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Firelight created jumping shadows across the living room walls. Juan Carlos sat with Portia beside him on the sofa as they watched Duchess bathe a kitten, her tongue taking long swipes across its furry body. The kitten took a playful swing or two at mama cat, but Duchess didn’t relent. She used one paw to hold her charge down, determined to finish the job and lick away the grime of the day before moving on to her next one. She cleansed and fed her young diligently. Duchess, for all her wildness, was a good mama cat.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Portia said. “Still thinking about the missing art treasure?”
That was part of it. His failure to find it bothered him. He’d been so certain that there were clues here on the property and yet, he felt as if he was missing something important. He couldn’t say what, but deep down in his bones he still believed the answers were here.
Yet most of his thoughts concerned Portia. They’d exhausted their search and there was nothing to keep them on the farm any longer. Tomorrow they would head back to Del Sol and then Portia would return to the States. Eventually. Unless he could convince her to stay.
“I’m thinking about us,” he answered honestly.
Portia put her head on his shoulder. “What about us?” she asked, her smooth-as-velvet voice tapping into his heart. At least she didn’t say, there is no us. She recognized that they were edging toward a precarious cliff.
Three sharp raps at the door interrupted their conversation. He gave it a glance and waited for the next two knocks, which would signal him that all was well. Those two knocks came and Juan Carlos rose, striding to the door. “It’s either Luis or Eduardo,” he said over his shoulder to reassure Portia, and then opened the door. “Eduardo. I trust everything is all right?”
“Yes. But I have something of interest I thought you would want to hear right now.”
Eduardo glanced at Portia, who was now sitting on the edge of the sofa, her eyes round with curiosity. “Regarding?”
“Your search, Your Majesty.”
Juan Carlos swung the door open wider. “Come in.”
“Your Highness,” he said to Portia as he made his way inside the room.
“Eduardo.” She granted him a beautiful smile, most likely grateful it wasn’t his counterpart, Luis, seeking them out. He could see the relief in her eyes. This afternoon, making love under blue skies behind the Jeep, Portia had let go her inhibitions and made a memory that would live forever in his mind. But afterward his Portia had gone on and on about Luis, asking how she could ever face him again.
Juan Carlos had succeeded in kissing away her worries.
“Would you like to sit down?” Portia asked.
“No, thank you. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Eduardo regarded the kittens, his expression softening.
“Duchess is coming around,” Portia said, her eyes glittering.
One look at Eduardo and the cat’s back arched, and a low mewling hiss sprang from her mouth.
Portia rolled her eyes. “Slowly she’s coming along. She should know better than to bite the hand that feeds her. Sorry, Eduardo. And how are your hands?”
He waved them in the air. “They are fine, Princess. No need to worry.”
“What did you find out of interest, Eduardo?” he asked. “Something about the search?”
“Yes, Your Highness. You gave me the list of names on the graves at the Montoro family cemetery.”
“Yes, I committed many of them to memory.” He’d tasked Eduardo with contacting his uncle Rafe and alerting him about the cemetery. Juan Carlos wanted those family plots cleaned up and the headstones that were damaged beyond repair to be replaced as soon as possible.
“Yes, well, I spoke with your uncle, as you asked. He has no knowledge of those family members or that there even was a Montoro cemetery on the grounds. Not one name seemed to jar his memory.”
“We didn’t have first names. We only found initials on the headstones. It doesn’t matter if he remembered the names or not. We will have that cemetery restored.”
“There’s more.”
Juan Carlos nodded. “I’m listening.”
“Your uncle claims that as a rite of passage, every Montoro had the privilege of being buried in the family mausoleum in Alma, whether rich or poor. If they were related to Montoro and had bloodlines, it was an honor to be buried there.”
“Yes, I know that. But surely during Tantaberra’s reign, that wouldn’t hold true anymore. After the war, everything changed. I assumed those graves were there because Tantaberra controlled even where a person would lay to rest.”
