Chapter Fifteen #3
“Si, Cara. The Presidio has always been a beautiful little town.” But he frowned as he leaned forward, resting an elbow on his wide, flat saddle horn to stare down at the scene below.
“It has changed since the Anglos have come. There are many more cantinas. And there is much more gambling. The men play billiards from morning to night; they gamble at cards and monte. The places do not close, not even on Sunday.”
He smiled, but it looked a little bit forced. “Ah, but there is also now a decent hotel. Come, I will show you. The day grows late and I am sure you will be glad for the chance to rest.”
True, but she wasn’t really that tired and surprisingly she wasn’t even sore. And the ride from Las Almas with Ramon had been a joy she would never forget.
He helped her down from her mare and they checked into the Cypress Hotel, a lovely old tile-roofed adobe that overlooked the bay.
It was once a residence of the governor, Ramon said.
Lately, the place had been purchased by a group of Americans, who’d had it painted and put in good repair.
The sala, now the lobby, stood two stories high, with stained glass windows, massive wooden beams, and a fireplace at one end large enough for a man to walk into.
Their room was small but well furnished, with a sturdy oak bed, pale blue counterpane, and white lace curtains at the windows. A balcony overlooked the blue Pacific Ocean.
“It’s wonderful, Ramon,” Carly said as her husband closed the heavy wooden door.
“It is not so grand as I would like, but it is comfortable.” A corner of his sensuous mouth curved up.
“Perhaps after supper, we will see if the bed is as comfortable as the rest of the room.” Eyes tinged with gold ran over her, pausing at the curve of her breast. He reached for her, slid an arm around her waist, and pulled her against him. “Or perhaps we should find out now.”
He kissed her deeply, a long, searing kiss that made her dizzy and had her gripping his shoulders. She felt him grow hard against her, thought of that hardness inside her, and vaguely considered missing the meal altogether.
Instead Ramon pulled away. “Aye, querida, you make a man lose his head. There will be plenty of time for making love later. In the meantime, I have ordered a bath sent up. There is something I must see to, then I will visit the bath house for a haircut and a shave. We will dine when I return.”
“All right,” she agreed, still a little breathless. He gave her a last hard kiss, gathered a change of clothes, and left her.
By the time he returned, she was dressed in a low-cut mauve silk gown an Indian serving woman had pressed for her, while Ramon wore snug gray calzonevas piped in black that clung to his long hard thighs then flared out over his boots.
A matching charro jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, covering his ruffled white silk shirt.
“Where are we going to eat?” Carly asked as he propelled her toward the door.
“My cousin Maria is in town from Santa Barbara. She wished us to join her and her daughter, Carlotta, and several other guests at the home of Ricardo Micheltorena, where she is staying during her visit.” He smiled at her wickedly.
“Unfortunately, I told them we would have to decline their generous invitation … at least for tonight. This night I would have you to myself.”
A little shimmer of pleasure ran through her. “I’d really like to meet them, but I can’t say I’m sorry it won’t be tonight.”
“You will have a chance later on.”
They ate in the hotel dining room, a simple fare: an asada of chicken and red peppers, cucumbers, corn, and a guisado of beef and potatoes. Yet all of it was cooked to perfection.
They spoke of their trip from Las Almas and Carly told him how much she had enjoyed the journey through the rolling California hills. They spoke of Two Hawks and how excited he was to be learning the skills of a vaquero.
“The life he’s led must have been a hard one,” Carly said with a hint of sadness. “Until he came to Las Almas, I don’t think he ever had quite enough to eat.”
“In the early days game was plentiful. The Indians never had to worry. Now, with so many miners still working the hills, the meat hunters have come. They kill whatever game crosses their path, though much of it is wasted. And many of the younger braves have left the villages to find work. The older people, the women and children are left to fend for themselves.”
Carly nodded gravely. Then she thought of the boy and the missing blackberry pie, and found herself smiling again. “I think Two Hawks stole one of Tia’s pies. Knowing how he is about food, I didn’t have the heart to confront him.”
“He didn’t steal it,” Ramon corrected. “Two Hawks is far too honorable for that. He bought it.”
“Bought it? But how could he—” She broke off with a grin. “The stones he left on the window sill.”
Ramon smiled softly. “Trading stones. Among his people, they are used as barter. To him, they are the same as money.”
Carly laughed. “I believe Two Hawks may teach us as much as we teach him.”
Ramon just nodded. They finished their meal and returned to their room, undressed, and made love to the sound of the wind in the trees and the distant lap of water against the rocky shore.
In the morning Ramon left for the meeting that had brought him to Monterey. Carly’s single regret was that he carefully avoided any mention of what that meeting was about.
* * *
“Buenas tardes, Don Ramon, please come in.” Alejandro de Estrada, a distinguished graying man in his early fifties, motioned the tall Spaniard in.
Alejandro had written the don sometime back and been eager to meet the son of his old compadre, Diego de la Guerra, a man he had known and respected since his earliest days in California.
“Gracias, Don Alejandro, I have looked forward to this occasion for some time.”
“As have I, Don Ramon.” He smiled. “Before we begin would you care for some coffee, or perhaps a cup of cocoa?”
“Coffee would suit me well.” A short, robust serving woman brought the refreshments into his small, tidy office.
The walls were whitewashed adobe, adorned only with a painting that had been done by an artist who owed him money and the diplomas that signified he was qualified to practice law in the State of California.