San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) (17 page)

"And then beyond. How could I know that
night you danced into my life that I would-"

She placed her hand over his mouth. "Do not
say anything tonight that you may want to retract tomorrow." She gave him her most seductive glance. "Of course, once the San Antonio
Rose captures a man in her web, he is caught
for life."

He laughed and kissed her soundly. "Vixen."

"Seducer of women," she teased back.

Ian suddenly grabbed her, and before she
could protest, he lifted her in his arms and
laughingly carried her toward the front of the
stable. He kicked the door open with his foot.

When she realized what he was doing, she
clung to his neck. "No, Ian! It is raining outside, and we are not wearing anything!"

"Who will see us-the frogs?"

He stepped outside, and they were hit by a
deluge of rain. He swung her around laughingly, and her joyous laughter joined his.

The cool, cleansing rain washed over them,
but she didn't feel it because Ian's lips were on
hers. After a long, drugging kiss, he carried her
back inside the stable. Draping her in the blanket, he pulled on his trousers and built up the campfire. He sat down before it and drew her
onto his lap.

His expression was serious as he looked into
her eyes. "Do you really feel as I do, Emerada?"

The cold rain had cooled her passion, and
she stared at him, trying not to think about
their lovemaking. "What do you feel?"

"That life is suddenly sweeter, that the world
is a better place, and that tomorrow will only
be better."

She considered his words for a moment. She
did not think tomorrow would be better, because she must leave him. "Ian, tomorrow
there will still be a war to fight, people will die,
and women will weep. But," she said pensively,
"life will be sweeter after tonight."

"Damned right," he said, tasting her lips.
Then, cocking his head to the side, he arched
an eyebrow and gave her an inquiring look.

She threw her arms around him, surrendering to him once more.

For now Emerada could forget the terrible
war that raged across Tejas, and the lives that
had been lost. For now she was gripped by
something magnificent, and she knew that Ian
was finding forgetfulness in her arms-if only
for tonight.

It was in the early hours of the morning and
still dark when Emerada slipped out of Ian's
arms while he still slept. Silently she dressed and saddled her horse. She then bent down to
Ian, wanting to curl up beside him once more,
but she dared not. If she didn't leave now, she
never would.

His dark hair was swept across his forehead,
and his long lashes lay softly against his
cheeks. At that moment, she wanted him to
open his eyes so she could look into their shimmering depths for the last time.

But she dared not kiss his lips as she wanted,
because if he should awaken, he wouldn't allow
her to leave.

"Please understand that I must continue on
the path I have chosen, and you must go your
way," she whispered.

He murmured in his sleep, but didn't
awaken.

When Emerada grasped her horse's reins and
walked toward the door, she turned back to
Ian. With a resigned sigh, she went back to
him, bent down, and kissed his lips.

"I do not think we will ever meet again," she
said softly. With Ian, she had become a different
person, someone she didn't recognize. He made
her reach deep within herself and discover
emotions she'd never known she possessed. He
brought out the best and worst in her.

With a heavy heart, she turned and walked
away.

She mounted her horse and rode off into the
predawn shadows, heading in the direction
where she knew she would find Santa Anna.

When she was a safe distance from Ian, she
halted and glanced back, her heart aching. She
allowed her eyes to move over the charred remains of what had once been a happy home.

She nudged her horse in the flanks and rode
away, leaving the past and its ghosts behind.
Even Ian belonged to the past, but she would
never forget the one glorious night she had
spent in his arms.

When she gave herself to Santa Anna, she
would close her eyes and imagine it was Ian
touching her.

Ian awoke when sunlight beamed through a
crack in the door and hit his face. He gazed
around the stable, looking for Emerada, but
she wasn't there. She must have gone outside,
he reasoned.

He smiled, remembering last night. He was a
man who had found his lady, and he wasn't
about to let her get away from him. Not that
she'd try. He was sure that Emerada had felt
the same as he had last night.

He was glad the storm had moved away so
they could make better time reaching General
Houston. They should leave right away,
though.

Ian shoved the door open and squinted in the
bright sunlight. It was going to be a hot day, not unusual for this part of Texas, even in the
winter.

He drew in a deep breath, feeling revived and
reborn. Emerada had done that for him. Excitement stirred within him as he called to her.
"Emerada, where are you?"

When she didn't answer, he walked toward
the charred ruins of the hacienda, thinking
he'd find her there. As he walked along the
overgrown path, he saw several ancient gravestones in a fenced area. None of the graves
looked new enough to be those of her father or
brothers. He wondered why their bodies would
be buried in a different place from other family
members.

He could only imagine how difficult it had
been for Emerada to return to Talavera. She
had probably needed to be alone this morning
and was walking somewhere.

Ian edged along the rough walls of the house
that had been gutted by fire. Most of the interior
was nothing but charred and crumbling ruins,
but it must have been magnificent at one time.
Now it was only a skeletal reminder of the home
it had once been. Still not worried, he made his
way through a breezeway that had miraculously not been touched by the fire. He found
the back of the house still intact, and he leaned
against the cool, thick walls, his gaze sweeping
the pastureland, hoping to see Emerada.

There was nothing there but sadness. He had
to get her away as quickly as possible.

He would convince her to stay in Nacogdoches, where he could see her more often. He
smiled, and then laughed out loud. Perhaps
they would be married right away He didn't
want the least bit of scandal to touch Emeradas life.

Married! Was he thinking of marriage?

His mind had been taking him in that direction without his being aware of it. He hurriedly
retraced his steps, anxious to tell Emerada-or
to ask her-to marry him. He supposed that
would be the proper approach.

As he reached the barn, he saw something he
had missed earlier. Emerada had carved a sentiment for him in the mud, using a stick, no
doubt.

The smile left his face as he read her message: Ian, I had to go.

Ian raised his face upward, crying out in
agony, but his voice only echoed among the
ruins. "No, Emerada! No!"

Emerada rode her horse hard. She had to get
to Presidio del Rio Grande so she could be certain Josifina was all right, and then she must
lose no time in locating Santa Anna. Josifina
was surely out of her mind with worry by now,
and she could only imagine what Domingo
must be thinking about her disappearance.
Possibly he was with Josifina, knowing that
was the first place she would go if she were
able.

It was after nightfall on the third day that
Emerada reached the village. The streets were
strangely quiet, the square empty. She rode to
the hotel and dismounted, looping the reins
over the hitching post.

When she entered the lobby, the man behind
the desk looked startled for a moment. "Ali,
senorita, you are sadly too late for the burial
rites."

She was confused. "What? Who died?"

He shook his head. "I am sorry to tell you
that your maid was found dead in your roomthree... no, four days ago."

Sudden pain surrounded her heart, and she
bounded up the stairs. It couldn't be true-not
her Josifina!

Emerada opened the door and was immediately clutched in Domingo's tight hug. "I knew
you would come," he said, leading her to a
chair and guiding her down.

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed,
overwhelmed by the loss of her dear Josifina.
"It is my fault. I should have been with her."
She moaned. "I should have taken better care
of her."

"It was not your fault. Josifina was eightythree years old, and her heart gave out. If she
was here, she would tell you not to blame
yourself."

"It is my fault."

"You were Josifina's life," Domingo said
kindly. "Just to be with you was her happiness."

"Were you with her.. .when it happened?"

"No. After I took your message to General
Houston, I went back to San Antonio de Bexar,
only to find no one knew where you were. It
was said you left with the American prisoner,
but I knew you did not go with him of your
own free will. I also knew that if you could escape from him, you would come here, so I
waited for you."

"I do not know what to do now, Domingo.
Everything has gone wrong."

The big man nodded. "We should go back to
France to be with your aunt."

She raised her head and brushed her tears
away. "I cannot do that-you know what I
must do."

He sighed and looked resigned. "I was certain you would not give up now. When do we
catch up with Santa Anna?"

She stumbled toward the bed, feeling so
weary. "I must sleep until morning. Tomorrow
I will want to go to Josifina's grave. Then we
will leave."

"Rest for now," he said softly, wondering
what hell she'd lived through.

She turned onto her side and closed her
eyes, immediately falling asleep, but Domingo
saw that she trembled from crying so hard. He
covered her with a shawl, then moved to the
window and sat in a chair. He would watch
over her as he always had.

Emerada faced many dangers, but she was not a coward, and that was why Domingo had
to take better care of her. She always rushed
into trouble before devising a plan to escape.
She had no one but him now to look after her
and keep her from harm.

Ian was astonished by the pitiful sight he saw
along the road. Fear had spread through the
settlements after the fall of the Alamo, and
American families were fleeing for the border.
The rains had come again, making it even
more miserable for the continuous exodus
from Texas.

He passed barefoot women and children
looking bedraggled and frightened. They kept
glancing over their shoulders, as if they expected Santa Anna to come bearing down on
them at any moment. They had every right to
be afraid, because the Mexican army was at
their backs and moving toward them at a fast
pace.

It was a gloomy afternoon when Ian entered
San Felipe de Austin. A sentry shouted out to
him, "Colonel McCain, have you heard the
news? Texas has done gone and declared independence, and we have us a president! President David Burnet!"

Ian smiled and waved, too weary to consider
what that would mean to the men who would
be called upon to defend the newly declared
country.

With a heavy heart, he located General Houston's headquarters. He had dreaded the
moment he'd have to tell Houston that he'd
failed in his mission to save the situation in
San Antonio.

When he entered the cabin, Houston looked
up from his paperwork with a grim expression.
"What's kept you?"

"I was Santa Anna's prisoner. I had to fight
the rain and mud, and this morning I had a
skirmish with three enemy soldiers."

"Hell, boy, is that all?" Houston chuckled. "I
already heard about your capture. I thought
you were too smart to get yourself caught, but I
knew you'd escape somehow."

"I'm not feeling too good about getting myself captured." He lowered his gaze and stared
at his muddy boots. "I let you down in San Antonio. I should have been with Travis, Bowie,
and the others."

"I'm glad you weren't, because you'd be
dead now. How do you think I'd explain that
to your ma?"

"There is no excusing what I did."

Houston shook his head in annoyance.
"You're the best man I've got, and I'll stack you
up against any of Santa Anna's men-any day,
anytime. But don't come whining to me about
failing. This war isn't over yet, and I need you."

Ian knew he should feel relieved by the general's confidence in him, but he felt worse. "I'm
ashamed that I didn't get the men out of the
Alamo, sir. You have reason to court-martial-"

Houston interrupted him. "I'm not going to
let you off that easily. No one could feel sorrier
than I do about the brave men who died at that
mission. But we don't have time to lament.
Santa Anna is regrouping and ready to take us
on. We've got ourselves an all-out war, and we
still don't have an army." Houston glanced back
at his paper. "If I could only be sure of Santa
Anna's movements."