When Tomorrow Comes (12 page)

“You changed me, though,
querida.
”

Cait leaned across the saddle, her lips touching his strong, sun-warmed mouth. “No more than you gave me life, darling,” she whispered tremulously.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said. “Let’s stop and give the horses a well-earned rest. It’s time for a siesta, and all gauchos halt their work and make maté now.”

Cait dismounted, loosened the hat she wore and placed it on the saddle horn. There were no trees in sight for as far as she could see, only the gently waving grass. Dominic hobbled both horses, cleared a spot in the ground, dug a small hole, and placed some bits of dried grass beneath a few lumps of charcoal. Cait sat cross-legged upwind from the small fire.

“You didn’t tell me you were a boy scout,” she teased.

Dominic brought the saddlebags over and laid them by Cait. “I’m not. I used matches, not a flint. Here, this is for you.” He handed her an oblong hollowed-out gourd. It was delicately surrounded by filigreed silver at the base and sported an elegant handle. “No one,” he instructed seriously, “should ever drink yerba maté without a gourd and
bombilla,
or straw. It is the custom of Argentina to provide guests with just such equipment, but nowadays, except when it is a very special person, maté is served in a china cup, with a saucer.”

Cait marveled at the beauty of the gourd, which fit comfortably between her hands. “It’s lovely, Dominic. But what do I do with it?”

He poured water from the canteen into a well-used, blackened teakettle that he placed above the fire on a hook suspended from an iron stake in the ground. He sat back on his heels, satisfaction lining his face. “It’s about time you got steeped in the customs of Argentina,
mi leona.
Very few foreigners experience this custom. Here, crumble this small handful of maté into the bottom of your gourd.”

Cait cautiously sniffed the dark-green leaves and did as she was instructed. “I feel like I’m going through an initiation ceremony.” She laughed.

“In a sense, you are. A very pleasant one, however. Here, the water’s beginning to boil. Set the gourd down and watch what happens.”

The water hit the bottom of the gourd, and a frothy green foam erupted and spewed over the sides. Cait wrinkled her nose. “Is it safe to drink?”

He poured his own, returning the kettle to the hook and adding more water. “I know it doesn’t look very appetizing. Just add a teaspoon of sugar to it.”

Cait stirred the maté, watching the foam slowly subside. She copied Dominic as he put his
bombilla
into the tea, and took her first tentative sip. Surprised, she declared, “It’s not so bad.”

“Good. Now come here and sit by me. I have a fable to tell you.”

She slid into his awaiting embrace, amazed at how well their bodies always seemed to fit together. The sun was dipping closer to the horizon, and the bright whiteness of the day was dissolving into faint rose.

“Do you know what you did by drinking the maté?” he murmured.

“No,” she replied huskily, her pulse leaping crazily at the base of her neck.

“Whether you know it or not,
querida,
you are now part of Argentina’s soul. There is an old Indian legend involving CaaIari, who is the spirit of all yerbales, or yerba maté trees and groves. Many hundreds of years ago, an old couple had a very, very beautiful daughter, and the love they held for her made them flee to the safety of the forest to protect her from marauding tribes. Unknown to them, a god disguised as a foot-weary traveler asked the old man and woman for food and housing for the night. Naturally they complied, and when the god discovered their undivided loyalty to the girl, he made the daughter immortal. Her spirit now resides in all maté groves, which she guards dutifully. When people drink yerba maté, she erases the hunger or pain they feel, and enables them to face all adversaries and dangers with courage. All who drink will come back to her land without fail.” He leaned down, kissing Cait’s cheek tenderly. “So you see, you are now my prisoner. I’ve tricked you into staying in Argentina.”

Cait smiled and sipped more of the fragrant tea. “At least for the duration of the project, huh?”

Dominic laughed, his arm tightening around her. “Longer than that if the maté legend is true,
querida.
”

Her pulse quickened. She was too content to explore the hidden meaning of his whispered words. The silence lengthened between them, and she finished the last of her yerba maté, setting the gourd down before them. Dominic massaged her shoulders, and she leaned back in response.

“You’re just like a cat,” he growled, “arching against my touch. Tell me, are you getting hungry?”

“Very much.” She grinned, turning to meet his open gaze. “I like scrambled eggs.”

Dominic managed a sour smile, getting to his feet and then lifting her from her sitting position. She settled against his fragrant male body, content to stare pensively into his golden eyes. “I had something more than eggs in mind. Like I said, it’s time you were properly introduced to Argentina. Tonight I’m going to make empanadas. You can help if you want.”

She grinned. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

They rode back toward the fiery crimson-and-saffron-colored sunset, meeting several dusty gauchos on tired horses at the juncture of the hay fields and the long-stemmed pampas grass. By the time they reached the stable, Cait was starving. After unsaddling their mounts and rubbing them down, they held hands and walked to the coolness of the small house.

After a quick hot shower, Cait joined Dominic in the kitchen. Her dark hair fell loosely about her shoulders, and he leaned down, kissing her mouth with delicious slowness. She broke away, laughing. “I thought you were hungry!”

He grinned, releasing her and putting two onions in her hands. “I am. Come on, you chop the onions and I’ll throw the rest of this together. How are you at rolling out pastry dough?”

Over two hours later Cait lay with Dominic in front of the fireplace, on a rug of spotted llamas’ wool. The warmth of the flames lulled her into a blissful doze, and she leaned back into his cradling arms, thoroughly content. Darkness had followed quickly on the heels of the glorious sunset, and now, in the late fall, approaching winter was sweeping down off the mighty Andes, rapidly cooling the flat pampas.

Dominic leaned forward, his mouth brushing her robed shoulder. “Happy?” he murmured.

“Mmm, very,” she answered drowsily. She closed her eyes, nestling against his broad shoulder. “If anyone had told me happiness like this was possible I would have said that was crazy.”

“Me, too.”

Cait smiled. Whatever it was—and she knew it was love—was working the same spell upon Dominic. “What had you imagined as a future yourself?” she asked softly.

“Loneliness interspersed with work.”

“Me, too.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “Are we opposite bookends?”

“No, we’re just pessimistic about—” She was suddenly afraid to say it…to say that one four-letter word that had made her world change from shades of gray to brilliant rainbow hues.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased, nibbling playfully on her earlobe. “I never thought that would happen.”

Cait grinned, pulling away. “Then you say it,” she challenged.

Dominic captured her hand and pulled her toward him. “Say what?” he returned huskily. “That you make my day seem lighter and my night a fantastic dream?” He kissed her palm, looking up into her emerald eyes.

Her heart thudded strongly.

“I don’t feel like a prisoner anymore,” she whispered, leaning down and finding his waiting arms.

“Never again,” he promised, covering her lips with a gentle exploratory kiss.

His moist breath fanned across her face, and she touched his mouth tenderly, tasting the bitter sweetness of the wine on his lips. In an almost lazy gesture, he nibbled her ear, placing small nips down the slender expanse of her neck to her throat. As he pulled the robe away with maddening slowness, she knew without a doubt she had never experienced such urgency as he was provoking within her now.

His entire body tensed and quivered as she rolled back, fitting herself against his frame, thrusting her hips forward to meet him. Dominic growled, his eyes narrowing, his breath harsh as he pinned her beneath him. “I want you,” he said thickly, his mouth claiming her parted lips in a bruising, plundering kiss.

Cait felt the last vestiges of the silken robe being jerked impatiently from her arms, and she made a small mewling sound of contentment as she reached up, pulling him against her. His hands caressed her taut, expectant breasts, and he leaned over, tasting the salty velvet of her heated skin. He took a nipple, suckled her.

Cait moaned, arching upward, her fingers digging into his steel-like shoulders, her body trembling with anticipation…with longing so intense that a slow ache began throbbing throughout her. His mouth sought her own, his tongue exploring the depths of her and tangling victoriously with her own. His other hand glided tantalizing down her form, across her hip bone, sliding between her waiting thighs.

This time she didn’t want him to be gentle or hesitant, as he had been before. This time she wanted to experience the uncontrolled power of Dominic. “Take me…” she pleaded, gripping his powerful shoulders. “Now…please, don’t wait…”

She was wet with expectancy, her body strained against the tempo of his own. His entire being claimed her triumphantly. Her lashes fluttered against her cheekbones as he thrust deeply into her. A cry of pleasure broke from her lips and she gloried in the brutal strength that indelibly stamped them both in that frenzied moment. Pleasure drove her deeper into ecstasy. Moments melted together and fused in a long, shuddering climax.

Cait quivered, held tightly within Dominic’s embrace for long moments afterward. Damp hair lay against her rosy, flushed cheek, and he gently pushed it away, tucking it behind her ear. “I never thought,” he whispered hoarsely, “it could ever be like this. Not in a million years.”

She nodded mutely against the curve of his neck. Her fingers trailed down the powerful biceps of his upper arm to his hand, which rested heavily against her thigh. She could feel the blood coursing strongly through each vein, hear the heavy thud of his heart within his massive chest. “I love you,” she murmured softly. She felt him shift, carefully depositing her on her back against the llama skins, an inquiring light in his turbulent gaze.

“I wasn’t hearing wrong?” he asked, cupping her face in the palm of his large hand.

Cait barely shook her head, staring lovingly up into his boyish, relaxed features. “No…you heard right. I—I knew it a long time ago,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “The past, darling…I had to work through the past first. You helped me let it go, and now I’m free…free to feel and love again. And I love you so much that my heart aches.”

Dominic’s features clouded with tenderness, and he groaned, crushing her in a smothering embrace. “
Querida,
you are my life…” he rasped thickly. “From the moment I saw you in the airport, I knew.”

Sometime later, in her drowsy half-awake state, she felt Dominic lift her from the rug and carry her into the bedroom. To feel his strong, protective arms pull her against him, to sleep beneath the goose-down quilt, stirred up something she had missed acutely—sleeping with a man she loved.

They reluctantly flew back to the work site, early Sunday evening. Cait watched the sun disappear beneath rapidly building clouds.

“Looks like a pretty well-developed cold front,” Dominic said, as if reading her thoughts.

She nodded. “I hope it comes and goes in a day’s time so it doesn’t drop very much rain at the site.”

He trimmed the tab on the plane. “I saw it barely on the horizon Friday night when I flew to BA to find you. A slow front means more rain than either one of us wants to think about.”

“Those cofferdams…” she began, and then didn’t finish the thought aloud.

“There’s a lot of green concrete in the base slab pier,” he said, “but it should stand the stress of a twelve-inch rise on the Rio Colorado.” He reached out, brushing her cheek gently. “Stop worrying,
querida.
”

Cait caught his hand and kissed it. “Now will you tell me what ‘
querida
’ means?”

“That’s ‘
darling
’ in Spanish. Do you like it?”

Her green eyes darkened, and she murmured softly, “I love it, Dominic. Never stop calling me that.”

He grinned, squeezing her shoulder. “I’m going to start calling you ‘worrywart’ if you don’t stop looking at that approaching front as if it were some kind of monster coming to devour our site.”

All too soon they had landed. Pedro met them at the airstrip. Cait sat in the pickup between the two men and felt the torn edges of a strange new fear eating away at her. Dominic walked her slowly to the door of her quarters. He made no move to touch her or to kiss her. They had already agreed that at the site, no one was to suspect their relationship. It would not be good for morale.

“Getting up early tomorrow?” he asked, his voice a purr that sent shivers up her spine.

“Yes.”

He smiled lazily, drinking in her features. “You’re beautiful in the last rays of dusk,
mi leona.
Too bad Pedro is thirty feet away and watching us, or I’d steal one last kiss. I’ll pick you up at five, and we’ll grab an early breakfast over at the cook’s trailer.”

She allowed the warmth of his voice to cloak her. “Sounds fine. Good night.”

“I’ll miss you in bed tonight,
querida.
Good night.”

Cait tossed and turned and slept poorly. The dreams that had once haunted her never came. Instead a nagging fear kept her awake most of the night. At 5:00 a.m., it began to rain.

The honk of the horn outside her quarters made her heart pound faster. Just the thought of being near Dominic made her hurry to pick up a roll of blueprints and her briefcase. The headlights stabbed into the blackness of the morning as she dashed for the vehicle. Dominic threw open the door and she climbed in, shaking off the water from her rain slicker. Before she could push away a wet strand of hair, she found herself pulled into his arms, his mouth, warm and strong, sliding across her parting lips in a tender, passionate kiss.

“There,” he growled, setting her on the seat beside him. “That’s how much I missed you.”

Cait touched his sandpapery cheek. “I love you.”

He smiled tenderly and put the truck in gear. “Ready for a hard day’s work?”

She returned the grin. “With that kind of start, of course I am.”

Louie arrived at eight and Cait called a meeting of all supervisors for an update on the project. Slowly she swung into a routine that gave her confidence. By late afternoon, reports were coming in of flooding in the lowlying areas where more and more portable pumps were being used so that work could continue. Toward nightfall, Cait grew worried as reports from upriver became more and more ominous—the water level was rising at an unprecedented rate. It meant that the newly constructed cofferdams would be subject to extreme pressure. By ten o’clock that night, Cait, swathed in a hard hat, rain gear and knee-high rubber boots, was down at the bridge-building area to personally check out the situation.

As she slogged awkwardly through ankle-deep muck, a small alarm went off in her head—Louie and Dominic had mentioned that a subcontractor had been suspected of cheating on the specs. Frowning and pushing the water away from her glistening face, Cait moved carefully to the lip of the bridge pier cofferdam. Several men with flashlights and portable lamps were down within the bridge pier form, checking the newly placed concrete.

A rise of bile in her throat made her mouth taste bitter and metallic. Her heart began pounding in her breast, and she clutched at her raincoat in reaction, panic driving a stake into her heart.
Dominic!
Her mind wheeled and screamed. Her eyes widened in horror as she recognized him down among the freshly placed formwork. She stifled a scream and began to back away from the cofferdam, her senses sheared by a growing monster of fear.

“Señora?” a worker queried, watching her strangely.

She had to contain the fear! Cait forced herself to halt. She was gasping like a fish pulled out of water. Leaning down, she forced the blood to rush back to her head and then unsteadily straightened up. “Get—” The acid bile stung her mouth, and she gagged, turning away. No! She couldn’t vomit! What was wrong with her? Oh, God, something was terribly wrong. She slid, nearly falling down the muddy embankment. The worker’s hand steadied her elbow.

“Cait!” Dominic’s voice broke through the roar of the fear and the scalding pound of rain. She whirled, precariously off balance as she saw him jogging steadily toward her. The worker gave a quick nod and released her to Dominic’s charge.

“My God, what’s the matter? I saw you up at the top and you looked like you were going to faint! Cait?” He handed the heavy flashlight to his gang boss and grabbed her by the arms, forcing her to face him. “What’s wrong?” he asked urgently.

She stared wordlessly up at him, her lips parted, trembling. She was shaking uncontrollably. If it weren’t for his strength, her knees would have buckled uselessly beneath her. “I—don’t—”

Dominic jerked his head to the left. “Dolph, get a truck up here—now!”

She uttered a moan, her body crumpling against him. The fear had taken control, and she felt helpless in its grip. Vaguely she felt herself being lifted into the truck, lying heavily against Dominic’s hard, protective body.

Later, at the base camp, he walked her into her quarters and stripped off her rain gear, forcing her to lie down on the cot while he arranged blankets around her. The nakedness of the single light bulb made the scene surrealistic as the drumming staccato of rain pierced her struggling consciousness. She felt panic returning when he left her side for a moment.

“Here,” he ordered, lifting her head and cradling her against his shoulder. “Drink this.” He placed a tin cup to her lips, and she drank the liquid obediently.

Cait gasped, struggling to sit up as the rank whiskey plunged down her throat into her knotted stomach. He touched her hair wordlessly, his eyes worried.

“Better,
querida?
” he asked softly.

She managed a mechanical nod, drawing her knees up to her chin, closing her eyes. “Oh, God—Dominic, I don’t know what happened.” Her voice cracked and she sobbed, burying her head against her knees. He raised himself onto the small bed and took her in his arms, whispering soothing, healing words. His warm breath fanned across her cheek and neck, and Cait wrapped her arms around his waist, crying softly.

Finally she was able to halt the tears and talk coherently. She lay in his arms, shaking her head in confusion. Dominic leaned over, kissing her cheek tenderly.

“Was it physical?” he questioned. “Are you running a temperature? When was the last time you had a malaria shot?”

“No. It’s not physical.” She cleared her aching throat, sitting up. He handed her the tin cup.

“Take another swallow,” he urged.

She wrinkled her nose but managed another small gulp, shivering from the effects of it.

“You said it was fear?”

“Yes.” She looked up at him miserably. “I—I feel so stupid and helpless. I don’t know what caused it. I didn’t even feel it coming on. I had just climbed up to the cofferdam and was looking at the sheet piling…I saw the men…” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait…It happened when I saw you! The cofferdam looked like a coffin!”

He grinned, caressing her arm. “Isn’t that going a bit far?” he teased.

She managed a small laugh that she did not feel. “Why would I have that sort of reaction?” she asked.

He embraced her tightly. “Maybe it’s pre-marriage jitters.”

Cait twisted free, her lips parted in disbelief. “Marriage?” she whispered.

“I don’t like the idea of sleeping alone,” he said, serious. “One night without you is one too many. Will you marry me, Cait Monahan?”

She simply stared up into his golden eyes, wrapped in the secure warmth of his love. He kissed her full on the lips. “Well,” he prodded, pulling only an inch away. “Will you,
querida?
”

“Yes!” and Cait threw her arms around him, hugging him joyfully.

He laughed and embraced her gently. “Good. Two weeks from now. After this damn rain stops. How“ about it?”

“But…your father…relatives…” she sputtered.

“It will be a small wedding, consisting of close family and friends,” he stressed soberly. “People who like and love us for us, not for what they think we should have been,
querida.
”

“I know my mom and dad will fly down. Oh, they’ll be so happy for us, Dominic.”

Already she felt much better, and insisted on going back to the office to work. They drove down to a warehouse near the bridge-building site and set up an emergency office there. Dominic checked the bridge area while Cait handled calls and gave directions to the workers. A few hours later, he returned, taking off his hard hat and shaking the excess water off his raincoat.

“What’s it look like down there?” she wanted to know.

“Holding. But I just talked to Alverez, who is fifty miles upriver, and he says another two inches is on its way.”

“What about those tie-backs?”

“They look okay at this point. Louie told you about the specs not meeting criteria?”

“Yes.” She took off her hard hat, placing it on the plyboard table and then crossing her arms, thinking about the multiple problems that could occur. She met his golden eyes as they stared at each other across the room. The rain hitting the tin roof made an unrelenting din and Cait could smell the brackish water from the river on him and his muddy boots.

“We could flood the cofferdam, but that would set us back weeks,” she offered.

“I think we’d better put a twenty-four-hour watch on the cofferdams and bridge work and keep tabs on those tie-backs on an hourly basis.”

She agreed. “Still, if something lets go, with this torrential rain, we won’t be able to maneuver equipment or trucks to make a recovery. Look at this latest weather report—the front is now stationary and won’t start moving off the area for at least another thirty-six hours.”

Dominic swore, and ran his fingers through his dark wet hair. “Great. Any other good news?”

“No. Look, you organize the watch and I’ll get the cook to provide food for the crews.”

“Okay. How about taking a break and having a cup of coffee with me after that?”

She warmed at the suggestion. Just being near him was enough to make her feel vibrantly alive. “Yes…I’d like that.”

He was just about to lean over and kiss her when Dolph opened the makeshift office door and poked his meaty face inside. “Herr Tobbar, the crew is ready. You want to instruct them?”

Dominic gave her an intense, silent look and then turned away. “Yeah. Let’s get down there. Cait, I’ll see you in about forty minutes.”

The next day dragged slowly by, the gray landscape turning into a yellowish mire of mud. Hourly reports called in from upriver kept Cait abreast of the situation. Crews worked in twelve-hour shifts, sandbagging the banks of the swollen Rio Colorado as its crimson water overflowed the banks into areas where work had to be halted.

It was a necessary part of Cait’s job to inspect problems that were now occurring all over the site. Dominic never left her side, sometimes glancing worriedly in her direction as she moved slowly through three inches of mud.

She could not logically-pinpoint the fear she had felt the night before. Even without sleep, she felt good now. She moved around the base camp, sending words of encouragement to the weary workers.

They rested momentarily in the truck, silently watching the rain. The radio crackled to life and Dominic answered the call.

“It’s Dolph. He’s getting worried about those tie-backs. Let’s go down and investigate.”

Sighing, she agreed, put the truck in gear and crept along the now washed-out road toward the distant river.

“Is this rain ever going to end?” she muttered.

He reached over, touching her shoulder. “I’m wondering, too. Listen, you’ve got to get some sleep,
querida.
I’ll play watchdog after we check out the tie-backs, and you get back to your quarters and grab six hours. When you wake up, I’ll hit the sack for another six. This rain is going to hang around at least another day and a half.”

Cait groaned. “Sleep, I could use. Okay, sounds fine. God, I hope those tie-backs hold. If they don’t…Do you realize the entire side of that hill will slide down into that one cofferdam, smashing the sheeting, and then the river will crash into it and finish off the job?”

His lips hardened. “Only too well. Dolph knows what he’s doing. He can spot a stress crack at a hundred yards, and right now he’s babysitting up there on that hill. He’ll let us know.”

Trudging up the hill, sliding and falling several times, they finally stood at the long rectangular tie-back section that stood fifty yards above the river. The cables were anchored tautly back into the earth at one end. The other anchor held the concrete retaining walls. Dolph broke into guttural German that only Dominic understood. Cait stood by, waiting for him to interpret.

“Dolph says the earth is almost soaked to its saturation point. That means the ends of those tie-backs may be weakening from the increased force.” He ran his fingers across the smooth gray surface.