for me. He called them
frijoles tortillas
. He would be delighted to know that a lovely lady approves of his secret recipe. Mine has hot peppers on it, but I did not think you would want yours hot. I was careful to bring the mild chilies for you."

Valentina could not help but be pleased that Marquis would take such care about her food. "I once tried a hot pepper in India. I found the taste wonderful, but I never became accustomed to it burning my mouth."

"I believe one has to be born eating hot chilies to be able to endure the pain. It is hard to understand why most
gringos
find chilies hot. I have never felt the burning that your race speaks about."

"Marquis, you have a wonderful command of the English language. Did you learn to speak it from Tyree?"

He chuckled. "That, among other things, I learned from Tyree. He is the best friend I have. Did you know that?"

"Yes, I thought as much."

"My grandfather insists that I speak in English as much as possible. He believes the Spaniards who do not look to the future will die with the past."

"He may be right," Valentina agreed sadly. "What a pity."

When Marquis turned away to eat, Valentina allowed her eyes to roam hungrily over his body. How she had missed seeing him. If he were to discover how much she loved him, he would be shocked. But if he were to find out about the baby, he probably would never want to see her again.

"Tell me, how is your family, Marquis?" she asked, trying to change the direction of her thoughts. "I have very pleasant memories of my time with them. They were so kind to me when I stayed in your home."

"When my grandfather knows that I am going to San Francisco, he always asks about you. You charmed him when you were Paraiso del Norte. My sister often mentions you and wants to know how you are doing."

Valentina noticed that he did not mention his mother, but she was not surprised. Dona Anna had not been as open and friendly as Marquis's grandfather and sister had been. Valentina would have liked to have asked what his mother's feelings were for her, but she did not dare. Trying to keep the conversation light, she thought it would be only polite to ask about his wife-to-be. "How is Isabel and her sister Eleanor?"

Marquis stiffened. "I am sure they are fine." His face was turned away from her, so she could not see the frown that touched his forehead. Marquis did not like to think about Isabel; it was too much of a reminder of how close he had come to making the biggest mistake of his life. "I have not seen much of them lately."

Valentina had finished her food and shook her head no when Marquis offered her more. She busied herself with cleaning the pans with water from the large canteen, then stored them in the leather satchel.

The fire flickered low and Marquis added more wood. Seeing that Valentina had placed her bedroll across the room from his, he gave her a slight smile and brought it over to the fire beside his. "You do not have to be afraid of me. I will not bite," he said, laughing at her decorum but delighted all the same. How refreshing her modesty was, he mused silently.

"I am not afraid of you." Feeling mischievous, she smiled. "Perhaps I bite, and I was trying to protect you from me."

His smile was warm, and he reached out his hand to brush a tumbled curl off her face. "I would not mind being bitten by you, Silver Eyes." Valentina drew back from his touch, leaving him to shrug and remark, "I believe you do fear me a bit."

"No, I do not," she denied, thinking that her worst fear was her reaction to his touch.

A heavy silence followed until Valentina spoke. "I don't feel my father's presence here," she observed, looking around the deserted cabin. "I believe I would feel it if he had ever lived here."

"Perhaps it was built after your father . . . left. Most of the miners use a tent while they build a cabin. Many of them never build a cabin at all."

"I feel the answer to my father's disappearance lies with Samuel Udell. I wish he were here."

The sound of the wind moaning down the mountain made Valentina shiver and she curled up on her bedroll. "What do you suppose happened to Mr. Udell, Marquis?”

He was not sure if Valentina realized she had been calling him by his first name all day. The sound of his name on her lips pleased him very much. His eyes moved over her soft curves, up her smooth back, to fasten on her beautiful face. The flames cast a glow on Valentina's golden hair, and it seemed alive with amber and red highlights.

"We may never know what Fate dealt to Mr. Udell, Valentina. But if it is at all possible, we will find out about your father."

She rose up on her elbow and caught his eye. "I am going into the mine tomorrow, Marquis. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to."

He smiled. "I will chance it if you will."

Sinking back on her bedroll and closing her eyes, she felt the tiredness wash over her body. "I still don't know why you came with me," she remarked, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

His voice was deep. "Do you not?"

"No," she murmured before drifting off to sleep.

Marquis stared at her for a long time. He watched the steady rise and fall of her breasts and felt an ache in his heart. What if Fate had meant this woman for him? Dare he ask her to be his wife? He thought of Jordanna and felt shame over what he had done to her. Had loving Valentina made him aware of the pain he had caused Jordanna? Was his newfound heart going to remind him of his guilt for the rest of his life? For the first time in his life, Marquis was frightened—frightened that Valentina would not return his feelings, thus sentencing him to a loveless life.

Leaning back with his arms folded behind his head, Marquis tried to decide what to do. He should do the right thing and marry Jordanna. How could he when every part of his being cried out to possess Valentina? But what about the child? he asked himself. He would see that the baby and Jordanna never wanted for anything, he assured himself. If the child turned out to be a boy, he would see to it that he was well educated. If it was a girl ... he could not bear to think of a little girl who had come from his body being shamed before the world because she had no name.

Staring at the flickering light of the fireplace, he swore softly. "Damnit, I had no guilt before. Why should I have developed a heart at this time in my life?" No, he was not going to allow guilt to make him offer marriage to Jordanna. As he had already decided, he would give her money, but that was all she could expect from him. He did not want to see the child after it was born. His eyes moved to Valentina. She was the woman who would bear the next generation of Vincentes. He loved her—he always would. Now that Isabel was out of his life, he could reach for his heart's desire. Valentina would be his. Surely he could convince her to marry him.

His heart felt light. Had this thought been in the back of his mind all the time? Was that why he had been so glad to be rid of Isabel? Closing his eyes, he thought of how he would woo and win Valentina Barrett. He would have to treat her gently. After all, she was of superior breeding, and as skittish as a blooded mare.

As he drifted off to sleep, his mind was filled with pleasant thoughts of the future.

Valentina awoke to the delicious aroma of coffee. Glancing about the cabin, she noticed that Marquis was nowhere to be seen. She stretched her arms over her head, feeling strangely rested and refreshed. She had slept the whole night through without waking.

Hearing a sound, she turned to watch Marquis enter the room. His smile was bright as he bent down to pour her a cup of coffee. "You will spoil me by waiting on me," she said, taking the cup and raising it to her lips.

"I believe a man would take pleasure in spoiling you," he said lightly. "Would you like breakfast now?"

Valentina remembered her morning sickness and shook her head no. "I only want coffee."

"What kind of a breakfast is that? You will soon waste away to nothing unless you eat," he scolded, finding that her health was most important to him.

"Have you eaten?" she wanted to know.

"Yes, hours ago. I have already been abroad scouting out the land. It appears that no one has been around here in some time."

Valentina stood up and walked outside. The air was crisp and clean and the sky was so blue it almost hurt her eyes to look at it. Her gaze wandered over to the mine, and once again Salamar's warning came back to haunt her. Pushing her fear aside, she squared her shoulders. She had to go into the mine because there might be some sign or clue that had been left by her father.

Feeling Marquis standing beside her, she nodded at the mine. "I'm going in now."

He picked up a torch he had made earlier and lit it. "Let's go," he said. "I have learned, during our short acquaintance, that it does not pay to oppose you in anything."

Her laughter bubbled out. "No man learns such a valuable lesson about a lady in such a short space of time. You are but humoring me."

His laughter joined hers. "Perhaps I am."

As Valentina neared the mine, a dark foreboding seemed to engulf her. She had the strongest desire to flee from this place, for she sensed evil here. She could feel it with every step she took—in every breath she inhaled. Refusing to give in to panic, she entered the mine behind Marquis.

A dank, musty smell assaulted her nostrils, and the torch did little to dispel the gloom of the shadows. In the distance, she could hear the scurrying of tiny feet and she shivered visibly.

Marquis turned to face her. "How deep do you want to go?

"To the end."

He led the way past the main cavern. As they progressed deeper, they often had to stoop to make it through a small archway. Deeper and deeper they went. When Valentina glanced back toward the entrance, all she could see was darkness. Drawing a deep breath, she trudged on behind Marquis, searching for any sign of her father, finding nothing but emptiness.

Suddenly Marquis stopped and held his torch high. "There is a small cavern off to the right," he observed. Reaching up and testing the timbers that braced the entrance, he found them loose. "I am not sure we should go in there—the beams appear to be unsound."

"I won't be satisfied until I have explored every inch of this mine," she declared stubbornly. To prove her point, she walked over to the arch, ducked her head, and entered. It was dark and she could not see anything until Marquis joined her with the torch.

As the light flickered across the recesses of the dark chamber, Valentina saw something on the ground that made her breath catch in her throat. Her piercing scream filled the chamber as she stared at the dead body of a man who lay face down on the floor of the cave.

"Oh, God, no!" she cried. "Don't let that be my father!"

Marquis pushed her back and handed her the torch. Going down on his knees, he turned the body over and stared at the dead man. Standing up, he moved over to Valentina. She was leaning against the wall with a look of horror and disbelief on her face.

"This is not your father, Valentina. It's Sam Udell."

Valentina dragged her eyes away from the hideous sight and buried her face against Marquis's shoulder as tremors shook her body. She was overcome with relief that the dead man was not her father.