AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No one knew where you were.”
“You found me,” she sassed back.
“I got lucky.”
“Then there’s nothing to fight about!”
“Like hell. If you haven’t noticed, lady, there’s a storm rolling in off the ocean.”
“I’ve been through storms before.”
“This isn’t Seattle.”
“That much, I remember.” Angrily she wound the reins in her hands, the leather cutting into her palms. “You can come with me or you can go back to the hotel. I really don’t care,” she said as she placed her left foot in the stirrup and mounted. “I’m going up to the mission. I missed it last time around. Don’t want to make the same mistake twice. Hiya!” She kicked her mare and the horse sprang into a gallop, leaving Trent to eat her dust.
“Serves him right,” she told the gray. “I’ve never seen such an overprotective, arrogant, self-important macho jerk! I can’t believe I married him!”
But he wasn’t a man to be put off by a few strong words, or so it seemed as she heard the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Hazarding a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw Trent, riding hell-bent for leather, the gelding’s longer strides easily closing the distance between the two horses. “How about that,” she muttered, nudging her mount faster. She felt a perverse satisfaction that he’d been compelled to follow her. For some reason he’d taken on the responsibility of her protector, or at least that was what he had hoped she would think.
The mare was breathing hard by the time Nikki drew in on the reins near the mission. Dropping to the ground, she surveyed the ruins. The walls of the centuries-old church were still standing, though cracked and beginning to collapse from years of fighting a grueling and losing battle with the weather. The roof had succumbed long ago. Pieces of red tile were still visible, but there was a gaping hole exposing cross beams and rotting rafters.
The bell tower was beginning to crumble, the stone fence surrounding the mission in ruin and the place was deserted, as if only ghosts resided therein. Nikki felt a chill of apprehension as she tied the mare to a low-hanging branch of a breadfruit tree and walked through a sagging arch to an area where tangled weeds were all that remained of once-tended gardens.
“The monks who lived here left nearly a century ago,” Trent said, tethering his horse before he followed her through the ruins. She slid through the opening left by a door no longer in existence and ventured into the church vestibule. The stone floor was cracked and weeds grew between the worn-flat stones leading to the raised platform which had once supported an altar. Vines grew on the inside of the walls, testament to the uselessness of the remaining roof.
“Why’d they leave?”
He lifted a broad shoulder. “Lack of interest, I suppose. The mission was already beginning to need a lot of repairs, and the population of monks had dwindled. Salvaje wasn’t as populated as some of the other islands. Off the trade routes, it also didn’t develop as quickly.”
“I’d think monks would like that kind of solitude.”
“A few stayed, but eventually died. The last, Brother Francis, lived here until 1930, I think, but he was murdered in his sleep by a woman who swore he was the father of her child. Rumor has it that he still walks the ruins at night.”
The ghost’s footsteps seemed to crawl along her flesh. “You’re kidding,” she said. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’ve never seen him myself, but a lot of the natives are superstitious and they believe that his soul is still earthbound.”
“That’s kind of creepy.” Nikki ran her fingers along one rough wall, and encountered the web of a large black spider. She quickly stuffed her hand into the pocket of her skirt. “Why were we coming to visit this place the other day?”
“Sight-seeing.”
Her brow puckered, and she remembered the dream, running through the steamy jungle, her feet stumbling as she broke from the dense foliage to the grassy headland rising over the sea. She’d heard a voice—a harsh male voice issuing orders to her in Spanish.
¡Dama! ¡Por favor! ¡Pare! She’d only run faster, the voice of her assailant spurring her upward toward the mission though her lungs had burned like fire with each breath.
“Oh, Lord,” she whispered, leaning suddenly against the wall. Yes, she’d seen the path, taken it a few short steps, and then a heavy hand had pushed her over the edge and she was falling, falling…
“Nikki.” She jumped at the sound of Trent’s voice and the feel of his hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”
The vision faded and she was staring up at him, shivering though the temperature was sweltering, the humidity high enough to draw beads of sweat on her forehead. “I keep thinking about the dream.”
“It’s over,” he said.
“I don’t think so.” She rubbed her arms and walked to a window which no longer held glass but offered a view of the changing horizon. Schooners, their masts devoid of sails, were harbored near the town, and the beach was nearly empty. Overhead, the bellies of heavy clouds had turned a deep purple hue and caused the ocean to swirl in dark, angry waves.
“We’ll be home soon.”
“And that will make everything right?”
