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Maggie laughed but quickly caught herself when the people nearby responded with hostile frowns. Someone recognized Rafael and Santos coming up behind him and shouted their names. The crowd then parted and swept them forward on a wave of helpful hands. It was like swimming through thick seaweed, and Maggie clung to Rafael’s arm to keep from falling. Santos used his crutches to good effect, while Fox and Ana grabbed his coattails and hung on.
The crowd’s final rolling shove landed them at the entrance. Ana pulled a scarf from her purse, and Maggie paused to don the lacy mantilla. Going from the bright morning sunlight to the dimly lit basilica left her feeling dizzy and disoriented. Rafael hugged her shoulders to keep her by his side. Seats had been saved for them in a front pew, and she was relieved they wouldn’t have to stand. She hoped Mrs. Lujan, Refugio and the ranch hands weren’t lost in the crush, but she recognized no one seated near them.
The basilica’s high vaulted ceiling lent the air an ancient chill, while it was too warm in the closely packed pews. Maggie leaned against Rafael. “Do you dream of a crowded funeral?”
He responded with the harshly disapproving glance he’d turn on a naughty child, but she was way past mere misbehavior. The incense-scented air made her nauseous, but she hadn’t eaten enough to become ill. She closed her eyes, which only intensified her discomfort. Too anxious to sit still, she crossed and uncrossed her legs. She might usually be as detached as Craig claimed, but she’d never harbored such a damning secret as she carried today.
Santos had called ahead to confirm the funeral mass he had planned on Monday, but Maggie wished they’d been able to attend the earlier, far more intimate service. She left her hand in Rafael’s and attempted to follow the mass, but her heart was too heavy to be soothed by the soft rumble of spoken prayers or the beautiful organ music. Trapped where she sat, she checked her watch often.
When the mass came to an end, they remained seated while the basilica cleared. As the crowd thinned, Santos stood to stretch. “There’s no way to escape the reporters, but I’ll handle them.”
Maggie rose and took a step to follow her brother, but Rafael held her back. “Do you really think I’d want a funeral crowded with strangers?”
“Isn’t that what all matadors have?”
He took her hand. “Let’s go rather than argue here.”
“How can you argue with the fact Spaniards worship their matadors?”
“That isn’t the issue,” he hissed.
Maggie was uncertain what the issue was. She’d merely made an observation, and he’d objected. It had been a question, not an accusation, but once a matador grew used to fame and adoring crowds, it had to be difficult to walk away. Some stayed in the ring until they died.
When they reached the small area left open at the church steps, there were more than a dozen reporters waving microphones and yelling predictable questions. Santos repeated the lines they’d written yesterday at lunch and refused to say anything more. Dissatisfied, the reporters called to Rafael, who ignored them. Fox was mistaken for one of the crowd. A woman recognized Ana Santillan and asked if she and Santos were engaged.
Used to the inane chatter at fashion shows, she shook her head and held up a bare left hand. Santos took her arm and headed toward the hotel. “Let’s go.”
There were still so many people milling around, they lost track of Fox for a moment, but he caught hold of Rafael’s coattail and made it into the Hotel Tibur. “I hope I never have to go through that again,” he said. “People had no idea who I was and still pawed me.”
“It’s annoying, isn’t it?” Ana agreed. “Do you suppose anyone is still at the reception?
“Why don’t you go and look?” Santos suggested. When she walked away, he nodded toward the garage. “Want to make a break for it?”
“No,” Maggie stressed. “That would be rude.”
“She has her car here,” Fox reminded her. “She wouldn’t be stranded, and I’d wait for her.”
“A gentleman doesn’t ditch a woman in a hotel,” Maggie insisted.
Fox shrugged. “My school must have forgotten that rule.”
“Well, remember it.” Maggie heard Rafael laugh but didn’t turn to tell him to shut up. She was coming apart in tiny bits, and it just wasn’t worth the energy.
Ana soon returned. “The room’s already been cleared, and a maid is running a vacuum cleaner. Does anyone want to have lunch here before we go?”
“No, thank you,” Santos answered. “We need to get back to the ranch. Fox, you ride with us this time.”
“No, I’d rather stay here and eat with Ana. I’m starving, even if you aren’t.”
Santos opened his mouth to argue, but Maggie stepped in front of him. “I’m sure it’s all right to allow Fox to stay if you don’t mind driving him back to the ranch, Ana.”
“Of course not,” she replied, and Ana and Fox walked toward the restaurant entrance.
“I hope she won’t try to seduce him,” Santos murmured.
“She wouldn’t have to try very hard,” Rafael mused.
“Stop it!” Maggie cried. “That’s not in the least bit funny. Let’s just go.”
