Golden Chances Book 3 - The Dancer
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* * *
Elena Gabaldon, shaking with dread, knew Davis Burwash walked behind her but she didn’t look back as, her nakedness covered by the black cape, she hurried toward the house. After what Davis had tried to do to her in the ruins, she certainly couldn’t remain in his house any longer. Despite Meg's need for her, she’d leave in the morning.
Elena slipped inside the front door as quietly as she could and crept up the front stairs, afraid a servant might see her if she used the back. She gained her room with a sigh of relief. After hiding the bundled shawl in a corner of her wardrobe, she poured water into the washbasin and dropped the cloak to the floor.
The door opened. Elena yelped, grabbing for the discarded cloak. She was partly relieved to find it was Stella, not Davis. Stella crossed to her and pulled aside the cloak, staring at her blood-smeared nakedness.
"Oh my God!" Stella exclaimed, shaking her head. "I told you to stay away from him."
Elena burst into tears. Once started, she couldn't stop. She cried while Stella washed the blood from her back and dabbed arnica on the thorn scratches, wept as Stella slid a nightgown over her head and led her toward the bed.
"Hush, now," Stella urged, patting her shoulder. "Get into bed. You need to rest.”
Elena obediently climbed onto the bed and took the handkerchief Stella handed her. "I can't stay in this house," she said between sobs.
Stella sighed. "No, not after this. I knew there'd be trouble with Davis but I didn't think he'd go so far as to force you. He'll hate himself for it and the sight of you will make it worse. You can't stay here. Meg will have a fit but I'll promise her you'll come to her after she's married to Warren and in her own house. You will, won't you?"
Elena nodded. She couldn't desert Meg entirely; Meg needed her. She wasn’t quite sure what Stella meant by “force.” Yes, Davis had hurt her, but she didn’t think he’d finished what he’d started to do. Which had been terrible enough. Best to avoid men entirely after this.
"I know you give your aunt money to live on," Stella continued, "but all I can offer is a job at my cantina in El Doblez until the marriage takes place. Ricardo Gomez manages the cantina for me now that his father's dead--I'll talk to him if you like."
"Thank you," Elena said, drying her eyes. A cantina, she thought. Tia Francesca will have a heart attack at the idea. "It's kind of you to help me," she added. "I don't mind working in a cantina but please don't tell my aunt."
Stella smiled. "I understand how she feels. Don't worry, Ricardo will see to it the men won't bother you and you can room with his mother, Lucita. She's my good friend. As for Davis--possibly you'll never forgive him but try to remember how badly he wanted you. Because he thought you'd given yourself to Rory, he was driven by lust and jealousy, a bad combination. They're violent creatures, men, and there's little a woman can do to change them. Put Davis from your mind, sleep if you can, I'll see to Meg."
Erasing Davis from her mind was impossible with all the wounds from the thorns still smarting. She certainly never wanted to come anywhere near him again, but forgetting what he’d done to her wouldn’t be easy. Forgive him? Never! After fretful tossing and turning, Elena's final thought as she slid over the border into sleep was that maybe Ricardo Gomez would let her dance in the cantina.
* * *
In the two months Elena worked at the cantina, she learned more about the way men and woman behaved with each other than she had in all the rest of her years. Ricardo guarded her fiercely so she wasn't unduly troubled by crude advances. And he permitted her to dance every night once he saw she was talented enough to draw a crowd
A fast-moving, dramatic California saga about the people--Spanish, Anglo, Mexican and Indian who struggled, fought, made mistakes, loved and survived to build the foundations of the Golden State.
* * *
Elena Gabaldon, shaking with dread, knew Davis Burwash walked behind her but she didn’t look back as, her nakedness covered by the black cape, she hurried toward the house. After what Davis had tried to do to her in the ruins, she certainly couldn’t remain in his house any longer. Despite Meg's need for her, she’d leave in the morning.
Elena slipped inside the front door as quietly as she could and crept up the front stairs, afraid a servant might see her if she used the back. She gained her room with a sigh of relief. After hiding the bundled shawl in a corner of her wardrobe, she poured water into the washbasin and dropped the cloak to the floor.
The door opened. Elena yelped, grabbing for the discarded cloak. She was partly relieved to find it was Stella, not Davis. Stella crossed to her and pulled aside the cloak, staring at her blood-smeared nakedness.
"Oh my God!" Stella exclaimed, shaking her head. "I told you to stay away from him."
Elena burst into tears. Once started, she couldn't stop. She cried while Stella washed the blood from her back and dabbed arnica on the thorn scratches, wept as Stella slid a nightgown over her head and led her toward the bed.
"Hush, now," Stella urged, patting her shoulder. "Get into bed. You need to rest.”
Elena obediently climbed onto the bed and took the handkerchief Stella handed her. "I can't stay in this house," she said between sobs.
Stella sighed. "No, not after this. I knew there'd be trouble with Davis but I didn't think he'd go so far as to force you. He'll hate himself for it and the sight of you will make it worse. You can't stay here. Meg will have a fit but I'll promise her you'll come to her after she's married to Warren and in her own house. You will, won't you?"
Elena nodded. She couldn't desert Meg entirely; Meg needed her. She wasn’t quite sure what Stella meant by “force.” Yes, Davis had hurt her, but she didn’t think he’d finished what he’d started to do. Which had been terrible enough. Best to avoid men entirely after this.
"I know you give your aunt money to live on," Stella continued, "but all I can offer is a job at my cantina in El Doblez until the marriage takes place. Ricardo Gomez manages the cantina for me now that his father's dead--I'll talk to him if you like."
"Thank you," Elena said, drying her eyes. A cantina, she thought. Tia Francesca will have a heart attack at the idea. "It's kind of you to help me," she added. "I don't mind working in a cantina but please don't tell my aunt."
Stella smiled. "I understand how she feels. Don't worry, Ricardo will see to it the men won't bother you and you can room with his mother, Lucita. She's my good friend. As for Davis--possibly you'll never forgive him but try to remember how badly he wanted you. Because he thought you'd given yourself to Rory, he was driven by lust and jealousy, a bad combination. They're violent creatures, men, and there's little a woman can do to change them. Put Davis from your mind, sleep if you can, I'll see to Meg."
Erasing Davis from her mind was impossible with all the wounds from the thorns still smarting. She certainly never wanted to come anywhere near him again, but forgetting what he’d done to her wouldn’t be easy. Forgive him? Never! After fretful tossing and turning, Elena's final thought as she slid over the border into sleep was that maybe Ricardo Gomez would let her dance in the cantina.
* * *
In the two months Elena worked at the cantina, she learned more about the way men and woman behaved with each other than she had in all the rest of her years. Ricardo guarded her fiercely so she wasn't unduly troubled by crude advances. And he permitted her to dance every night once he saw she was talented enough to draw a crowd
List Price: $0.99
Description
A fast-moving, dramatic California saga about the people--Spanish, Anglo, Mexican and Indian who struggled, fought, made mistakes, loved and survived to build the foundations of the Golden State.* * *
Elena Gabaldon, shaking with dread, knew Davis Burwash walked behind her but she didn’t look back as, her nakedness covered by the black cape, she hurried toward the house. After what Davis had tried to do to her in the ruins, she certainly couldn’t remain in his house any longer. Despite Meg's need for her, she’d leave in the morning.
Elena slipped inside the front door as quietly as she could and crept up the front stairs, afraid a servant might see her if she used the back. She gained her room with a sigh of relief. After hiding the bundled shawl in a corner of her wardrobe, she poured water into the washbasin and dropped the cloak to the floor.
The door opened. Elena yelped, grabbing for the discarded cloak. She was partly relieved to find it was Stella, not Davis. Stella crossed to her and pulled aside the cloak, staring at her blood-smeared nakedness.
"Oh my God!" Stella exclaimed, shaking her head. "I told you to stay away from him."
Elena burst into tears. Once started, she couldn't stop. She cried while Stella washed the blood from her back and dabbed arnica on the thorn scratches, wept as Stella slid a nightgown over her head and led her toward the bed.
"Hush, now," Stella urged, patting her shoulder. "Get into bed. You need to rest.”
Elena obediently climbed onto the bed and took the handkerchief Stella handed her. "I can't stay in this house," she said between sobs.
Stella sighed. "No, not after this. I knew there'd be trouble with Davis but I didn't think he'd go so far as to force you. He'll hate himself for it and the sight of you will make it worse. You can't stay here. Meg will have a fit but I'll promise her you'll come to her after she's married to Warren and in her own house. You will, won't you?"
Elena nodded. She couldn't desert Meg entirely; Meg needed her. She wasn’t quite sure what Stella meant by “force.” Yes, Davis had hurt her, but she didn’t think he’d finished what he’d started to do. Which had been terrible enough. Best to avoid men entirely after this.
"I know you give your aunt money to live on," Stella continued, "but all I can offer is a job at my cantina in El Doblez until the marriage takes place. Ricardo Gomez manages the cantina for me now that his father's dead--I'll talk to him if you like."
"Thank you," Elena said, drying her eyes. A cantina, she thought. Tia Francesca will have a heart attack at the idea. "It's kind of you to help me," she added. "I don't mind working in a cantina but please don't tell my aunt."
Stella smiled. "I understand how she feels. Don't worry, Ricardo will see to it the men won't bother you and you can room with his mother, Lucita. She's my good friend. As for Davis--possibly you'll never forgive him but try to remember how badly he wanted you. Because he thought you'd given yourself to Rory, he was driven by lust and jealousy, a bad combination. They're violent creatures, men, and there's little a woman can do to change them. Put Davis from your mind, sleep if you can, I'll see to Meg."
Erasing Davis from her mind was impossible with all the wounds from the thorns still smarting. She certainly never wanted to come anywhere near him again, but forgetting what he’d done to her wouldn’t be easy. Forgive him? Never! After fretful tossing and turning, Elena's final thought as she slid over the border into sleep was that maybe Ricardo Gomez would let her dance in the cantina.
* * *
In the two months Elena worked at the cantina, she learned more about the way men and woman behaved with each other than she had in all the rest of her years. Ricardo guarded her fiercely so she wasn't unduly troubled by crude advances. And he permitted her to dance every night once he saw she was talented enough to draw a crowd
A fast-moving, dramatic California saga about the people--Spanish, Anglo, Mexican and Indian who struggled, fought, made mistakes, loved and survived to build the foundations of the Golden State.
* * *
Elena Gabaldon, shaking with dread, knew Davis Burwash walked behind her but she didn’t look back as, her nakedness covered by the black cape, she hurried toward the house. After what Davis had tried to do to her in the ruins, she certainly couldn’t remain in his house any longer. Despite Meg's need for her, she’d leave in the morning.
Elena slipped inside the front door as quietly as she could and crept up the front stairs, afraid a servant might see her if she used the back. She gained her room with a sigh of relief. After hiding the bundled shawl in a corner of her wardrobe, she poured water into the washbasin and dropped the cloak to the floor.
The door opened. Elena yelped, grabbing for the discarded cloak. She was partly relieved to find it was Stella, not Davis. Stella crossed to her and pulled aside the cloak, staring at her blood-smeared nakedness.
"Oh my God!" Stella exclaimed, shaking her head. "I told you to stay away from him."
Elena burst into tears. Once started, she couldn't stop. She cried while Stella washed the blood from her back and dabbed arnica on the thorn scratches, wept as Stella slid a nightgown over her head and led her toward the bed.
"Hush, now," Stella urged, patting her shoulder. "Get into bed. You need to rest.”
Elena obediently climbed onto the bed and took the handkerchief Stella handed her. "I can't stay in this house," she said between sobs.
Stella sighed. "No, not after this. I knew there'd be trouble with Davis but I didn't think he'd go so far as to force you. He'll hate himself for it and the sight of you will make it worse. You can't stay here. Meg will have a fit but I'll promise her you'll come to her after she's married to Warren and in her own house. You will, won't you?"
Elena nodded. She couldn't desert Meg entirely; Meg needed her. She wasn’t quite sure what Stella meant by “force.” Yes, Davis had hurt her, but she didn’t think he’d finished what he’d started to do. Which had been terrible enough. Best to avoid men entirely after this.
"I know you give your aunt money to live on," Stella continued, "but all I can offer is a job at my cantina in El Doblez until the marriage takes place. Ricardo Gomez manages the cantina for me now that his father's dead--I'll talk to him if you like."
"Thank you," Elena said, drying her eyes. A cantina, she thought. Tia Francesca will have a heart attack at the idea. "It's kind of you to help me," she added. "I don't mind working in a cantina but please don't tell my aunt."
Stella smiled. "I understand how she feels. Don't worry, Ricardo will see to it the men won't bother you and you can room with his mother, Lucita. She's my good friend. As for Davis--possibly you'll never forgive him but try to remember how badly he wanted you. Because he thought you'd given yourself to Rory, he was driven by lust and jealousy, a bad combination. They're violent creatures, men, and there's little a woman can do to change them. Put Davis from your mind, sleep if you can, I'll see to Meg."
Erasing Davis from her mind was impossible with all the wounds from the thorns still smarting. She certainly never wanted to come anywhere near him again, but forgetting what he’d done to her wouldn’t be easy. Forgive him? Never! After fretful tossing and turning, Elena's final thought as she slid over the border into sleep was that maybe Ricardo Gomez would let her dance in the cantina.
* * *
In the two months Elena worked at the cantina, she learned more about the way men and woman behaved with each other than she had in all the rest of her years. Ricardo guarded her fiercely so she wasn't unduly troubled by crude advances. And he permitted her to dance every night once he saw she was talented enough to draw a crowd
