The Spanish Outlaw Page 15

  He thanked Mrs. Summers for her assistance, and then she left. Draping several blankets around Vivian, Anton carried her to the captain’s quarters. The cabin boy had the room ready and the bed turned down. Gently, Anton laid her down and covered her with clean, dry sheets and blankets.

  The captain came up behind him and placed his hand on Anton’s shoulder. “I think you should get some sleep yourself.”

  “No, I cannot rest.”

  “She’s going to be fine. She’ll sleep peacefully, so I suggest you do the same.”

  Anton smiled. “Gracias.”

  The captain nodded, left the room and closed the door.

  Exhaustion consumed Anton, his limbs felt like great weights. But he mustered the strength to change his own clothes before climbing in beside Vivian. He took her in his arms and held her tight.

  Sleep beckoned. After kissing her forehead, he closed his eyes. Unbidden tears drizzled down his cheeks. He turned his face into the pillow and sobbed out his relief, thanking the Almighty for sparing Vivian’s life, once again.

  * * * *

  “Vivian, you’re looking healthier and seem so much stronger today,” Katherine Summers commented as she helped Vivian dress. “In fact, I hardly helped you with your bath this time.”

  Vivian chuckled as she crawled into bed. She wished she felt as strong as she led people to believe. Strange how being ill with a high temperature had taken so much out of her.

  “I may look healthier, but I’m not making as much progress as I’d like. I’m still very tired.”

  “Your strength will soon return.”

  “It’s been a week. Shouldn’t it have returned by now?” She sighed dejectedly.

  “But the point is, you are getting better by the day.”

  “Katherine, I want to thank you for helping me. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  The other woman smiled. “All I’ve done is to help you with womanly things. Anton should be the person you thank. He’s done everything else.”

  Vivian glanced down at her hands folded on her lap. “So I’ve been told by almost everyone who has come see me.” She met her new friend’s gaze. “But for some reason, I don’t believe it. I’m not saying everybody is lying, but Anton doesn’t seem like the kind of man who’d do something so selfless unless there was an ulterior motive.”

  Katherine laughed and moved to the bed and patted Vivian’s leg. “I know he’s not your uncle. I also know he’s changed, because the man I saw taking care of you worried less about himself and concentrated on you. Isn’t his love for you obvious?”

  The comment brought a burst of laughter from Vivian. “Love? That’s an emotion he’ll never have for me.”

  “You are wrong. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you. He loves you, but refuses to admit it to himself.”

  “No, he doesn’t love me, and even if he did, he cherishes his freedom more.”

  Katherine shrugged. “Perhaps he’s changed his mind since he thought he had lost you.”

  “I seriously doubt it.”

  A light knock interrupted their conversation. Both women looked up as Anton stepped into the room. When Vivian beheld his magnificence, she couldn’t halt the sigh from escaping her throat. In his casual shirt and trousers, he radiated masculinity. Long sideburns and trimmed goatee made him look more sensual, which caused her heart to skip in double-time.

  Realizing her thoughts had strayed, she shook herself free of the trance his presence caused. She had to control her desires. No, she had to make them disappear forever.

  “How is my patient today?” he asked cheerfully as he sauntered to the bed.

  “I think she looks healthier,” Katherine replied. “What do you think?”

  When Anton stroked Vivian’s cheek, her heart flipped again. She mentally cursed her weakness.

  “Yes, her complexion is back to its normal beauty.” Then his thumb dropped to her lips and caressed them lightly. “And the raspberry color on her lips nearly tempts me.”

  Vivian smiled, and noticed Katherine’s cheeks darken with embarrassment over Anton’s very intimate comment. Turning her head, Vivian pulled away from his touch.

  “But I do have good news,” he continued.

  “What is that?”

  “The physician says you can start eating solid foods.”

  She sighed. “Oh, that is excellent news. I’m getting rather bored of broth.”

  Katherine stood. “Well, I should return to my husband now.”

  Anton faced Mrs. Summers. “Thank you again for your help, Señora Summers.”

  “Please call me Katherine.”

  He nodded, and then like a gentleman, showed her to the door. Rather than coming directly to Vivian, he lingered while picking up the articles of clothing and towels she and Katherine had left on the floor. It surprised her to see Anton doing such a task, but she quickly squashed the hope rising inside of her. She had to remember he would not become the man she wanted.

  “It was very thoughtful of the captain to let us use his cabin until our mattress dried. But now we can move back into our room,” Anton mentioned casually.

  “Yes, I appreciate his kindness very much.”

  He dropped the clothes in a pile by the door for the cabin boy to take care of, then walked to the bed, and sat by her side.

  “You worried the captain,” he said.

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “And the physician told me you have made a quick recovery.”

  She smiled. “Thanks to a certain man’s singing talent, I was told.”

  He held her hand. “You do not remember?”

  “No. I only remember being cold and that my body ached, but that is all.” She paused. “But I do recall dreaming I attended your opera, watching you sing.”

  “I was extremely worried about you.” His thumb stroked her knuckles. “A lot of people were.”

  Shyly, she glanced at their joined hands resting in her lap. “It pleases me to have so many people concerned on my behalf. But I fear I don’t deserve it.”

  “You definitely made an impression on most. Many people have asked about your welfare. One woman, in particular.”

  Her gaze bounced up and met his. “Indeed? Who?”

  He shook his head. “I know not, my dear. But she says she must speak with you, posthaste.”

  “Did she give her name?”

  “No, but she hinted that you two know each other.”

  Unease washed over her. “Then perhaps I should see her and discover what is so important that she needs to meet with me.”

  “She is here now. Are you up for company?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “Do you wish me to stay?”

  Vivian had mixed emotions. How dangerous could the woman be? Vivian needed to rely on her detective instincts, but they’d steered her wrong on previous occasions. Did she dare risk being alone with a stranger, especially when just getting over pneumonia?

  “Perhaps you should be right outside the door, just in case.”

  Anton leaned forward and kissed her on the nose. “I will not be far, querida.”

  Vivian scooted up straighter, fluffing the pillows behind her then making certain the sheet and blankets covered her. Anton left, and after a few minutes, the door opened again and in stepped a woman.

  The same woman from up on deck.

  Except now, Vivian saw her better. Silver strands heavily streaked her once golden hair, and age lines coated her face. Vivian felt certain this woman would have been very beautiful at one time in her life, but her sad eyes and tight lips told a different story, one which most certainly held a lot of pain.

  The woman closed the door and stood silent. Her piercing stare made Vivian uncomfortable, and she fidgeted beneath the covers. The woman scrutinized her in an unnerving way.

  The longer the woman stared, the more her eyes filled with tears. Emotion tugged at Vivian’s heartstrings, yet the woman hadn’t even said
a word. Curiosity nearly killed Vivian, so it appeared she’d have to make the first move to create conversation.

  She cleared her throat and smiled the best she could under the circumstances. “I recognize you.”

  The woman’s gasp surprised Vivian.

  “You do?” The woman’s voice shook.

  “Yes. From up on deck. I noticed you staring at me a few times during the journey.”

  The stranger’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, yes. From up on deck.”

  Vivian motioned her hand to the empty chair beside the bed. “Would you care to sit?”

  The woman’s gaze bounced back and forth between the chair and Vivian a few times before she shook her head.

  “What is it that you need?” Vivian asked.

  From the stranger’s tight expression, Vivian knew something heavy weighed on the other’s mind. The woman’s bottom lip quivered slightly.

  Finally, the stranger pulled herself straight and lifted her chin. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  Vivian creased her forehead. Hadn’t they just covered this? “Yes. From up on deck.”

  The woman shook her head. “I’m not talking about that. I mean in your life while you were growing up.”

  Vivian narrowed her eyes, wariness filling her. “You know me from my childhood?”

  “Yes, Vivian.” Her voice softened. “I was the woman in labor with you for twenty-seven hours. You were a difficult birth, since you had turned slightly in my womb, so the mid-wife said.”

  Memories Vivian wanted to keep buried resurfaced. Images of her childhood floated through her mind, and the woman standing beside her resembled her mother perfectly. Reality crashed in around her, making her body chill, and her heart numb. It was her mother!

  Chapter Twelve

  Vivian blinked in stunned silence. Suddenly, the woman’s eyes seemed familiar, the tilt of her nose, and her pointy chin. Memories resurfaced, and in her mind she could imagine this woman in her home on her couch reading a book, in the kitchen cooking, then again at night tucking Vivian into bed. All the pain and suffering Vivian had experienced those days, months, and even years after her mother left, crept into Vivian’s chest and weighted it with emotion.

  Her mind flooded with heartbreaking memories of her father pacing the floor in their house and staring out the window for days on end. Nights she’d stayed awake listening to her father’s sobs, and many of those nights she’d also cried to sleep.

  She had waited every day, every month, every year for the moment her mother would come back into her life. As each year passed, Vivian hardened her heart against the woman who loved her family so little that she’d abandoned them.

  Back then, Vivian had the perfect words to tell her mother if the chance ever presented itself. Now the woman stood before her, and Vivian’s mind drew a blank. Shock held her heart and tongue prisoner.

  Scrunching the blankets with tight fingers, she kept her gaze on the woman proclaiming to be her mother...a title the other woman didn’t deserve now. Vivian cleared her throat, forcing herself to speak. “How do you know I’m your daughter?”

  “Over the years, I’ve hired detectives to search you out and inform me of my family. Then, not too long ago, I decided to see you for myself—to finally talk to you. That is how I knew when you and Mr. Romero were going to sail to Spain. I overheard Anton’s name at the ticket booth.”

  Vivian swallowed the lump of emotion caught in her throat. “Then it’s very unfortunate you had so many hours of labor with me. Could that be when you decided I was not fit to have a mother? Or did that time come after Matthew was born?”

  Eleanor Wentworth’s eyes filled with tears. She brought her hand to her mouth and covered the gasp that sprang forward.

  “You...misunderstood. That’s not—”

  “Please don’t.” Vivian held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.” A sob rose to her throat, but she willed it away, refusing to show an outward emotion. “I recall the day you left. That’s something implanted in my mind forever. There’s nothing you can do to change it.”

  Eleanor shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Please let me explain.”

  “No. You’ll be wasting your breath. Besides, I don’t have the patience right now to hear it.” Vivian flipped her hand in the air. “I would like you to leave. Now.”

  Her mother remained standing for a few moments longer as she stared at Vivian. Sorrow filled her heart for the obvious grief her mother experienced right now, but it didn’t come close to the grief Vivian’s family had suffered.

  Finally, Eleanor spun around and walked out the door. Vivian’s chest tightened, filling the silent void with the sound of deep breathing. It wasn’t until Anton stepped inside when she released her pent-up tears.

  He rushed to her side and took her in his arms. “Querida? What is wrong? Who was that lady and why did she leave crying?”

  “Oh, Anton.” She buried her face in his neck, clinging to his silk shirt. “You won’t believe it. I still can’t.”

  “Tell me,” he coaxed as he stroked her hair and placed a kiss on her forehead.

  “She...she’s...my mother.”

  He hitched a breath and pulled back, meeting her stare. “Your mother?”

  “Yes. After all these years...” She sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “She’d been watching me, even before we boarded the ship. She knew I was her daughter.”

  “Did she tell you why she left her family?”

  Vivian shook her head. “I don’t want to know, Anton. It won’t change a thing, anyway. She’s been dead to me for years.”

  He gathered her in his arms once more and rocked her gently. Her heart swelled with love for this man. Yet she wondered if she should allow these feelings for him at all, especially when he didn’t return them.

  She pulled away and swiped the moisture from her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Anton. I shouldn’t have broken down like that. I suppose the shock of seeing her...” She held her breath before the tears returned.

  Anton cupped her chin. “You do not need to apologize. I understand perfectly. Thank you for being open with me.”

  She shook her head. “It’s just that I’ve been a burden to you of late, and I don’t want you to take that responsibility any longer.”

  “It is my own fault. I should not have brought you with me.”

  She shrugged. “It’s too late to look back. We have to move forward with no regrets.”

  “But I should not have brought you.” He dropped his hand. “Because of my own selfishness, you could have died. Twice.”

  Anticipation bloomed in her chest, yet she dared not become too excited and read too much into his words. Could Mrs. Summers have been telling her the truth? Could he really love her, too? Vivian dared not hope for fear her heart would be crushed again.

  “Actually,” she said, “it’s been three times, but who’s counting.”

  “Three times? When was the third?”

  “At my house when that stranger followed us home.” She softened her words with a smile.

  The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile she thought adorable.

  “Will you ever forgive me?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t decided.”

  “I have something to show you.” He stood, walked to his trunk—the one that didn’t have the jewels—and dug deep inside. Pushing his clothes aside, he soon disclosed a secret opening in the lining. She sat forward and narrowed her gaze. He withdrew an object, then came back to the bed and sat.

  “I want to show you something given to me by mí padre two days before he died.” His hand opened to display a man’s large ring resting on his palm, a heavy band of gold with an eagle crest encircled in diamonds and rubies.

  Another piece of the missing jewels, perhaps?

  Inwardly, she scolded herself for thinking such a thing. To know the truth, she must ask him this time before jumping to conclusions. “It’s beautiful.”


  “This was handed down from generation to generation, from father to first-born son. I think mí padre knew his brother wanted to kill him, and that is why he gave it to me when he did. Usually, the father hands it over on his son’s wedding day.”

  She took the ring and studied the engraved name on the inside. Antonio Romero. “Why does it have your name?”

  “Antonio Romero is a family name, handed down to each new generation. When I was but a lad, mi madre called me Anton. I think she did that so she would not have to think of mí padre.”

  “Would you mind explaining that?” She shook her head, confusion filling her once again. Out of all the questions she had about his past, this one ate at her, causing doubt about his true identity. “Why wouldn’t your mother think that about your father?”

  “You once suggested I was an illegitimate child, but I am not. However, my parents were separated for fourteen years.”

  “Are you jesting?”

  “No.” Anton’s hand rubbed her leg. Warmth spread through her, but she couldn’t let her hopes run away with her thoughts.

  “My uncle,” he continued, “twisted the truth when he talked to your employer. My parents were married. When mí madre was five months pregnant with me, she discovered mí padre had been unfaithful. Without thinking or confronting him, she left and returned to her family in Italy. Padre was told that mí madre died in childbirth.”

  “Eventually we moved back to Spain and lived with my niňera, but we lived nowhere near my father’s house. Fourteen years later, Mother decided to go back to him for my sake because I was becoming unruly and needed a father.” He stopped and chuckled. “She arrived on the very day my father was to remarry. She walked right into the ceremony, in fact. My memory of that day is so vivid. You should have seen his face—and hers for that matter.”

  “But to shorten the story,” he said with another laugh, “Father welcomed us back into his home. It did not take long before my parents were happy again.” He shrugged. “I assume that’s why my uncle thinks I am a bastard child. Since he and Padre were not very close, my uncle did not know about mí madre’s pregnancy.”