Free Bride of the Baja by Jane Toombs Page A

you and I. Your mission and the Mendoza rancho are only a few leagues apart, while Governor Sola and Monterey are many leagues to the north. Help me, padre. Tell me what I can do."
    "There is much truth in what you say, Don Esteban. However, I must first write to Prefect Garcia Diego of the Santa Clara Mission for instructions. I will do so at once. I can do no more now."
    "We must be patient," Esteban said to Jordan. "Padre Luis will do all he can."
    "How long must we wait?"
    " Quien sabe ? Who knows? Perhaps it will take two weeks, perhaps two months. You must realize that the workings of the church and the government are slow and ponderous. The prefect may have to seek advice from Mexico City. We must wait to hear if you don’t want your sister to be forced to hide her face in shame for the rest of her life."
    Margarita took her brother's arm. "I've waited a year, Esteban," she told him. "I can wait no longer. "
    "We cannot risk disgrace. We shall wait until permission is given.” Estanban said. “After that you will be honored, you will be a woman of renown for the wait. You may even become a legend."
    "I don't want to be a legend, I want to be a wife. The wife of Jordan Quinn."
    "And you shall. Be patient." Esteban looked about the church and found his overseer sitting in the last row of benches. "Senor Huerta," he said in a voice loud enough for all to hear, "there has been an unfortunate, although temporary, delay. How long we must wait, no one yet knows. In the meantime, I wish the fandango to begin."
     
    Jordan heard the whine of a mosquito. Damn, he thought. He snuffed his bedroom candles. Damn the mosquitoes, damn the governor, damn Padre Luis, damn Esteban.
    He walked onto his balcony, abandoning his journal for the time being. The night was dark, with the moon hidden by high clouds. From a distance he heard guitars and the sounds of singing and laughing. Jordan smiled grimly. A wedding feast without a wedding. A fandango without the bride and groom. When Don Esteban had asked them to come, Jordan had cursed and Margarita had fled to her room in tears.
    Looking down from the balcony, Jordan saw, in the faint glow from the lanterns, two men walking unsteadily toward the house. Linking their arms, they began to sing a sad, rambling ballad about la paloma , the dove. Suddenly one of the men stopped and stretched full-length on the ground. Failing to rouse him from his drunken stupor, his companion went on into the house, his voice raised again in song.
    This is the time to act, Jordan told himself. He crossed his room and walked along the gallery. When he came to McKinnon's room, he knocked, slipped inside and whispered a few words to the mate. McKinnon nodded, walked quickly to the stairs and disappeared into the darkness.
    Jordan returned to his room. Pushing the bed curtains to one side, he lay down, intending to rest for a few minutes. Instead, he fell asleep almost at once.
    Gunshots awakened him. He sat up, not sure where he was until, through the white netting, he saw the glimmering lights from the fandango. He swung from the bed and hurried to the gallery and down the steps.
    Men ran past him in the dark-- women clustered in small groups. He heard shouts and the clatter of hoofbeats. Another volley of gunshots came from beyond the corral. He smiled to himself. So far, so good.
    Jordan found Esteban standing beneath a lantern, giving instructions to men who listened, nodded and then hurried off into the night.
    "What happened?" Jordan asked.
    Esteban glanced at him impatiently. "Indians. They've stolen our best horses and made off into the mountains. We're preparing to ride after them."
    "Can I help?"
    "You?" As soon as he spoke, Esteban appeared to realize the scorn in his voice. "If some of them had taken to the sea in one of their canoes," he said in a softer voice, "you could pursue them in the Kerry Dancer . In the mountains, no, you would be of no help--we must ride far and fast. We may be gone for