Ecstasy's Promise (Historical Romance) (6 page)

"But I do."

"Yes, I can see that you do," he said gently. He
pulled up a chair and sat down. "Maybe I should tell
you how things are. I had no idea you were worried
about money."

"It is strange. I do not even remember a time when I gave any thought to finances," Victoria told him.

"There is no reason you should have in the past," Bodine said, "but now, in view of all that has happened, you should know." She waited anxiously for him to tell her, fearing the worst. "The last time your father was home on leave from his unit, he decided it would be safer if we hid the gold bullion in the swamps. He and I sneaked out of the house and buried it one night while everyone else was asleep. He was afraid something would happen to him and he wanted to be certain your future would be assured."

"How like Father to think of me," Victoria said softly.

Bodine nodded in agreement. "He did not put all his gold into Confederate currency for just that reason. He was willing to give his own life for what he believed in, but he would not gamble on your future."

"Is it a great deal of money?"

"No," Bodine told her, "but it will enable you to rebuild Farraday Plantation one day."

"Oh, Bodine, that is good news." Her eyes sparkled with new life. Then she remembered that she could not return to Georgia and probably never would be able to.

Bodine knew what she was thinking and patted her hand. "Do not lose heart," he told her. "Someday you will be able to return home."

She looked into his eyes and knew he did not believe that any more than she did.  "Anyway,"
Bodine continued, "I want to tell you where we hid the bullion in case anything happens to me." Victoria looked at him fearfully. He raised his hand to silence her. "Let me finish. Do you remember the big willow tree you climbed when you were about ten and you could not get down?"

"Yes," she said. "I remember it as though it were yesterday. I had run into the swamps after Bess had scolded me. I do not even remember now what she punished me for, but I was so upset, I thought it would make her feel bad if she were to think I was lost in the swamp. I climbed up high into the branches and found that I could not get down."

"Yes, and when you did not return Bess alerted the whole plantation to search for you," Bodine said.

"I remember crying as it started getting dark, and how frightened I was. Then I saw all the torches and everyone was calling my name."

Bodine smiled at her. "I had to climb up and bring you down."

"Every time in my life that I have been in trouble, you have been there, Bodine," Victoria said with feeling.

He rose to his feet and walked to the door. "The bullion is hidden at the base of the tree. Good night, Imp," he said and left her.

The next day Victoria was stricken with a fever so they had to spend two more weeks in Shreveport. It was while she was recuperating that Bodine told her the news of Gen. Lee's surrender to Gen. Ulysses S. Grant at a small Virginia town called Appomattox.

The war was over. The South had been defeated. Victoria cried so hard that Bodine feared she would have a relapse, but she continued to improve and was soon dressed in her britches and boots so that they might continue their journey.

The first of May they crossed the border into Texas. The first sight she had of Texas was a disappointment to Victoria. It was so dry and barren compared to Georgia. Victoria wished she could see the beauty of it as Bodine did. She missed the lush valleys of Georgia, and wondered if this land, which seemed so foreign, would ever be home to her.

She stood beside Bodine and looked about her at the vast land with the never-ending sky. What was ahead for her? Victoria tried to picture what her grandmother would look like, and failed. The only face that came to her was Paul's, and if he was alive, he was a long way from her now. Victoria knew that if Paul was able, he would come to her in Texas, but if he did, she could not return to Georgia with him.

As always when she was troubled, she turned her face to Bodine. And as always, he read her thoughts. "It will be all right," he said simply.

4

After days of riding and only occasionally seeing another human being, Victoria felt they would never reach their destination. They camped out every night now, but it was a kind of adventure. They cooked their food over an open campfire. Victoria slept as unafraid as a child, knowing that Bodine was nearby. What she did not know was that he slept with one eye open and his loaded gun close at hand.

That morning, as they were saddling their horses, Bodine told Victoria they would be at her grandmother's house before dark. They rode until noon without stopping. When they finally halted, Victoria was exhausted. She leaned against a big cottonwood tree and looked around her. Besides cottonwoods, there were cedar trees in profusion. They gave out a pungent odor that was not unpleasant. The blue sky stretched overhead like a giant umbrella. Wild flowers were growing in little clumps.

"What are those funny-looking trees, Bodine?" Victoria asked, pointing to a nearby thicket.

"They are mesquite trees," he told her. "You will find them all over Texas."

"Bodine, who does all this land belong to?" Victoria asked.

He was tightening the stirrup on his horse, and paused to look around. "You are on Hanover land right now. The Hanovers are a rule unto themselves. They have more land than some countries, and rule this part of Texas as though they were royalty. I knew Michael Hanover and his wife, Mariana. They had one son, Edward. I guess Edward is somewhere around thirty now."

"What can they want with all this land?" she asked.

"Cattle, for one thing."

"Surely they do not need all this land to raise a few cattle."

Bodine laughed. "Rio del Lobo has more than a few cattle, maybe around twenty thousand head."

"Rio del Lobo, that is the ranch you told me of when we spent the night in the Martins' barn. Is the name Spanish?"

Bodine nodded. "Named for the Wolf River that runs through it."

"Rio del Lobo. River of the Wolf. How much land does it actually consist of?"

"To break it down so you can understand it, one hundred and fifty miles in every direction, unless they have acquired more land in the last twenty years."

Victoria shook her head. "I still do not understand why they would want so much land."

"You are in Texas now, honey. You have to think big," Bodine told her. She could hear the excitement in his voice. He is glad to be home, she thought.

"Your grandmother's ranch is considered small for Texas," Bodine told her. "Yet it is about four times larger than Farraday Plantation."

"Tell me more about Texas," Victoria encouraged him, in no hurry to return to the saddle, and feeling a little uneasy at the thought of meeting her grandmother.

"I have been gone twenty years," he told her. "A lot can change in that amount of time."

"Are there any towns nearby?"

"Well, Cedarville is the nearest. Not much of a town, at least it wasn't when I left, but San Antonio is only a good day's ride."

"Tell me about San Antonio."

"You will hear all you want to and more about San Antonio. There is a little mission there, called the Alamo, where the Texans boast they turned defeat into victory against the Mexicans in 1836. Now that is enough talk, Victoria. If we linger here much longer, it will be dark when we get to your grandmother's."

Victoria rose to her feet and started folding the blanket she had been sitting on. She tied it on to Rebel's saddle—for the last time, she told herself. Bodine had insisted she put on her dress that morning. "I refuse to deliver you to your grandmother dressed as a boy," Bodine had told her.

Victoria mounted, and tried to settle herself comfortably. It was hard to ride in a dress. She wished for the sidesaddle she had left behind in Georgia.

Bodine was throwing his leg over the saddle to mount, when they heard an ominous rattle. He knew
in a flash that his horse had been struck by the rattlesnake. Bodine went flying through the air and landed with a thud on the ground. The horse thrashed about in agonizing pain.

Before Victoria had time to think, she had dismounted and run to Bodine. He was lying so still, she was afraid to move him in case he had any broken bones. She lifted his head into her lap and brushed a lock of gray hair from his forehead. "Oh, Bodine, please wake up. You cannot be dead." She cradled him in her arms. "Bodine, Bodine, wake up.

She laid him down gently and untied the blanket from Rebel's back, placing it under Bodine's head. She put her head to his chest and heard the strong steady heartbeat. Victoria wet her handkerchief with water from her canteen, and washed his face.

Bodine groaned and slowly opened his eyes, focusing them on her face. "What happened, Victoria?"

She smiled at him through her tears. "Lie still for a moment, Bodine. You have had a bad fall. Your horse was bitten by a rattler, I am afraid."

He tried to raise his head, but was overcome by dizziness. He laid his head back on the blanket. "My gun . . . You have to shoot my horse. He is in pain," Bodine said weakly.

Victoria shook her head in horror. "I cannot. Do not ask me to do it, Bodine. I cannot."

"You must, Victoria."

With shaking hands she unholstered his gun. She walked over to the horse who was lying still now. Victoria pointed the gun at his head, turned her
eyes, and fired. It was over in a split second. She threw down the gun and cried hysterically. It had been easier to shoot the Yankee, she thought.

When she could bring herself under control, Victoria returned to Bodine. He was so pale. She sat down beside him. He had lost consciousness again. "Oh, Bodine, wake up and tell me what to do," she cried. "I can stand anything but losing you."

He seemed to slip in and out of consciousness. Victoria had not noticed that the sky had grown overcast, until a blast of thunder roared and a streak of lightning blazed across the sky. Little drops of rain fell to earth only to be swallowed up by the dry, thirsty soil.

Victoria realized now that she had to take some action. She led Rebel over to where Bodine lay, and forced the horse down on his knees. The rain was falling harder now. The next time Bodine gained consciousness, Victoria helped him into Rebel's saddle. She laid his head forward on Rebel's neck, climbed up behind him, and urged the black stallion forward. She prayed she could hold Bodine's enormous frame in the saddle. Her strength and courage came from her love for the giant man who was as helpless as a baby now.

Rebel raced forward as though he were unaware of the extra weight. The rain was beating down on them. Flashes of lightning lit up the sky around them. On they rode for what seemed an eternity. Just when Victoria felt she could go no farther, she saw a light in the distance, and urged Rebel forward. Bolting out of the saddle, she raced toward the crude cabin and banged on the door with all her might.

Tears mingled with raindrops as she waited for an answer. The door opened and a man stood facing Victoria.

"Please, you have to help me," she cried.

"Perdoname, Senorita?"
The man looked at her in surprise.

"Please help me," Victoria sobbed. "Bodine is hurt. He is injured."

The man looked over her shoulder to where he saw Bodine slumped over the saddle.
"Si, Senorita,"
he said, as he followed her quickly to the unconscious Bodine. Taking command of the situation, he helped the big man from the saddle. Somehow, between the two of them, they managed to get Bodine into the house. A young woman, not much older than Victoria, helped them get Bodine into bed in a tiny bedroom off the kitchen.

"What happened?" the man asked Victoria in heavily accented English.

"A rattlesnake struck his horse and he was thrown. He has been in and out of consciousness."

"The snake did not strike him,
Senorita?"

"No, no, it is the fall he is suffering from."

"Senorita,
you are not to worry; I will ride for the doctor." He turned and spoke to the woman rapidly in Spanish, which Victoria did not understand.

The woman came over to Victoria and drew her out of the bedroom.
"Senorita,
my husband will put your father to bed. Then he will ride for the doctor."

Victoria let the woman lead her to the open fireplace, where she sat down on a wooden bench, grateful for the warmth of the fire and the gentle Mexican woman who seemed so kind and concerned.

Soon they were joined by the man. "I have made your father comfortable," he told Victoria. "I will now stable your horse and ride for the doctor. Please do not worry, my wife, Consuelo, will look after you.

Victoria smiled at him gratefully, too tired to even respond. The man took a yellow mackintosh from a nail on the wall and pulled it over his head. Then he opened the door and rushed out into the driving rain.

"I must go to Bodine," Victoria told the woman, Consuelo.

"First,
Senorita,
you must get out of your wet clothes. It will not help your father if you become ill."

Victoria saw the sense of what the woman said, and slipped out of her wet clothes and into the dry ones which Consuelo provided. Consuelo was much shorter than Victoria and much larger in the waist because she was expecting a child. The dress came up above Victoria's ankles and hung loosely about her waist. She was grateful for it, however, and thanked the Mexican woman.

"You will eat something, now," Consuelo told her.

"No, thank you, I must sit by Bodine."

"Your father will be all right while you eat."

"He is not my father," Victoria told her. "He is my dearest friend."

Consuelo looked at her, puzzled.

"I must go to him," Victoria told her. The Mexican woman did not try to dissuade her, but, instead, opened the door so she could enter the room
where Bodine lay.

The man had removed Bodine's wet clothes and covered him with a blanket. Victoria pulled up a stool and sat down beside him. She took his big hand in hers and held it to her face. Her tears fell onto his hand. How still he was, and how pale he looked.

"Oh, Bodine, I could not bear it if anything happened to you." Victoria laid her head over on the bed and prayed to God to save Bodine's life. She did not doubt that Bodine had always been the source of her strength. From him she had drawn the courage to face untold danger. She could not remember a time when he had been ill. He was always so full of life.

Victoria did not know how long she sat there praying, but she was suddenly aware of male voices in the outer room, and a stranger entered the bedroom. She rose to her feet.

"I am Dr. Dan Owens, ma'am. If you will step in the other room, I will examine your father. Manuel told me that he fell from a horse; is that correct?"

"Yes," Victoria said, with tears in her eyes. "Please help him, Doctor."

Victoria left the doctor alone with Bodine and went into the front room. She smiled at the man and woman. "I am so grateful to you both for your kindness," she said weakly. "I do not know what I would have done without your help."

The man brushed this aside. "It was nothing,
Senorita."

"Nonetheless, I am grateful. My name is Victoria Lee Farraday, and the man who is injured is my friend, Bodine."

"I am pleased to meet you, Senorita Farraday. I am Manuel Delgado, and this is my wife, Consuelo."

Victoria smiled. "How can I ever repay your kindness?"

"For one thing," the woman said, "you can come over to the fire and warm yourself. Your hair is still very wet."

Victoria allowed the woman to lead her to the fireplace, and she sat on the wooden bench that she had occupied earlier.

"Will you eat now,
Senorita?"
Consuelo asked.

"No, I cannot eat until I know Bodine is going to be all right," Victoria told her.

"The doctor is a very fine man,
Senorita
Farraday. He will fix your friend as good as new."

Just then the doctor came out, rolling his sleeves down. He came over to Victoria. She waited for him to speak.

"Your father has had a nasty fall, but he will be fine. He has regained consciousness and is suffering from a mild concussion. He will have a bad headache for a few days, but I have left medication for him."

Relief flooded through her. "I am so grateful that he is going to be all right. How can I thank you, Doctor?"

He looked down at her. She was a pathetic-looking girl, he thought. Her hair was wet and plastered to her face. Her eyes were red from crying, and he could not even tell if she had a shape from the way her dress hung on her. He felt pity for the poor, unfortunate girl.

"What do I owe you, Doctor?" Victoria asked.

He looked at her and doubted she could pay his
fee. "Nothing, ma'am. I did not really do anything
for him. There is not much for a doctor to do in such
cases. Nature is the only healer."

"But I insist," she said. "You rode out here in the rain.