Emerada turned to Ian. "You can take my horse, and I will ride with Domingo."
The big man reached down and lifted her up behind him, eyeing Ian all the while.
Ian pushed his boot into the stirrup and mounted. "I will inform Houston that I did my duty to you," he said coldly, kicking the horse into a gallop.
"That man is never very polite," Domingo observed.
Emerada leaned her head forward against her faithful Domingo's back. "I hurt him badly. I doubt he will ever look at me again."
"And this matters to you?"
"It matters very much."
Domingo silently urged the horse forward. There was something different about Emerada, and he didn't yet know what it was. Whatever it was, it involved Colonel Ian McCain, of that he was certain.
When Emerada rode through Santa Anna's camp, most of the men were having their siesta. There were only a few sentries on duty, and they passed her through with the usual friendly greeting.
Moments later she entered Santa Anna's tent and stood before him with a forced smile. He had been writing at his folding desk and glanced up at her, his face etched with anger.
"Excellency," she said, feigning excitement. "Each day you move closer to General Houston. Soon you will have him cornered, and he will have nowhere to run. Then you can crush him!"
Santa Anna made a gesture dismissing his aide and waited for him to leave before he spoke. "Why do you speak to me so formally, Emerada?"
She lowered her gaze. "Sometimes I am overwhelmed by your magnificence and it is difficult to do otherwise."
He picked up a penknife and ran his finger down the sharp blade. "Emerada, have you seen what happens to those who deceive me?" His dark gaze pierced hers. "It is not a pleasant sight. Just because you are a woman that will not stay my hand from your punishment."
She rushed to him, going down on her knees, thinking what a great actress she had become-rather than humble herself before him, she would like to grab that penknife and shove it into his murderous heart.
"Antonio, you cannot think I would deceive you." She took the hand that held the knife and pressed it against her breast. "If you believe this, end my suffering now."
He dropped the knife and gathered her to him. "Beautiful one, why do you torment me so? I want you-you know I do." His lips pressed against her cheek. "Where do you go when you leave me? And why have you not yet come to my bed?"
She closed her eyes to hide her disgust. The man who had murdered her family was about to make love to her. She prayed she could get through it without clawing his eyes out.
"Antonio, I am here now."
She saw passion in his eyes, but she also saw doubt. She would have to go through with it this time if she was going to allay his suspicions.
"Where do you go when you are away?" he asked in a commanding voice, suddenly shoving her away. "I want you to stay with me."
"I thought you knew that a dancer must practice every day. I cannot practice with so many men around, so I go off by myself."
"This is what your man, Domingo, told me."
Emerada felt no regret about lying to this man. "It is true. A good dancer will never neglect her duty to her art." Her arms slid around his shoulders. "And I am a good dancer, Antonio."
Excitement showed in his dark eyes. "Dance for me now."
She licked her lips and parted them. "If that is your wish. But we have no music."
His hand moved over her breast, and his lips covered hers. She had every reason to believe this was a man who knew how to seduce and please a woman, but not her-never her!
Emerada playfully pushed him away and stood, releasing her hair so it flowed about her shoulders. She was amazed at how easily she had manipulated the dictator.
"I need no music to dance for the Napoleon of the West."
His gaze raked over her, and she could see that he was excited. She prayed she could make it a long dance.
"General," his aide called out, rushing into the tent.
Santa Anna jumped to his feet, a murderous glint in his eyes. "How dare you come into my tent without permission? I will have you stripped of rank for this!"
Emerada could not believe her good fortune. She'd been rescued from giving herself to Santa Anna. With pity, she watched the aide explain his outburst. But the man seemed undaunted, so she suspected he must be accustomed to Santa Anna's unpredictable temperament.
"But, Excellency, you told me to let you know the moment the Americans are on the move again. Houston has broken camp."
Santa Anna turned to Emerada regretfully. "I am sorry, my dear. But I must attend to my duty. You will forgive me?"
"Of course." She moved to the opening and turned back to him, smiling. "Until later, Antonio." Then she hurried out of the tent, happy to have escaped his impassioned advances yet again.
Emerada lingered near Santa Anna's tent with the pretense of lacing her boots. A guard approached her and spoke apologetically. "I am sorry, senorita, but you must move away from the presidents tent."
She looked at the man and raised her skirt to her knees. "You would not want me to trip on the laces, would you, Captain?"
The man swallowed hard and shook his head, his eyes on her shapely legs. "No, senorita."
Santa Anna's angry voice could be plainly heard by her and the captain. "Imbecile! You dare to interrupt me when I am entertaining the San Antonio Rose!"
"Excellency, I had to! It is believed that Houston intends to use the ferry at the San Jacinto River to elude our army. I suggest that we move at once to intercept the enemy forces."
"We have him!" Santa Anna shouted. "The coward will not stop running until he reaches the border. But we will be there to stop his retreat."
Emerada could imagine Santa Anna bent over his map, and she heard him speak to his aide. "Order the camp struck at once. We rendezvous at the San Jacinto River. I will have Houston trapped between the river, here-and Buffalo Bayou, here. There will be nowhere for him to run!"
Emerada dropped her skirt and gave the captain another smile. Then she walked away with her hips swaying, trying to impart a casual demeanor. When she was out of sight, she hurried to find Domingo.
Houston must be warned at once!
Ian's uniform was splattered with mud. He unfastened his buckle and removed his saber. The skirmish with the Mexican patrol on the road to Harrisburg had felt good. He and the five men under his command had left seven of the enemy dead and taken five more prisoners, while none of his men had even a scratch.
Ian had just unbuttoned his shirt when his tent flap was pushed open and Emerada entered.
"Where is Houston?" she asked hurriedly, trying not to look at his bare chest or remember what it felt like to run her fingers over the dark hair there.
His glance locked with hers. "He is out with a patrol."
"I must see him at once. Take me to him."
He sat down on the edge of his cot and began removing his muddy boots. "Can't. I don't know which way he went."
"Send someone to find him."
He dropped his boots and stood. "You'll just have to tell me or wait for the general to return."
She stalked toward him and tapped her finger angrily against his chest. "Then you had better find out where he is and get him back here. Santa Anna is on the move, and he knows where you Eire!"
"Is that supposed to scare me?"
"You had better be scared. He has twenty-five hundred men at his disposal. How many do you have, Ian McCain?"
He captured her hand and held it in a tight grip. "You know something I've noticed about you, Emerada? When you are angry with me, you use my whole name."
"I am angry. I have waited a long time for Santa Anna to come up against Houston's forces." She jerked her hand free. "I will just have to find Houston myself." She moved to the opening and was about to leave, when he took her by the shoulder and spun her around.
"You have us all dancing to your tune, don't you, little dancer? Me, Houston, and Sa
nta Anna."
"This is no time to argue, Ian. Santa Anna is coming, and you have to stop him!"
His hand dropped away. "Tell me about it," he said at last.
"Do you have a map?"
He went to the camp table, found his map, and unrolled it.
She studied it for a moment and then jabbed her finger on a point. "Mark this well so you can relate it to Houston-Santa Anna intends to trap the Texas army between the San Jacinto River here, and Buffalo Bayou, here."
Ian nodded. "A good plan. No one ever said Santa Anna didn't have the heart of a general."
"You would do well not to underestimate Santa Anna." She walked away from him and turned before she left. "Tell Houston I will do everything I can to keep Santa Anna occupied."
"If anyone can do it, you can," he said almost too casually.
She could tell by his expression that he'd like to say more, but she didn't have time to listenshe had to get back. "Tell Houston I will not be able to contact him again. It's too dangerous. Already Santa Anna is suspicious." She pushed the flap aside. "Good luck, Ian McCain. Take care of yourself." She felt ripped apart by sadness, just thinking about him going into battle. "Do not let anything happen to you."
She rushed outside, half hoping that Ian would come after her, but he didn't.
Ian was in torment, thinking of Emerada in the hands of a man like Santa Anna. If any of them were in danger, it was she, and there was nothing he could do to help her. He reached for one of his boots and shoved his foot into it.
"God keep you safe, my darling," he whispered, knowing they could all be dead by tomorrow.
Emerada rode away swiffly, knowing that this time she had only a three-hour ride to reach Santa Anna's camp.
The two forces were coming closer together, and she didn't hold much hope that Houston could beat Santa Anna.
Covered by a long black cape, Emerada moved through the Mexican camp on her way to Santa Anna's tent. She could feel the apprehension running through the camp; the soldiers were alert and preparing for a final engagement with the Texas army.
She felt great sorrow in her heart, knowing the fate of Tejas would be decided in a matter of hours, on this very spot. She was still not certain that Houston could win when Santa Anna's force outnumbered him two to one. But she was going to do everything she could to give Houston the advantage.
When she reached Santa Anna's tent, she told the guard she wanted to see the president. He disappeared inside, and moments later Santa Anna himself greeted her and led her inside.
"My dear, you must have sensed I needed you on this eve of battle. Come and comfort me."
There were five officers present, and each one bowed gallantly to her, while their bold eyes appreciated her beauty.
"If you are occupied, I could come back later," she said, turning as though to leave.
Santa Anna took her hand and raised it to his lips, his eyes lingering on hers. "No, stay. We are all but finished here."
Santa Anna seated her on a stool and turned to the others. "Keep the men alert and double the guard. I want no surprises."
Emerada laughed in delight-or she hoped it sounded that way. "Is there really any reason to double the guards? It is not likely that Houston, with his ragtag lot, will attack us. Even he could not be so foolish."
Her voice held a challenge, and Santa Anna examined her eyes to see if there was any mockery there. Sometimes he wasn't sure whether she was goading him, or if she just had a playful nature. "What do you suggest?" he asked.
"It is not for me to say, Excellency," Emerada answered. "But if the men are to be prepared for a battle tomorrow, should they not rest now?" Her laughter was infectious, and his officers joined in. "Houston would have to stop running from you before he could attack, Antonio."
"She is right," one of the officers agreed. "It is unlikely that we will be set upon by a coward."
Santa Anna considered for a moment, and then he nodded. "Houston has displayed his cowardice for all to laugh at him." He turned to his officer. "Have the men stand down, rest, and prepare for tomorrow. Go to it, now. All of you, out!"
After the officers saluted and departed, Santa Anna turned to Emerada. "And how shall I prepare for tomorrow?"
Emerada realized that Houston and Santa Anna were on their final collision course, and Houston needed her help. This was her day of reckoning, and she knew what she must do. She smiled up at Santa Anna. "I am here to see to your pleasure. Would you like that, Antonio?"
His eyes gleamed. "Is this the day I have waited for, Emerada?"
She sauntered up to him and tossed her head, giving him a seductive look. "This is the day I promised I would give you, Senor Presidente. This will be a day you will never forget."
He trembled with pleasure. "Why do you wear that heavy cape? Take it off and come into my arms."
"Not just yet," she said, going to the opening and speaking to someone just outside. "Play softly the songs I told you to play, and do not stop until I tell you to. And," she said, raising her voice so it would carry, "el Presidente does not want to be disturbed for any reason-do you understand?"
Santa Anna looked quizzical when he heard the strains of a plaintive tune strummed on a guitar. He watched Emerada drop her cape, and he lost his breath when he saw her skimpy costume. Her gown was made of gauzy yellow material that he could see through, and she was wearing almost nothing underneath and wore no shoes upon her feet.
She snapped her fingers, threw back her head so her midnight-colored hair swung to her waist. She inched toward him, then danced just out of reach.
"I have never danced this dance for anyone else," she said as she moved her hips. "It was taught to me by a Gypsy woman from the Romany tribe. It is said that this very dance was performed before Napoleon himself. How fitting that I should dance the dance for you, since you are the Napoleon of the West."
Santa Anna could not tear his eyes away from the beautiful woman he'd so long desired. With his heart leaping in his chest, he sucked air into his lungs. He was so overcome by the sensuous way she moved her hips that he could not speak.
Emerada's hands arched over her head, weaving, hypnotizing, enticing. She wondered how long it would take Santa Anna to tire of her dance and insist on more from her.
Emerada forced a smile to her lips while she circled, almost touching him and then pulling back.
In Emerada's mind, she was dancing for Ian. She did not see the dictators dark gaze, but Ian's blue eyes. She would probably never see him again, but that was the way it had to be. Ian would never want to touch her after she gave Santa Anna everything he wanted in order to keep him distracted.
Santa Anna moved to the bed and began to unbutton his tunic. "Dance, Emerada, dance," he said in a husky voice. "Dance only for me."
The Texas army came soundlessly across the prairie, under the cover of tall grass. They were so near the Mexican encampment that they could hear an occasional voice.
Ian led a group of cavalrymen, and he, like everyone else, expected to be met by strong resistance, but so far there was none. When they were within two hundred yards, they were discovered and a warning cry went up-but it was too late for the unfortunate Mexicans, who had been caught resting, with only a few guards on duty.
With a vengeance, the Texas army swooped down upon them, slashing and cutting their way through the camp.
Santa Anna had just pulled Emerada onto the bed with him when the first shots rang out. "What is happening?" he cried, jumping to his feet and running to the tent opening.
Emerada reached for her cape and draped it about her shoulders. "I would think, Senor Presidente, that would be General Houston."
"This was not supposed to happen. Is Houston crazy?" His eyes darted about the tent as he looked for a weapon.
"Si," Emerada replied, with joy singing in her heart. "Houston is loco like a fox."
Santa Anna was too distracted to notice the sarcasm in Emerada's voice. The gunfire intensified, and he slid his feet
into red Moroccan slippers and moved toward his pistol. "I must flee at once! I cannot fall into Houston's hands. He will kill me!"
Emerada moved slowly toward Santa Anna; her hand reached for the dagger that had been concealed in a secret pocket inside her cape. "No, he will not kill you." She had almost reached him, and was prepared to bury her dagger in his heart, when one of his officers burst in.
"Presidente, I must get you away quickly," the man said, his eyes wide with horror. "The Americans have overrun the camp, and they will come straight for you. I have brought you something to wear so if they do see you, they will not know who you are."
"There is no time to change. Let us go now!" Santa Anna mumbled, grabbing up the clothes. "Come, Emerada, you must come with us."
She tried not to smile. Houston had done it! Now it would be Santa Anna who was running!
Santa Anna ran from the tent, and Emerada watched him mount a horse and ride in the opposite direction from the fighting. "You will not get far," she called out, but he didn't hear her. He was heading toward the swamps.
Emerada gazed about her while bullets whizzed past her head. This was not what she wanted, to see all those brave Mexican soldiers being cut down while their presidente ran like the coward he was.
Domingo rode up, leading her mount. "It is time to leave, Emerada," he said, his eyes filled with sadness.
She swung onto the horse, and they rode away from the scene of death and destruction. There was no happiness in her heart, only a heaviness that invaded her mind. She had helped set this in motion when she'd first pitted her wit against Santa Anna's, and now she must live with the consequences.
The Texans-as most of them now insisted on being called-had won in the most one-sided battle ever fought. They had killed or captured a force twice their size, with only two casualties and seventeen wounded.
One of the wounded was General Sam Houston.
With Domingo at her side, Emerada pushed her way through the throng of prisoners, searching for Santa Anna.
"He has to be here," she said frantically. "This can't all have been for nothing. He will be dressed as a peasant."
San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) Page 15
