Hope Redeemed--A Spanish Novella Read online

  “Antal, just give me a couple of days to think things through. I’ll need to talk to Caleb. You’ve been extremely generous, and I’d be a fool to turn you down.” He grinned sheepishly. “But you know me. A creature of habit. Once I find my patch, I don’t like to leave it. Just give me a few days to get used to the idea.”

  A bright woman’s voice cut through the general chatter and Francine bore down upon them.

  “You’ve had a chance to talk? Good. And what do you think, Santiago?”

  Antal pecked his wife on the cheek. “He was just saying he’ll give it serious thought. What do you reckon, Santiago? Could you give us an answer, say by the end of the week? If you don’t come over, we’ll have to extend our search.”

  “End of the week? Sure. That should be plenty of time.”

  4

  “Just so you know, Caleb. I’ve made a formal offer. I’m talking about Josefa and me. In business and in life. She hasn’t given me an answer yet, but I’m highly optimistic.”

  Leo Carver gave Josefa a conspiratorial look and squeezed her arm for all to see. He smiled smugly at Caleb. “She’d be a fool to turn me down, don’t you think?”

  Josefa’s expression was unreadable. She quietly unlinked her arm and surreptitiously increased the distance between herself and the insufferably confident attorney.

  Caleb’s mouth momentarily dropped open, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. Then he quickly regained his composure.

  “Really, Leo? A rather unconventional approach for a lawyer, I’d suggest. But I suppose the circumstances might require . . .”

  His voice trailed off as he regarded his sister. “Are you okay, Josefa?”

  “Perfectly fine,” she replied in a clipped tone, sinking into a space on the sofa next to Benecio.

  Santiago had been standing behind Benecio, hoping to draw her aside for a quiet chat, when Josefa and Leo had reappeared. He felt as if he was invisible, falling off the edge of his known world. He gripped the back of the sofa, as if to reassure himself he was actually present. Josefa and Leo? They’ve known each other three minutes!

  When Josefa spoke, her voice had a breathy quality, as if she too was in a state of shock. “There are some matters we’ll need to discuss, Caleb. As Leo says, this is a business proposition.”

  Caleb frowned. “I see. Anything to see you settled and happy, Josefa. As soon as we get home, we can talk.”

  5

  Santiago wanted out. As soon as possible, if not right now, because being at Rancho Del Oro — particularly anywhere near Leo and Josefa — was intolerable.

  Since they’d come home from Charles Esterhazy’s christening two days ago, Leo had been staying at the ranch, getting to know Josefa better and conducting whatever negotiations he deemed necessary with Caleb, who wore a constantly harried expression.

  Santiago had no idea what they were talking about, and he didn’t want to. He just wanted to stay clear of them all.

  The dull ache in his heart when he thought of Josefa marrying the man who had ruined his childhood couldn’t be ignored. He didn’t know what upset him more: that Leo was the man Josefa seemed to have lined up, or that she was getting married to anyone except him.

  Because now that he was confronted with the brutal reality — Josefa needed a husband — the more he saw he was nowhere in the running.

  He had nothing to offer of either substance or status. She was the granddaughter of a noted Spanish house, the daughter and sister of a substantial run-holder, and he was a cowboy who ran a team.

  The more he pondered his situation, the more clearly he saw what he had to do. His best option, his only option really, was to accept Antal’s offer of a position at Orleans Hill and move on as soon as he could.

  It was with that very thought in mind, his limbs pleasantly fatigued from a day in the saddle, that he made for the house as long shadows sloped across the yard, seeking out Caleb to hand in his resignation.

  Caleb was in the small sitting room off the main family area they used as a de facto office, sitting back in his chair behind the desk with a vague, dazed expression.

  “Santiago! Come in, come in. It’ll be good to talk to someone with his feet on the ground. Please, please. How’s it going out there? I’ve hardly had a chance to think about the stock for the last couple of days.”

  He drew his arm across his brow and gestured to the door. “Close it, will you?”

  Santiago pulled the door closed behind him and sank into the chair in front of Caleb, his fingers twitching. He’d been Caleb’s right-hand man for the last seven years, an apprentice vaquero for three years before that. Ten years in all. He’d felt so accepted as part of the household here under Stewart matriarch Doña Valentina’s strict but kind attention he’d never imagined being anywhere else. Funny how quickly things can change.

  When he’d turned up at Del Oro as a thin, shy seventeen-year-old desperate for work, Josefa had been an annoying thirteen-year-old who pestered everyone to go riding with her. She’d been close enough to Francine in age for him to feel comfortable in her company, and she quickly became one of the few people around whom he could be himself.

  “This damn business with Josefa and Leo. It’s driving me nuts.” Caleb rubbed the side of his face with a distracted air. “I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

  Santiago gave a reluctant nod. He didn’t want to know anything about it.

  “I’ve only just cottoned onto it, Santiago. But you know Leo well, right? You grew up with him?”

  Santiago nodded even more reluctantly.

  “So what do you make of him?”

  The vaquero shook his head. “Oh, I’m not the one to ask. We never got on.”

  Caleb’s eyes settled on him with pin-prick focus, the distracted air gone. “Oh? Why was that?”

  Because he’s a first-class bastardo? An obnoxious jerk?

  Santiago shrugged. “Don’t know. I was a couple of years older than he was. I was treated like a son in the house until he came along. Then I became the poor relation and he was the son and heir.” He shrugged again. “You’d think he’d be happy with that, but he never let up on reminding me I was ilegitemo.”

  “Oh? I’m sorry, Santiago. I had no idea. If you’d rather not talk about it . . .”

  Santiago set his head to one side and regarded his boss.

  “It’s fine. I never knew my father. He was a married man. I don’t even know who he was. My mother was an innocent, the youngest daughter. Benecio’s sister, as you know. She died when I was born. If she’d lived — well, who knows? She’d probably have had an awful life. Everything was fine while Benecio was single and looking after me as the maiden aunt, but after she married, things changed.”

  He stood up, suddenly uncomfortable in his seat. “Look, Leo’s got the pedigree. Good family. Money. Education. He’s not particularly nice if you get on the wrong side of him, but that’s not a cardinal sin, is it?”

  He fixed his gaze on Caleb. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about Leo. I wanted to tell you. Antal’s offered me a job at Orleans Hill, and I think I’ll take it. I wanted to let you know, to offer my resignation.”

  6

  Caleb stared, his jaw slack.

  “What brought this on? I thought you were happy here.”

  “I am, mi amigo. Very happy. But things are changing. The world. Changing so fast. Ranching is changing. You know it yourself. Miller and Lux — and the other big beef operations — they’re turning it into an industry, and the vaqueros are becoming factory workers. You and I are almost yesterday’s men and we’ve barely reached thirty. I’ve got to think about how I’m going to ever support a family.” He stared at his boss, willing him to understand. “You’re all set up here, Caleb. You’re about to marry Madeleine, set up your own household. It’s not like that for me. Antal and Francine got me thinking, and they’re right. I can’t spend any more time on horseback if I’m going to amount to anything. They’ve said they’ll make me a partner if
I put in the time and learn the business. That’s just too good an offer to refuse.”

  Caleb rose from his desk, shook his head. “We could give you a job at the vineyard if you want to get into wine. Santiago . . .”

  Is Caleb pleading? Santiago just stared back, not speaking.

  “Damn it, Santiago, I don’t want to lose you.” Caleb flicked a wary look toward the door and lowered his voice. “Especially now, with this business with Josefa.”

  Santiago felt the heat of rising impatience. “What business with Josefa? I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

  Caleb sighed. “You know the predicament she’s got herself into. Even before this Leo thing reared its head, I’d been talking with mother about settling some of the ranch on her in a trust, so she’s got some independence. I know she’s desperate for some recognition of her place here.

  “Under the old Spanish laws — you know, like when my parents married — women could own property independently of their husband. Since the Yanks took over California and started pushing English laws that’s fading away.

  “So I thought — well, actually my lawyer, good old Tom Halliburton suggested I should set it up as a trust, just to protect her and any children if things go wrong. Now that Leo’s on the scene it’s got a whole lot more complicated. Seems he’s violently opposed to the idea of a trust. And Josefa doesn’t seem to know what she wants to do.”

  He buried his head in his hands and massaged his forehead.

  “Tell you what, Santiago. Let’s go for a bit of a gallop to clear my head. I’ll tell you all about it while we’re out. Before those two turn up again. I’ve had about as much as I can stand.”

  He stood and grabbed a riding hat from a hook on the wall. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Get out of where?”

  Josefa stood proud and tall in a carmine dress that underscored her passionate dark looks — the fall of black hair onto her shoulders, the generous mouth that was curved into a question as she blocked Caleb’s exit. Standing behind her, his hand draped possessively over her right shoulder, was Leo.

  In the few days since the christening she seemed to have grown in confidence. Her voice carried no sign of the frustrated complaint Santiago heard so often from her — that life wasn’t fair, that no one treated her seriously. Her direct gaze challenged her brother as an equal, someone who, despite the six-year difference in age, was entitled to expect answers.

  If this was Leo’s influence, it was all to the good, Santiago acknowledged grudgingly.

  “Santiago and I are just going for a ride. Get some fresh air. Clear our heads.”

  “Caleb, you know we want to move things along here. We want to see the priest in the next few days about reading the banns. Leo can’t hang around here forever. He’s got work back in San Francisco.”

  “Sure, sure, Josefa. I understand what you’re saying. I’m doing as much as I can. Halliburton is drawing up the papers. I can’t do any more than that.”

  “Papers?” Leo interjected a sharp note. “I need to be consulted on any papers — consulted in detail.”

  He switched his attention from Caleb to Josefa though he still lazily traced the back edge of her dress with his index finger. He bent his face close to her ear and for a gut-wrenching moment Santiago wondered if he was going to nuzzle her ear in front of them. His stomach churned with an unpleasant sick feeling.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Leo pulled back. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

  Santiago flicked his focus to the window in the outside wall, trying to tune out proceedings inside the room. This was a private matter. It was like eavesdropping on personal secrets. It didn’t concern him, and he didn’t want to be here. He stepped toward the door. “I’ll meet you outside Caleb. I’m not needed here.”

  Leo stepped aside to let him out. “No, you’re certainly not. Haven’t you got better things to do?”

  Santiago stopped in his tracks, watching Caleb. His boss rarely lost his temper, but his pursed lips, the rising color in his face, told him this was one time when he was finding it hard to stay calm.

  “That’s not necessary or welcome, Leo. And for your information, the papers Halliburton is preparing are as I originally indicated. They’re a settlement for Josefa’s future, protected in a trust to ensure her independence.”

  Leo’s posture stiffened, and it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. The closest comparison Santiago could think of was being on horseback on an open plain immediately before a tornado struck. He took another couple of steps towards the door.

  Leo’s voice again stopped him in his tracks.

  “And I told you that wasn’t acceptable. We’re not living in some Mexican colony under the latest Royal Cédula from Spain. We’re living in America, in 1870, under American law. And if I’m giving your sister my name, my respectability, my status and protection, I expect all the due recognition of a husband under American law.”

  Leo’s voice had risen in volume, and Josefa’s stance stiffened. Her jaw jutted forward as she stared at Leo, her eyes wide in a chalky face.

  Santiago couldn’t take another step. His feet were fixed to the floor, hating the tableau as it unfolded before him, but unable to look away.

  “Now look here, Leo,” said Caleb. “Josefa has no need of your status. Or your respectability. She’s got as much of both as she wants or needs, in her own right. What are you on about?”

  “Caleb, I don’t need you to—” Josefa’s eyes were suspiciously bright, and her voice cracked.

  Leo ignored her. “On her own? She got herself knocked up by some cowboy who got himself killed, and she doesn’t need the protection of a husband? For God’s sake, what sort of brotherly care is that?”

  He glared at Caleb, and then Santiago, his lips peeled back to show wolfish white teeth.

  Santiago flexed his hands. He wanted to step back, right back into the fray he’d moments ago been trying to escape, and lace his fingers around Leo’s sinuous neck and throttle him.

  Caleb’s focus was on Josefa. “Josefa, I’m so sorry—”

  “I don’t need your pity, Caleb.” Her voice was cutting. She’d moved toward Santiago as she spoke, her shoulders tense, her face gray and stony. “You men really are all as bad as one another.”

  As she pushed past him, Santiago caught a whiff of her familiar fragrance, an intoxicating mix of lavender and vanilla, deceptively simple and yet oh so complex. Just like the woman who wore it.

  7

  “Caleb, I really need to talk to you.”

  “It’s not a good time, Santiago.”

  “Seems there’s likely not going to be one around here anytime soon. Life goes on, and I need to move on too. I need to know — what are you going to do? Hire a new manager or promote one of the boys we’ve got now?”

  They were sitting over the remains of a late ranch breakfast. Doña Valentina and the courting couple had gone into town, so they had the place to themselves, at least for now.

  That was a relief in itself. Santiago was amazed that after his display yesterday, Josefa hadn’t sent Leo packing. She was a lot stronger than he — and, he suspected, she — had realized. Obviously the prospect of settling into her own home held such strong appeal she was willing to try and work something out. Maybe she did really love Leo. He was good-looking enough.

  “Still trying to think that one through. Quite honestly, I can’t seem to get past the Leo negotiation.”

  Santiago had no idea where the negotiations rested, and he felt sorry for Caleb having to deal with this unholy mess. But it’s nothing to do with me.

  “Thing is, the more time I spend in that man’s company, the more unsettled I feel about him.” Caleb paused to gulp some coffee. “Something doesn’t feel right. If he’s so interested in Josefa, why does it matter if she retains control of her own money? They’re still married. They’ll share things.”

  Santiago pulled a wry face in agreement. “I did have similar thoughts
myself. And the way he talked to her yesterday — it was brutal. I hope she’s not going to hear that kind of stuff too often.”

  Caleb stood to take his cup to the kitchen. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I need your help.”

  “I don’t see what I can do as far as Josefa’s concerned. The ranch, yes. But the animals were all fine the last time I looked.”

  “Nothing to do with the animals. I need you to do some digging on Leo.”

  Santiago’s stomach lurched. “You what? Oh, come on, Caleb. I’m not any sort of Pinkerton. I’m an ordinary old vaquero. That’s the beginning and end of it. You’ve got the wrong man.”

  “A not-so-ordinary vaquero, Santiago. And didn’t you tell me you practically grew up with the fellow? You’ve got access to the people who know him best, and they’d trust you.”

  “I’m not so sure of that. They all know there was no love lost between us.”

  “If you won’t do it for me, do it for Josefa. You two seemed to be getting on so well after that rescue from Consuela’s.”

  Santiago’s neck flushed pink. He could feel the warmth building under his shirt.

  A few months back Rory Mackinnon’s stepmother had tried to influence Josefa to give false testimony against Caleb. Between them, Santiago and his boss had plucked Josefa out of an impossible situation.

  He rubbed his neck uneasily. The last thing he needed was for Caleb to guess about his pathetic crush on his sister.

  “She’s a good kid who’s had a hard time. It was the least I could do.”

  “Well, make this just one more thing. The last thing you can do for her. Just reassure me that Leo’s got no nasty secrets, that I’m not turning my sister over to a bounder, and I’ll let you go. I hate doing it, but I will. But only if you help with this last thing.”

  Santiago gulped back the last cold dregs of his breakfast coffee, banged down the cup and punched Caleb lightly on the arm. “You’re a canny brar, you know that?”