Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) Read online

  "By marrying the mother?" Valentina was breathing deeply, waiting for his reply, knowing she would again try to make him understand who she was if he gave the right answer.

  "No, not by marrying the mother. I am a Vincente and I owe it to my ancestors and future generations to honor the name." Marquis was half delirious and did not know what he was saying. "I could not offer my name to one who was unworthy."

  "Are you saying that, even if you loved a woman and she was having your baby, you wouldn't marry her if she weren't good enough to bear your name?"

  "That is a fair assumption," he admitted, wishing the pain in his legs would lessen.

  "I don't understand you, Marquis. Why then would you offer to marry me, thinking I'm carrying another man's child?"

  She was unable to see the grim expression on his face, but she could hear the irony in his voice. "I offer you my name because you come from a good family background. I would never want you to be shamed before the whole world."

  Marquis could have said that he loved her and could not bear the thought of any man's dishonoring her. He wanted to confess his undying love for her, but he kept his silence. It was getting difficult to breathe, he was weak from loss of blood, and his leg ached painfully. He knew there was only enough air to last a few hours more.

  "Do not talk about your baby, Silver Eyes," he said in a soft voice while his hand moved up her arm to cup her breast. "Just let me hold you for the time we have left."

  Valentina forgot that she was angry with Marquis when his lips sought hers. She knew she should push his hand away, but she did not. Love, so precious and sweet, washed over her as his hands moved across her leg, pushing her gown upward. "I want no more than to hold and touch you," he breathed in a husky voice. "I can never have you for my own, but I will die touching you."

  Valentina tried to breathe as his hand moved her undergarments aside and found her hot flesh. With soft, stroking motions, he moved his hands between her thighs. It was crazy; it was madness—it was so right. Her lips quivered beneath his hot mouth. Valentina did not know if her head was spinning from lack of oxygen or from the maddening feelings Marquis stirred to life in her body.

  After a while his hand became still and she felt him relax. He did not move his hand but allowed it to rest against her stomach. 'The end is near, isn't it, Marquis?" she whispered.

  "Try not to think about it, Valentina. For the time we have left, let us play a pretend game. Did you ever do that as a child?" Marquis knew in a short time he would lose consciousness. He did not want to leave Valentina alone. If only she would go before him, he agonized. Dear God, don't let her be left alone in this hellhole, he prayed.

  "Yes, many times. What shall we pretend?"

  His lips rested against her temple. "Let's pretend that you are not going to have another man's child. Let us imagine that we are madly and passionately in love with each other, and know we are about to die. Do you think you can pretend that?"

  Valentina's heart cried out that there was no reason for her to pretend. As her lips brushed Marquis's, she felt the heat from his body and knew he was burning up with fever. He was delirious and did not know what he was saying. She supposed he thought dying would be easier if he pretended to be with someone he loved, and who loved him.

  "Yes, I love you with all my heart, Marquis. I would die alone if I could wish you to safety. I have loved you for a very long time. There has never been another man in my heart but you."

  His hand tangled in her hair. "Damn you for how easy the lies come to your lips," he said weakly. The anger suddenly drained out of him to be replaced with sorrow. He was giddy from pain. Fresh blood oozed through the bandage from the gash on his leg and trickled down his calf. "Do you remember the day you walked into my courtyard for the first time, Valentina?"

  "Yes, I remember," she admitted. How could she forget the day she first lost her heart to this dark, handsome Spaniard.

  "I fell in love with you at that very moment, Valentina. I knew that the woman my heart had always sought was standing before me. As I Game to know you, I realized you were dangerous to my peace of mind—to my way of life. I had to stay away from you or risk not doing what was expected of me by marrying Isabel."

  Valentina's head was pounding and she gasped for breath. How deeply his words wounded her—how well he played the game of deception. "It would seem lies come easily to your lips also, Marquis," she told him. He was saying the words that she had wanted to hear, but she had to remind herself that it was only a pretend game, to keep death's sting at bay.

  "If we get out of this alive, Valentina, you will marry me," he said again. With great difficulty, he sat up, moving to adjust her clothing. He did not want whoever found their bodies to see her with her skirt pulled up. The movement took every ounce of his strength.

  Falling back against the hard wall of the cave, he spoke in a voice that was no more than a whisper. "Come into my arms, Valentina. I have not the strength to come to you.

  Moving to his side, she swallowed a sob. Lying beside him, she pulled his head to rest against her shoulder. "My dearest love," she whispered, while tears of grief rolled down her cheeks. "Rest, my love. I will be beside you throughout all eternity."

  "Yes," he said through trembling lips, his eyes blurring with tears. "If we are to die, let no man disturb our grave so we can be together until the end of time." Marquis thought of all the things he would have liked to have shown Valentina, the things he would have liked to have shared with her. They would never grow old together—they would remain eternally young together, lost in the space of time.

  "Valentina, Silver Ey—"

  Valentina felt Marquis go limp and knew he had lost consciousness. Never had there been such a silence— never had she felt so alone. In panic, she touched Marquis's lips and felt his faint breath against her hand. She closed her eyes and prayed that she would die before Marquis. She could never live in a world without him. Perhaps this had been her destiny all along, to die with Marquis. Was this what Salamar had tried to warn her against?

  "My love, my only love," she cried through hysterical sobs, clutching his limp head to her heart. "I would never have been able to live with you as your wife—but I can die with you, as the woman you pretended to love!"

  20

  Valentina felt a pressure on her chest, as if something heavy was crushing against her. Clawing at the air, she tried to rise, only to find she did not have the strength.

  Slowly her eyes opened and she saw only darkness. A groan escaped her lips when she realized she had not been having a nightmare but was really trapped in a mine with the oxygen running out.

  Reaching out in desperation, she felt Marquis's arm and was relieved to find he was still alive. With her last bit of strength, she dragged herself the short distance to lay in his arms. Valentina was cold and found comfort in the warmth of his body.

  Valentina knew she and Marquis were slowly suffocating. She was somehow glad that Marquis was still unconscious, because he would not have to know the end was near. Thank God he would be spared that agony, she told herself.

  From a distance, she could hear a faint noise, as if someone were chipping at stone. In a haze of pain, she wondered if help had come at last, or if her tortured mind was merely conjuring up a rescue attempt. Groping in the darkness, she found Marquis's hand and held it up to her lips.

  "I . . . love you. . . ." she gasped with a last precious breath. "I . . . don't want you to die."

  It hurt to breathe. Each breath she took felt like sand rubbed across her throat. Attempting to draw in a deep gulp' of air, she felt her head swimming drunkenly. Slowly her head slumped to the side. The last sound she heard was that of picks chipping away at stone. In her hazy world, she believed she was only imagining that the sound of digging was growing louder.

  Tyree leaned into the heavy boulder, pushing it out of the way. Grabbing up the lantern, he entered the small cavern, his eyes searching the shadows. Almost immediately his eyes fell on
Valentina and Marquis, who were lying on the ground wrapped in each other's arms.

  "I found them!" he cried to the half-dozen men who had helped him with the digging. He handed the lantern to one of the men and bent down to touch Valentina. Her body was still warm, but he could not detect any breathing.

  "Carry her out of here quickly," Tyree told the man just behind him. Reaching across to Marquis, Tyree shuddered when he saw the blood-soaked rag on his leg. He felt Marquis's face and found it cold. Fearing Marquis might be dead, Tyree carefully lifted his limp body in his arms, taking every precaution to brace the injured leg. As he walked out into the sunshine, Tyree saw that Salamar was already bending over Valentina.

  Tyree laid Marquis down beside Valentina and began working over him. Leaning forward, he placed his head against Marquis's chest, listening. Tense moments passed as he waited to hear a heartbeat. Faintly at first, then louder and stronger, he heard the sounds that brought joy to his heart. Marquis's heartbeat was steady, and a groan escaped his lips. Tyree told several of the men to carry Marquis into the cabin and make him comfortable.

  As they lifted Marquis in their arms, Tyree quickly moved his eyes to Valentina. He watched in amazement as Salamar blew into Valentina's mouth while simultaneously pinching her nostrils together. "Is she all right?" he asked, moving to assist Salamar, fearing to hear the truth. To him, Valentina looked dead.

  Sad, all-knowing eyes fastened on Tyree's. "Right now the breath of life has left her body." Salamar's eyes suddenly sparkled with the fire of determination. "I will not accept this death. I will breathe the breath of life back into Valentina."

  Tyree felt tears in his eyes as he picked up Valentina's limp hand, lifted it to his lips, and placed a kiss on the palm. "I have never heard of anyone breathing life into a dead person, Salamar. It is medically impossible." He felt the hopelessness and heartache of acceptance. "I'm afraid we will both have to accept the fact that Valentina is . . . gone."

  Salamar roughly shoved him aside. "You do not know everything, Tyree Garth," she declared. "You can accept what your eyes see, if you want. I have no time to waste on doubters. I will bring Valentina back to life!" Bending forward, Salamar again demonstrated her skills. With short puffs, she blew air into Valentina's mouth.

  Tyree was tense, waiting for some sign of life, hoping Salamar knew some magic cure to save Valentina. Sitting down cross-legged, he lifted Valentina's head onto his lap and gently brushed the sand from her face. Salamar gave him a mystifying glance and again blew the breath of life into Valentina's lungs.

  Distraught, Tyree raised his head to the heavens, speaking the first prayer he had uttered in years. Unashamed of the tears that fell down his face, he whispered softly, "God, I haven't talked to you in a long time. I don't even know if I remember how. If you have the time—if you are listening—just let me ask you for one thing and I'll never trouble you again." The tears glistened on Tyree's face. "Please, God, let Valentina live . . . please give her back. I don't know if you are a betting man, but I would wager, if you give her life back ... I'd build you the grandest church, on the highest hillside, overlooking the bay in San Francisco. You have my word on it. If you know anything about me, God, you know my word's good."

  Tyree wiped his eyes and glanced down at Valentina. She was not breathing. Desperately he raised his face to the sun and closed his eyes.

  "All right, God, you seem to demand more of me. I guess you're right. Valentina's life is worth more than one church. You drive a hard bargain, God, but I'll make a deal with you. If you let Valentina live and also throw in Marquis's life as well, I'll not only build you that church . . . I'll attend that church every Sunday—come hell or high water—for the rest of my life."

  Bowing his head, Tyree clutched Valentina's still-limp hand. Glancing at Salamar, he saw tears in the woman's eyes. Again and again she breathed into Valentina's mouth. Precious moments were slipping away. There was no sign of life on Valentina's pale face.

  Tyree clutched Valentina's cold hand in his, watching for any movement, any sign that she was breathing. Suddenly the small hand moved ever so slightly—so slightly that Tyree was sure he had only imagined it. Staring at the dainty fingers that rested in his hand, he watched with joy in his heart as they twitched. Catching Salamar's eyes, he saw the joy on her face.

  "She lives," Salamar stated matter-of-factly. "Valentina breathes."

  "Dear God," Tyree cried, clutching Valentina in his arms. "Thank you, God—thank you!" As an afterthought, he asked, "What about the child?"

  "The child is unharmed," Salamar replied in her all-knowing way. "Valentina was not unconscious long enough to harm the child."

  Valentina felt as if she were floating in oblivion. There was no light and no feeling. She was contented and strangely detached from everything. Suddenly bright lights and loud noises exploded in her head. A strong rush of air filled her lungs; the force of it jarred her eyes open. Wonderful, cool, refreshing air filled her starving lungs, creeping into her chest cavity. She took a deep, cleansing breath and then another.

  Against the sunlight, Valentina saw the outline of several people, but they were faceless—vague shadows. Turning her head away from the bright light, she closed her eyes. She did not know if she was alive or dead. She only knew she was at peace. Sleep claimed her in its gentle arms—restful sleep, the sleep of healing.

  Tyree had sent a man for the doctor at a nearby mining camp. When he had examined both Valentina and Marquis, he talked to Salamar and Tyree. He was sure that Valentina would recover completely, but he was concerned about Marquis's legs. Both had been badly crushed and the gash on the right one was infected. He refused to comment on whether or not he thought Marquis would ever walk again.

  When evening fell, most of the men had gone back to San Francisco. Three remained behind to stand guard outside the cabin. Marquis and Valentina had been made comfortable on their bedrolls, while Tyree and Salamar sat before the fire, talking in low voices.

  "You are truly an amazing woman, Salamar. When you first came to me with the crazy tale that you had seen Marquis and Valentina in a cave-in, I thought you had to be out of your mind."

  Salamar smiled brightly. "Yet you humored me. You gathered the men together and lost no time in getting here to the mine."

  He flashed her a crooked smile. "You can be very persuasive. I can still see you telling me that if I didn't come up here with you, I would live in hell for the rest of my life. You convinced me that I would be saving Valentina and Marquis from death. How could I not come?”

  Again Salamar smiled. "I have found that when all else fails, the best way to get my point across is by using dramatics."

  He chuckled. "You did get your point across. I still don't know how you knew about the cave-in."

  "There are some things that do not need explaining," she said, bending forward and placing more wood on the fire. "Some things one must take on faith."

  Tyree watched Salamar's face closely. "I would like to know how you brought Valentina back to life. I know for a fact that she was dead."

  Salamar's dark eyes seemed to look inwardly as she spoke. "I was born into a harem—in a faraway place—in another lifetime. While growing up in the palace, I learned many strange and wondrous things from many parts of the world. The breathing of life was taught to me by my father's concubine from Siam."

  "Valentina was dead, wasn't she?" He was having a hard time dealing with the miracle he had witnessed. Tyree knew he would never be the same after today. His faith had been tested to the limit, his belief in God restored.

  "Yes, Valentina was dead. But who of us can say if it was I who returned life to Valentina's body by the ancient healing ... or you who brought her to life with your loving prayer to the one true God? I do not know the answer to this. Perhaps I was merely the instrument God used to answer your prayer."

  Tyree's eyes moved across the room to settle on the warm glow of health on Valentina's beautiful face. "You won't tell her what I did, will
you?"

  Salamar shook, her head. "I will not tell her that your love reached out to her from the grave, bringing her back to life. You are a good man, Tyree Garth, but you know she will never belong to you. I am somehow unhappy about this."

  He smiled sadly. "Have you seen into the future and know this for a fact?"

  "I have seen this."

  "I was only jesting, but I believe you really do have the sight." There was pain in his gentle eyes. "I will always love Valentina and want her happiness above all else."

  Salamar nodded. "Valentina belongs to the man whose baby she carries. Her life will not know peace for a time. She must suffer still more before she finds the real meaning of happiness."

  At that moment Valentina started mumbling and turned her head. Salamar quickly went to her and held her hand tightly. "My baby . . . please don't let my baby die," Valentina begged.

  Salamar placed her hand on Valentina's abdomen. "All is well with your baby, Valentina. Sleep and grow stronger."

  After that, Valentina seemed to settle into a peaceful sleep, so Salamar returned to the fire.

  "Did Valentina tell you about the baby, Salamar?" Tyree asked.

  "No, but she did not have to. I have known for a long time that she would not resist Marquis Vincente. She was destined to walk beside him in this new land."

  Tyree had learned that Salamar often talked in riddles that he could not fully understand. She was strange and mysterious, performing deeds that most men would find hard to believe or accept. Tyree liked her a great deal. Although he was curious about her strange powers, he decided not to question her further. Some things were better left unknown, or left to chance.

  "You have a church to build," Salamar reminded him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "When will you lay the cornerstone?"

  His laughter filled the room. "As quickly as possible. I can just see the clergy of San Francisco, not wanting to take tainted money to build a church."

  "Nothing you touch will ever be tainted, Tyree Garth. You have a heart of gold, and the woman who taps that heart will be rich indeed."