Fires of Paradise (23 page)

Lucy got to her feet. The pleasure she had found in the evening was shattered by reality. She made her way back to the house and slipped quietly inside.

And came face-to-face with Carmen.

Carmen stood in the living room in a yellow dress with a gold shawl over her shoulders and a red scarf tied around her curly black hair. The two women stared at each other. "Where have you been?" Carmen demanded.

"I was sitting by the river—if that's all right with you," Lucy retorted.

"Alone?"

"Alone? Of course alone? Who would I be with—the coyotes?'' "Maybe you were with Pedro." Lucy actually recoiled. "Pedro!"

Carmen seemed satisfied and stalked past her and out of the house.

Lucy turned to watch her, wondering where she was going, but the night swallowed her up. How strange, she mused, then decided that the other woman, like herself, was seeking some coolness in the evening. She wouldn't find it.

She paused when she passed Roberto's door, noticing that it was ajar, and that a light came from within. Wasn't it late for a little boy to be up? Gently she pushed the door open. "Roberto?"

He was lying in bed but not sleeping. He looked so sad and forlorn that it tore at Lucy. "Are you all right?"

He sat up. His eyes were very big and black. "Si, senorita."

"Can't you sleep?"

He shook his head, his sober gaze glued to her.

"Why not? It's not still too hot for you, is it?"

Again he shook his head. "I don't like being alone at night," he finally blurted out. "Papa is gone, I saw your door open, that you were gone, and Mama went out..."

Lucy felt a real urge to strangle Carmen. Surely that woman knew her son was afraid of being left alone at night! "Well," she said cheerfully, "I'm here now, and I'm going to bed. I'll be right next door."

His smile was small, but glad. "Si, senorita."

She moved forward to turn out the lamp.

"No! Papa lets me keep it on!"

Lucy hesitated, then smiled. "I didn't know." She looked at him, wanting to offer him something, some comfort, because he seemed so lost and lonely. Lucy touched his head, her fingers lingering there among the silky softness for a moment. "Do you want me to bring you some warm milk? It will help you sleep."

This smile was shy. "Si, senorita."

Lucy returned his smile with one of her own and went to heat some milk. When she brought it to him, she sat at his side while he sipped it, telling him that she had five younger brothers, the youngest almost his age.

"Really?"

"Really."

"I wish I had a brother—or a sister."

Lucy tensed but smiled anyway. "I'm sure you will. Now-—" she took the empty glass from him "—go to sleep. I'm right next door. If you need me, come and get me. It's all right. I don't mind being woken up."

"You don't?"

"Not at all."

'' Mama would smack me if I ever walked into her room,'' he declared.' 'She told me I must never, ever go in at night.''

Lucy was appalled. She understood, though—Carmen didn't want her lovemaking interrupted, that witch! "I am not like your mother," she said calmly. "Call me if you need me." At the door, she paused. "Good night, Roberto."

"Buenas noches, senorita."

Chapter 29

"Linda, how do you make cookies?"

Linda looked at her quizzically. It was the morning of another hot, humid day, the sun blazing in its intensity outside. "Cookies, senorita?"

"Yes, for Roberto."

Linda beamed. "I will show you, senorita. It is easy."

Lucy smiled back. "But I don't think we should let Carmen know." She glanced over her shoulder, but the woman was not eavesdropping from the doorway. "I have a feeling she would not like my baking cookies for her son."

"It will be our secret," Linda said.

Carmen was still sleeping, so the two women whipped up a batch of sugar-coated cookies, using expensive white flour. She was sleeping uncharacteristically late, for she had been up every morning before Lucy in order to wake her up pounding rudely on the door. Lucy had not slept soundly last night. She had thought about the lonely little boy for a long time—and his hard, self-contained father. In the endless hours of the night, when thoughts, like magical dragons, metamorphosed and grew and took on unreal proportions, she had been struck by a terrible insight. Any man who showed such affection to a small, quiet boy was not a complete and hopeless bastard. There was a deep, hidden well of sensitivity, compassion, and even love within Shoz. It was the most awful, frightening thought she had ever had.

Just because he loves Roberto doesn't mean he will ever love you, had been one of her last lucid thoughts before drifting off. Besides, he loves Carmen, doesn't he?

Lucy had woken up after midnight when Carmen came in none too quietly, her heels clicking, cursing when she knocked into a table. She had wondered briefly at the hour and then turned over to toss restlessly again. The night passed in a strange collage of dreams with one key player— Shoz.

After lunch had been served and the table cleared and Lucy was free for a siesta, she baked the cookies, with growing anticipation. She put them in a small basket and went looking for Roberto. She found him fishing at the river, quite some distance from the house. The pole he held was made of shiny blue aluminum, most definitely store-bought. His eyes brightened when he saw her.

"What a beautiful pole," Lucy said gaily. "Wherever did you get that?"

"Papa bought it for me in Texas," Roberto said proudly. "Last year—for my birthday."

This disturbed her. She was reminded of all her mental rampaging last night—of her crazy conclusion that Shoz was not such a tough bastard. She smoothed out her skirts and sat down. "Want to share some cookies?"

"Cookies!" It was the magic word.

As Roberto scrambled over, all shyness forgotten, Lucy smiled. She didn't mind missing her siesta at all. It was worth it, just to see such pleasure on his solemn young face.

The days crept slowly by, much like the flat, sluggish river. Lucy discovered calluses on the pads of her fingers. A few days later she noticed that her ivory skin was the palest, softest gold. There were riotous blond highlights in her hair. She eyed herself critically, and decided she looked quite exotic. As exotic as Carmen?

Would Shoz like the changes in her appearance?

She shoved such inane, inappropriate considerations away. She still spent most of her time in the kitchen with Linda. Many days now she had forgone her allotted siesta to sit by the river—or swim. She only dared the latter in her clothes, which dried quickly enough, and when she was certain her two guards were otherwise involved. They spent most of their time playing cards and drinking aguardiente, with a seemingly limitless tolerance.

One afternoon Lucy made a shocking discovery, one that drastically affected her relationship with Carmen. Not tired enough to nap, she strolled along the river and stumbled upon Carmen and Pedro, as naked as newborn babies. There was nothing innocent about what they were doing, however, and Lucy beat a hasty retreat. They were too involved to notice her.

Did Shoz know? Her pulse was pounding. Did Shoz know his wife was an adulteress? Lucy was sure he did not. Something like excitement filled her, and she paused, leaning against the side of the house, her body taut and tense. Shoz was not the type of man to let his wife cuckold him. Absolutely not. He didn't know. What should she do?

Lucy knew it was wrong, un-Christian, to be glad that Carmen was such a snake. But she was glad. Of course, she could never snitch, no matter how much she despised her, no matter how much the woman pushed her. Still, one day Shoz would find out. She imagined his fury. It would be terrifying.

Because Carmen and Pedro were occupied, Lucy decided to take a swim. She had just entered the water when she heard a noise on the bank. She whirled, ducking underneath. Even though she wore a blouse and her petticoat, she knew they revealed much more than was allowable. She was surprised to see Roberto, hesitating by a tree.

She smiled. "Hullo." She had made several attempts to become his friend, but the little boy was shy, and although he'd eaten the cookies with her several days ago, he'd merely mumbled a "yes" or "no" to her queries and run off. Now he sort of smiled. There was loneliness in that smile, and it pierced her. She thought he looked wistful, and an idea struck her. "Do you want to swim with me, Roberto?"

His face brightened as if hundreds of electric lights had gone off, and he beamed, coming forward. "Si, senorita!"

"Do you know how to swim?" Lucy asked.

"Si." He nodded vigorously. "Papa taught me. We swim together all the time."

"Take off all your clothes except for your underwear," she instructed him. He complied readily and was soon wading in to paddle around her. Lucy smiled and splashed him. He laughed and ducked under the water, coming up like a porpoise blowing air.

They paddled around and played like two children. Lucy was pleased to see that Roberto was truly enjoying himself. She thought that they should do this more often, and decided to find some other activities that they could share. That was when Carmen screamed at them from the bank.

Lucy dropped to her neck in the water instinctively, but Carmen was alone. "What are you doing?" she shouted. "Get out, Roberto, get out this instant!"

Roberto scrambled to obey, all the joy going out of his expression, which became solemn and closed. "Put on your clothes," Carmen cried, pointing at his shirt, jeans, and moccasins. "You left them in the dirt!" She turned her wrath on Lucy as Roberto struggled into his clothes. "You! How dare you!"

Lucy stood up, the water cascading off her. The other woman stared at her body, growing angrier, her eyes narrowing. 

"How dare I what?" Lucy asked calmly. "Take a swim? Invite Roberto to join me?"

"Shut up! He's my son—not yours! I didn't give him permission to swim, do you understand?"

Lucy had never hated anyone as she hated Carmen. She walked out of the water and paused to face her. "I understand. I understand that you do not deserve the appellation of mother."

Carmen blinked, clearly not comprehending exactly what Lucy had meant.' 'What did you say? Speak plain English!"

"You do not deserve to have such a sweet little boy," Lucy flared.

Carmen glowered and stomped her foot, then, in a huff, she grabbed Roberto's hand and ran to the house, dragging her son with her. Lucy watched them go. Inwardly she hurt for Roberto. But what could she do? Roberto was Carmen's son.

She had just towel-dried her wet clothes and hair and put on her skirt when Carmen reappeared—with a bundle of bright clothing in her arms. She threw the bundle at Lucy, and it fell to the dirt. "You want to swim?" She sneered. "Fine! You can swim while you do this!"

Lucy looked at what was obviously Carmen's gaily colored clothes. "What is this?"

"Laundry!"

"You expect me to do your laundry?"

"Do it,
puta
."

Lucy stared at the other woman. She was fed up, as fed up as she had ever been in her life. "No," she decided, "I won't do it."

"What!"

"I'm not going to do your laundry, Carmen," Lucy said furiously. "You have washerwomen here who do laundry. I am not a laundress!"

Carmen was shocked at her refusal, but only for an instant. Her hand swung out, but Lucy was ready, and she ducked, backing away.

"I'll give you to the men!" Carmen shouted.

Lucy's heart stopped, then it sped on. "No, you won't," she cried, much more bravely than she felt. "Because if you do, I will tell Shoz about you and Pedro!"

Carmen blanched.

Lucy knew she had just achieved a small victory, her first. Her elation was tempered by anxiety, however, and she backed away waiting for Carmen's reaction. Carmen was so angry, it was fearful to behold; she was apparently incapacitated with her rage. Lucy seized the moment and hurried back to the house, expecting Carmen to chase after her at any moment. She didn't. Once inside, Lucy leaned against the cool stone wall. Her heart was thundering. Would her threat work? Or would Carmen retaliate?

Yet dinnertime arrived, and nothing had happened. Rob¬erto appeared for his meal precisely at seven, anxiety in his gaze. Lucy reassured him with a smile. Fifteen minutes passed, and Carmen was late. Lucy decided to serve Roberto anyway. She hoped Carmen was sulking, although she doubted it. Roberto began eating with gusto.

Carmen finally appeared, her mood black and foul. “Why does he eat without me?" she cried. Before anyone knew what she was doing, she had swept Roberto's plate off the table and onto the floor. "Go to your room!" she screamed at him.

But Roberto was already up and running away, into the sanctuary of his bedroom. The door slammed closed.

"How could you!" Lucy cried, never more shocked in her entire life.

Carmen advanced on her clenched fists. "If you say one word, I will kill you!"

Later, Lucy never knew how she stood her ground, but she did. She didn't move, she didn't retreat, she stood there as Carmen stalked forward, until they were nose to nose. Her heart was pounding in her ears.

Carmen spit out something incomprehensible and dropped onto the bench at the table. Lucy felt quite weak—and terribly relieved. Her threat had worked; she and Carmen had a standoff. Then she became aware of Linda cleaning up the mess on the floor. Abruptly she came to life.

She hurried into the kitchen to serve Carmen. As soon as she had done so, she prepared another plate for Roberto, and, tension rearing again, she headed for his room. Carmen only looked at her in disgust. "You spoil him."

Lucy breathed easier and knocked on his door. There was no reply, so she walked in. He sat on the bed, very solemn, hands clasped in his lap. When he saw her, he looked relieved. "I brought you your dinner," she said softly. "I'm not hungry," he said, searching her face. He was

such an intense little boy. Then he looked at the plate, and his stomach growled.

"Shall I keep you company while you eat? Tell you a story about my brothers?" Lucy asked, sitting beside him. His eyes went wide, and while he ate, she told him a story.

That night, Lucy could not sleep. She was too wound up from her various confrontations with Carmen. She was still amazed at her own daring, at her bravery, but now, being calmer, she was also feeling somewhat triumphant. It felt good to be able to hold her head up, it felt good to fight back. She realized, with a start, that never in her life had she really had to fight for anything!

She'd always had everything. Money, food, clothes, servants, gifts, beaux. Everything had been given to her upon her command on a silver platter. Even men! Every man she had ever wanted had fallen all over her, admired her, even loved her. Except, of course, Shoz.

Her heart tightened. He should be back any day now. It was impossible to deny how much she anticipated his return. Just as it was becoming impossible to deny other feelings as well. Other traitorous, dangerous feelings, Lucy thought sleepily. But she would deny them, she would as long as she could ...

The next morning, the incidents of the day before overwhelmingly fresh in her mind, Lucy baked another batch of cookies for Roberto. "He is a good boy, no?" Linda asked.

"He is a darling," Lucy said, then stopped stirring the batter. "Linda, how can Carmen treat her son that way? How? It's too awful!"

Linda shrugged. "She should not be a mother, that one. She is too selfish and vain."

Lucy had forgotten they were cousins. It was hard to believe, Linda being so steady and patient and placid— completely the opposite of Carmen. Or had she just learned to accept reality? Lucy stared out the window at the corral. Before she had come to Texas this summer, the reality she knew had been so different from the one she lived in now. Never had she dreamed that this kind of life existed. Now her former life seemed so very far away—and even unreal.

"Shoz should be back soon," she heard herself say. She looked at Linda. "Will he return as he promised? Is he sometimes late?"

"Sometimes," Linda said. "Sometimes there are problems." She watched her. "Nina, you are going to make more problems for yourself if you are not careful."

Lucy blushed. Was she so transparent? "He is my captor. I want my freedom. Only he can give me that." She was stunned at her own words, stunned because they were lies. She hadn't thought about her freedom in days; she had only thought about his return.

After lunch, which Carmen did not appear for—and Lucy had a good idea where she was, and with whom—Lucy presented Roberto with the tin of warm cookies. He was thrilled, and he ran off with his treasure clutched in his hands. Lucy decided to take a siesta, not wanting to go anywhere near the river today.

Linda had left the house to go to her own cottage, and Lucy had last seen Roberto taking the cookies and racing outside. She was alone in the house, and the privacy was vastly pleasing. It was so hot and sticky, worse than ever, and she could not sleep, not even naked on top of the sheets. She pulled her damp clothes back on, wondering how any¬one could live in such a miserable climate. Death Valley should be more appropriately named Hell Valley, she thought sourly.

She had nothing to do. She had never been much of a reader, so the books she had glimpsed in Shoz's room did not interest her overmuch. She would love a swim, but wanted to avoid that witch and her lover. Frustration soared with the temperature. It was so damn hot!