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At the sound of approaching footsteps, the horse—a big bay gelding—snorted, and the driver’s black eyes opened. “Ah, señor,” he said, tipping a wide-brimmed hat. “A ride for the lady?’
“Sí.” Trent fished in his wallet for a bill and asked to be taken downtown.
“To see the beautiful Santa María—just like the name of Columbus, his boat, no?”
“Right,” Nikki said, grinning. It felt good to be out in the sunshine, to see the shadows of swaying palm fronds play across the ground, to talk to someone other than Trent, to feel young and carefree despite the worrisome fact that she remembered so little of her past.
Trent helped her into the leather seats, and the driver climbed onto his perch and flicked his whip over the gelding’s ears. The carriage began to creak as it rolled forward, bouncing a little on the uneven street of timeworn cobblestones.
With a hat to shade her face and huge sunglasses to cover her eyes, Nikki nearly felt normal. Sitting next to Trent, feeling the length of his leg rest against hers, smelling the soap and leather scent o
f him, she could almost imagine herself a bride on her honeymoon. Almost.
Trent threw one arm behind her shoulders, though he didn’t draw her close, and his fingers tapped restlessly on the tucked upholstery supporting her head. His eyes, hidden by his aviator glasses, were restless, always on the move. His jaw was stern, his lips compressed, and never once did he seem to relax.
It was as if he was looking for something. Or someone. Expecting danger. Lines of strain carved his skin at the corners of his mouth and his fingers kept up their nervous beat. Like a restless, wary animal, he watched and listened.
Nikki refused to let his anxiety infect her. It had been ages since she’d been out among people, and she hadn’t realized what a social creature she was. Delighted, she watched street vendors try to hawk their wares from umbrella-covered pushcarts parked on the street corners. Bicyclists and motorbikers vied for room with a few cars and ancient pickups that clogged the streets. Yet the old horse plodded on, undisturbed by the noise and motion of this lazy city.
Overhead, suspended from lampposts, baskets of flowers blazed in a profusion of color. Deep purple blooms and bright pink buds trailed from long vines and fluttered in the breeze, perfuming the air already filled with the scents of saltwater, fish and seaweed.
It was a glorious day. The sun was blazing with tropical heat, but the breadfruit trees and palms offered some shade. As the carriage moved slowly downhill, Nikki stared past the driver and haunches of the draft horse to catch glimpses of the ocean, azure and sparkling with sunlight. Schooners and fishing rigs skimmed the bay, and to the north, jagged rocks, small islands unto themselves, rose like the spiny backs of ancient sea monsters hidden deep in the water.
Involuntarily Nikki shuddered, and her good mood dissipated on the wind. She looked upward to the cliffs above the city to see the crumbling bell tower of the old mission, barely visible through the dense foliage of the hills. Why had she been running up the steep path and who had pushed her? For, despite Trent’s claims otherwise, someone had deliberately shoved her over the embankment, hoping that she would plunge to her death on the rocky shoals.
The driver pulled the horse to a stop, and as Trent tipped the driver, Nikki hopped to the ground, careful to land on her uninjured foot. For a second she felt as if someone was watching her, and she turned quickly, looking at the throng of tourists crowding the street, half expecting to meet a stranger’s malevolent gaze, but none of the tourists or locals wandering through a central square of shops and cafés near the park were paying her the least bit of attention. Most were walking slowly, a few had found a seat in the ornate wrought-iron benches to eat, read or smoke, still others threw scraps of food to the flock of birds that had gathered in the shade of several grapefruit trees.
She told herself that she was being silly—that some of Trent’s tension had infected her, but she couldn’t recapture her lighthearted spirit of only moments before.
The sound of music from a steel-drum band floated on the breeze as Trent led the way along the sandy boardwalk that rimmed the water. People strolled along the docks, stopping to barter at outdoor booths and carts, chattering in a variety of languages.
At a small café, Trent ordered breakfast of fresh fruit, fried bread and scallops. They sipped fresh orange juice and thick black coffee and watched the ocean, which glittered in the sunlight.
“You didn’t tell me about any of the women in your life,” she said as she finished her coffee.
“You didn’t ask.”
Leaning both elbows on the table and balancing her chin in her hands, she said, “I’m asking now.”
He grinned. That slow, sexy smile that caused a nest of butterflies to erupt in her stomach. “All the gory details?”
“Every one,” she replied, though a pang of jealousy surprised her. The thought of Trent with another woman was unsettling.
He took a long swallow from his cup, then frowned into the dregs. “There isn’t really much to tell. I had a high school sweetheart in Toledo, but she ended up marrying another guy—someone more stable, which translates into dollars. The kid’s dad owned one of the biggest steel mills in the Midwest. I moved from one college to another, didn’t put down any roots or leave many broken hearts.”
“You haven’t been married before.”
He shook his head.
“Never came close?”
“Not as close as you,” he said, tilting his head to one side and surveying her. “You still don’t remember Dave?”
She thought back, trying to conjure up some memory, some link to a man she’d nearly married. He was handsome and athletic—she’d seen that much in the snapshot she’d found in her wallet—but there was something else about him, a personality trait, that seemed to surface in her mind. “Not really, but I have this feeling he was very dominating.”
Trent lifted a shoulder, but Nikki was on a roll. “That’s right. Not overtly demanding, but always subtly suggesting that I should dress a little differently, act more sophisticated, get a job more suitable for a woman….” She felt an old emotion break through the void in her mind. “He…he took me somewhere once, to the symphony, or the opera, or something, and he bought me a dress because he didn’t like the clothes I’d been wearing.” She remembered opening the box, excited until she’d seen the black sheath with the gauze sleeves and skirt so short she wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably.
“It’ll look great on you,” Dave had insisted, and to keep him happy, she’d worn the dress, even letting him tell her to pin her hair up in a French braid. All evening she’d felt uncomfortable. He’d introduced her to friends, showing her off as if she were another acquisition, just as he’d proudly displayed his new top-of-the-line sports car and his gold watch. Though he’d cared about her, Nikki had always gotten the feeling that his love hadn’t gone past the surface, that if she’d been born ugly or scarred, he wouldn’t have cast her a second glance. Lips curling wryly, she wondered what he’d think of her now with her battered face.
