Destiny's Captive

  “How so?”

  “I doubt any other man here would offer for her. Luis Garcia doesn’t count. He’s a widower looking for someone to raise his five children and any woman will do.”

  “I doubt Pilar would have a problem finding suitors.”

  “You’re very kind, Noah, but no sane man would want a woman who fights with a sword and may be wanted by the crown for smuggling guns as his wife. Not that you’re insane, of course.”

  Noah smiled at him over his raised cup. “I find her fascinating.”

  “I find her wild and untamed.”

  Noah paused and studied him.

  “Don’t get me wrong. She is my niece and I would defend her with my life, but I don’t approve of the way she was raised—or not raised, depending on how you view it. She was obviously allowed more freedom than was good for her and I lay that not at my sister’s feet but at the feet of her late husband Javier. He was not the man my parents planned for her to marry, but Desa had always been headstrong and rebellious and made her own choice by turning her back on her novio on her wedding day.”

  “Pilar and I discussed a bit of the story.”

  “Then I won’t rehash it, only to say I don’t wish my daughters to think they too can be wild and untamed.”

  Noah tried not to be judgmental. “So you’d feel better if Pilar were not around them.”

  “I don’t wish to sound uncharitable, but yes. Call me old-fashioned, but a daughter like Pilar would have put me in my grave long ago. My heart stopped when I saw her with that rapier in her hand and then to discover she actually knew how to use it.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t believe it.”

  “Do you wish to amend the courting terms?”

  “Frankly, yes. Of course, Desa may not, but I do. And if the authorities are indeed on my nieces’s trail, it would be better for all involved if she were in California and not in my home or her mother’s.”

  Noah wanted to point out the holes in the man’s position but didn’t. As Miguel stated, he was old-fashioned and had been raised to believe a woman’s place didn’t involve gun smuggling or rapiers, but having been raised by Alanza the Brave, Noah knew that not all women were meek and content to spend their life being told how that life should be led. He also didn’t point out that throughout history, females had participated in the fight for freedom in countries all over the world. “You plan to speak with Senora Banderas about this?”

  “I do. The sooner you and Pilar marry, the better it would be—of course I have no idea whether you agree or not, but I sense you might.”

  In truth, Miguel’s angst played right into Noah’s hands, but rather than admit he’d marry Pilar in an hour if the arrangements could be made, he replied, “Speak with your sister and if she agrees, we’ll discuss how we might move forward.”

  “Thank you, Noah.”

  He inclined his head and their talk returned to the business of cigars.

  Pilar was in the garden once again, sitting for the portrait, when her mother interrupted them. “Pilar, Gerardo Calvo is here.”

  Pilar stilled. “Here?”

  “Yes. He needs to speak with you right away.”

  Why would the Cuban shipyard owner suddenly seek her out this way? she wondered. It had to be something of importance. Was it news concerning Tomas and the other men lost that night? Had General Maceo marched on Havana? Dozens of questions competed to be answered and all were underlined with a rising dread.

  When she entered the parlor, her mother left them alone.

  “It’s good to see you, again Senor Calvo,” Pilar said.

  “I feel the same. I bring you sad news, however. You friend Tomas is dead. He was captured the night the boat was sunk, along with two of my men, and tortured. I’ve no idea what happened to the third man who sailed with you.”

  Her heart stopped.

  “Our allies tell us that the crown is now searching for you as well. No one knows what information the men may have revealed before their deaths but you would be wise not to return to Cuba.”

  The rebels knew the dangers inherent in their fight but she felt solely responsible for the deaths. Knowing she’d never see Tomas again left an ache inside too terrible to bear. “Were arrangements made for his burial?”

  Calvo shook his head. “I’m told his body along with the others was thrown into the sea and his mother taken to one of the camps.”

  “No!” she cried. His elderly mother would never survive the terrible conditions there. The camps were filled with disease, filth, vermin, and starvation. Pilar found it hard to breathe.

  “You might want to disappear for a time. Spain may or may not be able to touch you legally here but they do have eyes and ears in the Keys and in Yorba City, and I’d put nothing past them. I plan to vanish for a time as well. Like you, I know too much about the other arañas in our webs to risk being taken and tortured.”

  It was wise advice. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

  “Only that our side has put out the rumor that you drowned that night, but whether it will be believed . . .?” He shrugged.

  She understood. “Thank you for coming, senor.”

  “You’ve been an asset for many years, Pilar Banderas. It was the least I could do.”

  “I’m so sorry for the deaths of your men.”

  “So am I,” he whispered before he bowed and exited, leaving her alone.

  Pilar dropped into a chair and silently wept for Tomas and his mother. She and her lifelong friend would never sail together or ride into the mountains or share smiles, ever again. The knowledge that he’d suffered so and was denied the decent burial owed every human being added to her despair. She knew he’d not want her to blame herself but she did, and with no idea if she’d ever be able to forgive herself. Spain had taken yet another person from her life and she swore to do everything in her power to keep that from happening again. She hadn’t been sure before, but Calvo’s visit cemented the fact that she and, more important, her mother and sister were in danger. Momentarily setting aside her grief, she thought about her options and after coming to a decision got to her feet. She knew what had to be done.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” her uncle asked when he came home.

  “Yes.” She’d already discussed her decision with her mother and sister and although they agreed, they were saddened.

  “Okay,” he replied somberly, “Noah is due to arrive any moment. When he does, I will send him in to speak with you.”

  “Thank you, Tio.”

  Alone in her uncle’s study, Pilar looked out of the windows while she waited. Dusk would be descending soon on a day that began with sunshine and blue skies and was now filled with sorrow and sadness. There was no way of knowing where her life might be by the time night fell, but she was determined to face it with resolve. A soft knock on the door interrupted her musings. “Come in.”

  And there he stood. He viewed her silently and worry filled his face. She knew her eyes were still red from her tears but that couldn’t be helped. “Close the door, please.”

  He complied. “What’s happened?”

  So she told him of Calvo’s visit, Tomas’s terrible demise and Calvo’s parting advice. When she finished, she vowed, “I will not let Spain take another loved one from my life, so I plan to take the advice and disappear.” Even though her next words were necessary, the parts of herself that had stood tall and without fear for so many years wept inside at what she was about to do. “If you will still have me, I’d like to get married as soon as possible.”

  To his credit, he didn’t poke fun at her or do anything else to add to her pain. “Your decision is wise. And yes, I still want you as my wife,” he assured her quietly. “I doubt we’ll be able to purchase train tickets this late in the day but we can see about that first thing in the morning. Does your uncle know a priest who will conduct the ceremony without the necessary papers?”

  Her relief soothed only a portion of her inner conflict. “I sp
oke with him earlier and he says he does.”

  “Then have him contact the padre so we can move forward.”

  “Thank you. If you will wait here, I’ll let him know.”

  She walked to the door and as she came abreast of him he gently caught her hand. “This will work out, Pilar.”

  “It didn’t for Tomas,” she replied and exited.

  They were married an hour later. At her mother’s insistence she wore the mint-green gown she’d worn to her uncle’s rumba, while Noah remained in the same black suit he’d worn upon arrival. It was necessary for him to donate a large amount of money to the coffers of the priest’s church in exchange for the hasty summons and lack of requisite documents. There would be no mass conducted of course but neither of them cared as long as the certificate proving they were man and wife was signed and sealed. Once that was done, the priest departed.

  Feeling as if she were encased in stone, Pilar said to him, “Thank you again. I will do my best to be a good wife.”

  Noah said in kind, “And I shall do my best to be a good husband.”

  It had already been decided that they would leave right after the ceremony, so she excused herself to go pack.

  Up in her room, she placed her small amount of clothing and personal belongings in a case borrowed from her uncle. Her mother and sister looked on sadly.

  When she finished, their mother asked Doneta, “Will you leave us a moment please?”

  Doneta slipped out and closed the door behind her.

  “Do you have any questions about your wedding night, Pilar?”

  Embarrassment heated her from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet, but she nodded.

  When her mother concluded, she added, “Some women find the marriage bed pleasing; others don’t.”

  Pilar wanted to ask if she had, but again, embarrassment took told.

  As if having read Pilar’s thoughts, she confessed with a fond smile: “Your father and I enjoyed that part of our marriage very much.”

  There was a knock on the door. It was Pilar’s uncle. “The coach is here, Desa. Noah would like for Pilar to join him.”

  “Thank you. We’ll be down in a moment.”

  He withdrew and her mother pulled her into a tight embrace and placed a kiss on her cheek. “You and your man will do fine. You’ll see.”

  Pilar hoped she was right.

  He was waiting for her in the parlor. “Take a few moments to say good-bye. I’ll be out in the carriage.”

  She was grateful for that small kindness. “Thank you.”

  He bowed to her mother. “I will send for you and Doneta as soon as we reach my home.”

  After his departure, Doneta embraced her first and Pilar’s heart ached. “Please don’t cry,” she said, even as tears spilled down her own cheeks.

  “But I will miss you so,” her sister whispered thickly.

  “I’ll miss you, too, very much.” She leaned back and took a long last look. “You’ll take care of Mama.”

  “Always. Be happy.”

  Pilar didn’t speak to that but instead hugged her sister tightly again and placed a parting kiss on her wet cheek.

  Next came her mother, whose smile melded with her tears. Holding Pilar close, she said confidently, “I will see you soon. God keep you safe.”

  “You too, Mama. I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize. Things happen as they will. I’ll keep you and Noah in my prayers.”

  The love she felt for her mother was unequaled and Pilar had no idea how she’d get through life until she saw her again. Everything that she was and believed in had been bestowed upon her by her parents, and every day since her life had begun, one of the two had been there. Now, her father was among the saints and her mother would be thousands of miles away. Her world was shattered. She stepped into her uncle’s wide-open arms. “I’m sorry for the shame I brought to your house, Tio,” she whispered.

  “No shame. You’ve made me very famous. Everyone will want to come and buy cigars from the man who had a sword fight at his birthday rumba.”

  She laughed and wiped at her eyes.

  “I will look after your mother and sister. Have no worries on that.”

  “Thank you. Thank you for everything. Give my cousins my love.”

  “I will. Go with God, my rebel niece. May you find favor.”

  Picking up her borrowed case, she took a final look at the people she loved, gathered herself and stepped out into the darkness.

  Chapter 12

  He was waiting by the coach. She was glad the darkness hid the evidence of her tears. She hated showing any form of weakness, so she quickly dashed away the remaining dampness and hoped there would be no traces left when they reached their destination.

  “I’ll take your bag.”

  “I can carry it.”

  “It’s called chivalry, Pilar. I help you with your bags and hand you into the coach. Humor me if you would.”

  She pushed the bag practically into his chest. She thought he cracked a bit of a smile but it was too dark to see clearly.

  “Now, your hand please, so I may help you in.”

  “I’ve been getting in and out of carriages my entire life.”

  “Not with a husband, you haven’t.”

  He was right of course, and because she had no ready riposte, she impatiently extended her hand. He took it in his own and the warmth that radiated rippled over her like stones across a pond. As soon as her foot gained the lip of the coach, she broke the contact in order to restore her breathing to something akin to normal.

  The interior had only one bench, so she chose to sit on the far end beneath the window. He followed her inside.

  The coachman got them underway and she tried not to think about leaving her mother and sister behind. It was difficult. “Where are we going?”

  “To the boardinghouse I’m staying in. As I said, we’ll see about the train in the morning.”

  Another thing she tried not to think about was the wedding night. She was thankful for the information given to her by her mother concerning what she might expect. Pilar didn’t reveal that during her time with the Revolutionary Army she’d inadvertently happened upon a few men and women coupling under the cover of darkness but had quickly veered away so she wouldn’t be seen. Nor did she reveal that one of the Mambi women had told her that with the right man the marriage bed could be heaven, but with the wrong one, hell. She wondered which he might be and if she’d be able to tell the difference. She hazarded a glance his way and found him watching her. “How long will it take us to get to your home in California?” she asked to cover her nervousness.

  “Five days—maybe seven, depending on the tracks, the weather—any number of variables.”

  “Do your mother and brothers live nearby?”

  “We all live on the ranch.”

  “In the same house?”

  “No. My brothers have their own homes. You and I will be staying with my mother in the house where I grew up until we decide where we might want to live.”

  “Oh.” She wondered how his mother would take to her and what he’d been like as a child. Had he gotten the scar back then? More questions without answers, so she sat in the darkness and tried not to wail aloud over this unwanted turn in the direction of her life.

  Noah couldn’t believe she’d wanted to argue with him over entering the coach and chuckled inwardly. Having her in his life was going to be an ongoing challenge. He’d have to keep reminding himself that she was twenty-five years old and had been making her own way in the world for quite some time. When other fifteen-year-old young ladies had their heads filled with parties, new gowns, and dreams of novios, she’d gone off to war. Deferring to a man on such mundane matters as etiquette was undoubtedly something she’d never had to take into consideration before. He cast back to the memory of her standing so stoically in her uncle’s study. It had probably killed her inside to ask that he marry her. Under normal circumstances her words would have be
en music to his ears. Although there was nothing normal about the threats she and her family were possibly facing, he still wanted her as his wife and dared the Spanish or anyone else to try and take her from him.

  At that moment the coach’s open window caught the passing light of a streetlamp to reveal the sadness on her face. His heart opened in a way that was as new to him as his rising feelings for her were. It had to be excruciating for her to leave her family behind, especially coupled with the grief she felt as a result of her friend’s death. He very much wanted to offer her solace but she’d probably pull a machete out of her bag and hack him into small pieces if he approached her in that way, so he settled back and shared the silence.

  It was a bit past ten when they left the carriage and walked to the door of the boardinghouse. The place was dark as befitting the lateness of the hour. The owner, a short, large-breasted Irishwoman named Ira Fitzhugh, didn’t issue keys to the front door after eight o’clock, so he had to knock and hope she didn’t curse at him for getting her out of bed. Dressed in a robe thrown over her nightclothes, she finally answered the summons, took one look at him and Pilar, and said in an icy tone, “I don’t allow men to have women in their rooms, Mr. Yates.”

  “This is my wife, Pilar, Mrs. Fitzhugh.”

  Her attitude instantly gentled. “Oh, then come in. Were you married today?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she’s such a pretty little thing. Lucky too, eh, Pilar. Not many women are blessed with such a handsome man. I remember my wedding night. I was so afraid, but when my Jamie began—”

  At the sight of Pilar’s appalled face, Noah cut her off. “We’re going to go on up, Mrs. Fitzhugh. My apologies for making you leave your bed to let us in.”

  She waved him off. “No apologies needed. Have fun.” After throwing them a bold wink she padded back down the hallway to her room.

  After they climbed the dark stairway to the second floor, Pilar felt as if she was walking to her doom. She stood silently while he fit his key into the lock of one of the doors.

  “Stay here a moment and let me light the lamp.”