San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) (7 page)

Emerada linked her arm through Santa
Anna's and smiled up at him, drawing his attention away from the intruder. "Pedro is just a
harmless fool. He would be no better a soldier
for you than he is a guard for me. Let him godo it for me."

Santa Anna looked doubtfully at the man
who paused in the doorway. "Still, we need
every able-bodied man to march against the
treasonous dogs in Tejas." He glanced down at
the beauty beside him, who looked at him
pleadingly. "Very well, for you I will let him
go." Santa Anna glared at Ian, who took care to
keep his eyes averted. "You have this lady to
thank for your freedom. Get out, and if I hear
of you troubling her again, you will be shot!"

"Si, Senor Presidente," Ian muttered, then
moved out the door and down the stairs. His
thoughts were troubled as he mounted his
horse and rode out of the village. Why had the
dancer helped him escape?

After Santa Anna's departure, Emerada took a
deep breath and let it out slowly. She had accomplished her goal tonight. Santa Anna was
interested in her, and if her luck held, she'd be
able to move at will in and out of his camp.

"That man is gone, and you still have your
virtue, which is a blessing, since he is known
for despoiling young ladies," Josifina said with
disgust. "I have warned you many times about
him. There is danger in the game you play,
Emerada-grave danger."

Emerada was accustomed to Josifina's grumbling, but she was right about Santa Anna-he
was a dangerous man to cross. "I do what I
must, and you know it."

Josifina's shoulders seemed to slump more. "I know how you feel and why you do what you
do. But you cannot bring back the dead."

Emerada's dark eyes glinted. "No, but I can
avenge their deaths-and I will."

Without wasting any time, Emerada stepped
out of her gown and into a leather riding skirt.

"If you must leave tonight, you will wear
something warm-it has turned cold," Josifina
insisted, going to the trunk and removing a
hooded woolen poncho, which she held out to
Emerada.

Obediently Emerada slipped the poncho
over her head and walked to the door. "Do not
despair if you do not hear from me right away.
I will be gone for a few days. Just remember
that I can shoot straight and I can take care of
myself."

Josifina knew it would do no good to argue
with Emerada when her mind was made up
about something. "I will not allow you to go
unless you take Domingo along."

"Si. He is as fussy as you are, and it is not
likely that he would let me go alone." Emerada
came back and kissed Josifina on the cheek. "If
anyone asks about me, tell them I am ill and
cannot be disturbed."

"I know what to do. Go quickly and come
back soon. I pray that God will guide you safely
back to me."

Emerada threw her arms around the old
woman. "Yes, pray for me, because I am afraid. I know what I must do, but I also know
of the danger"

She left quickly, while Josifina dabbed tears
from her eyes.

The danger was real; Emerada knew this.
She was either committing treason, or she was
a patriot, depending on whether one asked
Santa Anna or Sam Houston.

She went quickly down a side street and
found Domingo waiting for her beside their
horses. Josifina had been right: It had turned
bitterly cold and started to snow. It would be a
long ride to Houston's encampment, but she
was determined to confront him about sending
his claw to spy on her!

As they rode out of the village, making a
wide sweep to avoid Santa Anna's troops, the
weather grew worse.

After they had ridden for an hour, the snow
was whipped up by a strong wind. Domingo
guided Emerada to a barn, where they would
rest for the night. After he made her a bed in
the hay and covered her with a woolen blanket,
the old man sat near the door, keeping watch
over her.

Emeradas last conscious thoughts were of
piercing blue eyes. Anger burned within her.
Ian McCain could have ruined everything for
her tonight. She should have let Santa Anna
have him. How dared the man spy on her! Her
eyes narrowed. McCain had not taken it upon himself to watch her movements-no, Houston
must have sent him.

McCain would soon feel the sting of her
anger. And Houston, why had he betrayed her
confidence? How could she trust him after
this? But if she didn't have Houston to help her
in her quest for justice, she would have no one.

The unseasonably cold weather retained its
grip on the land. The snow continued to fall,
and snowdrifts made it impossible to keep to
the road.

Emerada guided her horse through the high
snowbanks and tried to follow Domingo's
tracks.

Miserably, the two of them pushed on
against the gale-force winds. It rarely snowed
in this part of Tejas, and the winters were usually mild. It seemed as if God's hand had been
set against them. As wretched as Emerada felt,
she could only imagine how difficult it was for
the Mexican soldiers, who were ill-equipped
for such bitterly cold weather.

After five days of hard riding, they finally reached Nacogdoches. By then the snow had
melted, and a warm breeze revived the land.

Emerada dismounted while Domingo remained with the horses. She hurried toward
the crude log cabin and moved up the rickety
steps. Not bothering to knock, she pushed the
door open and moved inside. No one was
there. She removed her gloves while she looked
around at the sparse furnishings-a table and
five chairs, an oil lamp, and plank floors. There
was a door to her right, and she supposed that
would be Houston's bedroom.

She moved to the table and stared down at
the map spread there. From the markings she
saw, it was apparent that Houston already knew
that Santa Anna had crossed into Tejas. No
doubt his spy, Ian McCain, had reported to him.

She should have let Santa Anna kill him.

The outer door opened, and Emerada turned
to see Ian enter. For a long moment they stared
at each other

Ian was the first to speak. "I'm glad to have
this chance to thank you for saving my life."
His expression looked anything but thankfulhe examined her face so closely that she was
sure she had no secrets left.

"I was just thinking about you."

Ian smiled and drew closer, reading the
anger in her eyes. "Pleasant thoughts, I hope."

"I was thinking that I should have allowed
Santa Anna to shoot you. What were you doing
climbing up to my window and spying on me?"

"Did it occur to you that I was spying on
Santa Anna, and you just happened to be with
him?"

"Whatever you may think about me, I am not
a fool. You came to Prisido del Rio Grande to
spy on me and nothing more. You just happened to find Santa Anna there." She smiled in
amusement. "Have you told Houston how you
were caught sneaking around on a roof? Does
he know that his spy-his claw-was so easily
discovered?"

Ian had come to respect Emerada's intelligence, although he questioned her choice of
lovers. Santa Anna was a philanderer, and it
did not sit well with Ian that this woman gave
in to the Mexican presidents lustful urges. "I
told him everything."

"Everything?" She gave him a mocking
smile. "What could you have told him about
me, I wonder?"

He moved to the table and rolled up the map.
"Now what could I possibly need to know about
you that I couldn't find out in any cantina?"

She had been removing her gloves, and he
saw her hands close in fists. "You insult me,
senor. If I were a man, I would shoot you
dead!" She slapped her glove against her thigh.
"Maybe I shall shoot you anyway."

He smiled. "If you were a man, I can assure
you that this conversation would not be taking
place, dancer."

Emerada buried her resentment for Ian Mc Cain deep, a practiced accomplishment she
had developed over the last four years. Now
was not the time to spar with him-she had
more important matters to attend to. "I have
come to see Houston. Is he here?" she asked,
dismissing Ian by turning her back on him.

"Unfortunately, he is not."

She whirled around. "Where is he?"

"I cannot say," he said evasively. "Tell me
what you want, and I'll see that the general gets
your message."

"I do not talk to underlings," she said contemptuously. "Houston will not thank you if I
came all this way to see him and you stood in
my way."

He smiled. "No man would like to be denied
your company, Emerada."

She glared at him, her breasts rising and
falling with each breath she took. "I did not
give you permission to use my name."

His eyes were piercing now, and his tone was
hard. "Would you prefer that I call you San Antonio Rose?"

"No, senor, I would not."

"Then what should I call you?"

"You have no need to address me at all. I
have no wish to speak to you." She moved to a
chair and sat down. "I will wait here until
Senor Houston comes back."

"Then you must be prepared to wait for several days. As I said, he's not here."

She stood up and paced back and forth.
"When will he return?"

"I can t say."

"Cannot, or will not?"

He shrugged. "I can't say."

Emerada dropped down on the chair wearily.
She had ridden for days through a blinding
snowstorm to reach Houston, and now he
wasn't here. "I will remain in town for two
days. If he has not returned by that time, I shall
have to leave."

Ian was suddenly struck by her soft beauty,
and for a moment he could not speak. Pulling
his thoughts together, he said, "Senorita, I
would advise you to reconsider. There are very
few women here, and none as pretty as you.
Though I would like to think my men are all
gentlemen, I can't ensure your safety."

She moved to the door and gave him a scornful glance. "I will look after my own safety. You
cannot even find your way off of a roof without
getting caught. Inform Houston, when he returns, that I want to see him." Without looking
in his direction, she left the cabin.

After she'd gone, Ian stood there staring at
the door, stung by her unfavorable opinion of
him. Sparks had flown between them since
their first meeting. She got under his skin as no
other woman ever had. She was shrouded in
mystery. One thing he knew: She wasn't a mere
dancer, as she would have people believe. He would find out about her, no matter how mysterious she was, or how hard she tried to cover
her tracks.

The room Emerada occupied above the general
store was surprisingly comfortable and clean.
It consisted of a small bed and two overstuffed
chairs. The bed had a soft mattress and a
brightly colored patchwork quilt. She couldn't
wait to lie down and rest after her grueling
journey. She rummaged in her small valise
until she found a light cotton gown and quickly
changed into it. After a short nap, she went to
the window and stared out at the encampment.

She was glad that a warm breeze had swept
across the land, melting the snow and washing
the countryside with sunshine. Her view looked
out on a parade ground, and she could watch
the men training for war. She compared these
ragtag men unfavorably with the Mexican soldiers, who were smartly dressed and marched
in time-these men marched as if they were
wading through a cow lot. Looking for something to admire about them, she admitted that
she was impressed by their marksmanship.

She stood up straight and pulled away from
the window when Ian McCain walked across
the training ground. Tentatively, she parted the
curtains and peered out again. Ian was too far
away for her to hear what was being said, but
laughter drifted to her-the recruits obviously
liked the insufferable man!

She leaned forward, her gaze settling on Ian.
He was all male, tall with a classic profile. She
positioned her elbow on the window ledge,
resting her chin on her hand, watching only
him as he instructed the men on how to load
their guns and fire them while running. He was
a good shot, hitting the target every time.

Emerada wondered where he was from and
what had brought him to Tejas. She could tell
that he was a gentleman, even though he chose
to treat her with disrespect. She was not very
good at distinguishing the differences between
Americans accents, but Ian's speech was similar to Houston's so she assumed that he must
also be from the South.

After a while Ian left, and Emerada lost interest in the soldiers. She hurriedly dressed in
her riding skirt, determined to escape the confines of the small room.

Later she rode along a country lane, taking
in the beauty of the land. No matter where she
traveled, Tejas would always be the home of
her heart, although when this was all over she
would leave and never return.

Sometimes she was so confused. Tejas belonged to Mexico, so that made Mexico her
country, and yet she could not condone the
governments treatment of its citizens, any
more than her father had.