Tender Triumph Read online

  "Do you have any idea, senorita, how much strength and courage it takes for a man to return to his birthplace, not as a success, but as a failure? Do you realize what it does to his pride when he must face people who all believed he had left them and achieved success—and who will now see that he has come back defeated?"

  "I don't think Ramon feels defeated or dis­graced," Katie protested.

  Padre Gregorio's hand hit the desk with a crash. "No, he was not disgraced—but he is going to be, thanks to you! Thanks to you, everyone in this village is going to be saying that his rich novia from the United States had to pay for the towels so he could wipe his hands!"

  "No one knows that I've been paying for half of everything!" Katie burst out. "Except you, and— no one," she amended quickly, protecting Gabriella.

  "No one, except you and I," he mocked scathing­ly. "And Gabriella Alverez, of course. And half the village who are this minute gossiping about it to the other half! Do I make myself clear?"

  Miserably, Katie nodded.

  "Gabriella has obviously kept it secret from Eduardo, or he would have told Ramon. You have forced her to deceive her own husband for you!"

  Apprehensively, Katie watched him trying to get control of his temper. "Senorita Connelly, is there the remotest, the slightest possibility that you thought Ramon would not object to what you are doing?"

  More than anything, Katie longed to snatch at this excuse, but her pride prevented her from cowering. "No, I had mentioned to Ramon that I wanted to share the cost of things, and he—he wasn't pleased with the idea." She saw the priest's eyes narrow. "All right, he was adamantly opposed to it."

  "So," he said in an awful voice. "Ramon told you not to, but you did it anyway, only slyly, is that it? You disobeyed him"

  Katie's temper flared. "Do not use the word dis­obey to me, Padre. I am not a trained dog. Second­ly, I would like to remind you that I have been 'slyly' spending a great deal of my money for Ramon which I think comes under the heading of charity, and is hardly a crime.

  "Charity!" he exploded furiously. "Is that what Ramon is to you—a charity case, an object of pity?"

  "No! Of course not!" Katie's eyes were huge with genuine horror.

  "If you are paying for half of everything, then you are spending twice what he can afford. Are you so spoiled that you must have exactly what you want right now, this minute?"

  Compared to this, Katie thought the Spanish In­quisition must have been a breeze. She couldn't avoid his question, and she certainly couldn't tell him she'd paid for half of everything so she wouldn't feel obligated to marry Ramon.

  "I am waiting for an answer."

  "And I would like to give you one," miserably. "Only I can't. I didn't do it for any of the reasons you think. It's too hard to explain."

  "It is even harder to understand. In fact, senorita, I do not understand you. Gabriella is your friend, yet you do not hesitate to involve her in your treachery. You are staying under Eduardo's roof, yet you feel no remorse for repaying his hospitality by forcing his wife to mislead him. You want to marry Ramon, yet you disobey him, deceive him and disgrace him. How can you do that to someone you love?"

  The color began draining out of Katie's face and Padre Gregorio, noting her stricken expression, shook his head in frustration. When he spoke again his voice was strained, but gentler. "Senorita, despite everything, I cannot believe that you are either selfish or heartless. You must have had some good reason for doing what you have; tell me so that I can understand."

  Speechless with misery, Katie could only look at him.

  "Tell me!" he said, his face angry and be­wildered. "Tell me that you love Ramon, and that you did not realize the village would gossip. I would believe that; I would even help you explain it to Ramon. Just say that, and we will finish mak­ing the arrangements for your marriage right now."

  Katie's stomach was cramping painfully, but her pale face was composed. "I don't owe you any explanations, padre. And I will not discuss my feelings about Ramon with you, either."

  His bushy white eyebrows knitted together into a thunderous scowl. Leaning back in his chair, he sub­jected Katie to a long penetrating stare. "You will not speak of your feelings for Ramon, because you have no feelings for him Is that it?"

  "I didn't say that!" Katie denied, but the con­vulsive clenching of her hands in her lap betrayed her inner turmoil.

  "Can you say you love him?"

  Katie felt as if she were being torn to pieces by raging emotions she could neither understand nor control. She tried to say the words he was waiting to hear, to give him the assurance he had a right to expect, but she could not. All she could do was look at him in frozen silence.

  Padre Gregorio's shoulders drooped. When he spoke, the terrible despair in his voice made her feel like bursting into tears. "I see," he said quietly. "Feeling as you do, what kind of wife could you possibly be to Ramon?"

  "A good one!" Katie whispered fiercely.

  The intensity of her emotion seemed to stun him. He stared at her again, as if he were truly trying to understand her. His gaze moved over her pale face, searching her blue eyes and discovering something in their agonized depths that brought a puzzled gentleness to his voice. "Very well," he said softly. "I will accept that."

  This astonishing announcement had an equally astonishing effect on Katie, who suddenly began to shake from head to toe with an unexplainable mix­ture of relief and alarm.

  "If you tell me that you are prepared to fulfill your duties as Ramon's wife, I will believe you. Are you willing to put his needs before your own, to honor and respect his—"

  "Authority?" Katie provided tersely. "Don't forget 'obey' him," she added mutinously as she stood up. "Isn't that what you were going to ask?"

  Padre Gregorio also arose. "Suppose that I was?" he queried in a tone of cool curiosity. "What would you say?"

  "Exactly what any other woman with a brain, a mouth and a backbone should say to such an outrageous insulting suggestion! I will not, will not promise obedience to any man. Animals and chil­dren obey, not women!" "Are you quite through, senorita?" Katie swallowed and nodded firmly. "Then allow me to tell you that I was not going to mention the word 'obey.' I was about to ask you if you were willing to respect Ramon's wishes, not his authority. And for your information, I would have asked Ramon for exactly the same commitments I asked you to make."

  Katie's lashes shadowed her pale cheeks, hiding her acute embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "I thought—"

  "There is no need to apologize," Padre Gregorio sighed wearily. He turned and walked over to the window that looked out on the little square and the church. "And you will not need to come back here again," he added without looking at her. "I will let Ramon know what I have decided."

  "Which is?" Katie managed. His jaw was set as he shook his head.

  "I want to think about it quietly for a while before I decide anything."

  Katie ran her hand through her hair. "Padre Gregorio, you can't prevent us from being married. If you don't marry us, someone else will."

  His back stiffened. Turning slowly, he gave her a look that was both angry and amused. "Thank you for reminding me of my limitations, senorita. I would have been very disappointed in you if you had not found some new way to antagonize me just before you leave, so that I will have the worst possible opinion of you."

  Katie looked at him in frustrated fury. "You are the most self-important, self-righteous—!" She drew a long, deliberate breath, trying to steady her­self. "I don't happen to care what your opinion of me is."

  Padre Gregorio inclined his head in an exag­gerated bow. "Thank you again."

  Katie pulled up a handful of grass and irritably flung it away. She was sitting on a large flat rock, her back supported against a tree, looking blindly out across three miles of gently rolling hills and valleys. The sun was setting in streaks of red and gold, but the view hadn't soothed her temper after this morning's meeting with Padre Gregorio. N