San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) (20 page)

"Come," Houston said, offering her his arm.
"You will eat with me and then rest before you
return to Santa Anna."

"I don't think she should go back to him, sir,"
Ian said quickly. "It's getting too dangerous for
her."

"That's why you will escort her most of the
way back," Houston said with irony. "I do trust
that you can keep her safe, Colonel McCain?" He smiled down at Emerada. "So far, she's always had to save your skin."

Emerada was not pleased that Ian was to be
her escort, and from the dark look on his face,
he was none too pleased either.

Houston led Emerada away. "You'll leave
early in the morning, Ian."

Emerada stopped, her gaze searching Houston's eyes. "What if I could end Santa Anna's
life? I can easily arrange to be alone with him.
It would be a simple thing to kill him."

Houston shook his head. "Have you ever
killed a man, Emerada?"

"No. But he is not a man. The people of Mexico would be better off without him."

"I pray you will not attempt such an act.
They would only send someone else to take his
place, probably his brother-in-law, General
Cos, who is every bit as ruthless as Santa
Anna."

She nodded. "I suppose you are right. I can
wait."

Houston guided her forward. "I want you to
come out of this war alive, Emerada. I have
grown fond of you."

She looked at him with an earnest expression on her face. "And I of you, General."

It was still dark when Emerada emerged on the
porch. She had felt ill all night and hadn't slept
very well. At times she'd felt feverish and would
kick the covers off; then she'd suffer from chills
and pull the covers high.

She could not be ill. There was too much she
had to accomplish. Everything was beginning
to come together, and she had to help Houston.

She half hoped that Ian would not be there
and she could just ride away alone. But he was
waiting for her, and when she came down the
steps, he sat forward in his saddle and nodded
stiffly. She didn't acknowledge him in any way
after the things he'd said to her the day before.
Besides, he didn't want to be with her any more
than she wanted him there.

She slipped her booted foot into the stirrup
and mounted the horse. Without a backward
glance, she started her horse off at a gallop.

Ian and Emerada rode for over an hour in silence. Finally she halted her mount and looked
out over a bluff at the rising sun as it spread
color across the land.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Ian remarked next to
her.

Her eyes swept over the deep valley to a distant river that reflected the sunlight like a
golden prism. "It's breathtaking. It is difficult
to believe there is a war raging when it looks so
peaceful."

Ian turned to her, his gaze tracing her face.
"Yes, breathtaking."

She took in a deep breath and guided her
horse forward. "There is no need for you to
come with me any farther. If Santa Anna sees
you again, I will not be able to save you."

"Houston wanted me to accompany you to
Santa Anna's encampment-I suppose you
know where it is?"

"Si. I know where to find him."

"No doubt you do," he said under his breath.

For the second time in two days, Emerada
felt light-headed and lethargic. She gripped the
reins of her horse and hugged its flanks with
her knees, praying she would not be unseated.

When they stopped to rest the horses, she felt
so cold that she couldn't stop trembling. She
couldn't give in to weakness-she had to keep moving. She led her horse down a steep incline, counting each step, putting one foot in
front of the other. The churning nausea came
in waves, and she willed herself not to give in
to it.

Suddenly blackness hovered over her, and
she clutched her horse's mane to support herself, but she could not stop the blackness from
encroaching. Emerada felt herself falling
downward. She was unconscious by the time
she hit the ground.

Ian saw Emerada fall, and he leaped to catch
her, but he couldn't reach her in time. Helplessly he watched as she rolled downward and
struck her head against a boulder at the bottom
of the hill.

He lifted her head and examined her carefully. There was a wide gash on her forehead
that was bleeding. He was puzzled as to why
she had fallen. He didn't see her lose her footing; she just seemed to pitch forward.

When he touched her face, he discovered
that she was burning up with fever.

How long had she been ill, and why hadn't
she said something to him about it?

"Emerada de la Rosa, you're the damnedest
woman I've ever known. Were you too proud to
ask me for help?" Ian knew she couldn't hear
him, but it helped allay some of his fear to hear
his own voice. He couldn't tell how badly she
was hurt, or how ill she was.

He removed his coat and placed it under her head and then went back up the hill and led the
horses down to where Emerada lay. Taking his
canteen, he wet his neckerchief and placed it
on her head wound.

"Don't worry," he said, softly touching her
cheek. "I won't let anything happen to you."

When he'd examined her for broken bones
and found none, he gently lifted her and carried her to the other side of the boulder, where
the ground was reasonably level. He opened
his bedroll and placed her on it, then built a
fire to keep her warm, unmindful that there
might be hostile Indians or Mexican patrols in
the area who would see the fire.

After he had applied ointment and bandaged
her head, he saw that her body was still trembling from chills. He put his own blanket over
her and sat beside her, his rifle across his lap.
Emerada was in no condition to go on, so for
the moment there was nothing more he could
do for her. He tried to control the panic that
rose inside him.

She had to be all right-she just had to!

Emerada groaned, and her eyes fluttered, but
she didn't open them.

Ian placed his hand on her arm and said
softly, "Don't worry, dearest one; no one will
harm you tonight-I won't let them."

She hadn't regained consciousness, and he
knew that wasn't a good sign. She was so pale!

Ian raised his head to the now dark sky, with
an earnest prayer on his lips. "God, don't let anything happen to her. If you have to take one
of us, let it be me. Take me-not her."

Emerada regained consciousness with an excruciating headache. When she turned her
head, pain shot through her temple. She
reached up and found a makeshift bandage
across her forehead. It took her a moment to
remember what had happened to her. The last
thing she remembered was falling into darkness.

Although she was underneath two woolen
blankets, and there was a welcome campfire
blazing next to her, she was still cold. She
glanced to her left and found Ian sleeping.

He jerked awake and looked at her. "How do
you feel?" His touch was gentle, and concern
was etched on his face.

"I do not know what happened to me." Her
hand went to her head. "Why is my head bandaged?"

He moved closer to her and tucked the blanket about her shoulders. "You hit your head
when you fell. Try not to move more than necessary."

Her teeth were chattering. "I am so cold."

He placed his hand on her head. "How long
have you had a fever?"

"I am not sure. I did not feel well all day yesterday, but I thought it would pass."

"You push yourself too hard, Emerada. Why can't you stay home and knit socks like other
women?"

She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back
down, and she didn't object. "Is that the kind
of woman you prefer, Ian-one who will knit
your socks and answer to your every command?"

A smile curved his lips. "I seem to prefer a
spirited dancer who has more courage than
good sense, and more stubbornness than ten
men."

She was not amused by his assessment of
her. "If that was a compliment, Ian McCain, it
was not flattering. But whatever could I have
done to earn such high praise?"

He stood up and placed more wood on the
fire, then listened to the night sounds before
turning his attention back to her. "Go to sleep.
We have already lost half a day, I hope you are
able to ride in the morning."

She wished her head would stop throbbing
and the world would right itself. "Who appointed you my protector, Ian?"

"God only knows."

She suddenly gave him a weak smile. "I believe it was Houston."

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a disgruntled glance. "If I'd known the trouble you
were going to cost me, I'd never have spoken to
you that first day. And I would have refused
Houston's orders to find out who you were."

She turned her head away and closed her
eyes. "Go away. I do not want to talk to you."

Ian watched her for a moment and then settled down beside her. It was a good sign that
she had regained consciousness. "You are
strong of body and spirit and will never allow a
little thing like illness to slow you down for
long."

"I want to sleep," she muttered.

And she did.

It was almost daylight when Ian heard riders in
the distance. He quickly threw dirt on the fire
and gripped his rifle, grateful that a heavy fog
blanketed the countryside.

Emerada sat up, her eyes wide. "Is something wrong?"

"Shh."

She edged closer to him when she heard
Mexican voices. "Do you see them?"

"No," he whispered. "But that is to our advantage because they can't see us either. I only
hope they didn't see our fire."

"You must leave," she urged Ian, getting to
her knees and touching his shoulder. "They will
not hurt me."

"You can't be sure of that." He placed his finger to his lips. "Shh. They're just below."

Emerada could hear her heartbeat pounding
in her head. She was frightened, but not for
herself. If Santa Anna's men caught Ian, they would kill him. "Please go. I do not want them
to find you here."

He pushed her back down on the bedroll and
positioned his body between her and the riders. For a long moment neither of them moved.

Just when Emerada thought they were safe,
one of their horses whinnied, and she knew
the riders must have heard it. "Ian, what shall
we do?"

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to
her feet. Before she knew what he was about,
he lifted her in his arms and moved back up
the incline. When they reached the top, he set
her on her feet and paused to catch his breath.

"We have to hide, Emerada. They will come
looking for us. Can you walk if I support your
weight?"

"Si. Let us hurry! It sounds like they've found
our camp."

Ian gripped her about the waist and helped
her over the rough terrain until he found a
place where time and weather had carved a depression into the limestone cliff. It was large
enough for only one person to hide, so he
quickly shoved Emerada inside and placed
bushes in front of her.

"What are you doing?" she asked frantically
when she realized that he wasn't coming in
with her.

"I'm going to draw them away from you.
Keep quiet until I come back for you."

She would have protested, but he'd already
moved away. She pressed her back against the
rough stone wall and prayed for his safety He
was deliberately drawing attention to himself
so the men wouldn't find her hiding place.

There was nothing for Emerada to do but remain quiet. She knew Ian well enough to realize
that he would put himself in danger to rescue
her. A chill caused her to shake uncontrollably
and her head hurt so. But her main concern
was for Ian. Nothing must happen to him.

Time passed slowly, and soon the bright sunlight burned away the fog. Emerada saw a flash
of blue uniform and knew it was Mexican soldiers coming back down the hill. She held her
breath when they stopped near her hiding
place.

From her vantage point Emerada could see
five men. One of them spoke. "We will never
find them. We have wasted enough time. Let us
rejoin General Cos." Emerada recognized one
of the soldiers. He was usually near Santa
Anna, but she didn't know his name.

It seemed like an eternity before the men
moved on down the hill. A short time later she
heard them mount their horses and ride away.
But she did not move, afraid they might be trying to trick her into believing they had left.

Suddenly Ian was there, removing the
branches and helping her to stand. "Are you all
right?" he asked, looking her over.

She nodded. "They have probably taken our
horses, leaving us to walk."

"They did. I saw them leading our mounts
away. No doubt they took everything else, too."

"Why did you not ride away when you had the
chance? I told you they would not harm me."

He gave her a disbelieving glance. "You have
a short memory, Emerada. Have you forgotten
those two men who attacked you the last time
we were together?"