Orchids in Moonlight (32 page)

Another thing that worried him was fear of what Lavelle might do if he thought Jaime knew where her father's mine was located, maybe even had possession of the right map.

Cord was not going to rest easy, would not even think of riding on, rill he got to the bottom of the Chandler mystery.

* * *

At last it was the night of Lavelle's party, and some of the wealthiest and most prominent people in San Francisco and the surrounding areas were coming. Most, Cord knew, probably despised Lavelle, but they leaped at the chance to visit the famed cliff house.

Cord had positioned himself on the terrace where, from the shadows, he could observe everything.

Earlier in the day, workmen had installed a new crystal chandelier, and the expensive jewels of the women glittered and sparkled in its shimmering prisms.

An orchestra played while some of the guests danced. Others sipped champagne or gathered about tables laden with food.

Cord watched Lavelle as he mingled graciously, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with the men, complimenting the ladies. All the while, he kept an eye out for Jaime. The terrace was going to be a perfect place to attempt contact. He figured Blake would be unable to resist bringing her out to such a romantic spot. Light spilled from the ballroom onto baskets of flowers brought from Lavelle's greenhouse, The air was fragrant with the smell of the potted eucalyptus trees and honeysuckle vines trailing the mission walls. If they appeared, Cord hoped she would not give him away before he could signal to her to get rid of Blake so he could have a moment alone with her.

A ripple went through the crowd. Cord saw everyone looking toward the doors leading into the ballroom, and he moved closer to see what was going on.

It was Jaime.

In front of him, just inside the terrace doors and unaware of his presence, a woman clutched her throat in surprise, then turned to whisper frantically to her husband, "My God, for an instant I actually thought it was Emily come back to life. I've never seen anyone else with hair that color till now. And she's wearing her dress too. How could anyone forget it, with those solid gold teardrops sewn into the bodice? She wore it to our gala, remember?"

Cord wasn't looking at the expensive nugget decorations. He was thinking how the turquoise shades of the watered silk gown matched Jaime's eyes. Lost in her beauty, he felt a heated rush to remember all those wondrous nights together beneath the stars.

He gave his head a vicious shake, commanding himself to concentrate on the moment at hand and not the past.

Blake escorted her proudly to the center of the room. Stanton joined them to clap his hands for attention before loudly announcing, "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to present to you our guest, Miss Jaime Chandler, who's just arrived from Missouri. I'm sure you will all make her welcome."

Cord did not miss the way Blake hovered beside her, beaming. He didn't know much about Stanton's son. Some of the vaqueros called him
cobarde,
a coward, because he had once fainted at the sight of all the blood at the
calaveras
—the cattle slaughter pens. He preferred, it was said, to spend his time in the vineyards or vegetable gardens and stay away from the rougher side of ranch life.

And he was not the only one who noticed Blake's obvious infatuation with Jaime. The woman who had spoken earlier nudged her husband and remarked, "Well, now we know why Blake hasn't taken a wife. I always did say he was a momma's boy, and now he's found someone who looks just like her, I think we'll be receiving a wedding invitation soon."

Cord melted back into the darkness.

The evening wore on. From time to time, guests wandered out to the terrace but did not notice Cord where he stood, concealed. He was starting to think Blake and Jaime would not appear, when suddenly they did.

He listened while Blake gushed to Jaime over the way everyone was astonished by her resemblance to his mother. "They say I shouldn't let you get away, because you're so lovely, and I certainly don't intend to."

Cord could not help smiling to see how she quickly turned her head so Blake's kiss would fall on her cheek and not her lips.

With a sigh over her rebuke, Blake moved to stand at the wall and gaze out toward the sea. "I said I'd give you time, and I will, but it's hard when I love you more each day."

In the light spilling from the ballroom, Cord could observe her face. She did not look at all pleased.

With a deep groan of misery, Blake whirled to try and take her in his arms again, but she held him off. "Please, don't. You promised you wouldn't."

"I know, I know. It's just so hard. I'm sorry."

He walked away from her then, going to the other side of the overhang, and that's when Cord knew he had to make his move. He stepped from the darkness and into the light, holding his breath for fear Jaime would scream at the sight of him.

Her eyes widened. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp. Frantically, he shook his head from side to side, pressing a finger to his lips to signal for silence. Then he nodded toward the door, lifted his hand as though sipping from a glass, indicating she should get rid of Blake by sending him to get a drink.

She understood and called to Blake as Cord retreated.

"It's so nice out here. I'd like to stay awhile, but I'm thirsty. Would you get me some champagne, please?"

"Of course, darling. I'll be right back." He hurried to oblige.

As though wondering if her eyes had deceived her, Jaime approached the screen of eucalyptus cautiously, fearfully.

"It is you," she breathed in wonder.

"Hello, Sunshine."

She wondered if he could hear the wild pounding of her heart and put her hands behind her back so he wouldn't see how they were shaking. "What are you doing here?" she whispered thinly.

He knew there was no time for anything except getting right to the point. "Stanton Lavelle is the man who hired me to bring back the women. I work for him now as his bodyguard."

She gasped.

He rushed on. "I had no idea he was the man you were planning to see in San Francisco. If I had, I wouldn't have left you like I did."

Jaime fell back a step at the anguished memory of that morning when she had felt so degraded. "Why did you? Did you really think me no better than a whore?"

It was Cord's turn to be astonished. "What gave you that idea?"

"The money you left in my Bible. Remember our deal?" She laughed shortly, bitterly. "I was to be either your wife or your whore. Well, I'm certainly not your wife, but you kept your end of the bargain by paying your whore, didn't you?"

"That's nonsense. That was money the pioneers collected to pay me, and I wanted you to have it. I figured you were broke."

"I was. I am." She confirmed bitterly. "I was robbed in San Francisco. That's why I'm now beholden to the Lavelles."

He frowned. "There's a reason for Lavelle's benevolence. I've heard your father gave him a bogus map to a gold mine and Lavelle wants the real one desperately. He probably thinks you can lead him to the mine. You can't trust him."

"If not for him, I'd have no place to stay."

"You will," be vowed. "I'm going to try and-help you locate your father, and if I can't I'll see you're taken care of."

"Oh, I'll be taken care of." She lifted her chin a bit, starting to recover from the shock of seeing him. "According to Mr. Lavelle, my father's mine is full of gold. And all I have to do is give him the right map and let him mine it, and he promises to share it with me. But I'm not that naive. Not anymore," she added dryly.

"Then you have the real map?"

"That's none of your concern. You wouldn't help me when I asked, and now you want in on the gold. But I don't need you anymore, so leave me alone."

She had started to turn away, but he reached to grab her and yank her back. "You've got to listen. If Lavelle believes you've got that map, he'll stop at nothing to get it. And how do you know Blake isn't after it too?"

"He's not like his father. He can't stand him. Besides, he doesn't even want to talk about it."

"Well, do you have it?" he repealed impatiently.

"I'm not going to tell you."

"Damn it, Jaime, don't be so stubborn. What if your father is dead? What are you going to do then? You're at Lavelle's mercy unless you let me help you."

"I know what I'm doing, and believe me, I don't intend for Stanton Lavelle to get his hands on that mine. My father wrote me all about how he didn't trust him. That's why he gave him the bogus map in the first place. But if the investment had proved legitimate, he would have honored his pledge and paid his debt somehow."

"I think it's dangerous for you to keep staying here," Cord said tightly.

"I have nowhere else to go."

"Well, at least give me the map for safekeeping."

"No."

He had seen that look in her eyes before, the first night they met, when he'd told her he wouldn't take her to California. He knew her mind was made up now, as it was then.

"And why should I trust you anyway?" she challenged frostily.

He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as he framed his answer carefully. "I can understand how you feel after things happened as they did, but believe me when I say it had to be that way."

She hated to ask but had to know. "Is there someone else?"

He laughed softly, tenderly. "No. You're special to me, Sunshine, and while I'm no good for you, you've got to let me help you out of this mess."

"I'm not sure." She wished her knees would stop knocking together.

"Blake is going to be back any time now. Make up your mind."

She bit down on her lower lip, desperate to believe him. Despite all the time she had spent with Blake since arriving, she did not feel he cared whether she was ever reunited with her father. Yet in only a few moments of being with Cord, her world suddenly seemed so much brighter.

"All right," she whispered finally. "Where do you want to start?"

"First, we need to talk. I've got to find out from you as much as I can about your father. I'd like to read his letters if you have them."

Sarcastically, she asked, "Didn't you see them when you left my pay in the Bible?"

He flinched at the barb.

She went on to say she would allow him to read them but added, "I won't give you the map. And when I can, I'll see that you're rewarded for your help."

He thought if he didn't get away from her then and there he was going to throw caution to the wind and kiss her till they were both out of breath, because being so close to her was getting to him, damn it.

"I'm not interested in a reward. I just feel responsible for your being in this mess."

They stood for long moments in tense silence.

Neither heard, or noticed, when Morena stepped out on the little balcony above. Seeing them, she stepped closer, straining to hear, her face twisted with rage.

"Go," Cord said finally. "But slip back out here when you get a chance. Wait till no one is around and then come over here. I'll be waiting."

He gave her a little push away from him, but it was too late.

Blake had spotted them.

"What's going on here?" He rushed forward, handing Jaime her glass of champagne to free his hand so he could pull her back into the light. He looked at Cord suspiciously and could tell by the way he was dressed he was not one of the guests. "Who are you?" Then it came to him "I know. You're that hired gun of my father's, aren't you? What are you doing here, annoying Miss Chandler?"

"He... he's just doing his job," Jaime said uneasily.

"I saw him, and I was scared, and he was apologizing for frightening me, that's all."

Blake began leading her back toward the ballroom. "I'm going to speak to my father about this. I don't like his kind hanging around."

Cord settled back to wait for her to return whenever she could.

And while he waited, he would try his damnedest to stop thinking how good it would have been to have held her, kissed her....

* * *

Morena knew every inch of the mission. By the time she was old enough to learn of the Franciscans and how they had tried to convert her people to Christianity and the ensuing problems, the war between America and Mexico was over. The mission, like so many others built by the Spaniards, was abandoned, and she and the other Indian children had played there.

When she grew older, she had used the old chambers as a place to take men who were willing to pay for her voluptuous body. The money helped keep her family from starving, for her mother had many children but no husband. The Yahi men would not have her after she had slept with a white. Morena would close her eyes and pretend it was not a stranger violating her body but her husband making tender love. She would envision herself as queen of the mission, and never was it falling to ruins but always a palace in her mind.

She had watched from a distance when Stanton Lavelle came with all his money and power to buy the ruin, rename it Pointe Grande, and turn it into a most magnificent estate. One day, she dared sneak inside for a firsthand look, and that was when he saw her and, at once, knew he had to have her.