San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) (14 page)

She shrugged. "There is not much to tell. I
am hungry now."

He stood up and laughed as he reached for
the saddlebags. "I wouldn't want you to be hungry. It might set off your temper," he said with
irony.

"I admit that I have a temper," she said.
"Josifina usually chastises me because she says
a lady does not display her anger. I am afraid I
have always been a disappointment to her."

"Josifina? Who is she?"

She frowned, thinking of the woman who
had protected and bullied her. "She was my
niniera when I was small; then she became my
duenna. Now she is a trusted friend and servant. She must be wondering what has happened to me."

Ian smiled as he placed the coffeepot on a
flat rock he'd settled among the flames and
handed Emerada a piece of hard cheese.

"Why do you smile, Ian?" she wanted to
know.

"I was trying to imagine you with a duenna,
or for that matter, with anyone who could
chastise you into submission."

"That is because you do not know Josifina.
She could take you to task, Ian. You would do better tangling with those two buffalo hunters
than with Josifina."

He reclined on his elbow and watched the
firelight play across her midnight-colored hair
which was beginning to dry and curl about her
face. "Tell me more about the family who lived
here. Why did they go away?"

She was silent for a moment, as if trying to
think how to answer him. "You might say the
members of this family were the first casualties
of this war."

"In what way?"

She raised her eyes to his. "Are you really
interested?"

Yes-very.

"The people who lived here at Talavera were
named Felipe and Maretta de la Rosa. When Felipe was a young man, he went to New Orleans,
and there he met and fell in love with a beautiful Frenchwoman, Maretta Cloutier. They were
married, and she came back to Tejas with him.
Eventually they had three sons and a daughter."

"You did know them well."

"Very well. The sons grew tall and straight in
the Tejas sunshine, approaching life with
honor and self-respect, while the daughter was
spoiled by the whole family. In her thirteenth
year she was granted permission to go to New
Orleans to be with her mother's sister. Later the
girl sailed to France with her Aunt Dilena, who
was a famous dancer and was going on a European tour."

"She is a dancer like yourself?"

"No, not like me. In Europe it is different
from here. A dancer there can be admired and
respected. So it was with Dilena. She was so
beautiful and adored that while in France, students from the university unhitched her horses
and pulled her coach. She danced for all the
kings and queens of Europe, and she was worshiped wherever she traveled."

Ian was fascinated by Emerada's tale. He'd
even forgotten about the coffee, and it boiled
over. After he removed the pot and poured
them both a cup of the hot brew, he asked,
"What became of the daughter? Did she become a dancer as well?"

"That is not important. Her visit to France
turned into years because her mother was
stricken with typhoid fever and died. Then
there was talk of war, so her father wanted her
to remain safely in France with her aunt. Later,
her aunt bought a home in New Orleans so the
girl could be close to her father and brothers.
But as much as she loved her aunt, and loved
to travel, she always yearned for the time she
would return to Talavera."

"Is she in France or New Orleans?"

Emerada was so caught up in her narration
that she continued as if Ian hadn't spoken.
"Once a year, the month of her birthday, June,
her father and brothers would visit her in New
Orleans. She was so proud of them, her three
handsome brothers and her wonderful father."

She paused for a moment, as if she were
gathering her thoughts.

Ian could sense a change in her, a heavy sadness. "You don't have to go on if it's too
painful."

"I want to tell you. I have never said any of
this aloud. It might help."

"Go on, then."

"The father loved Mexico, but he loved Tejas
more. He taught his sons and daughter to love
freedom and hate tyranny. He detested Santa
Anna and what he was doing to the people and
the country. Felipe de la Rosa was a friend to
Stephen Austin, a good man who really cared
about people-a gentle man of quiet taste and
high ideals. Senor Austin swore fidelity to
Mexico and considered himself a citizen. But
he soon became disillusioned by the heavy
hand of government. He traveled to Mexico
with a petition for a separate state government
for Tejas. On his way to Mexico City, he
stopped to pass the night with the de la Rosa
family, as was often his habit."

"I know what happened to Austin," Ian said.
"But what happened to this family?"

"Senor Austin was imprisoned in Mexico City.
The de la Rosa family that once lived, loved, and
laughed here-the father and three sons, and
any servant who tried to come to their aid that
day-were murdered by Santa Anna's men. The
beautiful hacienda was burned, the livestock
confiscated, and the land laid to waste."

"My God! Is this true?"

She looked at him with tears in her eyes. "Si,
it is true, Ian McCain. They are all dead."

He didn't know at what point he had begun
to realize that she was speaking of her own
family, and she was the daughter. "Tell me
about the daughter, Emerada."

"The daughter," she said, as if coming out of
a trance, "selfish creature that she was, died
with them that day. She is as dead as the hopes
for freedom in Tejas."

"Why do you call her selfish?"

She lowered her head to her knees and
began to sob. "Because she had returned from
France, but she remained in New Orleans with
her aunt instead of coming home to her family.
She should have been with her father and
brothers and shared their fate." She rolled her
head from side to side, locked in total misery.
"She is more dead than any one of them-she
can't feel, she can't think, she can do nothing
until she destroys the man who is responsible
for the deaths of her family."

It all came together in Ian's mind. She
wasn't with Santa Anna because she loved
him-she was with him because she wanted
to destroy him! She was helping Houston because she saw in him her best hope for destroying the man who had ordered the deaths
of her family.

He moved forward and embraced her. At first
she was stiff in his arms, but he stroked her hair and spoke softly to her, and she finally relaxed against him, sobbing all the while.

She had experienced a terrible tragedy. She
was alone, but for two servants who looked after
her and an aunt somewhere in France. How she
must have suffered every time Santa Anna put
his hands on her, hating him as she did!

"The daughter is not dead," he said softly.
"You, Emerada de la Rosa, are that daughter."

"I wanted to die," she cried. "Many times I
prayed to die, but God was not so merciful."
She blinked the tears from her eyes, wishing
she could stop crying. "They were my family.
Now all that they were and all that they would
ever have been is lost." She shook her head. "I
am nothing without them-nothing!"

He brushed her hair out of her face and
kissed her cheek. It was a chaste kiss meant
only to comfort. "They are alive as long as they
live in your thoughts and in your heart, Emerada. I know how you feel."

"How could you-how could anyone?"

"Emerada, look at me." He tilted her chin.
"When the men at the Alamo died, and I was
still alive, I wanted to throw myself on the
sword of the first Mexican soldier I saw. But I
know now it would have been useless. Yes, I'll
always feel I should have died with them, but it
was out of my hands, just as the fate of your
family was out of your hands. I am not saying
that my tragedy was as severe as yours, but it
was a tragedy nonetheless."

"Yes, but-"

"Shh," he said, pulling her back against him.
"We both have a mission, Emerada. We have
Texas."

"I want my family back."

"You can't have them back, except in your
memory. Keep them alive in your thoughts."
He raised her head and looked into her eyes.
"Lay down your sword, little warrior, and let
me take it up for you."

Her eyes widened. "I do not understand."

"Let me take care of you," he repeated.

She jerked away from him. "You are asking
me to be your mistress?"

He laughed and shook his head. "No, that's
not my intention. I'll settle for being your
friend or standing in the place of a brother."

That thought brought her no comfort. She
didn't want to be Ian's sister. She wanted-she
wanted-she wanted him to love her. But why?
She didn't love him. She had no time for love.
She had to see that Santa Anna did not destroy
any more families, as he had hers. She had to
get away from Ian and make her way back to
Santa Anna and try to convince him that she
had not run away with Ian.

"I had three brothers. I do not want any others."

"A friend then?"

She agreed with a nod of her head. She had
to somehow make him think he could trust her
so she could escape. "I will be your friend, for now. But the time will come when that may
change."

He didn't feel like a brother or a friend. He
wanted to kiss her into submission and make
love to her. But that was not what she needed
at the moment. She was like a crushed flower,
and he wanted to see her bloom again.

"You have befriended me several times,
Emerada, although I am sure it was the last
thing you wanted to do. Did you know that
there is an old Arabic proverb that says if you
save a mans life three times, he belongs to
you?

She smiled and then laughed out loud. "Oh,
no, Ravens Claw! You are not going to make
me permanently responsible for your life. You
are forever walking on the edge, and you might
just pull me in with you the next time you fall."

He leaned back against a pile of soft hay and
pulled her back with him. "You haven't told me
how you came to be the San Antonio Rose."

She chewed on the end of a piece of straw
pensively, as if considering how to answer him.
"It was really quite simple. I knew Santa Anna
had a weakness for women, but I could never
just walk up to him and introduce myself. I decided to use my dancing because I am quite
good at it."

"Yes. You are. But that still doesn't answer
my question."

"My aunt was in Europe for a year, and she
thought I was safely in New Orleans. For obvi ous reasons, I could not use my real name
when I went to Mexico City, so I chose San Antonio Rose. I was amazed when my name grew
and so many were eager to have me perform.
But I still could not get near Santa Anna. So I
came to Tejas. The rest you know."

"I doubt I know everything. There is much
you haven't told me."

The tension that had knotted her muscles
since she had came back to Talavera slowly dissolved as his soothing touch made her aware of
him in a new way.

"What about your aunt, Emerada? Aren't you
afraid that she will find out what you are
doing?"

She looked embarrassed. "Aunt Dilena
thinks I am in school in New Orleans."

"School?" He pulled away from her. "How
old are you, Emerada?"

"I am nineteen-or I will be on my next
birthday."

He stared at her, wondering how many
other girls her age could have accomplished
what Emerada had. She always seemed so
fearless and capable of taking care of herself.
Except for now, when he was seeing the vulnerable side of her. "Surely your aunt must be
worried about you."

"She will be returning to New Orleans in
early summer. I hope she will understand why I
had to come to Tejas."

"She would be proud of you, Emerada. But she has every reason to worry, too." He hugged
her to him, laughing. "I was about to say you
needed someone to keep you out of trouble. Let
it be me."

Warmth spread through her, and she wanted
him to kiss her, to touch her, to possess her
whole body. She did not know that her eyes revealed much of what she was feeling when she
looked at him.

Ian drew in his breath, and his grip tightened
about her. He didn't know who made the first
move, but their lips touched and they pressed
their bodies together, needing to be even closer.

"You do sorely tempt me, little dancer," he
breathed in her ear, nestling his cheek against
hers. "There is fire in you that would delight
any man."

"Hold me, Ian," she said pleadingly. "Hold
me very tight." Her hand went around his neck;
her lips parted, inviting his kiss.

Ian gathered his thoughts and pulled back,
straightening the blanket firmly about her shoulders. He hesitated, reaching for the right words
to express what he was feeling and hoping he
could make her understand. "Under other circumstances, I would want to make love to you.
But this is not the time or place. I would only be
taking unfair advantage of your vulnerability."