Benjamin and his team rose before most of the house to ride out to the San Juan Creek. No one would call it a creek at the moment, despite its name, or the fact it dried up completely during the summer. Now, a swollen, gushing river of deep brown water, it raced toward the sea. Steady and relentless, fed by the rain throughout the night, the smaller tributaries poured into San Juan, threatening widespread flooding.
Phone discussions with other team members assigned to the Santa Ana further north confirmed reports of more serious flooding across the entire county basin. The Santa Ana bridged its banks overnight, spreading across the lowlands of the valley, flooding orchards, fields, and towns in its path. At this point, engineers couldn’t do much but help local authorities rescue people and livestock.
South of the worst flooding, Benjamin and his team returned to the estate to record the local conditions. Late afternoon, Benjamin turned his attention to Maria, though thoughts of her threatened his professional focus all day. Memories of her kisses popped up any time his mind strayed from his work, along with a simmering resentment towards her father for forcing actions Ben wasn’t sure Maria wanted to take.
What did she think about their betrothal? Nothing positive since he hadn’t met with her yet. Eventually, his conscience became so troubled he excused himself from the library after the servants entered with refreshments. While his men dug into the trays of food, he slipped out to look for Maria.
No one knew where she’d gone at first. An alarm went up as her parents realized she’d left the house with Pierre an hour earlier, during a lapse in the rain, intending to take the Henry Scott Tuke painting to the closest gallery in Laguna. They’d taken one of the family vehicles, a new Cadillac Sixties Special. Domingo was as furious over Maria’s taking out his new car as he was worried about her safety.
Benjamin was annoyed with the Frenchman, putting Maria in danger. Did their feelings for each other run deeper than he’d thought? What if she and Pierre were eloping?
“We are setting the date of your wedding as soon as possible,” Domingo muttered to Benjamin. “I’ve watched over her for two decades. I expect you to watch over her for the rest.”
Benjamin wisely kept his mouth shut. All that mattered was bringing Maria home safe.
Hoping to take advantage of the remaining daylight, he and Larry went after the two using one of the utility Ford Stake trucks from the orchard operation. The cab only held three people, but the greater ground clearance and larger tires meant less chance of stalling in deep water or getting stuck in mud. Benjamin commandeered the driver’s seat.
On the road, he endured Larry’s questions about his role in finding Domingo’s daughter, and Benjamin confessed he and Maria were engaged to be married. All Larry did was grin with delight.
“You’re not surprised?”
“I’m collecting my hundred bucks as soon as we get back,” Larry crowed.
“The guys placed bets on me marrying Maria?”
His colleague quirked an eyebrow at him. “Made our wagers last fall before she left for Europe. Upped the ante last night after dinner.”
“What?”
“Come on. The sparks fly every time you two cross paths. Anyone can see you’re stuck on the dame.”
“She’s always provoking me into a disagreement!” Benjamin protested.
“You two have a curious way of flirting,” Larry responded, chuckling.
Benjamin swung the truck around, avoiding a downed branch stranded in the middle of the road.
“That’s not flirting. That’s arguing.”
“She wants you to pay attention to her.”
“I can’t not pay attention to her.”
“I’m not sure she knows. You play it pretty cool.” Larry grabbed hold of the door handle to steady himself as they bumped over more debris in the road.
“She’s too young for me.”
“Pshaw. Maria and you each need someone to challenge you.”
“Challenge me?”
“Yeah, otherwise, you think you’re right about everything. If anyone else disagrees with you, you decide they’re idiots and dismiss them. When Maria disagrees with you, you get worked up, engage, and sometimes, she bests you. Have you ever thought her an idiot?”
He cursed. “Not until today. What was she thinking, leaving the house during this storm?”
“I assume Daddy is making you get hitched.”
“He talks as if Maria needs taken care of. She’s not a child.”
“No, not a child.” Larry sent him a sly look. “Though she is a doll.”
Benjamin growled. “She’s off limits to you. Chase after one of her cousins.”
Larry cracked up.
The route to the coast remained open. They navigated through a couple of risky points where the water ran deep over the road. As they plunged through, they held their breaths. The water could hide deep crevices or hidden currents powerful enough to sweep the truck off the road. Halfway to the coastal highway, they spotted the Cadillac partially submerged in a channel of flowing water. Benjamin thought his heart would pound its way out of his chest. He pulled over, but he stayed clear of the steep ditch.
The car seemed stable, its hood submerged, the trunk sticking up, riding a large boulder like a cowboy on a bucking bronco—though the situation could change if the current increased or the car slid off the rock. The Cadillac was empty. It looked as if Maria and Pierre had probably escaped through the driver’s door, positioned closest to the road.
Benjamin refused to imagine them being swept down into the water when they exited the vehicle. He was familiar with this stretch of road, certain there wasn’t anywhere to shelter. Since they hadn’t passed them yet, they must have set out on foot to finish their journey, perhaps deciding the hike back up to the estate would be more difficult.
In the truck, Benjamin and Larry continued towards Laguna Beach. On the coastal highway heading north, they skirted around several mud slides. At one point, the rain picked up again, slowing their progress, the visibility decreasing, and his frustration increasing. Had Maria made it somewhere safe? If they married, she was never putting her life in danger again. She’d know how deeply he’d feared for her.
“We’ll find them, safe and sound, drinking cocktails at some expensive restaurant,” Larry assured him. “Then you can decide whether to kiss her or put her over your knee.”
Benjamin managed a grim smile. He wanted Maria horizontal, but not over his knee. She was like a young filly, high-spirited, full of energy, but wary of being controlled. As much as her father loved her, he used a heavy hand forcing her into a marriage she might not want. Any young woman would rebel against the situation. Benjamin’s guilt over his part in the previous night’s events vied against his increasing desire to marry Maria. Benjamin didn’t want to start a marriage with a reluctant bride. He wanted her trust, not her fear. He wanted her acquiescence, her enthusiasm, not her resistance.
Benjamin needed to trust her, too. A challenge at the moment after she’d foolishly gone out in the storm with the damned painting. And the Frenchman. If that was why she’d left the estate. Knowing how she valued integrity, she never would have kissed him if she had an understanding with Pierre. He should have seen her first thing this morning. Impressed on her the dangers of this storm, let her know, despite her father’s demands, Benjamin would never force her into anything. Let her know he wanted to marry her.
“By gawd, I’m in love with her!”
Larry slugged him in the shoulder.
He nearly swerved off the road.
“Finally.”
Benjamin ignored his buddy’s teasing. He was in love with Maria Galtero. Had been for some time. Had missed her the entire time she’d been halfway across the world. He fought against his frustration fizzling into true dread. Maria grew up here, knew the roads, the weather, and the terrain. The storm might have swept the car off the road, but she’d escaped to safety.
Just then, two bedraggled individuals appeared, the taller one limping.
“Maria!”
She ran towards the truck as he stopped and jumped out. He caught her in his arms.
“Gracias a Dios,” she cried. “Pierre’s hurt his leg.”
“You’re soaked through and frozen.” Benjamin stripped off his coat and set it over her shoulders, helping her slip her arms into the sleeves. As soon as she was covered, she huddled in his arms.
Holding Maria tight, he gave Pierre a hard stare to let him know his displeasure. The guy deserved more than a hurt leg.
They fit themselves into the truck. Taking care to turn safely, so the truck didn’t slide off the road, Benjamin headed back towards the estate. No one spoke, the tension in the cab thick as everyone processed the events of the afternoon.
With Maria snug against his side, Benjamin turned his attention to getting her home. They slowed as they passed the Cadillac, still trapped on the rocks. If the water rose, it might eventually get swept away, becoming a total wreck by the time anyone recovered it.
“Wait!” Maria said. “The painting.”
“It’s in the trunk,” Pierre explained.
“It’ll be ruined by now,” Ben stated.
“We have to save it,” Maria insisted. “It’s a masterpiece.”
Unable to refuse her, Benjamin stopped the truck.
“The car could get swept away at any minute,” Larry warned.
Benjamin looked down at Maria, her face dejected.
“I’ll get it.” He shifted the gears into park and jumped out.
Before he could close the door, Maria followed him out.
“What are you doing?”
“You might need my help.”
“Get back into the truck before the water carries you away.”
“No.” Her face settled into the same stubborn scowl she displayed whenever they argued. Could she be worried about him?
Since he was drenched now, he nodded. He needed to speed this along. “Stay back though.”
She strode around him towards the car, while he hustled to get ahead of her. Retrieving the painting would be difficult for him, and he was twice her size.
Fortunately, the running water was not as deep as it appeared, and when he waded in and tested the stability of the car, it didn’t move. He looked back and discovered Maria hovering at the very edge of the water flow. Christ. He popped open the trunk and maneuvered the painting out and under his arm. Besides several layers of paper, an old India rubber cloth raincoat protected the artwork from the rain.
Trudging his way back to Maria in waterlogged boots, he nearly went down. She sprang forward into the water to help stabilize him, wrapping her arm around his back while he held the painting up out of the water. Together, they found their footing, negotiating the last few feet to the rough dirt road. He breathed a sigh of relief.
It took a few minutes to fit the painting into the cab of the truck and close the doors. Fortunately, both Larry and Pierre veered scrawny, and Maria defined petite. The painting ended up jammed in across the passengers’ laps, leaving only Benjamin with a clear view out the windshield.
Maria half hiccupped, half sobbed into his arm.
“Your father won’t care about the car once he sees you're safe,” Benjamin said.
Maria laughed in disbelief. “He loves that car. My mother gifted it to him on his last birthday.”
Pierre groaned. “It appears I will have worn out my welcome.”
“The rain won’t let up for another couple of days,” Larry told him cheerfully.
Benjamine thought the young man deserved a couple of days of discomfort in the Galtero home.
“I’ll tell Papa I drove,” Maria promised.
“You’d take the blame?” Pierre asked her, hope shading his accented voice with relief. Benjamin realized how young the kid sounded. Far less mature than Maria.
“Of course,” Maria assured him. “You’re my friend and my guest. I won’t let Papa punish you for an accident.”
Benjamin’s animosity towards the Frenchman made him clench the wheel, imagining Pierre’s neck. Maria might face her father’s wrath for leaving the house during a severe storm, but if the Frenchman drove the car off the road, then Maria was not taking the blame.
Benjamin struggled against a wave of jealousy, followed by a sense of fear. She’d traveled with the guy for months, enough time to develop something more than friendly affection. All Benjamin had were fleeting moments, mostly in the company of her whole family, spread out over a year. He’d spent his time with her sparring over intellectual ideas instead of wooing her. He’d been a fool.
Maria laid her head on his shoulder, and his breathing leveled out. He rested his cheek against the crown of her head. Surely, she wouldn’t cuddle with him if she had feelings for the Frenchman. Was she turning to Benjamin because of their sudden betrothal, or something more?
He focused on his driving, determined to get her back to the estate to a hot bath and dry clothes. He’d build the fire into a blaze and settle her next to it, tucked in with quilts, a hot toddy to heat her insides.
The rain grew heavy again, sheeting down and obscuring everything beyond the truck’s hood. The road subsided into a mess of eroded soil, deep ruts, and dark patches of moving water obscuring potential dangers. Dusk descended. Benjamin kept their speed steady, praying they wouldn’t run into anything.
About three quarters of the way back to the estate, they encountered the fallen branch again. Looked like the rest of the tree had joined it. The branches lay solidly across the road, blocking their route.
“There’ll be another way, right?” Pierre frowned in consternation.
“There’s a fire trail back about a half mile. It winds up through the hills behind the stables,” Maria confirmed.
“This road is barely passable. It’s unlikely a track through the brush will be,” Benjamin countered.
“We ride it on horseback often enough to pack the dirt,” Maria claimed. “The truck has enough ground clearance for any scrub.”
“What about mudslides?” Larry asked.
She pursed her lips. “The ascent is gentle. If we don’t bog down in the mud, we should get through.”
Maria knew this land better than Benjamin did. He’d focused his surveys along the creeks, not the ravines.
“If you think we can make it up the fire trail, let’s do it,” he told her.
She bestowed a smile—not flirtatious or provoking, but approving—and it took away Benjamin’s breath. He’d be sure to credit her with the ingenuity of getting them back to the estate. And if she’d have him, he’d marry her the minute they got a license.
The initial entrance to the fire road lay under brush and low-growing trees, but once he transitioned from the graded road to the track, he found the grasses and scrub, flattened in the rain, helped serve as a layer between the wheels and the saturated soil underneath. The rough ride bounced them up and down, but they reached the estate only slightly bruised. Benjamin parked alongside the horse barn.
Larry and Pierre clambered out, wrestling the painting out with them. When Maria moved to follow, Benjamin tightened his hold to keep her with him.
Larry winked as he slammed the passenger door shut and yanked the lame Pierre towards the house. Benjamin turned off the engine and took a moment, listening to the inner workings of the truck tick and clang from the cooling machinery.
Maria stared ahead at the window as it slowly steamed up.
“We need to talk.”
She nodded.
“I worried when I learned you left during the storm.”
“I can take care of myself,” she said tartly, bristling so defensively, he had to suppress a smile. She looked like a drowned kitten.
“I know you can.” Mostly. “But bad things can happen to anyone. I can’t let them happen to you. Not over a painting. If it was just the painting.”
She stiffened.
He thought she’d launch into a defense of art again.
Instead, she sighed instead, sagging back against the seat.
“Because my father is making you marry me?”
“If I didn’t want to marry you, Maria, I wouldn’t. And I don’t think your father would force it, either.”
He reached for the door handle, but she stopped him.
“Why are you marrying me?”
His walls rose. All his life, he’d learned emotional vulnerability invited pain. His family taught him it daily, after his mother abandoned the ranch to go back to Billings. His father and older brothers had toughened him for a hard life. Though he’d traded the ranching life for a professional one in the city, he remained as stoic and reserved as any of the men in his family.
“I find you attractive,” he assured her. The most beautiful, fascinating woman he’d ever known.
“My body or my mind?” she asked.
“Your courage and intelligence. We might not agree on much, but I respect your ability to think for yourself. You know I like kissing you.”
“Are kisses enough to sustain a marriage?”
“They’re a damn fine start.”
“What about love?”
Benjamin watched the rain pick up, enclosing the truck in a new downpour, pounding the truck’s hood and roof, the volume of water a curtain cutting off the outside. He wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable, was he?
“I believe in loyalty and respect. Chemistry, of course, is a bonus.” He paused. “I think you like kissing me, too.”
“Have you ever been in love?” She brushed at nonexistent debris on her skirt.
“Have you?” He snuck a look sideways and got distracted by the way she chewed her bottom lip.
“Maybe.”
Yearning to be the one spread hot through his cold body.
“The Frenchman?”
She laughed, dryly. “No, not Pierre. Things might be easier if it were him.”
An ache in his chest swelled. He gripped the steering wheel. God, he wanted to kiss her right now. Make her forget anyone except him. But if she responded like she had last night, they would be in danger of anticipating their wedding night.
She pried one of his hands loose, linking their fingers together.
“Why didn’t you come see me this morning?”
“Does it count that I couldn’t focus on work? All I wanted to do was get back to you.”
She squeezed his hand.
“Papa told me he’s giving us land on the coast as a marriage gift, but I’ll move to San Francisco for you.”
Benjamin squeezed her hand back. “We’re not turning down California land on the coast. But that’s not why I’m moving to El Ocaso. I’m moving for you. I want to watch over you. Not just to keep you safe, but to see you continue to grow and develop, both as a woman and as an artist.”
The temperature in the truck rose, the windows fogged from their breath, hiding them from the world. He slid them into the middle of the bench seat, pulling Maria onto his lap, who looped her arms around his neck. She’d finally stopped shivering.
“I’m in love with you, Benjamin.”
Feeling relief, he lost himself in the inviting warmth of Maria’s eyes.
“How do you know?” His voice sounded rough like sandpaper, and the drumming of the rain outside mirrored the strange internal drumming in his ears. Maria wasn’t the only one needing reassurance.
“You listen to me. Even when we are disagreeing—which is most of the time—you don’t treat me like a fool. And I do like kissing you.” She glanced away shyly. “I’d like to watch over you, too.”
For a practical man who doggedly interpreted the world through his five senses, reason, and science, Benjamin suddenly sensed there might be things that transcended the literal. When he nearly fallen in the water, Maria hadn’t reached for the painting. She reached for him, and caught him. As his mind opened to the wonder of all the ways Maria would change his life, she poked him in the rib.
“I have one request, though.”
“Anything,” he agreed.
“Can I paint you?”
He groaned. “Not naked on a boat?”
She blushed. “For my private collection.”
“I’m kissing you now,” he warned.
She gave him an impertinent smile. “No. I’m kissing you.”
* * *
Note to the Reader:
Thank you for reading my story about Maria and Benjamin. Orange County suffered damaging floods many times prior to California building its dams, designed to control flooding. In the spring of 1938, during a one-week period, a series of storms out of the Pacific brought widespread flooding to the county. This storm plays a role in Benjamin’s and Maria’s story.
In fact, at the time, the Santa Ana River breached its banks, its canyon releasing an estimated 10,000 cubic feet of water per second during the storm. Houses were swept away, farmland ruined, and, sadly, people died. Though the flooding was worse near Anaheim, the entire county was affected. The event ultimately sped up the construction of Orange County’s Prado Dam in the fall of 1938. Today, a complex system of dams, lakes, reservoirs, and retention basins across the county manage the watershed of nine different natural water paths down from higher elevations to the sea.