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  “You still looking for the Banderas family?” The man asked nervously, looking back and forth.

  “Yes.”

  “You willing to pay?”

  Noah paused. “I am.”

  “Can I come in? I don’t want anyone to see us.”

  Noah stepped back and the man entered.

  “You know Pilar Banderas?”

  He nodded. “She lives on a farm outside the city. No one said anything down at the docks because she’s tied to the rebels, just like everyone else here.”

  Noah understood now. “How much do you want for your assistance?”

  The sum he quoted was a pittance in the scheme of things, but to a man as poor as he undoubtedly was it was large. “I’ll pay you when we reach the farm.”

  “Sure. We should go at first light. Before everyone gets up. I don’t want our business known.”

  Noah agreed.

  He came for Noah at dawn. They journeyed on his listing wagon pulled by an old horse out of the city and into the mountainous region that surrounded it. “Cimarrons lived out here in the old days,” the man informed him by way of conversation. Noah knew the word referred to fugitive slaves. “They and their descendants have been in these mountains for hundreds of years. This is the area where General Maceo recruited many of the Mambis.”

  They drove for a short while longer and the man, who’d never volunteered his name, steered the old horse onto a property set back a ways from the road. The weathered home was in serious disrepair, as was its accompanying barn. It was eerily silent. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s here,” his guide remarked.

  Noah agreed, but got down anyway and stepped up onto the porch. Mindful of the many missing slats, he made his way to the door and knocked. No one answered. He repeated the action a few more times with the same results. He left the porch and walked around to the back. There were a few broken-down animal pens but they held no occupants. He spotted a well-tended garden set a few yards away, but there were no signs of life on the property anywhere. Sighing with frustration, he returned to the wagon. “Does she have relatives?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know where they live.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “I grew up here.”

  Noah passed him the money he was owed. “Take me back to the city.”

  Back in his hotel room, Noah wanted to punch something. Instead he packed. He’d leave for Florida in the morning. He wanted to meet with his old friend Miguel Ventura about his brothers’ interest in investing in the tobacco company and once that was done, he’d figure out what to do next about the missing Pilar Banderas.

  Chapter 8

  Pilar glanced around the bedroom she and her sister were sharing. It was by all accounts a beautiful room. The bedding and draperies were made of fine fabrics and there was a soft carpet on the floor. The elegantly furnished home owned by her Uncle Miguel Ventura and his family was a castle compared to the humble Banderas abode back in Cuba. They’d been visiting almost two weeks now, and Pilar was ready to return home. Her sister adored the new surroundings and found everything, from the luxurious bath equipped with its inside water to the fine dishes on the tables at mealtime, to the elegant gardens packed with sweet-smelling blooms, much to her liking. When their mother took them shopping for new clothes, the first new things they’d owned since their father’s death, Doneta cried. Pilar, more comfortable in the thin cotton trousers and plain shirtlike blouse of her homeland, tried to convince her mother that a ball gown for the birthday rumba wasn’t necessary, but that fell on deaf ears and she was forced to try on what seemed like an endless stream of gowns until a choice was made—a long, full-skirted one that was mint green in color. The thin straps were anchored to the bodice with a delicate rosette.

  “What are you doing up here, Pilar? You’re supposed to be downstairs with the dance master.”

  “I already know how to dance, Tia Simona.”

  “No you don’t. When the dancing begins at the party, it won’t be those indecent country dances you’re used to back home. This will be waltzing and you need to learn.”

  Simona was Tio Miguel’s wife—a plain-faced shrew of a woman. From the moment the Banderases entered her home, she’d made plain her dislike. Pilar’s mother said part of the reason had to do with them being poor—apparently Simona came from an extremely wealthy family who didn’t tolerate those who weren’t, and the other part had to do with Simona’s two daughters, Mari and Anya. She and Tio Miguel were having difficulty finding husbands for their daughters, who closely resembled their mother, and Simona was concerned that having Pilar and the ravishing Doneta under her roof would only make the quest more difficult. “Have you seen my mother?”

  “She’s out with my husband. They’re looking at property. She’s thinking of settling here permanently.”

  Pilar froze.

  “Now, downstairs with you.”

  Stunned, Pilar did as she was told.

  After dinner, as Pilar, Doneta, and their mother sat outside on the verandah, Pilar asked about the property. “Are you really thinking of staying in America?”

  “Yes, Pilar, I am. I want a fresh start in life and this seems the perfect time.”

  “But what about our home?”

  “We’ll make a new home, Pilar. We’ve struggled and done without for so long. My brother let me know that my parents left me a sizeable sum of money in their will—out of guilt or love, we aren’t certain, but it’s more than enough for us to live comfortably as long as we stay within our means.”

  “Then why can’t we take that money back to Cuba?”

  “Because Miguel has the funds in an American bank. I don’t want to take it back and have Spain whittle it away with their taxes and assessments until there’s nothing left.”

  Pilar mulled that over while taking in the beauty of the gardens. “And if I choose to return?”

  “You are old enough to make your own way, Pilar. I’ll not stand in your way.”

  Pilar tried to imagine life without her mother and sister because she knew without asking that Doneta would be content to stay. She glanced between the two women who held her heart. “I’ll let you know after the party.”

  “That’s fine,” her mother replied softly.

  Lying in bed in the dark, Pilar knew her sister was awake. “Would you really prefer to live here, ’Neta?”

  “I would. I’m tired of having to work so hard for so little reward. Maybe once the country changes, things for people like us will be better, but right now . . . I know you probably think I’m flighty to be impressed by the way our uncle lives, but to have a full belly each night before I sleep, to not have to get up each morning and wear the same clothes. Do you realize we’ve never had anything new since Papa died? Mama has been doing the best she can to provide for us and we’ve both worked hard to help her, but for once, I’d like to paint something that I can keep or spend a portion of the day reading instead of trying to come up with yet another way to cheat someone just so we can eat.”

  Pilar let those words sink in.

  “And as I said the other day, maybe I can find someone who will love me. I know you don’t care about such things, Pilar, but I do.”

  She was right, Pilar didn’t care about love but didn’t begrudge her sister the pursuit of it.

  Doneta said, “I do wish you’d consider staying, too. What would I do without you? Who would I confide in or roll my eyes with?”

  Pilar smiled. “This new husband you’re seeking.”

  “Husbands don’t roll their eyes—or at least I don’t think so. The point is. We’ve been breathing for each other since the day I was born. I don’t want a life that doesn’t include you.”

  “Are you trying to guilt me into staying, Doneta?”

  “No, Pilar, but I am speaking from my heart.”

  Pilar got out of bed and walked over to her bed and sat on the edge. “Whatever decision I make, I’ll tell you first.”

  They embraced.
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  “You promise,” Doneta whispered holding on tightly.

  Her love for her sister and the idea of losing her put tears in her eyes. “Yes, I promise.”

  Pilar and Doneta enjoyed the company of their cousins, in spite of their sour mother. They’d helped Pilar and Doneta learn the layout of the house, talked with them about the joys of living in Florida and did their best to relieve the stings of some their mother’s barbs. They were not as beautiful as their Bandera cousins but both were smart, kind, and had a great sense of humor. On the night of the ball the four young women got dressed together in Mari’s bedroom, which was the size of their house back home. She was three years older than her sister and a year old than Doneta.

  “You both look so lovely,” she said to Pilar and Doneta.

  Anya said, “Mama’s going to have a fit.”

  Mari cracked, “Then she’s going to parade us around like prize heifers hoping someone will make a bid.”

  They all giggled but swallowed their laughter quickly when Simona walked into the room. “Are you ready?”

  Desa walked in behind her and Pilar almost didn’t recognize her, she was so beautiful. Pilar considered Doneta to be the prettiest of the Bandera sisters but even she paled in comparison to their mother in her striking emerald gown. Her hair was up and her face bore just the faintest application of paint. Simona, in a dress far too snug with far too many drapings for her ample figure, couldn’t hold a candle to her sister-in-law.

  Simona looked at her daughters. “You both look gorgeous.”

  And Pilar agreed.

  “But the two of you,” she declared to Pilar and Doneta, “pull up those necklines so you won’t be mistaken for strumpets.”

  “Excuse me!” Desa snapped.

  Simona’s lips tightened. “Just remember, Mari and Anya are the ones seeking husbands, not your two.”

  And she swept from the room.

  Anya turned to Pilar and Doneta. “I’m sorry.”

  Pilar patted her arm. “It’s all right.”

  Desa added. “No apologies needed. We all look absolutely beautiful, so let’s go down and see how many men we can bring to their knees.”

  Laughing, they left the room and as they did, Desa said quietly to Pilar and Doneta, “Remember, we are here from Santo Domingo. We’ve no idea who might be in attendance.”

  They nodded.

  Pilar was very uncomfortable in her beautiful new gown because she’d never worn anything with a neckline that bared her throat and shoulders and skimmed the tops of her breasts before. Even though it was tastefully designed, she kept wanting to drag the bodice up around her chin. The short heels on her shoes made striding the way she was accustomed to much more difficult than when wearing her army boots or rope sandals but she kept smiling as she wove her way through the party. Doneta was across the room surrounded by a bevy of men buzzing around her like bees at a flower. She appeared to be enjoying the attention and Pilar was happy for her. None of the young men appeared to be showing any interest in their cousins Mari and Anya and Tia Simona was undoubtedly furious, but Doneta couldn’t change her facial features any more than the plain faced Ventura girls could theirs. It was a grand affair though, with food and desserts and a small band of musicians. Whenever her uncle or mother brought someone over for her to meet, she forced herself to smile and be pleasant, but she dearly wished to be elsewhere, preferably back at home. Her mother appeared to be happy though, and Pilar supposed her personal discomfort meant nothing in comparison. She hadn’t seen her mother sparkle so since before their father’s death.

  All the doors and windows of the grand home were open to let in the evening breeze, but with the press of bodies the room was still very warm, so she made her way to the refreshments table to get an ice with the hope it might cool her off. As she glanced towards the archway where newly arrived guests were entering, she froze and her eyes widened at the sight of Noah Yates! Her heart pounded and it took all she had not to succumb to the weakness in her knees. She quickly turned her back and slipped into the cover of the mob by the table. As she took the cup of punch from the servant, her hand shook so badly it was necessary to take in a deep calming breath to keep the liquid from splashing over the rim and onto her gown. What was he doing at her uncle’s birthday party! Hazarding a quick look back, she watched him being approached by her smiling uncle. In his dark evening clothes, Yates looked even more striking than she remembered and more than a few ladies openly stared with unveiled interest. She glanced over at her sister. The look on her face must’ve shown her distress because Doneta smiled politely at her circle of admirers and made her way to Pilar’s side. “What’s wrong?”

  “Come out onto the verandah with me for a moment.”

  Outside, there were a few people enjoying conversation and being away from the noise and heat, so she led her sister to a spot that was unoccupied.

  Concern on her face and in her voice, Doneta said, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Close. Noah Yates just arrived.”

  Doneta’s jaw dropped. “The man who owned the boat you stole?”

  Pilar nodded.

  Doneta spun her eyes back to the gathering as if needing to see him before settling her attention on Pilar once more. “What in the world is he doing here?”

  “I don’t know but I almost fainted when he walked into the room.”

  Doneta studied the worry on Pilar’s face and then smiled. “It’s okay though. Weren’t you disguised?”

  “I was.”

  “Then he can’t put two and two together and come up with you. Can he?”

  Pilar mulled that over for a moment and exhaled with relief. “You’re right. He can’t. Oh thank you for helping me think this through.”

  “If he approaches, all you need do is act as if you’ve never met. Simple.”

  To Pilar it sounded very simple, but there was a nagging something inside that left her still wary. She had been well disguised that night, she reminded herself.

  Doneta asked, “Better?”

  “Much.”

  “May I go back to my swains now?”

  Pilar chuckled, “Yes, you may.”

  “Good, because I’m having a marvelous time and some of them are very handsome.”

  “Make sure the one you settle on is wealthy.”

  “Of course,” she said over a laugh. “You stay vigilant. Yates can’t possibly recognize you, but come and point him out so we can both keep an eye on him.”

  They walked back inside and there he stood, still engaged with her uncle. “That’s him.”

  Doneta said, “Oh my. He’s very handsome. The scar makes him look deliciously wicked and dangerous.”

  Confused, Pilar turned. “What?”

  “He looks like I picture some of the men in the romantic novels Mama and I read.”

  Pilar had no idea what she was talking about and decided she was better off not knowing. “You go back to your bees, and I’ll try and stay out of his sight.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  Pilar watched him bowing over the hand of her near swooning cousin Mari, and prayed Doneta was right.

  Noah wondered why he’d agreed to attend this madness. Due to the crush, he could barely raise an arm to avail himself of the wine being offered by the slow-moving fleet of tray-bearing servants. It appeared as if every person of Spanish extraction in Florida was in attendance. He’d accepted the invitation because of his friendship with Miguel. They’d first met on the streets of Key West, where Miguel was selling his cigars from a stall on the streets. Noah and King found the cigars so much to their liking they asked if they could sell them to some of the shopkeepers they did business with in Texas, New Orleans, and overseas in places like London and Spain. Miguel agreed and the rest as they say was history. The cigars sold so well, Miguel was forced to increase production and with the financial assistance of Noah and King, a warehouse was purchased and additional workers hired. Ventura was an outstanding busine
ssman and one of the nicest men Noah knew. In truth, Noah was honored to be invited. Not finding the Banderas woman in Santiago still left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he reminded himself of Drew’s advice to have some fun, so this would serve as a distraction. Tomorrow he’d meet with Miguel about the business, and then plan his next move against the pirate. At the moment though, he had none. Where had she gone? Had Gordonez somehow tipped her off that he was closing in? Noah had no way of knowing.

  “Noah Yates. I want you to meet my sister, Desa Banderas.”

  Upon hearing her surname, Noah froze.

  Miguel added, “Desa is visiting from Santo Domingo.”

  He bowed over her hand. “My pleasure, senora. Are you kin to the Banderases of Santiago, Cuba?”

  “No.”

  He noticed the slight tremor in her hand and the hint of unease in her gaze. Scenting prey, the tiger inside Noah smiled.

  Miguel said to her, “Noah is one of my business partners. We’ve been friends for years.”

  “Have we met before?” he asked innocently.

  “No,” she replied again, adding a hasty shake of denial. He saw no evidence of the telltale scar on the back of her hand, but he found her reaction to him interesting. Was she really from Santo Domingo?

  “Did you come to Florida alone, senora?” he asked.

  Miguel responded, “No, she’s here with her lovely daughters, Doneta and Pilar.”

  Noah kept his features schooled. Of course there were undoubtedly more than one Pilar Banderas in the world and what were the odds that the daughter would be the one he’d been seeking, but something inside told him she was. Finally! The mother watched him closely. He smoothly turned back to Ventura. “If they’re as lovely as their mother, I’d be honored to meet them whenever you find the time.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. He sensed she was uncertain as to whether he was a threat or not and he planned to keep that uncertainty intact for the moment. He bowed to her with all the grace he’d learned from his own mother. “I hope you and your daughters enjoy your visit.”

  “Thank you.”

  His elation masked, he left them and moved into the crowd to get something to eat. Drew was correct. Having fun was fun.