Renegade Love (Rancheros)

by Fletcher, Donna

  When she heard a light snore from Esteban, she smiled and slowly worked her way out of his arms. She slipped into her clothes quickly and just before she was about to leave the room, she stopped. She quietly tiptoed to the chest where her drawing material lay and carefully gathered it together and finally scooted out the doors, closing them silently behind her.

  She chose the garden not far from her bedchamber, knowing Esteban would no doubt come searching for her once he woke. She settled herself beneath a large, double-trunk oak tree, its wide, lower branches providing adequate shade against the bright sun.

  As soon as she began to sketch, her mind began to ease and it wasn’t long before all thoughts faded and she became lost in drawing.

  That was how Esteban found her a couple of hours later, sitting under the tree, several drawings surrounding her while she busily worked on another one. When he woke he had been disappointed she hadn’t been there beside him. He had worried where she had gone off to and had rushed to dress and go find her.

  He called out as he approached her. “I’ve been searching for you.”

  Her head shot up and she smiled. “And you have found me.”

  He sat beside her in the shade, picking up one drawing after another to admire. “These are beautiful. You are quite talented.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Didn’t I tell you not to go anywhere without my permission,” he said and rested his back against the thick tree trunk.

  “I am safe, I am home and I will always return home.”

  “That’s what I thought when I was captured, and it took me sixteen years to return home.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Rosa turned quietly to face her husband, hoping he would talk about his time with Pacquito and hoping by doing so he would help purge his past and release his pain.

  “Every day I thought about escaping,” Esteban said, “but it was difficult when Pacquito kept a rope around my neck and led me around like some animal. Now and then he’d remove the rope and I would attempt to escape. It took several efforts and whippings for me to realize that I was doing exactly what he wanted me to do. Pacquito enjoys beating people and he does it until he has the person begging for mercy, though he rarely gives it.”

  He grew silent and Rosa worried that he would say no more. She almost sighed aloud when he continued.

  “I also learned fast that if I showed the slightest inclination of attachment to anyone or thing, Pacquito would...” His features grew stern, as if he was steeling himself against the horrific memories, and he turned his head away for a moment.

  Rosa did not want to imagine the endless cruelty that Pacquito must have put him through. It was no wonder he found it difficult to form any attachment. Caring had cost him severe pain.

  “Pacquito’s men are cold, heartless, bas—” he stopped. “His men obey or else.”

  She wanted to ask the one question that was on everyone’s mind. Why did he wait so long to escape such a hell? But she didn’t know if the time was right. He was just beginning to open up to her and share his past. She didn’t want to take the chance that he would turn silent and say no more. So she kept the question to herself, for now.

  He stared at her a moment, as if debating with himself to continue and, then said, “Pacquito provided his men with women, he insisted on it, and they weren’t always willing ones. He would make each of his men take a woman, on her hands and knees, in front of everyone. Sometimes he would take the woman first, and then the man would have her afterwards.” He shook his head. “Refusing wasn’t an option, unless one wanted to be beaten unmercifully and forced to do it anyway.”

  The repulsive image sent a chill through her and her pain for him grew. “I cannot imagine the horror of being forced to go against one’s nature to survive. It must have been horrendous for you.”

  Most women would have run away from him by now and would never want to be defiled by his touch again. It had been the very reason why he had no intentions of ever telling his wife about it. Yet somehow he had felt the need to confess to her. Perhaps he had wanted to give her a chance to run away from him. Or perhaps he wanted no secrets between them. He wanted her to know everything about him, no matter how high the cost. And yet here she sat not only offering comfort, but believing that he was a good man forced to do an evil deed to survive. But how long would she believe in him with the more she learned?

  “The horror is that that isn’t the worst of it.”

  She shocked him even more when she rested her hand on his and said, “Then it is good that you are finally home and away from such evil. Now you can finally be free to be the good man you truly are.”

  How could she still believe him a good man when he had done such horrible things? And yet here she sat with a look of sympathy for him rather than disgust. But what if he told her... “There was an old woman,” —sadness filled his eyes— “Lequita. She tended my wounds, snuck me food, and encouraged me to be brave. She...”

  This time when he paused, Rosa knew he wouldn’t continue. It was as if he suddenly locked his memories away, and she wondered what had happened that caused him to not want to remember.

  The urge to make love to her overwhelmed him or perhaps he simply wanted to know if she would now abhor his touch and the mere mention of intimacy. He was about to find out when she spoke and he felt a sense of relief. Was he that worried that she would deny him? Or was he more worried that he would not let her? His wife had become a tonic to his soul that he could not do without.

  “May I draw you?”

  “Have your way with me,” he said and settled comfortably against the tree trunk.

  “Later,” she said with a slight blush, “for now I’ll draw you.”

  Esteban never showed emotion, so it always pleased Rosa when she got an unexpected reaction from him. His brow scrunched and he tilted his head slightly, as if he wasn’t certain that he had heard her correctly.

  She quickly turned to gather her drawing materials, though mostly to hide the smile that she couldn’t stop from surfacing.

  She yelped when his arm coiled around her waist and he yanked her onto his lap.

  “Give me a sample of later,” he whispered in her ear.

  The privacy of their bedroom was one thing, but here in the open where anyone could see them. She felt her body flush with heat that she should be so daring. Without further thought she turned her head to claim his lips in a hungrier kiss than she thought possible.

  He returned it with just as much passion, his hand easing his way up her blouse to settle gently over one breast.

  She startled at his tender touch, her nipple hardening as soon as his finger grazed it and she wished it was his mouth that teased it. As usual she was already wet and ready for him and he no doubt was the same since he grew harder and harder against her.

  Light laughter and voices broke them reluctantly apart, though Esteban kept a firm arm around her waist so that she could not move off his lap.

  When Dona Valerianna and Padre Marten rounded the corner and caught sight of them, Rosa flushed with embarrassment. Dona Valerianna did the same while Esteban glared.

  “Is there something I can do for you, Padre?” he asked curtly.

  The padre cleared his throat nervously as if he was about to give a sermon, and then shook his head, thinking better of it and said, “No, nothing,” —then with a sudden change of mind added— “though I would suggest that you do your wife and you a favor and seek confession so that Rosa and you may once again attend Mass.”

  “Believe me, Padre, there would be no absolution for my sins,” Esteban said.

  “As you say, Esteban.” The padre acknowledged with a slight bow of his head. “Now I must be going.”

  Dona Valerianna ushered him away with a promise of a basket of fruit fresh from the orchards.

  Esteban turned stern eyes on his wife. “Don’t think to convince me to seek confession and save my soul. You will waste your breath.”

  “The
re is no point to seek confession... yet.”

  “Yet?”

  She nodded. “God will know you are ready for absolution when first you forgive yourself.”

  “Forgive myself for what, for allowing myself to be turned into a beast?”

  Rosa placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “For surviving.”

  “At what cost? At least in death there would have been honor.”

  “You survived a brutal capture and returned home, you think there is no honor in that?”

  “The cost was too great.”

  “If you truly thought that, then you would have perished many years ago.”

  His wife was far more perceptive than he realized. The same thought had haunted him through the years. Why had he fought so hard to survive? The answer had always been the same. No matter what it took, he had wanted to return home to his family. And he finally had, only to find the impossible... a wife that loved him.

  The urge to make love to his wife returned with a vengeance, perhaps because it was the one way, or the only way, he had of showing how much he... damn, but he loved her. Yet he fought against it, knowing that in the end his love for her would only bring her pain. And that was an inconceivable thought to him. He would not see her suffer, and so he would not let anyone know that he loved her more and more each day.

  Rosa broke the silence with a tender kiss to his cheek. “Let me draw you.” She didn’t wait for his consent. She slipped off his lap and he let her go.

  He sat in silence listening to the sound of graphite against paper and the sometime rustle of leaves when a warm breeze swept down around them. He hadn’t known such contentment in a long time and before he realized it, his eyes drifted closed and he fell asleep.

  Rosa didn’t disturb her husband. He needed to rest and she didn’t need his eyes open to draw him accurately. She knew his eyes by heart, and so she continued to draw.

  Esteban rode his horse hard and fast. He had to get to his wife. She was gone and he couldn’t find her. No matter where he went, where he searched, he couldn’t find her. His heart pounded in his chest and his fear mounted. He knew who had her and he knew he’d have to kill him to free her. He heard her scream his name over and over and he rode faster and faster getting nowhere.

  “Esteban. Esteban,” Rosa said, trying to wake her husband from an obvious nightmare, though having difficulty.

  He woke with a start, springing forward away from the tree.

  Rosa quickly placed her cheek to his and whispered, “I’m here with you. It’s all right.”

  He buried his face in the crook of her neck letting the warmth of her skin erase the chilling fear that ran through him. The scent of fresh fruit tickled his senses and he smiled. She was forever in the orchard picking fruit and the sweet scent always lingered on her skin. But it was her words that had soothed him the most.

  She was there with him and everything was all right... unless Pacquito got a hold of her.

  He brought his head up and took hold of her chin and was about to tell her that she would go nowhere without him when she kissed him. It wasn’t a gentle kiss but a demanding one, as if her urge for him was too great to ignore and it more than aroused him. It turned him rock hard.

  It took only a moment for him to realize that if he didn’t get her to their bedchamber they would be stripping each other bare right here where anyone could come upon them.

  He got to his feet taking her with him, since she refused to let go of him and as he did he caught sight of the drawing she had done of him. The full impact of it halted him in his tracks and with an arm around her waist he leaned down and scooped it up.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off himself. She had not only captured his features perfectly, but she had captured the war of emotions that lay so deep beneath the surface; pain, anger, guilt, misery, and what he had never let anyone see... a hint of hope. She had known it was there. She had seen it when no one else had.

  “You are complex,” she said on a wistful breath and smiled, “but I love you anyway.”

  She was aware of his faults, perhaps better than he was and yet she loved him in spite of them. Was this real or was he still dreaming?

  He leaned down and kissed her and when their lips met with loving urgency he knew it wasn’t a dream. He soon had her up in his arms and was about to rush off with her to their bedchamber when his father called out his name.

  Esteban silently cursed the man and placed his wife on her feet, though kept hold of her.

  When Don Alejandro came into view, Esteban knew that he was not bringing good news.

  “Another hacienda has been attacked. You must come with me so that they see that you were home with your family and had nothing to do with it.”

  “They will blame me anyway,” Esteban argued.

  “Possibly, but if you make the effort there is a chance some may see it differently.

  Rosa laid a hand on her husband’s chest. “Your father is right. It is best you go and see what you can do for your neighbors and friends.” She reached up to kiss his cheek and whispered, “I will wait most impatiently for your return.”

  “In bed naked is where I want to find you,” he murmured in her ear and gave it a slight nip.

  She shivered, and he kissed her quickly.

  “Rosa, please see to Dona Valerianna. She is quite upset by the news,” Don Alejandro said.

  With that the three entered the hacienda, going separate ways once inside, though not before Esteban gave his wife another kiss. He didn’t want to leave her, but he had no choice. He knew going with his father would not end the problem. It was only the beginning of troubles that lay ahead.

  A few hours later suppertime came and the men had still not returned. Dona Valerianna excused herself from the meal saying she wasn’t hungry, and Rosa could not blame her since she wasn’t either.

  Before going to her quarters Dona Valerianna uncharacteristically gave Rosa a hug and said, “Thank you.”

  “For what?” Rosa asked.

  “For being you.”

  Rosa wasn’t sure what she meant. Sometimes she had felt she didn’t know who she was and having learned that she actually hadn’t been who she thought she was helped explain that. But now, being Esteban’s wife had changed things again and she liked who she was becoming.

  Rosa meandered through the hacienda eager for her husband to return. She loved spending time with him. She had so enjoyed sketching him out in the garden today and she intended to sketch more portraits of him until she found one that suited him best, and then she would paint him.

  She wandered back to the front parlor, but her husband had yet to return. She was about to retire to their bedchamber to wait naked in bed for him when she heard raised voices approaching. They quickly turned to shouts by the time Esteban and his father entered the house.

  “It is common knowledge that you disappear at times,” Don Alejandro said. “You could have made it easy on all concerned and when asked told everyone where you go.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I tell them. They believe that I serve Pacquito and do his bidding.”

  “Then tell them they are wrong. Tell them the truth,” his father argued.

  “Do you know the truth, Father?”

  “I know my son is a good man and would not bring harm to his neighbors and friends.”

  Esteban appreciated his father’s confidence in him, though he doubted others felt the same. “But do our neighbors and friends believe that or do they believe that I still run with the renegades and help them wreak havoc on their homes?”

  “Address their concerns so there will be no doubt. Tell them you are negotiating with Pacquito.”

  Esteban burst out laughing. “Negotiate with Pacquito? There is no negotiating with Pacquito. You do what he says or die.”

  His father paled. “Then why do you go see him?”

  “I don’t go see him.”

  “Then where do you go? Who do you see?” his father demanded.

 
“To find the only man Pacquito fears... hijo del Diablo.”

  Dona Valerianna gasped as she emerged from an open doorway and blessed herself twice as she said, “Son of the Devil.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “You cannot think to seek help from the devil,” Don Alejandro said helping his wife to the parlor to sit and where they all could talk. “He will want your soul for it.”

  Rosa reached out to take hold of her husband’s arm and was relieved when he slipped it around her waist to tuck her against him. He was finally beginning to heal from his descent into hell and she would not allow him to be swallowed by it again.

  “Your father is right, Esteban,” his mother said. “The devil will claim your soul.”

  Esteban looked to his father, and then his mother, and with a coldness that chilled the room said, “I lost my soul a long time ago.”

  He waited to see his wife’s reaction and tightened his arm around her when she drew closer against him, as if letting him know that she would not leave his side, though he couldn’t help but wonder if she would regret it.

  His mother gasped and blessed herself again.

  Don Alejandro shook his head. “There must be another way to deal with Pacquito.”

  “Pacquito is a loathsome and cunning man. He’s impossible to track or to find, as you well know, Father.”

  Don Alejandro’s head drooped in despair. “I tried so hard to find you.”

  “I never doubted you did, but Pacquito knows this land better than anyone and he blends with the land like nothing I’ve seen before. You never hear or see him approach until it’s too late. There is only one man whose skills far surpass his and when hijo del Diablo appeared that day in camp—”