CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A grove of ancient oaks shaded the picnic grounds on top of a hill overlooking the hacienda. Blankets spread upon the grass provided a lovely spot to rest and eat beneath the canopy of great trees. Oxen led by vaqueros towed the wooden-wheeled carts transporting the servants holding steaming plates and baskets of food up the hill to the picnic grounds. The Vasquez family was well practiced in entertaining guests this way in the grove. As the familia and their visitors indulged themselves on the ridge, vaqueros assembled below on the plain, practicing feats of horsemanship for the onlookers above. Roman remained below with the cowboys, appearing every inch the vaquero on his palomino stallion.
“He is the best rider of them all,” Isabella said proudly. The girl had appointed herself Rachel’s dueña and refused to leave her side. Remaining close to Isabella was a smiling servant named Chatequa. Another Indian woman, not so cheerful, followed Maria around. These dueñas played a quiet role, doing little more than trailing the girls everywhere they went. Rachel smiled at Chatequa as she rested in the shade. The dark, round-faced servant with kind eyes grinned back at her.
The day was warm and vibrant, the sky sapphire blue with white puffy clouds drifting lazily along. “Will your brother come up here to eat?” Rachel asked Isabella. She hadn’t seen Roman since he left her and Steven in the vineyard early that morning.
“Probably not. He prefers to be with the vaqueros. If they don’t stop to eat, neither will he. This evening, the vaqueros will feast like wolves after their day is done.”
Rachel was disappointed. She wanted Roman to see that Steven did not sit beside her in the shade. Steven was now keeping his distance from her, reclining with Captain Mason on the other side of the picnic grounds. Don Pedro sat with Steven and Captain Mason, eating, drinking, and watching the cowboys down below in the plain.
Hours went by. Rachel reclined back on the grass under an oak tree after eating. Nobody seemed in a hurry to do anything. And she still felt the lingering weakness of her recent sickness. A little rest would do her good. She closed her eyes just for a short while.
When she awoke, she found herself alone on top of the hill except for a handful of servants cleaning up the picnic. Startled, she sat up, looking around for the others.
“They are at a horse race down below.” Eating a cold tortilla filled with meat, Roman leaned against the wide trunk of the tree she’d slept under. He was just a few feet away from her.
She scrambled to her feet. “How long have I been asleep?”
“I assured Isabella you would be safe in my care.” A wry smile twisted his lips.
She smoothed down her skirts and pushed the hair off her warm cheeks in embarrassment.
“One of the Yankees has captured Isabella’s attention. She’s down watching him.” Roman finished the tortilla and then pushed himself away from the trunk, stepping over to her side. He pointed below where everyone else had gathered. Capturing a lock of her hair, he tucked it behind her ear. “Are you feeling ill again? Is this why you sleep?”
“I’m all right.” His nearness made her nervous. The servants nearby pretended not to notice them under the tree together.
“My sisters are spellbound by the blue-eyed Americanos.” Roman plucked a leaf from Rachel’s locks and then stared intently into her eyes.
“It is natural, I suppose, for young women to notice young men.” Rachel felt breathless staring back at him.
“Maybe it is time for me to arrange suitable betrothals for my sisters. Maria especially needs a firm hand now that she is older.”
“You will choose Californio husbands for them?”
“Of course.” He turned away from her and walked into the open to overlook the horse race on the plain below.
Amid the dark heads of his family and Indian cowboys, the Americans stood out, along with the red-haired Maria, blond and brown-haired men with sun streaks in their hair from long days at sea. Rachel moved up beside him. Her insides knotted with apprehension as she noted his clenched jaw, that hard look overtaking his battered countenance.
“A revolution is brewing.” He kept his gaze on the race. “I may ride to San Jaun Bautista tonight. General Castro has called a meeting at his home. All Americanos not married to Californios must leave California at once.”
Rachel’s stomach tightened with dread. “What will you do?”
He turned to her. “The gente de razón are in an uproar. California is on the brink of war. Things are growing dangerous for you. And for them.” He pointed to the Americans at the bottom of the hill.
“Does my father know about this order for us to leave?”
“Castro is allowing those married to Californios to stay. All others must leave immediately.”
“So what will you do with me?”
“I have not decided.” No emotion showed on his face. “The man of God appears eager for you to return to New England with him.”
“Steven?” The thought of never seeing Roman again caused a lump to form in her throat. He’d taken liberties with her she never imagined a man taking, but her feelings for him were complicated. On one hand, he infuriated her. But on the other hand, the excitement she felt with him was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. He overwhelmed her, but he protected her too. She considered the way he’d cared for her so diligently in her illness. And how he could be kind and tender and sensitive, like when they’d perused the paintings together.
“Do not look at me that way. You will have a husband. But I have not decided who that husband will be.”
“You think I am merely in need of a husband?”
“All women have need of a husband unless they go to the convent.” He raked a hand through his hair. She realized he always did this when he grew agitated.
“Did your grandfather choose the man of God for you in New England, or did you choose him yourself?”
“Stop calling him that. His name is Steven.”
“I think he is a man who truly knows God.”
“Many people know God.”
“I do not think so. I have never met a man who speaks for God—except perhaps the padres. And some of them do not speak for God. They speak for Spain or Mexico. Or their own greed. Perhaps they speak for the devil.”
“Knowing God is not difficult.”
He laughed derisively. “You are such an innocent. The world is so much darker than you can imagine, pequeña .”
“God is greater than any darkness. Jesus is the light of the world.”
“But men prefer the darkness,” he said.
“The Bible says they do.”
“I am tired of all your God talk. If you stay here with me, you will learn to speak Spanish. You will teach our children about Spain where all my grandparents were born and you will not bathe in the creek without me.”
She felt as if he’d slapped her. And he shamed her too by reminding her he’d seen her bathing. Here was the side of him that infuriated her. “I know nothing about Spain. I would teach our children about God.” Her voice shook with indignation.
“Then you should marry the man of God.” His face hardened.
“Don’t you see that casting the Americans out of California will only lead to war with the United States? Men will die. Perhaps you will die.”
“I would willingly die for California.”
“What good would that do?”
“The Americanos want my land. They want my sisters. They want you. ” Without warning, he yanked her into his arms. “I could take you right now and make you my woman. My servants would scatter like chickens. Your precious man of God is but a scream away, but you wouldn’t scream. Right here under these oaks, I would make you moan, my little dove.”
“That’s not true!” Alarm swept through her. Angry heat filled her cheeks.
“It is true. I am not a boy when it comes to women. I can give you great pleasure, pequeña .”
“You are blind!”
“Maybe it is your pride blinding you.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. His face was so bruised it hurt to look at him.
“I am not prideful. You are the prideful one.” She tried to pull away from him.
He wouldn’t release her. “Oh, but you are prideful, little dove. You are so proud of your purity. Your holiness. You do not realize women are robbed of their purity all the time. Especially during war. You have no idea the danger you face here in California.”
“You are dangerous!” Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed as hard as she could.
He pulled her tightly against his body. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman,” he said huskily.
“Let me go,” she demanded.
He barked a command in Spanish to the servants. The Indians dropped what they were doing and scurried down the hill.
“Stop! Come back! Call them back.”
He used his leg to sweep her feet out from under her. They tumbled to the ground, him twisting his body to cushion her fall. His hands were everywhere at once. She opened her mouth to scream, but his mouth covered hers.
“Stop!” cried Isabella.
Roman sprang to his feet, leaving Rachel stunned on the ground.
Isabella raced over to kneel at her side. “What’s wrong with you, hermano ?” Isabella cried in outrage. “You promised not to wake her up. You promised to watch over her. You said she’s been sick!”
Without a word, he spun away and strode down the hill in the wake of the departing servants.
Rachel hugged Isabella.
“My brother needs another flogging from Papa! Juan told us General Castro has ordered all the Americanos to leave California. I came to tell Roman this awful news, and I find him going crazy. Everyone is going crazy in California!” Isabella burst into tears.
Rachel put her hand on Isabella’s cheek. “Roman already knows the Americans must leave.”
“What is going to happen to you? You can’t leave.” Tears coursed down Isabella’s cheeks.
“I don’t know, but God knows.”
“I don’t want you to leave. You must marry Roman right now.”
“I cannot marry your brother. He is filled with the devil.”
“He loves you.” Isabella defended him.
“That is not love. Lust and anger and pride are driving him.” Rachel began to tremble, thinking about what might have happened had Isabella not rescued her.
“I have never seen Roman act this way. I think it is you.”
“Me? What have I done?”
“You are not giving him what he wants.”
“Isabella, what your brother wants is wrong. It is a sin against God to kiss me. To touch me the way he touches me. I am not his wife yet.”
“That is why you must marry him now!”