him.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “A priest?”
Dominic nodded. “Compared to the soldiers, the bandits are gentlemen born and bred.”
Elspeth felt sick. “How terrible. They could have killed him.”
“Six months later Indino found the colonel who ordered the torture.” Dominic took the reins of the mare. “I’ll take the animals over to the corral for the night. I promised Father Leon I’d join him for dinner, but I have something to do first.”
Torres, thought Elspeth. Every evening before Dominic settled down for the night he would go back and assure himself there was no one following them. “Aren’t you going to stay with Father Leon too?”
He shook his head. “I’ll find a bed over at the cantina.” His lips twisted sardonically. “I’ll feel more comfortable there.” He started to turn away.
“Dominic.”
He paused to look at her.
“What did Indino do to that colonel?”
“I don’t think you’d want to know.” He walked away, leading their horses and burros toward the blacksmith’s corral.
Elspeth watched him for a moment before walking up the steps to the chapel. He was right. Barbarism and hardship confronted her every day; she didn’t need to expose herself to more. Every time she thought she had grown as hard and tough as Dominic, something happened to prove to her how soft and vulnerable she still was.
At least she was no longer physically soft. The first few days of the journey had been agonizing and she had thought she would collapse from sheer exhaustion. It had been a nightmare hiding her weariness from Dominic to prevent him from insisting on doing everything himself as he had that first night on the trail. But as the days had passed, Dominic’s wound had healed and she had found she, too, was becoming stronger. Her muscles were getting more supple, her endurance was increasing. The sun burned her skin in spite of the sombrero Dominic insisted she never be without, but the painful burn went away and her skin turned brown. She thought she looked like a withered hag, but she felt good. The knowledge that she was strong enough to withstand the elements and long hours on the trail, yet still have enough energy to help Dominic filled her with a serene sense of self-worth she had never before experienced.
“
Elspeth turned to see a small boy of about nine years of age standing on the step below her. His dark hair was a wild tangle, his face dirty, his shirt and trousers ragged. He was barefoot and the steps must have been terribly hot on the soles of his feet.
“You spoke to me?”
He nodded, his dark gaze fixed desperately on her face. “
“You wish money?” she asked gently. “I have very little but I’ll be glad to give you a peso.”
He shook his head so emphatically, flecks of dust flew from the wild black locks. “No, I wish nothing from you,” he said in Spanish. She had difficulty understanding him. The accent was different, harsher than the soft Castilian she had learned in Spain. However, there was no misunderstanding the smile he gave her. It was as innocently beguiling as that of a Botticelli cherub. “It is I who have a gift for you.”
Father Leon smiled as she came into the room. “You look
“She was very kind.” Elspeth hurried forward to take from him the tray containing an earthenware pitcher and a bowl filled with a savory mixture of chicken, corn, and green peppers. She had already found that the priest attempted to do far more than he should, given his infirmities. He was bent and twisted, scarcely able to shuffle without flinching, and yet he was trying to wait on them. “Sit down, Father Leon. This looks delicious. Has my husband come back yet?” She tingled with pleasure when she referred to Dominic in that possessive manner.
She set the tray on the long trench table and turned to look anxiously out the window. The sun was setting in a burst of radiant gold, scarlet, and mauve. It had been nearly four hours since they had arrived in Rosario, and she had seen nothing of Dominic since he had left her at the steps of the church. After these last two weeks she wasn’t accustomed to being separated from him for more than a few moments, and his absence made her uneasy.
“He will come soon.” Father Leon seated himself at the head of the table. “Dominic enjoys Maria’s chicken stew far too much to linger long at the cantina.” His smile faded. “You must encourage Dominic to stay away from the cantina now that he is a married man. There are many ungodly activities at Miguel’s. Gambling and…” He trailed off awkwardly.
Hetaeras. The unspoken word jumped immediately to the forefront of her mind. Of course there would be women for Dominic to enjoy here. Dark-eyed brown-skinned women who would welcome him into their beds. The thought brought such a wild thrill of pain, she had to lower her lashes to veil her eyes from the priest. “Did he stay at the cantina when he was here before?”
Father Leon nodded. “When he wasn’t in the hills with Indino.”
Her lashes flew up. “He was a bandit?”
The priest smiled reassuringly. “No, he merely grew restless with us here and he and Indino became friends. It was natural they should, I suppose. In many ways they are much alike. Indino, too, is an unusual man.”
“Since I crossed the sea I’ve come to the conclusion there are no ‘usual’ men here,” Elspeth said dryly. “I believe I must have left all commonplace individuals in Edinburgh.”
Father Leon chuckled. “When men live without laws, their good qualities as well as their sins tend to be magnified. Perhaps because their temptations are so much greater.”
Elspeth frowned as she poured the frothy milk from the pitcher into polished wooden cups. He was again obliquely warning her about the temptations that would assault Dominic at the cantina. He didn’t understand that there was nothing she could do to keep Dominic from going to those fallen women. He had married her to protect her, probably considering that the full discharge of his duty to her. He had not made promises of fidelity, and there was nothing she could do to prevent him from taking his pleasures where and when he wished. Her hand tightened on the handle of the pitcher as a wild thought occurred to her. Unless-
“You look very thoughtful.” Father Leon’s eyes were narrowed on her face. “You must not be concerned, it takes time for two people to become accustomed to each other. I’m sure you will be able to persuade Dominic to give up drink, gambling, and-” he paused as if for inspiration- “other iniquities when he settles down and realizes how fortunate he is in his marriage to you.”
The priest’s words brought little comfort. If she was not with child, these two months were all the time she would have with Dominic. The realization brought a sense of desperation and caused that wild thought to come to mind once again. “I’m sure you’re right, Father.” She lit the fat tallow candle on the table. “I believe I’ll have to make Dominic realize he’s a married man now. I’ll consider what you’ve said.” She changed the subject. “I met a small child as I came into the church. He was very appealing.” She paused. “He wanted to give me a present.”
Father Leon nodded. “Ah, you are speaking of Rafael. I thought he would approach you before you left Rosario. It is a sad situation.”
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t believe Dominic would like me to accept Rafael’s gift.”
“Then you must not do it. A woman must obey her husband.”
“Sorry I’m late.” Dominic stood in the doorway, his hat in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “I took advantage of a hot bath to soak the dust out of my bones.” He held up the bottle and smiled at the priest. “I brought a peace offering, Miguel’s very best.”
“Which is very fine indeed.” Father Leon returned Dominic’s smile. “A fitting beverage to toast your lovely bride. Does she not look beautiful tonight?”
“Very beautiful.” Dominic didn’t look at Elspeth as he tossed his hat on a chair. “Amazing what a little soap and water can do.”
He meant that at least she was scrubbed clean of trail dust, Elspeth thought gloomily. She knew she wasn’t attractive to him, despite his polite agreement with the priest. He had seen her in Brianne’s dark brown riding skirt and white cotton blouse many times in the past two weeks. Then, too, she was tanned almost as berry-brown as those women she had seen by the fountain this afternoon, and didn’t a man want a woman like her to have a milky white complexion? She had a sudden memory of the beautiful white gown Rising Star had permitted her to borrow on that first evening at Killara. How she wished she had something lovely to wear tonight.
