Chapter Eighteen
Even though Josephine was exhausted and her stomach was a tangled knot of dread, she couldn’t sit still. With her mother and grandmother offering both physical and emotional support, she tottered back and forth across the room while Lucia, Ronaldo, and Ernesto sat there in stunned shock.
“Sin Sombra? My Sondra? I could never have expected something like this,” Ernesto said, shock lingering on his features and all earlier traces of his impatience gone.
“She was my friend for so long, Father. I cannot believe I did not see her for what she is,” Lucia wailed and covered the handprint on her cheek with a lacy handkerchief.
“Clearly, she’s a much better actor than anyone knew. Of course, not better than me.” Ronaldo tapped his chest with bravado, but his tone was flat. If he was trying to cheer them up, he was giving what was probably the first poor performance of his life.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Alberta said without doubt, crossing herself again and glancing at Josephine. “You must believe that He would not let anything happen to your precious Marcos.”
But what about Martin and Rake? she thought. What would she do if either of them didn’t come home safely?
She couldn’t imagine losing Marcos or his father. A man who had dared her to be brave and follow her dream. A man who had become a good friend.
But her heart stopped beating at the thought of losing Martin. She didn’t know what she would do if Martin didn’t return from this mission.
At the thought, her knees buckled. Zara and Alberta managed to get her to a chair. She raised her teary gaze to them. “This cannot be happening, Mami. Abuela. Why is this happening?”
Zara kneeled before her and brushed back wisps of hair from her face. “Everyone will come home safe, mi’ja.”
Ronaldo stood behind her, leaned down, and embraced her. “All’s well that ends well, mi’ja. Have faith,” he said and pointed an index finger heavenward.
“I pray you are right, Papi,” Josephine said and as her abuela laid her head against hers, tears came to her eyes at the fact that her family circle was incomplete. But buoyed by their love, she did have faith that all the missing pieces would be home soon.
Sniff, sniff, sniff. Let us all pray the circle will not be broken by the shadow of evil.
Martin and Rake sprinted to the Regal Sol and down to the secret tunnel that ran beneath the hotel and to the river. It was the quickest route to the marina, but as they hit the path along the edge of the riverbank, Martin caught sight of Rake’s yacht just beginning to pull away from the dock. He thought that he saw Sondra—Sin Sombra—at the bow of the boat holding Marcos, but his view was obstructed by the other boats moored in the marina.
He raced to the railing by the edge of the river, vying for a better view, pulled out his weapon, and called out, “Stop! By lawful authority of the Pinkertons!”
The boat continued moving away, but he didn’t have a clear shot and even if he did, he wouldn’t take it and risk hurting Marcos.
Rushing along the marina path, he cleared the last of the docks, dodging coils of rope and equipment lockers, with Rake right behind him. When he finally had an unobstructed view of the boat, he had no doubt it was Sin Sombra holding something in her arms. The woman’s normally elegant features were twisted with evil, and as he watched, she laughed and held the bundle in her arms over the yacht’s railing.
“No! Please, no! We won’t follow,” he said, hands outstretched in a pleading gesture. Then he dropped his weapon and raised his hands as if in surrender.
Sin Sombra tossed her head back and cackled. The cruel laugh drifted across the water a second before she opened her hands and dropped the baby into the water.
“Noooo!” Rake wailed, dropping to his knees. Fear had immobilized the man, rendering him helpless.
Martin didn’t hesitate. He ripped off his jacket and boater, and raced to the railing along the edge of the river. With a last look at the bundle as it started to sink below the surface, he hopped onto the top railing and dove into the water.
The cool water was a shock to his system, but he pushed through it and the swirling currents threatening to pull him downriver. Stroking powerfully, he swam as if his life depended on it, and it did because if he lost Marcos…
When he reached the spot he’d last seen the baby, he treaded water and looked around, but didn’t see Marcos anywhere. He dived down, and even with the silt of the Everglades clouding the water, the white of the swaddling cloth was visible a few feet beneath him. He kicked hard, struggling against the current until the bundle was within reach. His fingers skimmed the cloth for only a second before the current drew it away. He stroked again, stretching his fingers almost beyond imagining and grabbed a fistful of blanket. He dragged it near, scooping the bundle with Marcos into his arms. Feeling the weight of the baby’s body within the cloth, he kicked toward the surface, all the time praying that he’d been fast enough.
Paddling with one arm, he made it to the riverbank and the levee by the marina where Rake waited, terror etched onto his features. He handed the baby up to the other man, who laid him down on the marina path and began to unswaddle him.
Martin climbed up and over the railing to where Rake kneeled silently, looking at the bundle of cloth and…
A big, dead fish.
No! He had to be somewhere, he thought and combed back his wet hair with his fingers in frustration. Trying not to panic, Martin’s mind raced with thoughts of what Sin Sombra might have done with Marcos. He looked toward where the boat had taken off and ran in that direction, hoping his instincts weren’t wrong. He hopped down onto the floating dock and hurried to the empty spot where Rake’s yacht had once been moored. An equipment locker sat by the edge of the dock, its top slightly ajar.
Hands shaking, he approached the locker and knelt before it as he slowly opened the lid.
The air left his lungs at the sight of Marcos lying atop a coil of rope and assorted nets and fishing gear.
Finally breathing, relief sweeping over him, he picked up the baby and cuddled him close. The baby protested his wet clothes and let out a healthy, hearty wail of complaint, dragging a happy laugh from him.
The sound of a footstep on the wooden dock pulled his attention to Rake, who stood beside him, tears streaming down his face.
“Marcos,” Rake said softly.
Martin rose and, after the pause of a heartbeat, handed the man his son. For one small moment, as Rake cradled the baby close and kissed its head, jealousy awoke in him. This man had stolen so much from him. Josephine’s virtue. The baby he wanted to have with her someday.
But he could see Solvino’s distress, and it touched him.
“He’s all right,” Martin said, his better nature rising as he stood dripping on the dock, even though it felt as if he were watching his life rush away from him like the Miami River and Sin Sombra. Josephine had said she wanted to spend her life with him. But now that Marcos was here… How could any woman resist her baby and a father who cared as much as Rake obviously did?
“Yes, he is, thanks to you,” Rake said and held his hand out to the other man.
Martin shook it reluctantly and stepped back. “I have to go and report this to my superior. Brief my partner Nita. If we’re lucky, we can get word to our stations in the Keys and Havana. Maybe we’ll get really lucky and pick up Sin Sombra when she docks.”
“Good luck,” Rake said.
Martin wasn’t feeling lucky. He nodded and rushed off, leaving the other man with his son. Hoping that they would be able to get to Sin Sombra before she could cause any more harm to those he loved.
Josephine held Marcos close as the baby nursed. Tears of relief filled her gaze and escaped down her cheeks and onto the baby, but that didn’t disturb him as he greedily rooted at her breast. His hearty hunger gave her peace of mind that the baby truly was unharmed by the day’s ordeal.
A knock came at the door followed by Martin’s hushed words, “Can I come in?”
Her heart danced with joy that he was safe and finally there. When Rake had told her of Martin’s selflessness and how he’d risked his life for Marcos, her heart had ached at the thought of how close she’d come to losing him.
She shifted the baby’s blanket upward for modesty’s sake and called out, “Yes, please. I need to see you.”
The door opened a crack, and he stuck his head in, tentative. A bright flush of color worked up his neck and reddened his cheeks as he realized the baby was nursing. “Are you sure?”
She smiled because his embarrassment and thoughtfulness were so Martin. She held her hand out, beckoning him to join her. “I’m more than sure. Please come here.”
As he walked toward her, she drank in the sight of him. His hair was still damp in spots, but a few sandy blond curls had dried and framed his handsome face. His normally pristine charcoal-gray suit and starched white shirt were wrinkled and likewise dampened here and there. The squeak of his shoes also had a telltale squish to them as he ambled to the bed, his dirt-stained boater in hand.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as he sat beside her, his gaze skipping nervously from her face to the towel covering the baby and back again.
“Tired. Relieved. I was so worried about you. Especially when Rake told me what happened.”
“I’m fine. Just a little wet. The important thing is that the baby… Marcos, is fine.”
“I don’t know how I could ever thank you for what you did,” she said and cupped his jaw. She lovingly ran her thumb across his lips, anxious for the feel of them, but suddenly uncertain as to where they stood.
Rake had said that Martin had been quiet and subdued after he’d rescued the baby. Rake had written it off to the fact that Sin Sombra had escaped, but Josephine worried that it was more than that. Was he having second thoughts now that Marcos was really here?
“It’s my job,” he said with a sheepish shrug and a bobble of his hat in his hands.
“No,” she said confidently. “Some men wouldn’t have done what you did. To risk your life for another man’s child. A man who—”
He raised his hand to stop her. “I would do anything for you, Josephine. Anything. And for Marcos too. The instant I saw you holding him… I couldn’t love him any less than if he were my own, you know.”
“I know, Martin. It’s what makes you so, so special,” she said and gave in to the need she had been feeling since earlier that afternoon. She leaned forward and kissed him, letting him know just what she was feeling with her tender, yet demanding, caress of his lips. Feeling the glow within her expand again and bathe them both in its loving light.
He groaned and deepened the kiss, but then jerked away abruptly as the baby fussed.
“We shouldn’t,” he said, but glanced downward at where the blanket had slipped, revealing the baby as it nursed at Josephine’s breast.
Bright color rose to his cheeks again, but she took hold of his hand and rested it on the baby’s side. “Rake may be the father of this baby, but I know that you will protect him and me with every fiber of your being because you love us. Because you are the most honorable and kind man that I know.”
His lips quirked up in a half smile. “And patient. Maybe too patient. You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that I hadn’t said we should wait. That we had…that you and I had made this baby,” he said and gestured to the two of them.
With a relieved sigh, she said, “I’ve wished that also, Martin. So many times. All I can say again is that I’m sorry that I was so foolish.”
His eyes met hers, and the worry in them nearly broke her heart. “You don’t have to apologize anymore. And I know this may not be the right time to ask—”
“It isn’t because it’s my time to ask, Martin. My time to make things right,” she said.
A puzzled look flashed across his features, before his eyes widened in understanding. “Josephine, are you proposing?”
She smiled and cradled his cheek. “I am proposing, Martin, but I’m afraid I’m not very good at this at all.”
He shifted his head to kiss her palm and whispered, “You don’t have to do this.”
“But I do, Martin. Because I want you to know the reasons that I love you. I love you because you are kind and caring.”
He raised a finger to stop her. “And don’t forget patient.”
“Always patient. And you’re hardworking and responsible.”
He quirked his lips playfully. “You make me sound so…boring.”
She leaned close, ran her thumb across his lips, and whispered, “Oh no, not at all. In fact, I think about doing inappropriate things with you all the time.”
He chuckled and closed the distance between them, kissing her until her head swam, and she had to grab hold of his shoulder to right her spinning world. As they broke apart, he said, “What else?”
With a smile, she continued, “You are my best friend. As confused as I’ve been over the last few months, when I’m with you, everything seems clear, and I’m at peace.”
“That’s quite a responsibility, Josephine,” he said, growing serious.
“It is, I know, but… We can do this together, Martin. I want to marry you and have babies with you because I love you, with all my heart and soul.”
He cupped her face in his hands, smiled, and nearly shouted, “Yes, yes, yes, Josephine Galena Valencia. I’d be honored to be your husband.”
At the loud sounds of their joy, the baby stopped nursing and let out a querulous, mewling noise. They both laughed at that, and Martin reached out and caressed Josephine’s cheek. “I’ve always loved you. And I was really hoping we could do a lot of inappropriate things together,” he said as his half grin broadened into a welcoming smile that lit his crystal-blue eyes with joy and laughter.
She laughed and tangled her fingers in his hair. Gently cupping the back of his neck, she drew him near again and whispered against his lips, “You’re my best friend and my true love. I—”
He cut her off with the determined press of his lips against hers, showing her just how much he needed her. How much he cherished her as he kissed her over and over again, until they were both breathless and broke apart, laughing and smiling.
“How soon can we get married?” Josephine said.
With another grin that made her heart skip a beat, Martin said, “Whenever it is, it will never be soon enough for me.”
Aw. You see, my friends? True love wins out in the end, just like in Josephine’s beloved Jane Austen novels! But what about that elusive Sin Sombra? I cannot believe we have seen the last of her!
In the Valencia household things got back to normal much sooner than expected. By the next morning Alberta was off to work, Martin had dropped by to see Josephine and Marcos before going to the Pinkerton office, and Zara and Ronaldo were helping Josephine change the baby’s diaper.
“I tell you, there is something wrong with Marcaldo, because it is impossible for anything to smell that bad,” Ronaldo began as he waved his hand over the diaper to dispel the stink.
Josephine wrinkled her nose and grimaced. “I think Papi may be right. This smells too bad to be normal.”
Zara rolled her eyes. With no wasted motions, she quickly dispatched the offending diaper into a special laundry pail, cleaned and rediapered Marcos, and handed him to Josephine. “He is just fine. Once he’s eating regular food, it won’t be as bad.”
“I hope that won’t be too long from now,” Ronaldo said and eagerly held his hands out for the baby. At Zara’s questioning glance, he said, “I want to make up for not being here for you and Josephine.”
Zara shook her head, chuckled, and playfully whipped him with a clean diaper. “If you want to make up, you’ll learn to change a dirty diaper.”
Josephine sat at the kitchen table, loving the easy exchange between her mother and father. They were clearly content, and it was impossible not to see that there was still affection between them and maybe more. She was hopeful for that since Ronaldo intended to stay in Miami with his troupe for the next few months.
A loud knock drew their attention, and Josephine shuffled to the door, her body still tender. “Come in,” she called out, not wanting to keep whomever it was waiting.
Rake stepped inside holding a bouquet of flowers and a hand-sewn stuffed monkey doll. “I just wanted to see how you and the baby were doing.”
“We’re doing fine, thank you.” She smiled and beckoned him in farther, shutting the door. “Mami. Papi. Rake and I need to talk,” she said and inclined her head toward the back veranda.
Ronaldo crossed his arms and said, “Well, of course you need to talk. Especially now that you and Martin—”
He let out an oomph and stopped as Zara elbowed him powerfully. “Let’s step outside for some fresh air, Ronaldo,” her mother said.
Ronaldo’s eyes opened in understanding. “Oh, yes, of course. Of course.”
After he and Zara hurried outside, Rake looked at her, puzzlement warring with concern on his handsome features. “Now that you and Martin…”
“Are getting married,” she finished for him and then quickly added, “He still loves me. And I still love him.”
“And you have no issue with the fact that he was dead set on proving I was a crime boss even though I wasn’t?” he shot back and dragged his fingers through his thick hair. Tossing the bouquet and toy onto the kitchen table, he jammed his hands on his hips and began to pace. “And what about his job? It’s dangerous work. Can you handle that?” Rake challenged.
Josephine arched a brow and, in a tone as cold as she could manage, said, “It wasn’t Martin’s job that put Marcos in danger. It was your stepmother, as I recall.”
Rake muttered a curse beneath his breath and returned to stand before her. “What can he give you that I can’t? What can he offer you?”
She sighed. “He’s a good man, Rake. One who risked his life to save our son, or have you forgotten that so quickly?”
Her words were like a pin in a balloon, and he immediately deflated. “You’re serious about this? Because I meant what I said, Josephine. I’ve never stopped loving you.” He reached out to trace a fingertip along Marcos’s tiny face. “This is what I want. Our family.”
“I know. But I am serious,” she said, no doubt in her tone. “I love Martin, and I know he will do anything to make our marriage work. Including letting you be a part of Marcos’s life. Can you say the same?”
Rake blew out a breath and shook his head. “If you were my wife, I wouldn’t share you with anyone else.”
Josephine took hold of one of Rake’s hands and held it close. “I care for you, Rake, but my heart belongs to Martin. I need you to accept that, because I can’t have animosity between you in front of Marcos. Can you do that? Can you be just my friend?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment, but then he said, “I don’t want to play second fiddle to Martin when it comes to my son. Can you handle that? Can he?”
“I would never hinder your relationship with Marcos,” she said. Because she had utter faith in Martin and his selflessness, she said, “Neither will Martin. Can we all try to make this work?”
A long moment rife with uncertainty followed until Rake finally nodded. “I will try, Josephine. For you and for Marcos.”
She smiled and squeezed his hand to reassure him. “Would you like to give your son that toy now?”
At her words, the baby gurgled, right on cue, and Rake smiled. “Yes, I would.”
She watched him give their son yet another toy, his first of undoubtedly many. Rake had changed her life forever in so many ways. He’d dared her to dream and challenged her to discover what was truly in her heart. A heart full of love for Martin and the baby and yes, Rake, but not in that way. A life full with a family that was finally complete. Martin, Marcos, Zara, Alberta, Ronaldo, and yes, Rake. Life was truly wonderful.
Wonderful, yes, but let’s go back a bit. Second fiddle? A man like Rake? Never. But enough about that. It’s time to plan a wedding. And what about Ronaldo and Zara? They seemed rather friendly, didn’t they? Could it be we’ll soon be having a second Valencia wedding?