Captive Heart (21 page)

Now her eyes flashed fire. "I keep my part of an agreement—better than you do!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I seem to recall that you had agreed that our marriage was to be strictly a matter of business, in name only. You broke your word about that on our wedding night."

He flushed darkly. Then he said, "Why were you going home? You are that miserable here?"

"Miserable? Yes."

"You are not treated well? I left orders that you were to have anything you wanted. Miguel would have taken you anywhere in the city. You have money to spend—I set no limits—"

"You don't understand. I was lonely and homesick. I needed to be with my family for a while, near people who love me and care about me. There are some things money can't provide, Jorge Del Toro, although you seem oblivious to that fact!"

"Why didn't you talk with me about this? Why just leave a note and walk out?"

"You were never here. I made the decision this morning. You had other interests to keep you occupied."

Her implication in the phrase "other interests" was lost on him for the moment. He said defensively, "I have explained that to you. These are troubled times for me. The political situation has been in turmoil. I am busy arranging affairs so we can leave this country. The sooner we can get to the States, the sooner you can see your parents. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Partly."

"Partly?"

"Yes. The main part is that I'll be glad when this marriage is over."

His green eyes glinted darkly. "Is it really so terrible being married to me?"

Terrible? No, she thought, under the right circumstances, it would be heaven. But under these circumstances, it was hell. "Yes," she said, "it is terrible when you deliberately humiliate me."

"How have I done that?"

"By consorting with Consuelo when you are married to me. Latin women may accept such behavior in their husbands. I find it degrading and humiliating. Our marriage may be nothing but a business arrangement, but I assumed you would show me the respect due a proper wife. You said this marriage was to appear authentic. Couldn't you and she wait the year until our divorce?"

"What makes you think I have been 'consorting' with Consuelo as you put it?"

"Her brother, Rafael, told me. You have been with her several times."

He scowled darkly. "Then you have been with Rafael again!"

Her eyes flashed defiance. "He came here to the house to see me. It was in broad daylight and quite respectable—hardly the clandestine manner in which you and Consuelo have met." Then she blurted out, "Has she become your mistress?" and immediately regretted the question. Her heart had asked before her mind could halt the words.

He scowled more darkly than before, giving her a penetrating look. "Would it really matter to you?"

Inwardly, she thought,
Yes, it matters very much that you care for another woman, and that is why my heart is breaking
. But her stung pride made her eyes glint cold anger, and she said to him, "Sorry to throw a wet blanket on your swollen macho ego, but I couldn't care less, except how it humiliates me, as I said."

Although they were in the same room, they were looking at each other across a mile-wide gulf that separated them.

Finally Del Toro sighed, "We cannot talk without using angry words. We live under the same roof and have shared the same bed. Yet, we are total strangers." Then he said, "Well, whether you like it or not, you are stuck with me here for a little while longer. All transportation in and out of the country has been suspended. It would not be safe for you to venture into the city until the political situation has stabilized."

He stalked out of the room, leaving her to shed more tears of lonely despair. He had not denied that Consuelo was now his mistress. Perhaps she had been all along, with an understanding that she would one day be his wife. That would explain her possessiveness and self-assurance with him. And her determination that JoNell was not going to come between them.

JoNell phoned her mother with the disappointing news that her trip home had been delayed. Then there was nothing to do but wait until the situation changed. She fell into a depression as the days passed, and the airport remained closed. She saw even less of Del Toro than before. He seemed to be making a point of staying away as much as possible, and avoiding her when he was in the house. They had one evening meal together in the dining room, and it was a strained, silent hour.

One night, JoNell was awakened by the fearful trembling that she had come to dread—an earthquake tremor. She stared up at the darkness, her heart pounding furiously. The quivering of her bed stopped and gradually the beat of her heart became normal. Suddenly, her bedroom door opened. Del Toro, in his robe, was silhouetted against the light of the hall. She lay very still, pretending to be asleep, but peering at him through her lashes. He stood in the doorway, looking at her for several minutes, as if to convince himself that the tremor had not awakened or frightened her. At last, he drew back into the hallway, closing her door quietly.

She was no longer frightened, but it was hours before she finally went back to sleep. When she awoke in the morning, she switched on her bedside radio. Listening to the early morning news had become a ritual as she eagerly awaited word of the airport opening. First the announcer talked about seismograph recordings of an earthquake in the mountains, which explained the tremor she had felt last night. Then came news that made her heart bound. The political situation had stabilized. The military was reopening all forms of transportation in and out of the country.

JoNell bounded out of bed. She dressed hurriedly, making plans as she prepared for the trip home. This time she would wait until she had booked a definite flight before phoning her parents. She would call the airport to see about a reservation. Probably the early flights would be crowded. She picked up the telephone.

At that moment, Del Toro burst into the room. She was startled both by his unannounced entrance, and his appearance. He looked haggard, unshaven. His hair was rumpled. Never had she seen him look so disheveled and so distraught.

"You must come with me," he ordered swiftly.

"Where? What are you talking about?"

"There was an earthquake in the mountains last night—"

A sudden icy hand squeezed her heart. "Not the mining village—"

He nodded soberly. "Yes. It looks bad. The seismograph instruments at the university pinpointed the site of the earthquake in that area. I've been trying to contact them, but the telephone lines are down. I finally made contact with one of my mining engineers there who is a ham radio operator. The village has been devastated. A lot of people have been hurt."

"Oh, how awful—" Tears burned JoNell's eyes as memories flashed across her mind of the people who had shown her such friendliness.

Del Toro ran trembling fingers through his dark hair. "JoNell, I need you to fly me there. The bridge into the village was destroyed. We can only get there by air. With the political mess the country is in, there'll be all kinds of red tape and delay before the government does anything. We can't wait for that. I need to get a doctor and medical supplies up there immediately."

He grasped her arm urgently. "I need you, JoNell. If you will do this for me, I will give you what you want more than anything else—your freedom. Gustamente has fled the country; he is no longer a threat to me. You are obviously terribly unhappy married to me. You want to go home. I won't stand in your way or hold you to our bargain any longer. Just help me get aid to those people, and we'll put an end to this marriage."

JoNell nodded. "Yes, of course I'll help…"

They descended the stairs rapidly. "Miguel will drive you to the airport," Del Toro explained. "That will give you time to get the plane ready. I will join you shortly with a doctor and medical supplies."

The car roared off. JoNell had been so overwhelmed by the unexpected and dramatic events of the last few minutes that she hadn't had time to fully digest the implications. Now she realized how intimately involved Miguel was in what happened at the village. And she suddenly thought of Angelita, that kind, generous woman, who might be lying injured or dead in the rubble of the destroyed village.

Miguel drove in tense silence in marked contrast to his usual humorous chatter. "Are you going to fly to the village with us, Miguel?" JoNell asked gently.

"Not this trip, seňora," he replied, the customary joy wrung from his voice. "Seňor Del Toro wants to use every bit of space for the doctor and supplies. I will gather more food, bandages, water, that sort of thing. It will take more than one trip to send everything that is needed. Perhaps I can go on the last trip."

"Of course you can. Meanwhile, I'll check on Angelita for you."

"Thank you, seňora. I will say prayers and stop by the cathedral and light a candle…"

Miguel deposited her at the airport and sped off. JoNell entered the airport office where she had first met Jorge Del Toro. Memories of their first encounter replayed in her mind. Sadly, she looked around the room, knowing this was to be one of the last times she would ever see the couch where she had sat that fateful day when she had brazenly dared Del Toro to ride with her in the airplane. As badly as she wanted out of the unhappy marriage, she knew that when she left Peru, she would be leaving the only man in the world she would ever truly love. Whenever she looked at another man, the magnificent figure and spirit of Jorge Del Toro would get in the way.

Brushing tears from her eyes, she checked the level of gasoline in the airplane, then drained a small amount through a pet cock to check for moisture condensation in the tanks. After that she rolled the plane out the hangar door. Then she paced back and forth, waiting impatiently. After what seemed like an hour, but was probably no more than thirty minutes, the black Rolls Royce drove up and screeched to a halt. Del Toro jumped out, and with him, a tall, dark man dressed in a black suit. They began carrying boxes from the trunk of the car to the plane. JoNell climbed into the plane and flipped the lever on the rear seat to fold it down in order to make room for the supplies to pass over into the luggage compartment.

That done, JoNell silently joined the two men, carrying some of the lighter boxes herself. Within minutes, they had filled the luggage compartment.

"Can you take off with that much extra weight?" Del Toro asked.

She nodded, hoping that her estimate of the weight of the load was accurate.

They got into the airplane, Del Toro and JoNell in the front, the doctor in the back seat. After they were airborne, Del Toro briefly introduced JoNell to Dr. Torres. Del Toro and the doctor spent the time in the air discussing what additional supplies would be needed and where they could be obtained. They made a list for JoNell to give to Miguel.

JoNell's mind was occupied with worry about landing the plane on the short stretch of meadow that served as a primitive landing strip. The plane was carrying the extra load of medical supplies without complaint, but the added weight would make her landing more hazardous. She was going to have to call on all her reserves of skill to stop the greater momentum of the plane that she knew it would have this time.