San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  "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?"

  "But they were Americans. These were Santa Anna's soldiers. They would not have harmed me, for fear of reprisal from him."

  "Its of little matter now." He squinted toward the horizon. "We have no food, water, blankets, or horses. And we're probably lost. So if you have any idea where we are, you must guide us." He looked doubtful. "We can't stay here. Do you feel like going on?"

  She nodded. "I know where we are. We are on land that belonged to my father before Santa Anna confiscated it. If we walk in a westerly direction, we will come to Talavera."

  Ian turned to her and smiled. "I have fond memories of the stable there."

  She gave him an angry glance, and he held up his hand in surrender. "I was merely remembering. You can't blame a man for that."

  Emerada was still feverish, and her head throbbed every time she took a step. She knew they must go on. They had to find shelter before dark.

  Once she stumbled and fell, and Ian picked her up and carried her. When she tried to protest, he silenced her with a glance.

  She laid her head against his shoulder, feeling as if it belonged there. She had been right the first day when some sixth sense told her that her life would be interlocked with Ian's. Every time she left him, fate seemed to pull her back.

  She delighted in the feel of his muscled arms about her. Turning her face against his neck, she felt his pulse throb against her lips. Warmth flowed through her body like a flood ing river. No man would ever make her feel the emotions that Ian did.

  He shifted her weight and looked down at her with a passionate glance. "If you don't stop that, Emerada, I can't promise not to retaliate," he said in a deep voice.

  She felt the blush on her cheeks and hid her face. With the fever raging through her, she wasn't sure what was real and what was imagination. But she knew that he wanted her as much as she wanted him, and she would have to fight against those feelings.

  "You can put me down now. I can walk."

  He placed her on firm ground and dabbed at his forehead with his neckerchief. "Do you feel like you can go a little farther?"

  "It is not much farther now. Talavera is just over that next rise."

  "Lean on me," he said. "When you need to rest, let me know."

  Emerada didn't think she could take another step as they made their way down the hill. It was almost dark, and the stable was a welcome sight.

  Ian saw her stumble and lifted her in his arms once again. "I'll carry you the last few steps, Emerada. You shouldn't even be out of bed in your condition, let alone hiking through the countryside."

  "It's good to be home," she said, too weary to protest.

  "Do you still think of Talavera as home?"

  "No matter where I go, or what I do in the future, this will always be my home. Even though the Mexican government confiscated it, my family paid for this land in blood, and so will I, if I have to."

  He carried her as easily as if she were a child. "I wonder why you haven't asked Santa Anna to restore the land to you."

  She glared at him and wriggled to get out of his arms. "I would not ask anything of him. I want no favors from that cowardly president general who remains well behind the lines while his men die."

  "Be still or I'll drop you, Emerada. Anything can set off that Mexican temper of yours."

  "You can, Ian. Especially when you think I should ask Santa Anna for a favor."

  He entered the stable and placed her on her feet. "Emerada, I never know what's in your mind. What makes you think you have to take on Santa Anna all by yourself? You might consider allowing the Texas army to get him for you."

  "I have cast my lot with Houston, but I am no longer sure he is the man to confront Santa Anna."

  Emerada moved into the cool interior, realizing she no longer had a fever. It had been hot today, but as the sun began to set, there was a chill in the air.

  "Houston knows what he's doing," Ian said curtly.

  "I pray you are right."

  She glanced at him, and he noticed that her lips trembled. "One way or another, it will be all over soon, Emerada. Then we can create a new life here in this wonderful land."

  "A new life for you, and the woman you are betrothed to. I will not stay in Tejas when the war has ended."

  He couldn't deny that he was betrothed to Pauline, and he wasn't really free to ask anything of Emerada. But he couldn't let her go either. "You know I will help you, Emerada. I want to take care of you."

  "I do not want your help any more than I want Santa Anna's. I want to owe no one."

  "You are setting yourself up for a very lonely life, Emerada."

  She raised her shoulders and shrugged. "My life has been too crowded of late. I would welcome loneliness."

  In frustration, he blurted out, "I can't talk to you when you're like this!"

  She struck a flint and lit the lantern that illuminated the darkened corners of the stable. "I just want to rest."

  Ian looked about him in total amazement. The stable had been swept, and there was fresh hay in the stalls and supplies on a shelf.

  Emerada picked up a bucket and thrust it at him. "The well still has fresh water." She smiled at the bemused expression on his face. "Domingo cleaned and laid in fresh suppliescanned goods and blankets-on the chance that I might need to hide out here later, should circumstances go against me."

  Ian gripped the bucket handle and walked toward the door. "Everything we need but a horse."

  After he left, she dropped to her knees, too ill to move. It wouldn't be safe to lay a fire, since there were so many soldiers about, but she should get the blankets and make the beds. Wearily she made her way to the tack room and gathered several blankets in her arms. Moving to one of the stalls, she spread a blanket over the fresh straw and lay down, roll
ing up in it to keep warm.

  When Ian returned, she was already asleep. He quietly opened a can of beans he found with the supplies and ate them in the near dark. Afterward he put another blanket on Emerada and went to the next stall to make his bed.

  Although he was tired and every muscle ached, it was a long time before he fell asleep. He had visions of the last night he'd spent there with Emerada, visions that turned to dreams when he at last fell asleep.

  Ian awoke and rolled to his feet. He went directly to the stall where Emerada had slept and found it empty. In a panic, he quickly searched the stable, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

  Had she left him in the middle of the night, just as she did before?

  She was ill and had no horse. He hurried to the door-he had to find her!

  A bright moon poured its light across the grotesque, unnatural shape of the burned-out house, and he saw her standing before it, her head lowered, her hands clasped in front of her. He could only imagine what horrors were eating at her mind.

  When he approached her, she turned into his arms and laid her head against his chest. "Ian, I can't get their deaths out of my mind. It was the despicable act of a monster."

  He clasped her to him, feeling her anguish as if it were his own. "I understand how you feel. And for the first time I understand why you feel it your duty to avenge your family."

  She blinked back her tears. "I need to know how they died, but no one can tell me." Her body trembled. "I pray it was quick and merciful." She grasped his shirtfront and looked into his face. "I am so afraid that they were burned alive. I must know-I must!"

  Ian kissed the top of her head. "Don't think about it, Emerada. If it is humanly possible, I will find out for you."

  She allowed Ian to lead her back to the stable and wrap her in a blanket. "I believe we can risk a fire now." He placed his hand on her forehead. "You don't have fever."

  "The sickness of the body has passed, but the sickness of the soul still rages inside me." She watched him lay a fire, and her eyes focused on the flames when they licked hungrily at the dry wood. "It must be very painful to die by fire."

  Ian went on his knees before her and tilted her face to him. "Stop thinking about it, Emerada."

  "If only I could."

  He scooped her into his arms, his hands moving up and down her back. "Think of something else, sweet one," he whispered against her ear. "Think about the good times you had with your family. Remember their smiles, their laughter, and how grieved they would be if they knew how sad you are."

  She nodded, as his hands, which had been comforting only moments before, now evoked a yearning within her. She pulled back enough so she could place her hands on both sides of his face. With a boldness that came from need, she moved forward, her lips lightly touching his.

  Ian stiffened at first, but he could not deny the passion that flowed through his body. He had wanted to comfort her; now all he could think about was taking possession of her body.

  "Emerada, my sweet, sweet love," he said as he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the closest stall. He placed her gently on the blanket and went down beside her, molding her shape to his, swelling against her, kissing her until she moaned with the same burning longing that consumed him.

  Emerada wanted to tear her clothes off, to remove all barriers between her and heaven.

  Ian's hand slid beneath her blouse and swept over her breasts, teasing the nipples between his fingers and rekindling the passion she'd felt for him the first time he had made love to her. But this time her yearning was deeper and more profound, because she knew what it felt like in that perfect moment when their bodies melded.

  "I wasn't going to do this again," he said in a deep voice, his hands impatiently pushing her skirt over her hips. "I can't stop myself."

  She boldly slid her hand down his chest and across his stomach. "I do not want you to stop, Ian. Make love to me. Make me forget everything else."

  "Emerada, I have never before given so much of myself to a woman. I want you to know that."

  "Oh, Ian," she said, placing a kiss on his lips, feeling sorrow cut into her like a knife. "Do not give so much of yourself to me. Save it for the woman you will marry."

  Then his hand swept downward, parting her legs and gently caressing her. Her arms tightened about his neck, and her lips welcomed his kiss. His mouth ravished hers, drawing a moan of unrestrained pleasure.

  "My own, my heart," he said, twining his hands in her hair and raising it to his lips.

  He had been systematically undressing her, kissing her, touching her, and soon his own clothing lay in a heap with hers.

  Emerada felt his swollen arousal hot between her legs and groaned in pleasure. She gripped his shoulders as he glided inside her, holding him tightly to her, wishing she could be absorbed into him.

  His smooth strokes reached deep inside her, and she thought she would scream from the feelings that washed over her. Wave after wave of pleasure went through her like a ravishing tidal wave.

  He spoke softly to her, teaching her, prodding her, instructing, and she was his apt pupil. Each new experience brought her a deeper joy. There was no part of her body his hands and lips did not touch.

  The shabby stable was awash in golden light and became a paradise in their shared passion.

  When Ian's rhythm changed, she rode to a higher plane of passion with him.

  "Making love to you is like a magical potion." He groaned. "I can never have enough, and I never want to stop."

  "Yes," she answered in a whisper and then a gasp, because his lips had just settled on her breast. "Never enough."

  With each powerful stroke, her body rocked against his. The pain was in the beauty of it and knowing that they would probably never be together like this again.

  She spread her legs, giving him easier access, and he took advantage, giving her all of him. Her stomach seemed to tighten, and then her whole body quaked with fulfillment. Emerada gripped Ian's shoulders when he rapidly thrust forward, bringing her even more pleasure.

  She cried out his name and went limp against him as both their bodies reached for that final pleasurable climax.

  Her lips moved over his face until she found his mouth. His arms tightened about her so lovingly that she wanted to cry. Theirs had been a perfect joining. They both knew it, but neither one admitted it aloud.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, releasing her and laying the palm of his hand against her stomach.

  She shook her head, unable to say what was in her heart. How dear of him to worry that he'd hurt her.

  "No. I felt no pain."

  He sat up, suddenly overcome with shame. "I never meant to do this to you again, Emerada. You have enough troubles without my adding to them."

  She laughed and coaxed him back down to her. "Perhaps it was my design to seduce you again, Ian McCain. I think perhaps I did the first time."

  "You make me feel so alive," he said, running his hand over her breasts, knowing that he wanted her again.

  She swung over on top of him, and he gasped at her bold move. "I am the dancer that steals men's hearts-did you not know?"

  He went hard again and slid into her. "Yes," he said, closing his eyes when she moved back and forth on him, "I know you've stolen mine."

  Ian lay back, watching Emerada as the morning shadows played across her beautiful face. She was like a different person now. Moments ago she had been warm and loving in his arms. Now she was in that secret place in her mind where she went in her torment. He knew she was thinking about her family.

  "Have you a plan for getting us out of here?" he asked. "You seem to manage everything else."

  Her gaze melted into his. "As it happens, I do have a plan. I have learned never to leave anything to chance."

  "And what would that be?"

  "When I did not return to Santa Anna's camp, Domingo must have guessed that I would come here, if I possibly could. If I know him, he will be here soon."

  He sat
up and looked at her in amazement. "You have a plan for everything, don't you?"

  "I have to, Ian."

  "There is still no way of talking you out of this crazy scheme with Santa Anna, is there?"

  "No."

  "I thought not. I should save my breath." He rolled to his feet, drawing an admiring glance from her. "I wouldn't want Domingo to find me with no clothes on, would I?"

  Emerada folded her arms behind her head, allowing her gaze to sweep up his muscled body. "He would kill you, I think."

  He pushed his leg into his trousers and said, "If you look at me like that, I'll throw caution to the wind and take my chances with Domingo. Or," he said, watching her carefully, "we could tell him that we are going to be married."

  She searched his face to see if he was serious. He seemed to be anticipating her answer. Oh, how she would love to be his wife, to wake up every morning in his arms. But that was never to be. The untimely death of her family haunted her, and their voices seemed to cry out to her inner soul. She would see them avenged. And Ian had his Pauline.

  She gracefully stood and shrugged her shoulders with pretended indifference. "You do not want a wife like me, Ian. I merely used you. I had to."

  He gripped her shoulders and spun her around. "What is that supposed to mean?"

  "I had to know how to please Santa Anna." She moved away from him and began to dress. "What is your opinion, Ian McCain, will he be pleased with me now? Have you taught me well?"

  He felt as though someone had just slammed a fist into his stomach. "Oh, yes," he said, with the intention of trading hurt for hurt. He swept her an exaggerated bow. "I was glad to play your stud, little dancer. You can now feel confident that you can service the dictator as well as any woman of the streets."

  She willed herself not to cry, but, oh, how deeply he had wounded her. Well, she deserved his scorn, didn't she?

  The sound of horses kept her from having to reply.

  "That will be Domingo," she said, going out the door and stepping into the sunshine.

  Faithful Domingo looked her over carefully. "I was worried when you did not return. Then when some of the soldiers came into camp leading Soledad, I came to look for you."