Cinderella in Overalls (11 page)

“Everyone?”

She shook her head. “Everyone but Pedro and the padrón. The padrón paid off the workers with shares in the mine. Pedro still has his.”

“Who was the padrón? Where can I find him?”

“He went away for good. Far away. It wasn’t safe to stay. It isn’t safe to go.”

Old Pedro shuffled impatiently, and they thanked him again and left. Josh had one more question, but he already knew the answer. The padrón was his father. Escaping death by the skin of his teeth. And coming that close to finding his fortune.

They walked back to the car, the new, improvised clamp in Josh’s pocket, thoughts of avalanches and falling rock and silver flooding his mind. Catherine watched silently while he raised the hood, inserted the new hose and tightened the new damp. He held his breath, but the clamp stayed in place.

He turned to say goodbye, his eyes the clear blue of the sky. But there were lines of fatigue around his mouth, and the shadow of a beard along his jaw. She felt a stab of guilt. She’d slept comfortably in her bed while he was doubled up in the back seat of his car. He’d taken her to dinner. He’d gotten than the loan. She owed him something. She owed him a lot. Besides, she wanted to ask him more about the mine. She touched the sleeve of his wrinkled shirt.

“Come and have breakfast before you go.” He looked surprised, and that made her feel guiltier. “It isn’t a big deal. Just some coffee and bread. You must be hungry.”

“I am,” he said, and they walked into the house where it was dark and cool. While she watched he ate four slices of bread spread thickly with sweet butter and strawberry jam. She refilled his coffee cup and sat down across from him at the rough-hewn pine table.

“How did you know about the Tochabamba Mine?” she asked.

“From my father.”

She set her coffee on the table. “Was he the padrón?”

“Yes. I don’t know why, but I’m sure he was. So I’m not the only one holding shares to a worthless silver mine.”

“You said your father had incredible stories to tell.” A vision of a small boy, his blue eyes round with wonder, filled her mind.

He nodded. “That was one of them. The one I liked best.” He rubbed his hand across his chin. “It had everything—danger, treasure and excitement. It was such a good story that when I grew up I wondered if it was true.” His gaze drifted over her shoulder to the window, to the fields, to the faint outline of the mountains beyond. There was a longing there she couldn’t ignore. She put her hand on his.

“I’ll talk to him again. I’ll ask him where the mine was. We’ll get a map and go look for it,” she said impulsively, catching the excitement, sensing that there was more than silver at stake.

His gaze turned from the horizon back to the room. Back to reality. “No, don’t bother him. It’s not important. There’s probably nothing there.”

Puzzled by his sudden change of mood, she shrugged. “Whatever you want.’’

Abruptly he stood and pulled her up from the chair with him, his hands holding hers tightly. “This is what I want,” he said. Her heart pounded so loudly that he heard it. He’d shared his secret with her, and now he wanted to share even more. How much more he wasn’t sure.

He kissed her forehead, and she lifted her face to his. The look in her eyes told him she wanted this as much as he did, that she’d been waiting for this moment for days, for weeks, forever. A voice in his head told him he couldn’t afford this kind of distraction, that already he’d let her influence him too much. More than she should.

He could still stop. It wasn’t too late, the voice in his head told him. But whatever the voice said, his brain chose not to hear. Instead his lips chose to brush against hers, testing her response. Just one kiss, he thought, one kiss after all this time. But when she buried her fingers in his hair his control snapped. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her over and over with all the force of his pent-up desire.

Her arms tightened around his neck. Her kisses were sweeter than the jam she had made, warmer than the freshly baked bread. And he couldn’t get enough. The more she gave the more he wanted. Finally they pulled apart, breathless and panting. His heart banged against his ribs. It was excitement; it was panic. He had to get out of there while he still knew what he was doing. Before he picked her up and headed for a hayloft somewhere. Before they did something they’d both regret.

He jerked himself back to the present. Unsteadily he walked to the open door. She followed him. “Thanks for the breakfast.” His voice was like gravel. He paused and ran his hand lightly over her dark hair. He was sorry. Not sorry he’d kissed her, but sorry he didn’t have room in his life for a woman like this. His goals lay ahead of him almost within reach: his promotion and security. He couldn’t afford any distractions. No women, no silver mines.

Breathless and shaken, she followed him to the car, wondering what it all meant. She stood there, making a dent in the dirt with the heel of her shoe while he started the engine. She leaned down and looked through the window. “When will I see you again?” she asked.

“Friday,” he answered. “Can you bring your group to the bank in the morning?”

“Yes, sure.” She clenched her hands tightly at her sides. Her stomach churned. She told herself it meant nothing to him. It was just a kiss or two, that was all. She forced herself to think about the loan. It was really going to happen. He’d made it happen. She was grateful for that. He reached for her, holding her face in his hands, mesmerizing her with his eyes. Then he kissed her again, slowly and thoroughly. Trembling, she pulled away. Without a word he drove off into the dust.

She watched until his car was out of sight Long after it was gone she stayed rooted to the ground, staring straight ahead to the horizon. Thinking about the distance between them, she felt an overwhelming sense of loss. But there was more than the miles separating them. Much more. He was obviously a man with a dream. What business was it of hers if he refused to follow it?

She had other things to worry about. At the sound of a bleating goat she turned and faced the chores she had to do every day. She couldn’t let thoughts of Josh and his father’s mine interfere with her own life. She coaxed the goat into the yard and brought a clean bucket from the shed. She tried to think about making goat cheese and how to sell it, but in her mind she traveled across mountains to a distant mine, where a man could find his dream and a woman could make it come true.

A more unlikely group never stood at the entrance to the International Bank of La Luz, Catherine thought. They chattered nervously. They tapped their feet on the marble steps. They giggled at the sight of secretaries in tight skirts and high heels. They were only a few miles from the Rodriguez Market, but the street where the bank was located was in another world of trees and flowers and monuments. On Friday morning it was filled with traffic and people on their way to work.

With one last word of encouragement to the women Catherine pushed the heavy glass door open and stepped inside. The women fell silent. Suddenly she regretted her decision to wear her peasant clothes. She felt as out of place as they must feel in this high-ceilinged lobby with its marble floor. She wiped her palms on her skirt and told a man behind a desk that she wanted to see Mr. Bentley. He gave her a doubtful look but picked up the phone.

By the time Josh reached the lobby, Catherine had convinced herself she’d dreamed the whole thing. The kiss, the loan and the truck. But when she saw him their eyes locked and held. And the unspoken message calmed her nerves and soothed her psyche. Yes, I remember, he telegraphed across the room, and she felt the heat rise to her face.

She smiled at Josh. He smiled at the women. It was a beautiful day. It was an historic day. They went to a room where they heard a man explain the loan process, slowly and clearly with pictures, in Spanish and in Mamara. The women leaned forward, hanging on every word.

Catherine’s eyes glazed over with joy. They were beginning a new era. She stood at the back of the room, too choked up to speak.

Josh pressed his shoulder against hers. “Do you think it will work?”

“It has to,” she said under her breath.

After the session, the women went back to the market and Catherine stayed behind to look at the repossessed trucks parked behind the bank in a parking lot. She gave Josh her hat to hold while she raced the engines, pounded the tires and tested the brakes.

“I don’t know,” she said, looking down at him from the driver’s seat. “I hate to think of our profiting from someone else’s loss.”

He opened the door and held out his hand to help her down. “The somebody elses were drug dealers, if that makes you feel any better. The government confiscated their houses, their cars and their jewels. We got their trucks before they even got a chance to use them.”

“Oh, well, in that case.” She didn’t allow herself to think of where this truck might end up if they had to default on their loan.

“This one?” he asked.

“This one,” she said firmly. “I can’t wait for them to see it. I can’t wait to drive it.”

They walked back to the bank. “You’re not afraid?”

“Afraid? I’ve been driving tractors bigger than this since I was fourteen years old.”

He held the door open for her. He liked the way her chin tilted up. He admired the way her eyes sparkled when she was excited and he enjoyed the pleasure the truck brought her. If the whole thing failed and he wound up behind a loan officer’s desk in Boston, he’d remember her eyes, warm and soft or dancing with delight. But in the meantime... They stood on the wide front steps.

The sun was directly overhead. A shoeshine boy appeared from nowhere and approached Josh. He shook his head absently and looked at his watch. “What about lunch?”

She shook her head. “I’ve already missed a half day of work. I’m terrible at bargaining, but I’m useful in other ways.”

A smile stole over his face. “I’m sure you are.”

She looked down at her dusty shoes, then back to meet his gaze. “When can we have the truck? Today?”

“If I stay late and work on the papers. Do you have a license to drive it here?”

“I got one when I arrived, just in case. I’ll send the women home with Tomás. Next week they’ll apply for their permits. When should I come back?”

He set her hat firmly on her head and let his fingers trail across her smooth cheek to her chin. “Soon.”

She nodded and then she was gone, down the steps on rope-soled shoes before he could give her money for a taxi. He started after her, but she disappeared into the lunchtime crowd. The sun shone just as brightly after she was gone, and the air was just as warm. But there was something missing. Catherine.

She was interfering with his work. She was disturbing his sleep. He wanted her around all the time, but that wasn’t possible. The next thing he knew she’d talk him into going to the mine or borrowing more money for something else.

She came at five o’clock. He was pacing back and forth when she walked through the door. He told her the license was ready, but the ownership papers weren’t processed yet. They could check back later. What he didn’t tell her was that even when the papers were ready he wasn’t going to let her drive home alone in the dark, no matter how much experience she’d had with trucks and tractors.

She nodded and he looked around. Customers were still waiting for tellers. Bank officials were in deep discussions with important clients behind closed doors. Banks and stores stayed open until 7:00. Josh usually worked late. But not tonight. Not with Catherine standing there with one braid over her shoulder, her face tilted up to his, her expression hopeful and expectant. He had a wild desire to grab her arm, run out the front door and get lost in the bustling, vibrant city out there.

He did the next best thing. He led her firmly out the door with his hand on her elbow.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I don’t know. You know the city better than I do Take me somewhere I haven’t been before. That won’t be hard. I haven’t been anywhere.”