As if she had taken an oath to tell the whole truth and nothing but, Katie corrected him. "Actually, I was having trouble with a man who was, ah, kissing me in the parking lot, and Ramon hit him. He was a little intoxicated I think."
Behind his gold wire spectacles, the priest's eyes turned into icicles. "Senorita," he said with contempt, "are you trying to tell me that Ramon Ga-verra engaged in a drunken brawl in a public parking lot of a cantina over some woman he did not know—namely, you?"
"Of course not! Ramon hadn't been drinking, and I certainly wouldn't call it a brawl—he only hit Rob once, and that knocked him unconscious."
"And then what?" the priest demanded impatiently.
Unfortunately, Katie's wayward sense of humor chose that moment to assert itself. "Then we stuffed Rob in his car, and Ramon and I drove away in mine."
"Charming."
A genuine smile drifted across Katie's features. "Actually, it wasn't quite as terrible as it sounds."
"I find that hard to believe."
Katie's smile faded. Her eyes turned a deep, rebellious blue. "Believe whatever you wish, padre."
"It is what you wish me to believe that astounds me, Senorita," he snapped, rising from behind his desk. Katie stood up, her emotions so tangled by this unexpectedly abrupt conclusion to their interview that she scarcely knew whether she felt relieved or worried. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, puzzled.
"You think about it, and we will meet again on Monday morning at nine.''
An hour Later, Katie" had changed into slacks and a white knit shirt. She felt angry, bewildered and guilty as she began the hike up the long hill from Gabriella's house to the cottage where Ramon was working.
On the first plateau, she turned to look out over the hills splashed with wild flowers. She could still pick out the roof of Gabriella's house, and Rafael's house, and of course, the village itself. Ramon's cottage was so much higher than the surrounding houses—two more plateaus up, in fact—that Katie decided to sit down and rest. Drawing her legs up against her chest, she wrapped her arms around them and perched her chin on her knees.
"It is what you wish me to believe that astounds me, Senorita," the old priest had said. He actually made it seem as if she were trying to give him a bad impression, Katie thought angrily, when in actuality she had shopped all day in a shirtwaist and heels so that she would be appropriately and respectfully dressed when she kept her appointment!
She had merely told him the truth about how she and Ramon had met, and if that outraged his old-fashioned morality it was certainly not her fault. If he didn't want his questions answered, he shouldn't ask so many of them, Katie thought wrathfully.
The more she thought about it, the more blameless Katie felt for the hostile tone of her first meeting with Padre Gregorio. In fact, she was feeling quite justifiably indignant about the whole thing until Ramon's words floated through her mind. "How could you forget your appointment with Padre Gregorio only a few hours after I reminded you of it?... Padre Gregorio is the only possible obstacle to our getting married in ten days. Do you want him to decide we are not suited, Katie?"
Uncertainty promptly cooled Katie's ire. How could she have forgotten that appointment? Her first wedding had required months of preparation and countless appointments with dressmakers, florists, caterers, photographers, printers and a half-dozen other people. Not once had she ever "forgotten" an appointment with any of them.
Had she subconsciously wanted to forget yesterday's appointment with Padre Gregorio, Katie wondered a little guiltily. Had she deliberately tried to make a bad impression on Padre Gregorio today? That question made Katie squirm inwardly. No, she hadn't tried to impress him either way—bad or good, she admitted to herself. But she had let him form a distorted and unflattering image of her meeting with Ramon at the Canyon Inn, without trying to correct it.
When he tried to probe into her divorce she had practically told him it was none of his business. With innate honesty, Katie conceded that it was very much his business. On the other hand, she felt she had a right to resent anyone—anyone at all—who tried to force her to discuss David. Still, she could have been less hostile about the subject. She could have simply told Padre Gregorio that her reason for divorcing David was adultery and physical brutality. Then, if he tried to delve further into the subject, she could have explained that the details were impossible for her to discuss and she would rather forget about it.
That's what she should have done. Instead she had been uncooperative, flippant and coldly defiant. In fact, she could not remember ever being so brazenly discourteous to anyone in her life. As a result, she had antagonized the only man who could stand in the way of her marrying Ramon in ten days. What a foolish, irrational thing for her to have done.
Katie picked up an African tulip that had fallen beside her and began idly stripping it of its scarlet petals. Unbidden, Gabriella's words came to mind. "You have not bought one thing just because you want it." At the time, Katie had disregarded that as being untrue. But now that she really thought about it, she realized that she had unconsciously avoided choosing one single item that would put the stamp of her femininity, or her personality, on Ramon's house. Because that would obligate her to marry him and live there. The closer their wedding day came, the more alarmed and hesitant she was becoming. There was no point in denying it, but admitting it didn't help either. When she left St. Louis with Ramon she had been so certain that coming here was the right thing to do. Now, she was certain of nothing. She couldn't understand her fear or her uncertainty; she couldn't even understand some of the things she was doing! For someone who prided herself on her logical thinking, she was suddenly behaving like a complete neurotic. There was absolutely no excuse for her behavior, Katie thought angrily. Or perhaps there was. The last time she had committed herself to a man, to marriage, her world had fallen apart. Few people knew better than she what an agonizing, humiliating experience a bad marriage could be. Perhaps marriage was not worth the risk. Perhaps she should never have considered remarrying and—no! Absolutely not!
She would not let the emotional scars David left her with ruin her life and destroy her chance to have a warm and happy marriage. She would not give David Caldwell that much satisfaction—dead or alive!
Katie jumped up and brushed off her slacks. On the second plateau, she turned again and looked down on the village. She smiled softly, thinking that it looked like a page from a travel brochure; tiny white toy buildings nestled in green hills, with the church in the center. The church where she would be married in ten days.
Her stomach instantly clenched into knots at the thought, and Katie could have wept in desperation. She felt as if she were being torn to pieces. Her mind pulled her one way and her heart tugged another. Fear coiled in her chest, desire pulsed through her veins, and her love for Ramon burned like a steady, glowing fire in the center of it all.
And she did love him. She loved him very much.
She had never actually admitted that to herself before, and the admission sent a fierce jolt of pleasure and panic through her. Now that she acknowledged her feelings, why couldn't she just accept her love for this beautiful, tender, passionate man, and follow wherever it led her?
Follow love wherever it led her, Katie thought with bitter despair. She had done that once before, and it had led her into a living nightmare. Biting her lip, Katie turned away and started up the hill again.
Why was she suddenly thinking of David and her first marriage all the time, she wondered miserably. The only similarity between David and Ramon, other than their height and coloring, was that they were both intelligent. David had been an ambitious, talented attorney; a polished, worldly man. While Ramon....
While Ramon was an enigma, a puzzle: a well-spoken, widely read, intelligent man with an intense interest in, and staggering grasp of, world affairs. A man who could mingle with effortless ease among her parents' sophisticated friends—a man who chose, neverthele
ss, to be a farmer. A man who chose to be a farmer, yet had no deep feeling, no real pride, in his land. He had never offered to take Katie into the fields, even though she had asked to see them, and when he discussed improving the farm with Rafael, Ramon spoke with resolute determination—but never any real enthusiasm.
Katie had been so surprised by his attitude that earlier this week she asked him if he had ever wanted to do something besides farm. Ramon had answered with an uninformative "Yes."
"Then why are you going to do it?" Katie had persisted.
"Because the farm is here," he had replied unanswerably. "Because it is ours. Because I have found more peace and joy being here with you than I have ever known."
Peace from what, Katie wondered desperately. And if he was really happy, he didn't always look it. In fact, there were many times this past week when Katie had glanced at him and glimpsed a grim taut-ness in his face, a ravaged harshness in his eyes. The instant he realized she was watching him, the expression would vanish. He would smile at her—one of his warmly intimate smiles.
What was he hiding from her? Some deep sadness? Or something much worse? A streak of viciousness like David's or—
Katie shook her head in denial. Ramon was nothing like David. Nothing like him. She stopped in her climb to break off a branch of a small flamboyant tree. It was covered with yellow blossoms and she raised the branch to her nose, trying to chase away the tormenting uncertainties that pursued her everywhere.
As she came to the top of the hill, Katie heard the sounds of hammers and saws coming from the cottage. Four painters were working on the outside applying a fresh coat of white paint to the bricks and wood trim, another was painting the shutters black.
Her spirits lifted when she compared the run down hovel it had seemed to be on Sunday, with the way it looked now. In five days, with the help of an army of carpenters, Ramon was transforming it into
the picturesque little house he must have remembered visiting in the days when his grandfather lived here.