The Heavenly Surrender (27 page)

As the tears of hurt and humiliation flooded Lita’s cheeks, Genieva dropped to her knees next to her friend. “Joaquin was there, Lita. He helped us. He denounced your father and brothers and helped us.”

“
Good girl, Genieva,” Brian said, taking Genieva’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “Ya know Brevan won’t ask for help to…well, to save his life.” Genieva nodded—though she was suddenly overcome with fatigue. “I’ll talk to Travis, and we’ll be more watchful from now on. And you,” he said, pointing to his brother as he spoke, “quit playin’ the hero. Ya’ll get yarself killed.”

Brevan sighed—defeated somehow. He nodded, admitting, “It was bad today, brother Brian. It could’ve been a lot worse, too, I suppose.” Turning to Genieva, he begged, “Please get into the wagon, lass. I’m done in with chasin’ ya down today.”

Lita squeezed Genieva’s hand with encouragement as Genieva smiled and turned to go. She felt guilty for upsetting Lita when the time of her baby’s birth was so near, but she feared for Brevan, knowing it had been more than necessary to have informed Brian.

Quickly, she left the house, Brevan hot at her heels, and climbed into the wagon.

Once they were on their way again she ventured, “I’m sorry, Brevan, but you take your strength and weaknesses for granted. Juan Miguel or Cruz…you’re never watchful of trouble.”

“Yes I am. I’m more observant than ya credit me, lass,” he defended.

“You flatter yourself.”

“I don’t,” he corrected her. “I knew ya were upset when I first came into the store after sellin’ the corn, I did. I knew Jenny Evans had been twistin’ yar pride.”

Genieva breathed a heavy sigh at the remembrance of the taunting she had endured at Jenny’s hand. “You’ve no idea the things she says,” she mumbled.

“I’ve more idea than ya think. She’s been accusin’ ya of not bein’ able to keep me at home, as she puts it, since that first day we went to town together months back. I’ve no doubt that today the subject she used to undo your corset strings was in the way of the babies comin’ to everyone in me family except me.” Genieva looked at him. “And more than that…yar pride allows her to get the best of ya, it does.”

Genieva was silently fuming! Still, she delivered her rebuttal as calmly as possible. “And your pride puts your life in danger.”

He nodded. “Maybe so. So when ya’ve mastered yar own, ya can preach to me about mine.” He sighed and asked, “Now…are ya or are ya not interested in the price I got for the corn?”

Genieva looked at him, feeling her heart and temper soften. He had tried so hard during the morning to enjoy his accomplishment, his success. Yet, time after time, mostly because of her, he had been unable to do so.

“I am,” she said.

Chapter
Twelve

Brevan explained there would be perhaps one or two weeks from the time the corn was sold before the pears and apples were ready for picking to begin. One week had already passed. The bruises on Brevan’s body were fading to a yellowish-green hue, and Lita was feeling better and more energetic than she had in some time. It had taken quite a lot of self-control and patience for Genieva to calmly go about her daily chores. She found herself constantly looking over her shoulder and wondering at Brevan’s whereabouts. Still, her evening swims in the pond helped to relax her tired body and mind, and she continued to enjoy them at the end of each day.

One evening, nearly two weeks after the incident in town with Cruz, Genieva was floating in the pond, when she was suddenly startled as something fell into the water near her. By the size of the splash the object had made, Genieva knew at once it could not have simply been a fish breaking the surface. She treaded the water as she looked about, and an overwhelming sensation of impending doom caused her body to feel cold—for she saw an apple bobbing up and down in the water near her. The trees from the orchard were far too distant for the apple to have simply fallen into the pond. Someone had thrown it there. Furthermore, her instincts instructed her that it had not been a friend who had done so.

She glanced quickly about but could see nothing. The sun had begun to set, and the fuzzy colors of dusk made it hard to see clearly in any direction. Genieva began to swim toward shore. Yet as Cruz stepped from the orchard, bathed in the purple light of early evening, she was still too from shore for her feet to touch ground.

Cruz chuckled as he hunkered down on the pond’s shore, taking a large bite of an apple before tossing it into the water as well.

“I have been watching you swim for some days now, señora. It gives me much pleasure. And now when I come to speak with you at last…what do you do? You call for your hombre to come swim with you instead of me,” Cruz chuckled.

“Leave now, you…you snake! Brevan!” Genieva cried as she turned and began swimming to the opposite shore. She heard the screen door to the house slam shut, and she turned to glare at Cruz. “He’s coming. You’d better leave if you value your filthy life.”

Cruz stood, a triumphant smile on his face. “You are lucky that mí padre has forbidden me to kill your hombre, niña. I would slice his throat open before your eyes now if it weren’t for that.” As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, vanishing into the hazy light of dusk.

“It’s Cruz!” Genieva panted, swimming to shore as Brevan sprinted toward her. “He was here! Only a moment ago!”

Brevan looked about, straining his eyes through the fading light. “I’ll not be findin’ him now. He knew I was near at hand,” he mumbled. “Are ya well then, lass?” he questioned, taking hold of her hand and helping her out of the water. She nodded as she gasped for breath and pushed her wet hair back from her face. Brevan grasped Genieva’s shoulders, frantically searching her eyes. As his eyes traveled the length of her body, examining her for sign of injury, he asked, “Are ya sure, lass? Ya’re not holdin’ anythin’ from me, are ya?”

“No, no, he didn’t come into the water.” She drew in another deep breath and collapsed into the security of Brevan’s embrace. “Juan Miguel has forbidden Cruz to kill you, but I’m afraid his pride will get the better of his loyalty to his father. You’re still in great danger, Brevan.”

Brevan held her tightly against him. The warmth of his breath on her hair helped to quell the chill spreading over her body—the chill borne of being wet in the evening air and from fear.

“I’ll be fine, Genieva,” he soothed. “But no more evenin’ swims for ya, lass. Ya’d best get inside or ya’ll catch yar death. I want one more look about.”

“No, Brevan, it’s too…”

“I told ya, I’ll be fine, lass. I’ve got to be certain he’s no longer about. Off with ya now,” he said as he gathered her clothes and thrust them into her arms. She didn’t even scold him for the gentle pat he bestowed on the seat of her bloomers—for she knew it was his reassurance to her that all would be well. And besides, she adored the teasing attention from him.



The following afternoon, Lita entered the house—her eyes bright with happiness.

“Buenas tardes, Genieva!” she greeted.

Genieva and Brevan had agreed not to tell Lita of Cruz’s visit to the pond the previous evening. The time for her baby to come was too near, and they feared upsetting her. So Genieva smiled happily at her friend as if there were nothing at all amiss.

“Lita!” Genieva exclaimed. “Don’t tell me you walked all the way over here.”

“I needed the air and the walking. I could sit still no more today,” Lita explained.

“Well, have a chair, for pity’s sake. You shouldn’t be out like this. Does Brian know you’re over here?” Genieva asked. Lita’s face was too rosy and her breathing too quick it seemed.

“No, he’s gone to town for some things, and I can’t go now, you know,” Lita sighed. “Brenna is feeling so sick, and Travis is out in the orchards. I knew you would be in this time of day. It is near time for Brevan to come in for lunch, yes?”

“Yes. And my duties seem too tedious today. I had to do something else for a change, and you will be glad. Look,” Genieva said, holding out a plate of cookies to her friend. “You’ve come over on the right afternoon.”

Lita giggled and took two cookies. “Oh, it is too uncomfortable to sit. Will you walk with me in the orchard?”

“I-I don’t think you should be up so much, Lita,” Genieva argued.

“
It’s not comfortable to sit today, Genieva. I…” The cookies fell from Lita’s hand as she doubled over clutching her stomach.

“Lita!” Genieva gasped.

“Something…something is wrong…” Lita moaned.

As fate would have it, Brevan entered the house at that very moment. Frowning, he began to scold, “Lita. Brian would nag ya blue if he knew you were…” Yet, upon seeing her obvious discomfort, asked, “What’s the matter?”

“It’s the baby,” Lita answered as her face grimaced in pain. “I think…I think…”

“I think you’d better help me get her into the spare room, Brevan,” Genieva interrupted. “Then, as quickly as you can…go to town and fetch Brian home.”

“Yes, yes. I’ll fetch Brian,” Brevan mumbled as he gently gathered Lita into his arms, cradling her carefully as he carried her to the spare room. Genieva sensed his instant and complete uneasiness. She frowned—he looked entirely undone!

“Gently, gently,” Genieva reminded him as he placed Lita on the bed. “Now, before you go for Brian, fetch me some towels and put the kettle on the stove.”

“His face was as white as the snow,” Lita groaned as she almost laughed. The pain had passed for a moment, and she tried to breathe slowly and deeply.

“He’s out of his element here,” Genieva commented, taking extra pillows from the nearby trunk and placing them at Lita’s back. “I’ll get a cool cloth for your forehead.” But as she turned to fetch the item, Lita caught her hand and stayed her.

“I’m...I’m…” she whispered. “Very much fear is in me, Genieva.”

Genieva forced a smile and squeezed Lita’s hand with encouragement. “I’ve helped with birthing more times than most girls my age have, Lita. Everything will be fine.”



Still, by the time Brevan returned with Brian nearly two hours later, Genieva was frightened. Lita’s pain seemed more intense than the other women she’d attended. Furthermore, Lita was a beloved friend—a sister. This too was heightening Genieva’s own anxiety.

“Thank goodness you’ve come, Brian,” Genieva sighed as Brian entered the room. The man went straight to his wife, kneeling beside her and taking her hand in his own.

Brevan started to enter the room after him. Yet, Genieva saw the color drain from his face once more, and he slowly backed away. Snatching the cloth from Lita’s forehead, Genieva tossed it to Brevan. He caught it—though obviously startled.

“Soak it with cool water again, Brevan, and wring it out well,” she ordered. He nodded and swallowed hard. Genieva needed him. She knew his strength and control would return once he was involved, and she needed his—for hers was beginning to fade, and she knew she would need her wits about her.



“I’ve never in me life seen the like of it,” Brevan stammered as Genieva approached him in the orchard late that evening.

“I know,” she sighed. “Isn’t it…well it’s…we’ve witnessed a true miracle. It was beautiful!”

“What?” Brevan breathed. A deep frown furrowed his handsome brow as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Beautiful?”

“Yes. Lita’s strength…the baby…Brian’s concern and tenderness. Oh, Brevan, it was so…so…” Genieva struggled for words to describe the miracle she had just witnessed. She had seen children brought into the world many times, but each time it amazed and astounded her.

“It was torturous!” Brevan growled. Genieva looked up at him—startled at the unsettling tone of his voice. “I can’t even be imaginin’ such pain! Such loss of blood and strain on a body.”

“It’s the way babies are born, Brevan. Everyday…everywhere. What did you think…?”

“I never imagined it was the like of what me own eyes just witnessed, I didn’t,” he answered. The fear and anger in his voice was alarming—leaving Genieva speechless. She had never seen Brevan McLean frightened by anything—but witnessing the pain and effort of childbirth had truly dealt the man an unsettling realization. She’d noticed his initial nervousness, but when Lita began pushing the baby from her body, he had once again become the impenetrable wall of strength she had always known him to be. It was, after all, he who had settled Lita when she had begun to panic at the most crucial moments before the baby was delivered. It had been he, Brevan, who had kept his brother calm when watching his wife’s agony had nearly become too much for the man to endure.

“They’re both fine, Brevan. Lita…the baby. They both…”

“She could’ve died, Genieva!” he exclaimed, taking hold of her shoulders and looking desperately into her eyes. “She would’ve left Brian alone and broken in the world. He loves her more than his own life, he does.”

“And so do you,” Genieva muttered as understanding struck at her heart.

Brevan released Genieva’s shoulders and straightened. “Of course I love her. She’s family. Me own sister in a manner. I’d never want to have to bury her, and I’d not wish to watch Brian suffer either.”