San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) (26 page)

She pounded her pillow, making a hollow for
her head. "I will love this baby enough for two
parents," she vowed.

She blew out the lamp and settled into the
soft bed. She wondered if the child would have
its father's wonderful eyes.

Oh, please, she thought, feeling warmth surround her heart, let this child have Ian's beautiful
blue eyes.

October

Emerada was restless. It had been raining for
five days straight, making it impossible for her
to get out of the house. The rain pelted
relentlessly against the roof, and she stood at
the window, watching wide runnels streak
down the glass, making it difficult to see past
the front gate.

She knew no one in the town. Her aunt had
cultivated no friendships in New Orleans,
using this house only when she was weary of
the adoring crowds and wanted to be alone.
Those quiet times Emerada had spent with
her aunt were among her most treasured
memories.

She moved away from the window and stared up at her Aunt Dilena's portrait, which
hung above the mantel. Her aunt wore a frilly
white ballerina costume, with her red hair
spilling down her back and a half smile on her
face.

Many of her aunt's friends had remarked
upon how alike the two of them looked, but
Emerada knew she would never be the beauty
her Aunt Dilena had been. As she stared at the
portrait, wishing she could will her aunt back
to life, a tear trailed down her cheek.

Loneliness ripped at her heart, and she
glanced upward, trying to control her raw emotions. Molly had explained to Emerada after
one of her bouts with crying that when a
woman was going to have a baby, her emotions
would often spill over. But didn't she have good
cause to cry? She had no one except Domingo,
and she couldn't share her deepest thoughts
with him. If only Josifina had lived. She would
have helped her get through this trying time in
her life.

For so long now she had been exposed to
death and sadness-the death of her family, her
aunt, Josifina, and all the people who'd died in
the war. She embraced the thought of the life
that stirred within her body. She needed this
baby. It would be someone to love, someone
who would need her.

Emerada wrapped her red woolen shawl
tightly about herself and took up her vigil at
the window once more. Lonely hours stretched ahead of her, with no companion to brighten
the shadowy corners of her life.

She wondered what Ian was doing at that
moment. Could he be thinking of her as she
was of him?

There was a knock on the front door, and she
heard Molly's footsteps pass the morning room
on her way to the door. Emerada was sure it
must be the farmer delivering milk and cheese.
But why would he come out on a day such as
this? she wondered.

She heard a man's deep voice but could not
hear what was being said.

Moments later she heard Molly's light footsteps approaching. She poked her head
through the doorway, her plump face etched
into a concerned frown.

"There's a gentleman to see you, ma'am. He
said his name is Ian McCain."

Emerada didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He had come!

Then panic set in, and she wondered if she
should see him at all. If he found out about the
baby, he would feel obligated to marry her.

"Shall I tell him you are indisposed?" the
maid asked, seeing how pale Emerada's cheeks
were.

"No," Emerada said, draping her shawl
about her in such a way that it concealed her
rounded stomach. "Show him in, Molly. And
prepare a light lunch. He may be hungry. Make coffee for later. I'll ring if I want you to serve
lunch."

When Molly withdrew, Emerada clasped her
hands nervously. Had she made a mistake in
seeing Ian?

Oh, why has he come?

There was no mistaking Ian's heavy boot
steps against the parquet floor. She looked up
just as he appeared at the door, his tall frame
filling the doorway. He wore a blue cutaway
coat over tight-fitting black pantaloons tucked
inside knee boots. His stiff white shirt collar
rested against his tanned cheeks, and he carried a small leather pouch. His dark hair glistened from the rain, and she was reminded of
the time he had held her in his arms, standing
in the rain at Talavera.

He had never looked so handsome, and
Emerada's heart felt as if it had slammed
against her chest. She clutched her shawl
tightly to keep her hands from shaking.

"Ian. What a surprise! How ever did you find
me?" She hoped her voice didn't tremble-she
knew she was talking too fast, but she always
did when she was nervous. "What brings you to
New Orleans?"

Ian said simply, "You."

If he had displayed any emotion, showed the
slightest bit of happiness at seeing her, she
would have been in his arms. But he merely
looked at her with an air of detachment.

"You came all this way when a letter would
have sufficed?"

He moved farther into the room, reminding
her of her manners. "Please be seated. You
must be chilled. Let me offer you something
warm to drink, or brandy if you like. Perhaps
you are hungry?"

He waited for her to be seated before he
took a seat across from her and placed the
leather pouch beside him. "No, thank you. I
dined earlier."

"Of course."

They were like two polite strangers meeting
for the first time. She sat on the edge of her
seat as if she might take flight at the least
provocation, while he was stiff and formal.

"I trust you left General Houston in good
health?"

He leaned back, placed his arm across the
back of the sofa, and looked at her for a long
moment before answering. "He is well and
sends you his regards."

Again they lapsed into silence. Hers wasn't so
much that she didn't know what to say; it was
because she cared so deeply for Ian that she
felt vulnerable and unsure of herself. She was
afraid that at any moment her emotions would
spill out and she wouldn't be able to control
what she said.

She clasped her hands in her lap. "Our newspapers are filled with the wondrous things taking place in Tejas, or should I say Texas. Imagine, a country unto itself. My father would
have been proud."

"He would have been proud of you, Emerada."

She made sure not to look directly into his
eyes, because they were too unsettling and had
the power to make her melt inside. "I do not
think he would be proud of some of the things
I did to accomplish my goals, Ian."

Again, silence.

After a while Ian stood up and walked over to
the mantel, studying the portrait that hung
there.

He glanced back at Emerada. "Your aunt?"

"Si. That was done three years ago in Paris
by an artist, I believe, of some renown."

"I can see where you get your beauty. You are
very like her."

"You are too kind. I am nothing like her, although I will always strive to have her goodness."

"Am I to be allowed to meet her? I have
heard you speak so kindly of her that I would
be honored to make her acquaintance."

She lowered her head. "I am sorry that will
not be possible."

"Of course, she must be in Europe."

"No. My aunt... died while I was in Tejas."

He came to her, bending down on his knees
and taking her hands in a warm clasp. "Emerada, what can I say to comfort you? I am so
sorry!"

She felt the heat of his hands, and she
wanted to lay her head on his shoulder, seeking
what comfort it would bring. Instead, she
forced herself to stay where she was.

"Thank you for your sympathy, Ian. Now, if
there is nothing further to discuss, I am very
weary."

"Nothing further!" He turned her to face
him. "Have you any idea what I had to go
through to find you? Nothing further, you say!
You can't suppose that I came all this way to
pass pleasantries with you?"

She raised her gaze to his and saw anger in
his blue eyes. "Why did you come, Ian?"

"I'm damned if I know!"

He moved to the sofa and retrieved the
pouch, opened the flap, and withdrew a parchment, displaying it for her inspection. "You will
notice that this bears the new, but not yet official, seal of Texas. I was empowered by President Houston to present this to you with his
heartfelt gratitude."

"I do not understand," she said. "Houston is
president?"

"I believe that comes as no surprise to anyone."

"Of course. Many people believe Tejas will
benefit from his leadership."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "There was a
time when you would have thought him the
right man for the office."

"I still do. But I have not quite forgiven him
for his lenient treatment of Santa Anna."

Ian stood before her in a proud military
stance. She wondered what he was thinking
and what emotions warred within him. He
looked at her coldly, like some disinterested
stranger.

"I will read the document to you," he said in
a dispassionate voice." `In gratitude, the great
Republic of Texas wishes to acknowledge and
reward Emerada de la Rosa for her acts of
heroism during our fight for independence.
Therefore, Texas returns and conveys to her
and her heirs the property known as the Talavera Ranch, which was previously awarded to
the de la Rosa family by a Spanish land grant
dated 1786.'"

Emerada covered her eyes as he continued to
read the legal document that restored Talavera
to her. She willed herself not to cry, but tears
swam in her eyes. She hardly heard his words
until the last sentence.

"`Please accept our heartfelt appreciation
for the bravery you displayed in defense of
your country.'"

Ian folded the parchment and handed it to
her. "You will see that it's signed by Sam Houston himself."

He placed the document in her hand, and
she looked up at him. "I do not know what to
say."

"Say nothing. If anyone deserves to be honored, it's you."

"I do not want anyone to know about what I
did."

He nodded. "Houston was sensitive to your
feelings. It seems he made you a promise that
he would never tell anyone unless you gave
him leave to. Regardless what you may think,
Houston keeps his word."

"I will never give him permission to make my
part in the war public knowledge."

"Then history will never hear about the
valuable service that the San Antonio Rose
rendered Texas. There will be rumors, of
course, but Houston will never break faith
with you."

"You know all about me, Ian. Will you keep
my secret?"

"I will never speak of it to anyone. It is your
secret, and yours alone." He sat back down and
studied her face. "Pity though. You did so
much for our cause."

"But I did not do it for any noble reason."

"Yes, you did. You did it out of love for your
family."

She smiled at him. "Thank you. And when
you see Houston... never mind. I will write to
him. I am grateful that Talavera has been returned to me."

He watched her closely. "Will you return to
Texas?"

She wanted to go home to Tejas more than anything, to rebuild the ranch house and to live
again in her childhood home. But she could
never do that now. She had to think about her
baby.

"No. I suppose I will engage a solicitor to find
a buyer for the ranch. It is prime land and
should be easy to dispose of."

He stood up and nodded toward the rest of
the room. "So this is what you want out of life?
I had thought you loved the ranch. Why are
you so determined to be rid of it when it meant
so much to you before?"

"You would not understand."

There was anger in his voice. "Try me." His
gaze fell on the shawl she had carefully
arranged to hide her pregnancy.

He reached out to touch the edge of it. "I believe this is how you first came into my life.
How well I remember the first time I retrieved
your shawl."

"And this is how we will part," she said,
snatching the shawl out of his fingers.

"I am going to be in New Orleans on business for a week to ten days. May I see you
again?"

She knew she should sever all ties with Ian.
There was danger in seeing him again. But she
was not ready to dismiss him from her life just
yet. She would see him once more.

"Yes, if you would like."

He bowed to her. "Until later, then."

"Si. Until the next time."

After Ian left, a battle waged inside Emerada's head-a battle between tears and pride.
Pride won.

That night when she went to bed, she had
trouble sleeping. All she could think about was
Ian's cold indifference to her.

Through her window, she watched the moon
rise, and she was still awake to see it set.