Trella had not quite understood. “Will you treat Susan like those ladies were doing?”
“Not if you don’t want me to, no. I will treat her no differently than before. But she will find that churchgoing ladies won’t want anything to do with her, and when she walks down the street, men will look at her differently.” Her father had leaned down and said earnestly, “The important thing is that you never tarnish your reputation. Never do as Susan did, or you will live to regret it.”
Trella’s mouth went dry at the memory. Here she was, doing the exact thing her father warned against. She imagined the hurt he would feel if someone spotted her and reported it, and she almost climbed back in the window. Almost.
The path through the garden was a dim ribbon. Trella moved silently along it except for the rustle of her dress. Soon she came to the willow. Her father had planted it years ago, when the house was built, and the willow had grown to become the grandest tree on the rancho. Its overspreading boughs had shielded her from the hot sun on many a summer’s day when she had played under it as a child.
Trella’s heart was beating so hard, she thought it would burst. A thin line of sweat formed on her brow. It annoyed her. Ladies should not sweat, she told herself. Especially at times like this.
Something moved in the darkness, and Trella’s breath caught in her throat. A figure materialized and came toward her, spurs jingling.
“You are exquisite in the moonlight, señorita,” Hijino said.
Trella tried to think of something clever and bright to say, but all she could come up with was, “I came, as I promised I would.”
“You honor me with your presence.” Hijino took her hands in one of his and raised them to his lips.
Trella shivered at the kiss. He was so handsome, so dashing. She yearned to have his lips on hers, and flushed at the brazen thought. Clearing her throat, she whispered, “We must be careful. I do not want to get you into trouble.”
“How sweet. You are more worried about me than about yourself.” Hijino’s other hand drifted close to a pants pocket.
“I do not extend my affections lightly, señor,” Trella said.
“I am sure you do not.” Hijino kissed her wrist, not once, but several times. “You are exquisite in every respect.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Of course.”
“Or do you say it merely to win my affection?” Trella had to ask. It was her secret fear.
“You doubt me? After I professed my love at the stable? After I brought you those flowers I picked?”
The flowers were in a vase in Trella’s room, and if she had sniffed them once she had sniffed them a hundred times. “You must forgive me. This is all so new.”
Hijino smiled, and slid his fingers into his pocket. “It is normal to be confused. Strong emotions do that, and love is the strongest emotion of all.”
Some of Trella’s fear evaporated. He said such fine things. He was wise and worldly, and that smile of his!
“Do you want to go for a stroll under the stars? I know a spot where we can be alone. It is not far.”
“We are alone here,” Trella said. She had agreed to meet him under the willow in part because it was close to the house and gave her a sense of security. She could always run inside if she had to, or cry out if he became more forward than she was willing to allow.
“Here it is, then, lovely one.” Hijino gently cupped her chin and kissed her lightly on the mouth.
Trella’s breath fluttered in her throat. My first kiss! My first real kiss! She bent her head to encourage him to do it again, and he did, several times, and would have kissed her more had she not pressed a hand to his chest and stepped back. Her head was swimming. “Wait,” she said huskily.
“You are too beautiful to resist.” Hijino kissed her neck, her ear.
“I said wait.” Trella took another step back. Strange stirrings in her body filled her with turmoil. She craved him as she had never craved anyone, and that scared her more than anything. To give those cravings free rein invited consequences that would change her life forever, and she was not sure she wanted that to happen.
“What is it, little one? Tell me what troubles you, and I will make your troubles go away.”
Trella simmered with resentment. He should not have called her “little one.” It was what her father always called her. She almost changed her mind, almost went back inside. Then she saw his hand rise out of his pocket. He was holding something. A gift, she imagined, and stayed where she was.
“Is it me?” Hijino asked. “Do I go too fast for you?” He seemed about to say more, then suddenly grew rigid. “That is it, isn’t it? I apologize.”
“There is no need,” Trella said.
“Would that were so. Go back inside, señorita. We can meet again if you want, when you are sure.”
Trella did not know what to say. This was not how she expected their tryst to be.
“Please,” Hijino said, touching her cheek. “I would never dishonor you. Think on us. Think on my love, and we will talk tomorrow.”
“But—”
Hijino put a finger to her lips. “It is for the best. Por favor. Before I weaken. For both our sakes.”
In a bewildered daze, Trella turned and walked woodenly along the path. She glanced back, and he raised a hand and motioned for her to keep going. Another step, and the rose bushes hid him. Confusion lent wings to her feet, and as she ran, she felt her eyes moisten.
For half a minute Hijino was motionless. Then he shifted and said quietly, “How long have you been listening?”
Out of the shadows came Berto, his hand on his revolver. “A while. I saw you leave the bunkhouse.”
“Ah,” Hijino said.
“How did you know I was there? I made no noise.”
“Those cigars you smoke. Their smell clings to your clothes.” Hijino turned the rest of the way, careful to hold his hands out from his sides. “What now?”
“Do you need to ask?” Berto gestured. “You are leaving the DP. Now, this moment. If you ever set foot on the Pierce rancho again, I will have you tied to a post and whipped.”
“Be reasonable. Can’t we talk about this?”
“You miserable bastard,” Berto spat. “You deceive that poor girl. You betray our patrón’s trust. And you want me to be reasonable?” Berto started to pull his pistola. “I should shoot you where you stand.”
“I have been sincere with her,” Hijino said.
“I don’t know which is worse. Your insult to her, your insult to Señor Pierce, or your insult to me.”
“Will you permit me to collect my things?”
“I should take you to the patrón. But it would hurt him, his daughter behaving so badly.” Berto gestured. “Head for the bunkhouse. I will be right behind you.”
Hijino walked as one dejected by the developments, his shoulders slumped. “You misjudge me.”
“Shut your mouth. I do not want to hear any more of your lies.” Berto quietly swore. “I have myself to blame. From the beginning, there was something about you I did not like, something that warned me you bore watching. It was your eyes, I think. They hide the real you from the rest of the world.”
“You make too much of this. All I did was kiss the señorita a few times. Is that truly so horrible?”
“I told you to be quiet,” Berto growled. “I have not served this family for over twenty years to stand idly by while a snake insinuates itself among them.”
“Now who is doing the insulting?”