Authors: Connie Mason
“Julie is sleeping,” Rod said quietly, cradling her inert form in his arms. “I believe she’ll be all right once she recovers from the shock. She is strong and will soon forget what that bastard did to her.” Though Rod did not put it into words, his meaning was all too clear.
“Oh, no!” uttered Mae softly, the back of her hand muffling the sound. “How could he? How could he hurt a sweet innocent thing like that?”
Marty exploded into a tornado of fury. “I hope you killed that no good skunk,” she sputtered loudly, her face flushed with anger. “Did you make him suffer first?”
“He got away, Marty,” Rod admitted sourly. “Julie needed immediate attention and Kelly crawled away into the darkness while my back was turned. But I can’t concern myself with him now. I must see to my wife.”
“I’ll help you,” Mae offered quickly.
“No!” said Rod, startling her with his vehemence. “I … I’ll do it myself. You’ve been up all night and your other boarders will be wanting breakfast soon. Just send up some hot water.”
“Well,” said Mae skeptically, “if you say so.”
“I’ll manage,” replied Rod grimly, starting up the stairs with his slight burden.
“I’d better get back to work, too,” declared Marty, looking around for Wong Li. But the Chinaman had mysteriously departed only moments before, his yellow
features set in hard lines.
Julie awoke while Rod was bathing her. “Rod,” she whispered weakly, “I wasn’t dreaming. It is you. You are here.”
“I’m here,” Rod said grimly. “But
madre mio,
Julie, I was too late!”
“Too late?” asked Julie, dazed. “If you hadn’t arrived when you did, Kelly would have killed me. I’m sure of it.”
“Don’t think about it,
querida,”
Rod soothed gently. “If only I hadn’t left you on your own that beast wouldn’t have raped you. I should have been more persistent. I should have put you aboard the first ship going east.”
“Raped!” repeated Julie, stunned by Rod’s words. “He couldn’t have! I would know if I had been raped. I’m sure you’re wrong, Rod.”
Rod wanted to tell her about the blood and all the other signs pointing to her rape by Brute Kelly but was too much of a gentleman to divulge all the hard, cruel facts. “Do you hurt badly?” he asked softly, gently.
“No … I … I feel nothing. He … Kelly, knocked me unconscious. He could have raped me but I’m certain he didn’t. Could … could you have been mistaken? Surely I am capable of determining if my own body had been violated.”
“Perhaps,” Rod hedged, refusing to meet her questioning gaze. “Perhaps it is best we forget Kelly and all that happened.” If she didn’t want to face up to what had happened to her, Rod decided, then that’s the way it would be. He realized that rape was a terrible thing for a woman to experience and he was far too honorable to mention it again.
“Relax,
querida,
” he urged, his face tender as he laved her bruised flesh. “Kelly won’t hurt you again. I’m going to take care of you from now on.” He finished his gentle ministrations and sat back, studying
Julie with quiet concern. Her right eye was beginning to swell and turn purple and a reddish bruise covered one cheekbone.
“Take care of me?” Julie repeated dumbly. “What do you mean?”
“
Querida,
I feel a responsibility towards you,” Rod explained patiently. “After Kelly ra—, after he hurt you, I can no longer shirk my responsibility. My duty is clear.”
“What are you talking about, Rod?” Julie asked, still mystified.
“I’m taking you home with me, Julie. To
Rancho
Delgado. You are my wife and I owe you my protection.”
Julie gasped, shocked by his surprising declaration. “What about Elena? What will your father say? What…”
“One thing at a time,
querida.
It matters little what anyone thinks. By the time we arrive we will be truly wed.”
His words confused Julie. Weren’t they already married? Surely it was too soon for the annulment to be granted, wasn’t it? She asked him, his answer astounding her.
“I … haven’t spoken to my lawyer yet concerning our annulment,” Rod admitted, flustered. If the truth be known he had plenty of time to speak to his lawyer but somehow he kept putting it off until it was too late and he was already on his way to San Francisco. The reason behind the procrastination escaped him but the way things turned out it was just as well.
“I don’t understand,” Julie said, more baffled than ever. “You said—”
“Forget what I said,” Rod stated more harshly than he meant to. “You are my responsibility. I shouldn’t have married you but I did. From now on I’ll take care of everything.”
Despite her deep fatigue, despite her bruised and aching body, Julie’s anger erupted. “I refuse to become someone’s ‘responsibility.’ I will not be treated like a possession and an unwanted one at that,” Julie fumed, incensed by Rod’s lack of sensibility. She would be a burden to no man. “I don’t need your protection. You don’t love me and I certainly don’t love you! Do you think your father will accept me as your wife? No! Neither will Elena. It’s impossible, Rod. This whole situation is impossible,” she contended. “It can’t be and you know it.”
“It will be,
querida
,” Rod schooled sternly. “I won’t hear another word about it. Our marriage will not be disputed. The strict code of honor under which I was raised demands I do this. You are my wife and nothing or no one will change that.”
Julie sighed heavily, too weary to protest further. Sensing her exhaustion Rod rose to leave. “Sleep,
querida
,” he advised. “When you awaken it will all seem like a bad dream. When you are fully recuperated we will leave for my
hacienda
.”
Two days later Julie found herself bidding a tearful farewell to both Mae Parker and Marty Sloan. No matter how long and hard she had protested, in the end she was forced to comply with Rod’s wishes. Not even her argument of continuing her search for her father served to dissuade him from his misplaced sense of duty toward her. In Julie’s estimation their loveless marriage was destined for more trouble than either of them was prepared to face.
In the two days and nights prior to their departure Rod made no demands upon her, leaving her in Mae’s capable hands while he prepared for their trip down El Camino Real to San Luis Obispo. Perhaps he had no intention of consummating their marriage, Julie thought dismally, suddenly recalling how her body had once come alive under his hands and lips. No doubt he
now thought her not good enough for him and wanted no part of her. Well, that was all right with her, she decided evasively. She had no desire to experience a man’s lust again. Brute Kelly had cured her of all her girlish romantic notions with his attempted rape, for Julie knew he had not completed his vile act.
Finally, all her goodbyes were said and Rod was loading her belongings in the bed of the wagon which also contained an assortment of supplies needed for their journey south. Because Julie could not ride, the wagon was necessary. Rod’s own mount was tied behind the disreputable but sturdy vehicle.
“Are you ready,
querida?
” Rod asked in an attempt to hasten their departure. “It grows late.”
“You bring her back, Don Rodrigo, you hear?” commanded Mae, swiping a roughened hand across her misting eyes. “It’s not so far that you can’t visit once in a while.”
“I promise,” laughed Rod, boosting Julie onto the springless seat.
Before long the wagon was traveling along the forty-foot planked toll road that led out of San Francisco’s muddy business district and which ended abruptly at Sixteenth Street. Soon even the wheel ruts and prints of animals and men disappeared into the grassy fields. The dunes in the background were studded with chaparral. Julie gazed dispassionately at the cattle grazing for miles between peninsula foothills and the wide southern arm of San Francisco Bay.
El Camino Real, the king’s road, was the name given to the old mission trail, Julie knew from what Rod told her, consisting sometimes of nothing more than rude paths connecting San Francisco with San Diego, an arduous six to eight day journey. It would take over four days and nights just to reach San Luis Obispo.
Along El Camino Real lay the missions established by the Franciscans as early as 1769. Now, the chain of
adobe buildings stretched from San Diego to San Francisco. In 1833 the Secularization Act doling out half the holdings of prosperous missions and settlements to the state vastly reduced the missions. The other half was divided among Indians capable of living independently of the missions. The Franciscans were then relegated to nothing more than curates as the missions were turned into parishes.
Their first day along the trail was exhausting as well as nervewracking for Julie. Rod not only kept his pistol at the ready but a rifle placed at his feet for added protection. He patiently explained the need for caution.
“Brigands and
banditos
frequently travel these roads in search of easy prey,
querida.
No one knows the actual count of the number of persons who met violent deaths along El Camino Real. Robbery, murder, even lynchings are common occurrences.”
Julie suppressed a shudder, imagining a brigand behind every dune and rock waiting to pounce upon them. At noon the first day they had lunch at the Grizzly Bear, a well known roadhouse. That night Rod secured a room for them at the Nightingale. Julie was relieved when he made a pallet on the floor for himself and fell immediately asleep.
The next day, after having lunch at the Mansion House, Rod informed Julie that civilization for them would end at the Red House Inn. From this point on, they would sleep in the wagon during the remainder of their journey.
The going was sometimes rough, the paths taking them at times along stretches of road hugging mountain sides, through swollen streams and across miles of parched semi-dry desert country. Julie held her breath each time they began yet another of the steep climbs and descents, but Rod’s expert driving brought them through safely. After all, he was no stranger to the pitfalls of El Camino Real.
That evening Rod built a fire and Julie prepared a simple meal of beans, bacon, biscuits and coffee. While she cleaned up, Rod made their beds amid the sacks and barrels, laying down a thick pad of blankets. When it was time to retire he thoughtfully turned his back while Julie slipped off her dress and slid between the rough blankets wearing nothing but her thin chemise. She did the same for Rod until she felt him settle down beside her, squirming to make himself comfortable.
Because of their close quarters Julie could feel the heat of Rod’s body scorching her along one side. She felt him shudder at the contact and flushed, mistaking his reaction for revulsion. Was he still thinking about Brute Kelly and how he had laid hands upon her, she wondered? Did he think she had enjoyed his foul touch? Finally, she felt him relax and allowed sleep to overtake her.
Sometime during the night, the wind arose and Julie instinctively moved closer to Rob, seeking his warmth. As if to hold her in place, Rob threw a leg over her slight form, his body half covering hers. Julie awoke with a start, suddenly aware of the weight pressing down upon her. She screamed, reliving in her mind that horrible moment when Brute Kelly was attacking her even though she remembered very little of it.
“No! No!” she cried out, thrashing about wildly. “Please don’t hurt me!”
Abruptly, Rod awoke to find Julie in his arms, crying out and fighting off an imaginary assault. “Julie, it’s Rod,” he soothed gently. “No one will hurt you,
mi amor,
Kelly is dead. He won’t be able to harm anyone again.”
His words must have gotten through to her for she immediately calmed down. “Kelly is dead?” she repeated dully. “How do you know? Did you …are you the one who—”
“No,
querida,
” Rod admitted ruefully, “but I wish I
had been the one to snuff out his worthless life.”
“Then, who—”
“No one knows. He was found along the trail the day after … after … he abducted you. His tongue was missing and so were his … genitals.”
“My God!” gasped Julie, hiding her head against Rod’s shoulder.
“He bled to death. Some think
banditos
were the culprits but I’m more inclined to think the Tong responsible for the killing.”
“The Tong?”
“A secret Chinese society that seeks their revenge by cruel, almost inhuman methods. I believe your friend, Wong Li, had a hand in it.”
“I’m not sorry he’s dead,” Julie grimaced, “but the method, it’s … it’s …” She shuddered, unable to continue.
Suddenly aware of the thinly clad form burrowing into the protection of his arms, Rod’s body reacted violently. For days he had fought against his rising need for this honey-haired enchantress, deliberately turning his back upon her, sleeping apart so as not to become aroused by her nearness.
Por Dios,
he wanted her! And now, here she was, pressed intimately against his growing hardness. Instinctively his arms tightened and Julie cried softly against the pressure.
Without warning Rod’s lips found hers in the darkness. At first his kiss was gentle, but swiftly turned hungry, possessive, his hot tongue driving into her mouth to ravish the velvet recesses within. One kiss melted into another until it became a continuous blending of their bodies. Against her will, her lips parted to the sweet, hot thrust of his tongue. The kiss was the magic that released her response.
Their bodies touched, clung and molded together as his lips slid from her mouth, along the long column of her throat, settling finally at the hollow where a tiny
pulse beat furiously. Julie sighed as Rod impatiently slid her chemise from her shoulders to her waist. When his greedy mouth found an engorged nipple she grew weak with desire as his rough tongue lapped lovingly at the tender bud.
“I want you,
mi amor,
” Rod whispered hoarsely.
Julie’s voice cracked but she mastered it as she replied. “I … I thought that … that you didn’t want me, that I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you,” admitted Rod in a burst of insight, “but knew that we had no future together. Kelly succeeded in bringing us together as no one else could. Now that I have been forced into this marriage, I feel free to take you with no regrets.”