Ray would be furious with her for failing, and afraid that Gabriel would want his five thousand dollars back.
Five thousand dollars. Lorilla tried to envision it as she washed her face. Ray had never seen that much money in his life. No wonder he'd been anxious to get rid of her. He was a rich man, now. If she went back there, he could kill her, or make her wish she was dead.
A sick fear sat like an anvil on her chest. Where would she go? There was no place on earth for a woman cast out. Lorilla remembered after her father died, lying awake at night, her stomach gnawing with hunger as she listened to her mother cry.
Marrying Ray Stegall had stopped her mother's crying, but the terrifying memories had never gone away. Her mother was indebted to Ray, as he so often pointed out, for giving her and her daughter a home. He never let her forget how lucky she was to have him, and he never let Lorilla forget that she was excess baggage.
As she dried her face, Gabriel's words echoed in her ears. You were hoping for a Prince Charming? Tossing the cloth down, Lorilla crossed the room to the windows. She pulled aside the drapes and looked out across the fields that surrounded Gabriel's rancho. Yes, she'd been looking for a Prince Charming, someone who wanted her. It was why she'd believed Ray's lies.
She pressed her palm against her chest, where the pain was centered, and blinked as tears filled her eyes again. How had Ray known the secret of her deepest heart?
It didn't matter. She'd jumped at the chance, believing that at the end of her journey was a kind man who wanted nothing more than to care for her.
Instead she was married to a man who hated her for deceiving him, who slept in his study rather than be near her, and who would send her away at the first opportunity.
A knock sounded, startling her. As she turned from the window and furtively wiped her damp eyes, Josepha entered, burdened again by a huge tray. "Senora, I prepare some soup. After the long journey, and the excitement, the soup will settle your stomach."
"Thank you, Josepha."
Setting down the tray, Josepha approached her, clucking her disapproval. "You must have some new clothes. We must send for fabric immediately. As soon as the holidays are over."
"Oh, Josepha. I almost forgot. Today is Christmas Day."
"Si, Senora. A day of rest after the festivities of the past week."
"Christmas Day, a day of rest? But what about Mass, and presents, and…"
Lorilla realized she sounded like a child. Obviously the Mexican people celebrated Christmas differently. Lorilla had always loved making presents for her stepbrothers when they were small. She felt a stab of homesickness. "So, are the celebrations over?"
Josepha pulled her over to the small table and chair. "You sit and eat. You are too skinny. Christmas celebrations were over last night, Christmas Eve, but you and the Senor were otherwise occupied, no?"
Lorilla ducked her head, too ashamed and embarrassed to even look at the little housekeeper.
"Ah, Senora Lorilla, is not to be shy. The marriage, she is strange custom. Almost everyone knows what marriage is about, but no one talk. It is the secret that is no secret. Now you eat your soup and take a siesta, and I will be about my business."
"Josepha?" Lorilla called, just as Josepha was leaving the room. "Would you…would you mind sitting with me, please?"
Josepha peered closely at her. Realizing her eyes must still be red and puffy from crying, Lorilla quickly looked down at the soupspoon she held.
"Senora Lorilla, everything is good, no?"
Lorilla shook her head and blinked back tears. "No, Josepha. I don't think anything is good." She took a deep breath. "My mother died when I was ten. I'm not sure I know everything I should. Gabriel is very unhappy with me, and I don't understand why."
Josepha patted her hand comfortingly. "Your mother die when you are ten years? But someone, an aunt, a
Five thousand dollars. Lorilla tried to envision it as she washed her face. Ray had never seen that much money in his life. No wonder he'd been anxious to get rid of her. He was a rich man, now. If she went back there, he could kill her, or make her wish she was dead.
A sick fear sat like an anvil on her chest. Where would she go? There was no place on earth for a woman cast out. Lorilla remembered after her father died, lying awake at night, her stomach gnawing with hunger as she listened to her mother cry.
Marrying Ray Stegall had stopped her mother's crying, but the terrifying memories had never gone away. Her mother was indebted to Ray, as he so often pointed out, for giving her and her daughter a home. He never let her forget how lucky she was to have him, and he never let Lorilla forget that she was excess baggage.
As she dried her face, Gabriel's words echoed in her ears. You were hoping for a Prince Charming? Tossing the cloth down, Lorilla crossed the room to the windows. She pulled aside the drapes and looked out across the fields that surrounded Gabriel's rancho. Yes, she'd been looking for a Prince Charming, someone who wanted her. It was why she'd believed Ray's lies.
She pressed her palm against her chest, where the pain was centered, and blinked as tears filled her eyes again. How had Ray known the secret of her deepest heart?
It didn't matter. She'd jumped at the chance, believing that at the end of her journey was a kind man who wanted nothing more than to care for her.
Instead she was married to a man who hated her for deceiving him, who slept in his study rather than be near her, and who would send her away at the first opportunity.
A knock sounded, startling her. As she turned from the window and furtively wiped her damp eyes, Josepha entered, burdened again by a huge tray. "Senora, I prepare some soup. After the long journey, and the excitement, the soup will settle your stomach."
"Thank you, Josepha."
Setting down the tray, Josepha approached her, clucking her disapproval. "You must have some new clothes. We must send for fabric immediately. As soon as the holidays are over."
"Oh, Josepha. I almost forgot. Today is Christmas Day."
"Si, Senora. A day of rest after the festivities of the past week."
"Christmas Day, a day of rest? But what about Mass, and presents, and…"
Lorilla realized she sounded like a child. Obviously the Mexican people celebrated Christmas differently. Lorilla had always loved making presents for her stepbrothers when they were small. She felt a stab of homesickness. "So, are the celebrations over?"
Josepha pulled her over to the small table and chair. "You sit and eat. You are too skinny. Christmas celebrations were over last night, Christmas Eve, but you and the Senor were otherwise occupied, no?"
Lorilla ducked her head, too ashamed and embarrassed to even look at the little housekeeper.
"Ah, Senora Lorilla, is not to be shy. The marriage, she is strange custom. Almost everyone knows what marriage is about, but no one talk. It is the secret that is no secret. Now you eat your soup and take a siesta, and I will be about my business."
"Josepha?" Lorilla called, just as Josepha was leaving the room. "Would you…would you mind sitting with me, please?"
Josepha peered closely at her. Realizing her eyes must still be red and puffy from crying, Lorilla quickly looked down at the soupspoon she held.
"Senora Lorilla, everything is good, no?"
Lorilla shook her head and blinked back tears. "No, Josepha. I don't think anything is good." She took a deep breath. "My mother died when I was ten. I'm not sure I know everything I should. Gabriel is very unhappy with me, and I don't understand why."
Josepha patted her hand comfortingly. "Your mother die when you are ten years? But someone, an aunt, a
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