• • • • • SUNDAY, APRIL 24 • • • • •

Chapter 8: A SHOCKING REVELATION

La Villa Cameron... A shaft of morning sun was insinuating its way through a minute gap in the draperies when Murdoch opened his eyes, annoyed that he'd slept this late but feeling markedly refreshed. A peek at his pocket watch on the bedside table revealed that it was already half past six... at home he would have long been washed, dressed, broken fast and been outside overseeing or participating in some ranch chore.

Murdoch swung his legs out of bed, feeling the usual aches and twinges in his gimpy hip and leg, and opened the door to the adjacent bathroom. Indoor plumbing was still a fairly new concept at Lancer—not quite as far along as flush toilets and hot water on demand but getting there slowly. They at least now had two rooms devoted to hygienic activities—one on the main floor and one upstairs where the bedrooms were—with hand pumps bringing in cold water from the well but hot water still having to be carried in from the kitchen reservoir by bucket and poured into the tubs. And while pipes carried gray water from the tubs away to the outside, the basins concealed under the commode chairs still had to be emptied by hand.

The Cameron residence boasted all the modern amenities—Murdoch made a mental note to request a tour of house systems later... including the plumbing arrangements and the boiler that dispensed hot water from a designated tap. His shaving kit had been neatly laid out on the small sinktop so he took care of that business second. Then he went in search of his clothes, which had been unpacked and pressed by an unseen hand and hung in the cedar clothes press while he'd been at dinner last night.

Stepping out into the corridor, Murdoch followed his nose to the unoccupied dining room and from there to the kitchen, where he found the cook and a younger assistant engaged in breakfast preparations. Amanda—Mrs. Curtis, it turned out—smiled as he entered, as did the two small brown children, obviously brother and sister, and a young man seated at the kitchen table who immediately arose in deference.

"Good morning... I do hope I haven't kept anyone waiting," Murdoch said pleasantly.

"Not at all, Mister Lancer. Mrs. Cameron customarily enjoys breakfast in bed and Curtis is assisting Mister Cameron in his morning routine—somewhat of a lengthy process as you can imagine. If you would care to be seated in the dining room, I'll be serving your breakfast momentarily."

"If you don't mind, Mrs. Curtis," Murdoch gestured at the table, "I would just as soon eat in here, as I do at home." Without waiting for a response, he seated himself across from the children. The other woman immediately set out a plate and cutlery. Amanda brought an oversize china mug to the table and poured coffee.

"Call me 'Amanda'... please. Children... this is Mister Lancer, a very old friend of Mister Cameron's come to visit. Mister Lancer... as you may have already surmised, this is my son Charles Cicero Curtis, Jr.—he goes by Chuck, his wife Ernestine and their twins Paolo and Petra."

"Very pleased to meet all of you." Murdoch nodded in approval, a firm believer in keeping his workers' families together by providing, when possible, employment for all.

Breakfast was served family-style as well, Amanda and Tina seating themselves after placing bowls and platters on the table. Although different from the spicier Mexican viands Maria Elena served at home, it was all hot and delicious and Murdoch consumed more than he usually did. At the conclusion, Chuck excused himself to take the children to school. Amanda suggested to Murdoch that he might wish to walk off the heavy meal, or—if he so desired—go for a short hack. It would be at least an hour or so before Mister Cameron presented himself.

"If you go through this door through the kitchen garden, you'll see the community stables shared by all five families on Huntington Circle... one of the boys there will show you which horses belong to the Camerons. I'd recommend Emperador... Chuck rides him now that Mister Cameron no longer can, but he requires a firm hand."

Murdoch thanked her for the fine meal and the advice and headed out the kitchen garden door. Emperador proved to be a magnificent grey stallion that the boy saddling him (with some difficulty) confirmed was a Puerto Rican Paso Fino from the Crown Montero Ranch... as spirited as Amanda promised but with the smoothest gaits of any horse Murdoch had ever ridden. He'd meant to be gone only an hour but was so enjoying the ride that a second hour passed without notice.

What on earth had the man been thinking... acquiring a hot-blooded horse, and a stallion to boot, just to ride around the city? Trey had never been a confident horseman and this one was far too much horse for a city boy. Emperador didn't belong in a suburban stable with limited pasturage—he should be on a ranch with acres to run his heart out and high-quality mares to cover. By the time they'd reached the bottom of the canyon road and turned around to go back up again, Murdoch had made up his mind to make Trey an offer.

Back at the stables, the rancher turned his mount over to one of the grooms and made his way back to the house through the kitchen garden to find that Trey had breakfasted in the meanwhile and was waiting for him in the greatroom along with Luisa. After a hasty wash up, Murdoch went to join them, and to learn... at last... the purpose of his presence.

In the greatroom, Trey and Luisa were seated at a plain rectangular golden oak table that had been specially constructed a few inches higher than standard to allow for the arms of the wheelchair to fit underneath. A forbidding-looking blue legal folder was at Trey's right elbow. Luisa Regina had brought in a bit of tatting to occupy her hands. Murdoch slid into the third chair while right behind him Tina glided in with a silver coffee service on a tray. Luisa dismissed the young woman, stating she would serve. Tina gave a slight bow and retreated to the corridor, gently closing the double doors behind her.

Murdoch exchanged greetings with his friends, but as neither looked particularly jocular this morning, he glanced at the legal documents.

"Should I be nervous?" he asked gently.

Trey shrugged. "I have no idea how you're going to react, Murdo, to the story I'm about to tell you. But I'm pretty sure that at least some of the time you're not going to be happy about it... or with me or with my lady wife. Before I say anything, though, let me offer the excuse that attorney-client confidentiality is the only thing that's prevented me from telling you what you've had a right to know for almost twenty years."

"And that confidentiality no longer applies because...?"

"Because the client is deceased and one of the codicils of the last will and testament is full disclosure of the truth to you—Murdoch Alexander Lancer."

"The client being... ?"

"Let's start at the beginning... I want you to think back nineteen years, Murdo... where you were and what you were doing the summer of 1851..."

"That's a tall order, Trey... a lot's happened since then..."

"Let me give some clues, then... it'd been a year since Maria disappeared with your two-year-old son. You'd just returned from Boston and a futile attempt to regain custody of your other son, on his fifth birthday. You were despondent, ready to give up on everything..."

"I went to Sacramento to drown my sorrows. You and Paul made me sober up and face up to my responsibilities as I tried to put my life back together again..." Murdoch continued thoughtfully. "I stayed with you and Luisa for a while... at the same time Luisa's cousin Pilar was a house guest. Is that what this is all about, Trey?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I haven't thought of her in years... haven't wanted to. After she left, I determined to put her and everything else behind me... the ranch became my whole world again and stayed that way until..."

"A year ago... when your troubles prompted you to reach out to Scott and John..." Trey said.

"But why would Pilar... I mean, I never heard from her again... I'm afraid I don't recall all the details..."

"That's because Pilar wasn't entirely truthful about details," Luisa interjected with a deep sigh. "She in fact lied about a great many things. I'm about to divulge a family secret here, Murdo... although I suspect that skeleton fell out of the closet a long time ago!

Our common grandfather was Cuban creole—Alonzo del Marín, Marqués de la Bahía Azul. The del Maríns originated in the Galicia region of Spain. They were fair-haired and light-skinned. The older son, Julián, was my father. The younger son, my uncle Joaquin, hadn't yet married. Then there was my aunt Claudia Rosalba... very much younger than the boys—blonde and green-eyed and the real beauty in the family. But headstrong and ungovernable.

Claudia got herself pregnant by a cimarróne—a half-African half-Taíno boy who worked in the gardens of the estate. Grandfather had the young man beheaded and packed Claudia off to a convent in Puerto Rico, where she died in childbirth. It was given out that the baby girl, named Pilar, was Joaquin's natural child by his Taíno mistress, and she was raised by the del Maríns as a daughter of the house. Fortunately Pilar had very light skin and her beauty exceeded even her mother's, which is very often the case with children of ethnic diversity. In time they arranged an advantageous match with a rich older planter who either didn't know or didn't care that Pilar was quadroon. That was the first marriage—the one she concealed from you—from which she'd run away. We couldn't tell you because she came to us so that Trey could handle the divorce."

"The first marriage..." Murdoch repeated thoughtfully. "So she did marry again... after she left me... as she said she would?"

"Oh yes... that was the plan all along, evidently."

"When did she die?"

"Six months ago."

Trey cleared this throat. "I imagine you're wondering what Pilar might have bequeathed to you in her will... and the answer is, nothing. You are not specifically mentioned at all..."

"Then why...?"

"What Pilar didn't know when she left you was that she was with child." The sentence lay on the table between them like an unexploded bombshell as the rancher stared at the lawyer in utter bewilderment.

"You mean... she was already pregnant when I... when we...?"

"No, Murdo... she got that way while you were together... right in the middle of those twelve weeks."

"But... that's impossible..." Murdoch sputtered. "How...?"

Luisa spoke up primly. "I'm reasonably sure, Murdoch, you're aware of how babies happen."

Murdoch blushed furiously. "Of course I understand... but... shouldn't she... why didn't she tell me?"

"Of course she should have told you... and might have, had she known... but she didn't realize it until another month had passed. The divorce was about to be finalized. Her fiance—if you want to call him that—was already waiting in the wings..." Luisa sniffed disdainfully. "She felt that bringing you back into her life would muddy the waters unnecessarily and delay her plans."

Murdoch looked from one to the other. "So you've known this all along...?" He got up and strode angrily to the picture windows, looking out at white sails tacking the white-capped harbor far below.

"We wanted to tell you, believe me, Murdo..." Trey called after him. "But couldn't... she forebade us. I was the one handling her divorce and have been the family's attorney of record ever since... until James took over. But even then I still couldn't divulge what I knew. I had hoped you'd understand that. I couldn't betray confidentiality any more than if I were her priest."

Minutes passed during which Murdoch kept his back to the couple at the table. A few times Trey opened his mouth to say something and Luisa caught his eye, nodding negatively. He understood without being told what she was attempting to convey to him—that the reality of having fathered a third son was still puddling on the surface, refusing to soak into Murdoch Lancer's thick head. And he didn't even know, as yet, that it was a son. That would probably be his first question once he accepted the fact of a child... if he accepted it.

When Murdoch had collected himself he returned to the table, folding his hands and focusing on something across the room, not looking at either one of them. "Boy or girl?"

"Boy," Trey answered.

"How can I be sure it's mine?" Murdoch asked bluntly. "Are you sure?"

"Ninety-five percent sure, yes," Trey stated.

"He, Murdo... not it," Luisa corrected. "And I'm one hundred percent sure! Pilar and I discussed it. She was with no other man during the... ah... crucial period. The baby was healthy and full-term, born nine months to the day from the end of your fourth week together. Think about it, Murdoch... were either of you out of the other's sight during all that time?"

Murdoch shook his head. "No. No, we weren't. There were no opportunities for her to... be with someone else. But... what proof...?"

Trey cleared his throat. "At the risk of giving offense, Murdo... and with all due respect... what proof do you have that John is actually your son? Aside from Maria's claiming he was... does he look like you at all?"

Luisa tutted. "Trey Cameron... what an awful thing to say!"

Murdoch reddened but couldn't deny the elephant in the room. Everyone knew he'd met the girl in a bordertown cantina where she danced for a living... and most likely augmented her income with other services.

"I take your point," Murdoch replied stiffly. "So... this boy... he'd be... what?... eighteen now?"

"Nineteen on April first."

"What's his name?"

"He goes by 'Jody'—Jordáno Miguel Montero y Marín. But in the parish records he's recorded as 'Jordan Marin Lancer'. Lulu and I are his godparents."

"May I ask what happened to Pilar?"

"She succumbed to puerperal fever three days after giving birth to a stillborn baby. We were given to understand she had a heart condition as well," Luisa responded in such a fashion that radiated her disbelief. Murdoch made a mental note to question this later.

"I see." Another long minute of silence stretched interminably.

"The name Montero seems familiar..."

"It should. You know Don Eduardo Montero, I believe?"

Murdoch gave Trey a startled look. "Ed Montero? Crown Montero Stud? Chula Vista?"

"That's the one."

"Sure, I know Montero... bought some horses from him four years ago. We went on a tear down in Tijuana... that's when I got the tip on Johnny's whereabouts. Can't say I care much for the man but I do know him... she married him?"

"Yup."

"And he adopted Pilar's... our... son?"

"Well, not officially, but the boy's always gone by his name. There are three other children... daughters."

Murdoch took a few minutes to contemplate this. In the meantime, Luisa and Trey both were on tenterhooks—would he or wouldn't he acknowledge paternity?

"Does the boy know he's not Montero's biological son? Does he know about... me?"

"He knows about you now," Luisa said, making a long face. "He's always known Ed wasn't his real father, but Pilar never revealed who was... until she knew she was dying. She didn't want to face her Maker with the sin of omission on her conscience."

"How did he take it?"

"We're not really sure," Trey ventured uneasily. "He's not much on sharing his thoughts."

A personality trait he shares with Johnny—never let them see you sweat...

"Does Montero know I'm the boy's father?"

"He claims she'd never told him, either. But of course he also knows now."

Murdoch turned unexpectedly harsh. "Why would someone like Eduardo Montero want to marry a woman carrying another man's bastard?"

Trey shrugged. "It was a shipboard romance that got out of hand... he was obsessed with her—as you were. I'll get to that in a minute..."

Luisa jumped in with a dry chuckle. "Exactly as Trey and I met... except we were both returning from our European 'Grand Tours', not running from unhappy marriages! Pilar and I had kept up regular correspondence after we'd both married and Trey brought me to California. I sympathized with her plight and agreed to help her escape. Trey agreed to serve as her attorney. She knew ahead of time that it would take a year to establish residency in order to file for divorce. Also that it might prove impossible to obtain an annulment from the Church.

What we did not know after she arrived... what she so carefully concealed from us... was the existence of this man whom she'd met on the boat from Havana to Colón. He'd been in Puerto Rico buying paso finos... had a dozen in the hold. He was bringing them across the isthmus by rail to Panamá, then up the coast by steamer to San Diego. Evidently they schemed that while she cooled her heels with us he would remain below the horizon in Chula Vista until the formalities were concluded and he could come collect her. Let me reiterate, Murdoch, that Trey and I were completely in the dark about this man."

Trey took up the tale. "She'd been with us several months when you came along. The proceedings were taking longer than I'd anticipated. As the two of you were both in need of divertissement, we saw no harm in encouraging you to spend time together..."

"Please believe us, Murdoch," Luisa entreated, "We had absolutely no idea you'd turn so serious so quickly... or that Pilar was simply indulging in a fling to pass the time. She certainly wasn't expecting the complication of pregnancy."

"Neither was I," Murdoch said. "So what happened then?"

"If you recall," Trey said, "we relocated to San Francisco during the two months she stayed with you on your ranch. We didn't hear from you for a long time afterwards and assumed you were blaming us for the fiasco, so you didn't know we'd arranged a place for her live—not with us—until the baby came. During that time Ed was away for six months on a business trip to South America. They wrote to each other but she kept the pregnancy secret, intending to give the baby up for adoption and never telling him about it. Then she changed her mind. The baby and the divorce decree arrived at the same time, and Montero a month later. He was furious, of course... but he wanted her badly enough to agree to keeping the child, so they married."

"He reasoned that if she'd had one boy she'd soon enough produce another for him. He was desperate for an heir," Luisa cut in. "But then they had the three girls and miscarriages after that, one after another until the one that killed her."

"Wasn't she a little old for... er... having babies?"

"Forty-three... and yes, she shouldn't have. Ed Montero was advised by the family physician not to endanger her health and life that way... but... he wouldn't listen. You know... a husband's rights and all that..."

Luisa gave her husband the evil eye before pouring another round of coffees. The three busied themselves with cream and sugar for another few minutes.

"If you were in my position, Trey, what would you do?"

"Well, I suppose I'd want to meet the boy."

"But does he want to meet me... us?" Murdoch asked, then without waiting for Trey to comment, "Can you bring him here?"

Luisa and Trey both breathed silent breaths of relief. It seemed their old friend was preparing himself to accept fatherhood of this as yet unknown child.

"Well, Murdo... unfortunately, there's a small problem with that..."

Luisa cut in briskly. "Murdoch, Trey needs to rest for a bit. Can we continue this discussion this afternoon... after lunch?"

"By all means, Luisa. I could use some private time to think this through."

"Very well. Lunch will be served at two... on the patio, weather permitting."

"I'll be there."