San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

He drew her closer to him, cradling her lovingly. "I know it hurts, my love. Try to bear it if you can."

  She looked up at him, but it was plain she didn't know who he was in the darkness. "My baby, I am going to lose my baby!" Her hand went to her stomach, and she moaned as another pain hit her. "Help my baby," she whispered.

  Ian felt as if his heart twisted violently inside him. "Oh, God, no-not the baby!"

  He would ride the horse to death if he must. He had to find help for Emerada!

  As the first streaks of gold touched the eastern horizon, Emerada was lost in a world of pain. She forgot about the pain of her arm because it felt as if her insides were being ripped out. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but it didn't help. Her cry blended with the morning wind.

  Ian watched the woman he loved more than life experience unspeakable agony, and there was nothing he could do to help her. They were still at least two hours from Talavera. He had heard of women dying in childbirth, and that was with a doctor in attendance.

  He placed his hand on her stomach and felt it move and ripple from the child inside. "Emerada, can you go on?" he asked, knowing the movement of the horse must be adding to her torment.

  She finally focused her eyes and recognized Ian. "I cannot go on. Please put me down."

  Ian nodded. He would have to deliver the baby, and he knew nothing about it whatsoever. On occasion he'd helped a mare give birth to a foal, but this was the woman he loved and his firstborn child. What if he did something wrong? And wasn't it too soon for the baby to be born?

  He dismounted and carried her to a patch of green grass and laid her down carefully. "Emerada, I'm going to help you. Don't be afraid," he assured her.

  She nodded, just as her body was gripped by another pain.

  Ian glanced upward and silently begged for divine guidance.

  Emerada stiffened and gripped his hand so hard that her fingernails dug into him. She moaned and tried not to scream, but the pain was excruciating.

  "Go ahead," Ian urged her. "Scream if you want to. No one but me will hear."

  And she did. She screamed when it felt like someone had crammed a hot poker through her body.

  Tears blinded Ian, and he knew he would never forget the sound of Emerada's scream not as long as he lived. It tore him apart inside, and he prayed the birth would not last long. The heavy hand of guilt settled on him. He was responsible for her pain because it was his baby that was causing her pain.

  When she pushed until her body trembled, he hurriedly brushed the tears from his eyes. He didn't even have water to dampen her dried and cracked lips.

  Ian had been so absorbed in helping Emerada that he hadn't heard riders approaching. When horses neighed behind him, he jumped to his feet and saw three Indians!

  He felt a flood of relief when he saw Chief Bowles with two Indian women.

  "Is this your woman, Raven's Claw?" Chief Bowles asked, dismounting.

  "Yes. She's having her baby here!"

  "Help my baby," Emerada said in a whisper. She was so weak. She could hardly voice the words.

  The chief said something to the women, and they went to Emerada. Then he motioned for Ian to follow him. "My wives will help your woman. Let us leave the birth to them. This is no place for warriors."

  Ian was doubtful about leaving Emerada with the women. "She might be afraid."

  "Not that woman, Raven's Claw. I hear things. Your woman is not soft, like other white women."

  In her world of constant pain, Emerada vaguely saw the Indian women, but she didn't care who they were; she welcomed the helping hands.

  "Please save my baby," she said weakly.

  One of them lifted her skirt and positioned her for the birth. By now the bab's head was visible, and the other woman took Emerada's hand and spoke to her soothingly, while her companion waited for Emerada to push.

  With the next agonizing push, the baby emerged into the Indian woman's capable hands. She deftly wiped the baby's face with the edge of a cloth and turned the child over her shoulder. The baby was so blue that the two women exchanged glances, fearing it might be dead.

  Suddenly Ian heard a small cry, and nothing Chief Bowles could say could keep him from running to Emerada. As he knelt beside her, the baby's cries became stronger, and unashamed tears moistened his eyes.

  Emerada's eyes were closed, and he quickly looked at the Indian women. "Is she all right?"

  Sensing his distress, they smiled and nodded. One of them handed him the baby. He glanced down at the now rosy infant and saw that he had a daughter!

  Lovingly he raised the child to his face, amazed by how tiny she was, and stunned by the sudden love that washed over him. She had come into the world kicking and screaming. She was her mother's daughter.

  Chief Bowles glanced at the child and frowned. "Do not feel bad that it is only a girl. Next time you will have a son."

  While Ian held the miracle in his arms, the chief set about fashioning a crude travois while his wives wrapped the infant in a bright yellow cloth. Chief Bowles offered Ian a leather skin of water and some dried meat. "Take your wife home, Ian McCain." Then he and his wives mounted, and the three of them disappeared as suddenly as they'd appeared.

  Emerada opened her eyes and stared at him. "Ian?"

  "Yes, my darling," he said, holding the child out for her to see. "We have a daughter. And she is as high-spirited and beautiful as her mother."

  She shook her head. "Did I dream it, or were there Indians here?"

  He laid the baby against her good arm. "You did not dream it. Our daughter was helped into the world by Chief Bowles's wives."

  She looked down at the baby. "I thought I would lose her."

  "Emerada, do you think you're strong enough to travel?"

  She nodded. "I am strong."

  He laughed as he lifted her onto the travois, which he had tied behind the horse. "Oh, yes, you are, Emerada McCain. I don't know anyone who has your strength."

  Her mind was muddled, and she just wanted to sleep. "Did you say we had a daughter?"

  "I did." He supported the baby's head, since Emerada was beginning to go limp against him. He had to get them both to Talavera as quickly as possible. He still didn't know how badly Emerada might be hurt.

  Ian reined in his panic and urged the horse forward, dragging the travois behind. He had to get help for Emerada.

  It was hours later when they reached the ranch. He saw a wagon at the stable, and Domingo was mounted on a horse. When Ian reached the stable, the big man dismounted and walked toward him in astonishment.

  "Is she all right?" Then Domingo saw all the blood. "What happened?"

  "As amazing as it sounds, Emerada gave birth to my daughter. Take the child, Domingo. I'll bring Emerada inside."

  Tenderly the big man took the tiny infant in his arms and stared at her in wonder. "I wets just leaving to hunt for Emerada."

  Emerada opened her eyes and stared at Domingo as if she'd seen a ghost. "You are alive!"

  "It takes more than a bullet to kill me," he said, grinning down at the baby as if she was the most precious creature in the world.

  Tears crept from between Emerada's eyelids and slid down her cheeks. "I thought you were lost to me, Domingo."

  At that moment Hank and Sara came out of the stable, and Ian explained what had happened. "I'll have to lift her carefully. Her arm's broken."

  "It's lucky for everyone concerned that I chose today to deliver the supplies Emerada ordered," Hank said in amazement. "I can't wait to hear what happened, Colonel."

  Sara took the baby from Domingo and walked toward the barn. "Men," she murmured. "Make me a bed for Emerada, and I'll want lots of water, warm enough to bathe them both." She turned around and looked at the three men. "Well, what are you waiting for? Do it now!"

  Ian glanced at Hank, and the innkeeper grinned. "I found me a gem in her. We're gonna get married."

  Ian nodded wearily. "I believe we'd better do what she asked. You know how women are
when they're riled."

  Since Emerada couldn't be moved again, a bed and mattress had been brought from town for her. Sara had taken over her care and that of the baby.

  Ian sent for a doctor from Victoria, and he pronounced both mother and daughter healthy. He told Emerada that Ian had done well in setting her arm. He laughingly told her that if word got around about the Indian women delivering babies, he might lose his practice to them.

  Emerada had not seen Ian to thank him for all he'd done for her. He'd been gone for three days and was supposed to return to Talavera today.

  Emerada glanced down at her daughter, happy to acknowledge that she had Ian's blue eyes.

  "She is a miracle, Sara," Emerada said, kissing the soft cheek of her sleeping daughter.

  "That she is," Sara agreed, "and not the first babe to find shelter in a stable. I can't imagine what you went through, delivering this child under such primitive circumstances. I don't know if I could be that strong."

  Emerada smiled at Sara. In a very short time, they had become fond of each other. "If you do not have a choice, you can do anything, Sara."

  Sara had been brushing Emerada's hair, and she laid the brush aside. "You haven't asked me about Pauline, and I know you must be curious."

  "I have not asked because I do not want to know."

  "She went back to Virginia."

  "Oh." Emerada lay back against the pillow. Now that the baby was born, she would give Ian his freedom, and he could go to Virginia to get Pauline. Emerada heard the sound of wagons and men talking, and she was confused.

  "Sara, what is happening out there?"

  "Why don't you ask your husband?" Sara answered, smiling and moving away as Ian approached.

  Ian's eyes were so brilliant that Emerada lowered hers. "Ian, I'm glad you came so I could thank you for all you did. My daughter and I owe you our lives."

  He knelt down beside her and placed his hand on the small head that was covered with black hair. The baby looked right at him, and he felt a lump forming in his throat. "She is so amazing, this daughter of mine."

  Emerada glanced up at him. "You know I wasn't truthful to you about-"

  He reached forward and placed a kiss on her lips, silencing her. "Let that be the last time either of us is not completely honest with the other."

  She was puzzled. "Very well." At that moment there was a loud noise just outside. It sounded like someone stacking lumber. "Ian, can you tell me what's happening out there?"

  "Of course. Workers are unloading supplies."

  "What kind of supplies?"

  "To build a house."

  She tried to sit up, but she turned her arm wrong and decided to remain still. "I gave no such orders."

  "I did. Let me tell you about what I want to do for you. If you approve, the building will begin immediately."

  The baby grabbed the finger Ian held out to her. He laughed and kissed the tiny hand. Emerada's heart swelled with love for the man who had given her this daughter, and it seemed he loved the child.

  "Tell me what you are doing with the lumber," she said in a voice that trembled with emotion.

  "I reasoned that you wouldn't want to build a house where the first one burned. So if you have no objections, I thought we could have a garden there-a place with flowers and fountains. A place dedicated to the memory of your family."

  Her eyes widened. "Why would you do that for me?"

  "Let me finish. Do you know that place on the hill with all the oak trees, where you can see the entire valley?"

  "Si. I know the place."

  "What would you think about our building the house there? I have brought plans for you to look at. But I thought we'd keep to the Spanish style. What do you think?"

  She wrinkled her brow in thought. "Ian, we said that we would always be honest with each other, and I will not have this lie between us. I know that you love Pauline, and that the two of you would have been married if not for me. I do not want you to devote yourself to a life you would grow to detest. I want you to have your freedom."

  He scooped up his daughter and carried her outside to Sara, who was supervising the men. Then he came back, and shut and locked the door. He sat down beside Emerada and took her hand. "There are too many people around here, and I want to talk to you undisturbed."

  She knew what was coming, and she dreaded hearing it. Please, she thought sadly, don't let him tell me how much he loves Pauline. "I know you are an honorable man, Ian. And I know that you would stay married to me for the baby's sake. But I do not want to have a husband who loves another woman."

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Would you have any objections to having a husband who can't think of anything but you from sunup to sundown? Would you object to having a husband who loves you with every breath he takes?" He raised her chin and gazed deeply into her eyes. "Would you mind that so much, Emerada?"

  "But I thought..." She shook her head. "I thought you loved the golden-haired American."

  "You couldn't be more mistaken," he said, his gaze sweeping across her face, his eyes moist. "God help me, because I lost my heart to a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty who is obstinate, brave, stubborn, compassionate, and very, very desirable."

  She was still afraid to believe him. "We said we would be honest with each other."

  "I have just opened my heart to you, Emerada." His voice deepened, and he lay down so he was beside her. "I don't know if I fell in love with you that first day you landed in my arms, or the night you danced your way into my heart. I only know that I love you, Emerada."

  A lone tear trailed down her cheek. "How can that be?"

  He breathed in the fresh scent of her and took her in his arms. "You know I love you, but I don't know how you feel about me."

  She moved back so she could see his eyes. "Oh, Ian, I have loved you for so long-at least it seems a long time. I know the seeds of love began to grow in my heart that very first day when I stumbled into your arms. Each time I saw you, the love became deeper and deeper. Then I learned I was going to have your baby."

  She attempted to put her arms around him and then laughingly drew away when the splint on her broken arm became wedged between them.

  His voice deepened. "Hurry and get well, Emerada. I want to show you just how much I love you."

  She laughed, feeling happiness for the first time in so long. "Ian, I wonder what they are all thinking out there with us locked in here?"

  "They're thinking I'm one damned lucky man. I have captured the San Antonio Rose for my wife." He pulled back and looked at her. "From now on, you dance only for me-understood?"

  She parted her lips and waited for his kiss. "Understood. I dance only for my husband."

  Emerada stood beneath the spreading branches of a live oak tree, gazing lovingly out on Talavera. From her vantage point, she could see fat cattle grazing in the pasture and spirited horses galloping around a fenced grassland.

  A warm breeze touched her cheek and rippled through her hair. Talavera had come back to life-Ian had done that for her.

  Her gaze went to the garden, where the previous ranch house had stood. The blackened ruins no longer scarred the land. In the garden were exotic trees and plants and flowers of every color. There were three fountains, many marble benches, and a giant angel monument like the one that stood guard by her Aunt Dilena's grave in New Orleans. On the base of the monument the names of her father and brothers were carved. Ian had kept his promise to her. He had given her a place to heal, a place to sit and remember the wonderful things about her father and brothers, and not how they died.

  She turned to the huge, white, Spanish-style hacienda that sprawled among the trees. With its fountains, courtyards, and cool tile floors, it was so beautiful. But more than that, it was a home where love dwelled.

  She could hear her daughter laughing in the courtyard while she was watched over by her ninera. No doubt Domingo was keeping a watchful eye on the child as well, just as he'd done with Emerada.

&nb
sp; Life was good. Her days were filled with such happiness that she could hardly bear it.

  She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Ian approach. She rushed into his arms, and he held her to his heart.

  "Mr. McCain, shouldn't you be supervising the branding?"

  "I'm no use to the foreman. I can't keep my mind on what I'm doing."

  She gazed into his wonderful eyes. "And why is that?"

  He looked at her rakishly. "Because I was thinking how I'd like to take you to bed."

  She laughed and turned back to gaze at the valley. "What a wonderful mind you have, Mr. McCain."

  He rested his chin on the top of her head. "I had a letter from Mother today."

  "How is she?"

  "She wants to come for another visit," he said hesitantly, not knowing how Emerada would feel about another visit, because it would be his mothers third in two years. "It seems she has a great fondness for Texas."

  "Why do you not have her move here? She needs to be near her family, and we need her. I love your mother, Ian."

  He looked at her in surprise. "Do you really mean that?"

  "I can assure you that I do. She is so gentle, and life has not always been kind to her."

  He laughed to hide the tightness in his throat. "What were you doing when I came up, Emerada, surveying all your kingdom?"

  "I was numbering my blessings. I have so many."

  He smiled down at her. "Am I one of your blessings?"

  She pressed her lips against his, and his arms tightened. "You are the most important one," she said in a throaty voice.

  He gazed at her in wonder. "Why is it, Emerada, that all you have to do is look at me with those melting brown eyes and I want to take you to bed?" He pressed her tighter to him, and she laughed, pulled away.

  "That would explain why I am expecting again."

  He pulled back, his eyes glowing with warmth. "Are you sure?"

  "Of course. A woman knows these things."

  He placed his hands on each side of her face and drew her to him, kissing her gently.

  They had built a home and a life on this Texas land. They would have strong sons and happy daughters. Their roots would reach deep into the soil and heal all old wounds. Their love would nourish and grow beneath the blue Texas sky.