Chapter Nineteen
THREE MONTHS LATER
(Which was not soon enough for either Josephine or Martin and way too soon as far as Rake was concerned)
Her grandmother smoothed the satin and lace over Josephine’s hips. The fabric had aged to the color of the French vanilla ice cream the Regal Sol served in its dining room and smelled of the gardenias her abuela had placed in the trunk where it was stored. “It’s beautiful, Abuela.”
Alberta’s eyes misted with tears as she stood behind Josephine and glanced into the cheval mirror. She rested her hands on Josephine’s shoulders and smiled. “You look lovely. I am so happy that my wedding dress fits you.”
Josephine ran her hands along the skirt of the gown and met her grandmother’s gaze in the mirror. “I can’t imagine getting married in anything else.”
Zara rushed in a second later with a length of light blue satin ribbon and a silver tiara. “You have your something old and now something new and something blue,” she said, madly waving both in the air.
She stood next to Alberta and artfully tucked the ribbon around the bun at the top of Josephine’s head, and then twined the ribbon with some of her dark curls. After, she secured the silver tiara, a bridal gift from Ronaldo, onto the top of Josephine’s head and like Alberta, stared into the mirror at the beautiful portrait of three generations of Valencia women.
“Mi’ja, I am so happy for you. Martin is such a lucky man,” Zara said.
“A very lucky man,” Alberta confirmed with a nod.
Josephine met their gazes, her eyes growing watery as she stared at her two best friends—besides Martin, of course. “I’m the one who’s lucky to have you both in my life.”
A knock came at the door. Zara hopped excitedly. “That must be Ronaldo. He was bringing a carriage around to get you. I’ll go let him in.”
Her father, God bless him, had been as demanding in helping her plan her wedding as he had been when arranging for the arrival of his troupe. Note after note had arrived via messenger with suggestions for the wedding concerning the music, venue, food, and guests for the big event. She’d understood that he was just Ronaldo being Ronaldo while also trying to make up for his absence for so much of her life.
At the sound of a footstep at her door, she turned, but it wasn’t her father. It was Rake.
“I wasn’t expecting you.” She glanced at her grandmother and said, “Could we have a minute, Abuela.”
With a regal tilt of her head, her abuela walked toward the door. When she reached it, she raised her index finger and nearly jabbing it into his face, she scolded Rake. “Do not even think of making our Josephine cry on such a special day.”
Rake stayed clear of that condemning finger, but when Alberta exited, he closed the door behind her and stared at her for long seconds.
“What is it, Rake? Is something wrong with Marcos?” Lucia had offered to watch him that morning so that Josephine could prepare for the wedding. Josephine had agreed because she knew the other woman was still feeling guilt after allowing him to be kidnapped. She wanted Lucia to know that she trusted her.
“You look so, so beautiful, Josephine,” he said, but then shook his head, as if to shake out cobwebs, and plunged on. “But no, there is nothing wrong. I just wanted to congratulate you.”
“You did?” In the months leading up to the wedding, they had worked out a schedule so Rake could spend time with Marcos. But there was still a great deal of awkwardness between the men, so the well wishes were a surprise.
He reached for her hands and took them into his. “During these last few months, seeing you together, I realized Martin is the man who will make you happiest. It was hard to admit that to myself, but he’s a good man, an honorable man. I know he’s the right choice for you. And for Marcos. I know he loves our son.”
Pleased, she cradled his cheek and offered him an indulgent smile. “Thank you, Rake. I appreciate how hard it must have been for you to say that.”
He laughed roughly and looked down. “You can’t even begin to imagine. I love you, Josephine, and I always will. But,” he exhaled and shook his head, “I need to move on with my life. So I’ve been thinking about opening a new Regal Sol over in South Beach for those people who prefer the shore to the city. I’ll have to buy some land from Mr. Collins, and it may take some time to develop the area, but I think it’s going to be a great location in the future.”
“Rake, that’s wonderful.” She rose on tiptoes and brushed a platonic kiss on his cheek. “But I thought that finances were difficult, especially with your…other businesses shutting down.”
“Well, actually,” he smiled sheepishly, “I hadn’t realized that my shares in the railroad had grown dramatically over the last six years. The bank was willing to take them as collateral if I sold them the railcar as well. Since I have things to keep me in Miami and won’t be traveling all that much, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea to sell it to the bank.”
She smiled, happy that Rake was turning things around.
“Josephine? Ronaldo is here,” her mother said through the thin wooden planks of the door, nervous energy coloring her words.
Rake offered her his arm and walked her out and to the front of the cottage where Ronaldo stood in the center of a carriage, but not just any carriage. An elegant black landau trimmed with gold leaf sat at the curb. There were two footmen in Regal Sol uniforms sitting behind the passenger area. A team of two handsome black horses waited anxiously, pawing the ground while a postilion rode the near wheel horse to control them.
“Mi’ja, your carriage awaits,” Ronaldo called out in a theatrical boom and tapped his silver-headed cane on the landau floor, causing the horses to prance some more until the postilion had them in check.
Her father wore a black tailcoat over a lavender vest embroidered with silver threads and black pants with a faint silver stripe. A tall pewter-colored top hat banded with a lavender ribbon sat jauntily on his head.
“He is quite a spectacle isn’t he?” Rake said, but the affection in his voice was obvious.
Ronaldo stepped down from the landau and helped Josephine up into the carriage. Then the footmen hopped to the ground and assisted Alberta and finally Zara, who were wearing gowns that Ronaldo had helped them find among those in the troupe’s collection of dresses. But she knew Ronaldo must have bought the gowns and snuck them in with the rest of the clothing, because they were clearly brand-new and fit the two women perfectly.
Ronaldo stared at Rake, as if questioning if he were joining them, but the other man waved him off. “This is Josephine’s special day. I’ll meet you back at the Regal Sol.”
She leveled one last glance of warm affection at Marcos’s father, and marveled when she realized that’s how she would always think of Rake now. He was no longer the exciting and dashing stranger who’d encouraged her to be brave and follow her dreams, nor the playfully enticing railroad tycoon to whom she’d surrendered her precious flower. Now he was just Rake, Marcos’s father. And more importantly, he was family.
Her father hopped back into the landau and took a seat beside her. With a rap of his cane on the floor of the carriage, he bellowed, “Please take us to the Regal Sol. My daughter is getting married today!”
Immediately the postilion slapped the reins against the horse’s flanks and they were off.
Martin grasped his hands together in front of him, nervously awaiting Josephine’s arrival.
He glanced toward the back, taking in all the bouquets of orange roses, poinciana flowers, and orchids that graced the end of each row of seats. Near the door, Francesca and Liana held similar bouquets, plus a larger one for Josephine.
A murmur rose up from the crowd near the back of the rotunda that Rake had graciously offered to Josephine and her family for the wedding. Alberta had wanted them to get married in a Catholic church but since Josephine had just had a baby out of wedlock with a married man, and he wasn’t Catholic, the Regal Sol seemed like an appropriate substitute. Especially since Father Juan would be there to provide the necessary holiness to the most blessed sacrament of marriage.
Martin’s heartbeat sped up, eager to see her, but only Ronaldo entered. At his arrival, the members of his troupe and Ronaldo’s other guests clapped. He waved at them regally and hurried toward where Martin waited.
“Are you ready, my friend?” Ronaldo asked.
Martin had asked himself that a thousand times in the last few days as the wedding preparations wound down. Was he ready to become an official father to little Marcos? As he glanced at Lucia holding the baby in the front row, he knew the answer to that question was a resounding yes.
Was he ready to spend the rest of his life with his dear Josephine?
“Martin? Are you having—what do they call them—cold toes?” Ronaldo asked, drawing him away from his thoughts.
No, he didn’t have cold feet. Not at all, he thought, and said, “I am more than ready to marry your daughter, Ronaldo.”
“I am glad, because I like you, Martin. I really like you and you will make a very good husband for my little girl.” Ronaldo theatrically gulped back a sob and sniffed. “Weddings make me very emotional.”
At that moment, Alberta and Zara came to the door of the rotunda and a heartfelt sigh escaped the man beside him. He snuck a quick peek at Ronaldo and noted the intensity of his gaze as it settled on Josephine’s mother.
“And what about you, my friend? Will there soon be nuptials in your future?”
Ronaldo smiled. “Remember what I told you that night in the saloon? The present will take care of the future, so for now, Zara and I will enjoy our time together and see where it leads.”
A louder murmur arose from the crowd as Francesca and Liana stepped outside.
Ronaldo wrapped an arm around him and said, “I think it’s time for me to get my daughter, Martin.”
Martin smiled and said, “Please do me a favor, Ronaldo.”
At that, Josephine’s father glanced at him, puzzled.
“Please don’t take too long.”
Martin couldn’t wait to get started on the rest of his life with his new wife and child.