Night Flower (Gone-to-Texas Trilogy) (2 page)

      
From the first Dulcia had been shyly receptive to his courtship, listening with wide, adoring eyes to his stories about the rich, wild land of his birth. They had been married last summer with Uncle Alfonso's blessing, and had returned from their honeymoon in time for Lee to complete his final examinations with his professors at the university. Now, he was looking forward to a year or so during which their marriage could cement itself. He had not expected the sudden intrusion of the outside world into his own realm of contentment. But events were outstripping his plans. Texas and his friends there called him.

      
‘‘Homesick?” His uncle entered the room quietly, asking the question, although he already knew the answer. Over the years, his nephew had corresponded with his friends in Texas regularly.

      
“Charlee asks if I'll be home for little Will's birthday in June. He'll be three years old and I've never even seen him,” he replied, still deep in thought.

      
The frail gray head nodded. “And Texas is still home? I had hoped after your marriage to Dulcia, that you would begin to consider this your home,” he said sadly.

      
Lee placed his letter on the scarred oak table and walked across the large room to take his uncle's pale, veiny hand in his firm dark one. Ushering the old man to a chair, he pulled up another across from him. “Texas will always be home,” he replied. Then he added gently, “But a part of me will always remember and treasure my years here, too. You've been so good to me, taught me so much. I can never repay your kindness.”

      
The old blue eyes twinkled. “And I introduced you to a second cousin's granddaughter—the greatest gift I could bestow. Just think, if you had not come to Mexico, you would never have met my ward, and found such a paragon for a wife.”

      
Lee smiled broadly. “Most of all, I'm grateful for that. And you're right, for all your teasing. She is a paragon.”

      
Alfonso's expression turned grave. “Do you think a convent-reared, delicate young lady such as Dulcia will be happy in your wild Texas?”

      
Lee sighed and stood up, starting to pace restlessly. “I don't know if she will or not, Uncle.”

      
“Have you discussed your plans with her?” Alfonso prodded.

      
“Yes. Before we ever married, I told her I was bound to return to San Antonio, that Jim and Charlee and Asa, all the people I grew up with, were there. Will Slade raised me when my parents…”

      
“Died violently,” his uncle finished the difficult sentence for Lee. “Did you ever explain to Dulcia the reasons you were orphaned and raised by an Anglo family?”

      
“That's not fair. Comanche raids around San Antonio are growing increasingly rare. And Will Slade's wife was a Sandoval. Jim is half
Tejano
. I'm
Tejano
, not truly Mexican, no matter how much I love you or how much I honor my Mexican heritage. Your own brother chose to become a
Tejano
when he emigrated. I was born one.”

      
“Alejandro was young and idealistic,” Alfonso said sadly, his gentle scholar's soul still appalled by the savage deaths of his younger brother and his wife. “And now you wish to carry on his dreams of carving a cattle empire out of the wilderness,” he added with a wistful smile.
      
“Remember, your father went to a state of the Mexican republic. You grew up to see a revolution make it an Anglo republic. Soon, it will be a state in the American union. I've seen this coming for a long time, Leandro.

      
The old man continued, “President Polk's Minister Plenipotentiary, John Slidell, has been refused recognition by that imbecile President Herrera. The war party in the Yankee Congress already cries for troops to be mustered at our northern borders. Last summer, the Americans sent their General Taylor to Corpus Christi with an army. Our leaders and the Yankee leaders will get their wish. There will be a war, Leandro. A war Mexico cannot win. When Mexican and Yankee fight, where will that leave the
Tejanos
?”

      
“Caught in the middle,” Lee conceded unhappily. “But that's all the more reason for me to be there. Jim Slade and a lot of other
Tejano
ranchers like him are in the same position. We have to band together and defend our land—Texas is where I must build my life, Uncle Alfonso.”

      
The old man stood up and put his thin arms around the youth's broad shoulders. “Then you must prepare your bride to leave very shortly, while you can still do so unmolested. Once war breaks out, travel will be very dangerous, especially with an American navy in gulf waters.”

      
Lee nodded, saddened as he was by his disagreement with his uncle, who was far more than a kinsman. He was a teacher and a friend. Lee hated to desert the frail man, who was alone now that the rest of his family had died in a yellow fever epidemic four years before. Since he had married Alfonso's ward, he was even taking her away from the old man.

      
“I did not want to go this soon, Uncle. We can wait another season. Perhaps...”

      
“No. I, too, was once young. Even now I still am not too old to recall the impatience of youth. If you stay with me and the war prevents you from leaving, it may be years before it's over. I know we will lose to your Yankees.”

      
“They're not my Yankees just because I have some Yankee friends. Was Santa Anna your president just because you're Mexican?” Lee rejoined. “I see things in both countries to admire.”

      
“You can be a bridge between the two, eh? Well, perhaps you can at that, my son, perhaps you can,” Alfonso said, with animation and warmth once more infusing his thin face. “But for now, you must speak with Dulcia.”

* * * *

      
“What are you doing, Dulcia, daydreaming about Leandro?” Luz Rodrigues' dark eyes flashed with mirth at her friend's pinkening cheeks. The two young women had just completed a shopping expedition and were riding back to the Velasquez house in Juan Rodrigues' carriage. “If I had a husband as young and handsome as yours, I'd daydream, too,” Luz said in an attempt to ease Dulcia's discomfiture. If only she weren't so shy!

      
“Do you really think he is handsome? I—I mean, more handsome than Juan?” Dulcia's delicate porcelain complexion was still flushed.

      
Luz's laughter rang like a silver bell. “Of course he is! Juan is forty years old. Oh, he is distinguished, I suppose, if a bit thick about the middle; but he is rich and my parents were ecstatic about the marriage settlement. How I wish I had been like you—able to choose whom I married. Your guardian has been more doting than any father I know.”

      
“And generous, taking in an orphaned girl of such distant kinship and providing her the best education.”

      
At that, Luz made am indelicate harrumph of disgust. “That convent school may be highly rated by strict parents, but I hated every minute of it! Being married, even to Juan, is better than living with the sisters.”

      
“I liked living with the sisters. Sometimes...oh, Luz, sometimes I'm not sure I like being married at all.” Dulcia averted her eyes, her desire to confide in her older and more experienced friend warring with her embarrassment at bringing up such an indelicate topic.

      
Luz's face softened, and she took Dulcia's hand in hers and squeezed it. “You agreed to marry Leandro. He is handsome and young, from a fine family, a gentleman. Even if the Velásquezes aren't rich, they are comfortable, and Leandro gives you anything you want. You just ordered three new gowns today.”

      
“Oh, no, it's not that he isn't kind to me or generous or anything like that. I had just thought, perhaps with an older husband that you might not have to...you know, submit so often.” She burrowed her face in the folds of her hooded fur cloak.

      
Luz nodded, finally understanding the nature of her friend's problem. “Your
Tejano
is a wild stallion in bed. A quick plunge in and then out satisfies them, but never for long. With practice, he'll learn to go slower for you.”

      
Dulcia seemed to cringe. “Oh, Mother of God, I hope not! I mean...he takes forever now, undressing me and touching me all over. I've tried to do what the good sisters said—I try to please him. He is my husband and I do love him. It's my duty, but I pray I'll conceive quickly. Then I can ask him not to...”

      
Watching her seventeen-year-old friend's shuddering misery, Luz could have wept for them both. Dulcia had a young, virile lover who apparently wanted to please his wife; and she had a fat, selfish old man whose interest in making love was secondary to finishing quickly so he could go to sleep!
Too bad we cannot trade places, little one,
she thought sadly as the carriage clattered through the deserted streets at dusk.

* * * *

      
“What do you mean, leave now! How can we do such a thing? Uncle Alfonso is not well. We cannot abandon him. We cannot abandon Mexico. Oh, Leandro, these past few months since leaving the sisters I've learned to love my home in this wonderful city.” Dulcia's slender hands were clasped in supplication.

      
Lee looked at her pale, distraught face. Damn, he had dreaded this, knowing how hard it would be for her. Taking her in his arms, he said softly, “We'll build a new home in Texas, Dulcia. Remember, I told you how beautiful the land is. My parents' land is waiting for us. It's where my roots are, where I belong.”

      
She stiffened and sobbed, “Your roots are in Mexico where your parents were born, not in some foreign land overrun by Yankees.”

      
Lee continued stroking her gleaming chestnut curls. “Dulcia, we talked of this before we were married. You knew I must return to Texas, that I own land there. With the funds Uncle Alfonso has given us, we can build a prosperous ranch.”

      
“But you never said we'd have to leave so soon,” she hiccupped.

      
“I would have waited if the choice were mine. I know Uncle Alfonso is frail and lonely. He'll miss you, his beautiful little princess.” He smiled down at her cherubic face, so vulnera
ble and sweet.
She's just a child, fresh from convent school, he thought, willing himself to be patient with her fears. “But we can't wait much longer to leave, darling. Uncle Alfonso himself urges us to go now while we can still get a ship.”

      
“What do you mean, ‘while we can still get a ship’?” she asked, looking up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

      
Lee put his arm around her shoulder and led her to the big bed in their spacious sleeping quarters. A warm fire crackled in the grate, and he went over to stoke it. As he knelt and turned the logs on the andiron, he explained carefully to her, “I know this may shock you, princess, but Mexico and the United States may go to war. If that happens, the gulf will be under siege and travel by ship will be restricted. Even if we took a neutral French or English vessel, it might be fired upon.” He stood up at her small gasp of horror and walked quickly over to her.

      
“It'll be all right. If we leave now, no one will be shooting, princess. And deep in the interior of Texas, where my ranch is, the war won't touch us. But if we stay here too long, we may not be able to leave for years. I just received another letter from Charlee Slade today. She's so eager to meet you, and she wants us to be there for her son's third birthday.”

      
Dulcia wrinkled her nose. “I still think that is a dreadful name for a lady—Charlee. But I do want to meet your friends—the people who raised you,” she added quickly.

      
“You'll like Charlee and Jim and Asa. Even Weevils grows on you after a while,” he said. His black eyes sparkled as he envisioned the beloved faces of the only family he had known until Uncle Alfonso had located him.

      
Sighing in resignation, Dulcia said timidly, “Well, I can begin to pack tomorrow if both you and Uncle Alfonso feel it is the only thing to do.”

      
“Oh, beloved, it will be a whole new adventure for us. Like a second honeymoon.” He sat down on the bed and took her hands in his, raising them to his lips and kissing them as he said, “Speaking of honeymoon, it seems to me we're still on ours....”

      
He kissed her lips softly, then trailed warm, moist kisses down her throat and across her collarbone. When he slipped her blue satin dressing gown open, baring a pale ivory shoulder, he could see her pert young breast beneath the thin silk of her night rail. His hand cupped the small peak and his thumb worked delicately over the nipple. Although Dulcia did not resist, neither did she respond. As he peeled off her robe, revealing the slim curves beneath the sheer night rail, she sat very quietly, moving her arms in response to his unspoken directions, letting him slide the sleeves off, untie the sash. When he returned his attention to her breasts, caressing them and working the nipples, they remained unaroused.

      
Sighing, he slowly raised his hands to run his fingers through her gleaming chestnut hair, holding her head gently as he kissed her, willing her to open her mouth to him.
I must go slowly. She's straight from the convent, shy, modest, a lady.
With a muffled groan, he laid her back on the bed, then stood up and walked over to the candelabrum. He blew out the candles, leaving the room in darkness. Dulcia was far more at ease without the light. Only a slight glimmer of moonlight remained to illuminate his path back to the bed. Quickly stripping away his clothes, he lay down beside her and gently worked the night rail up over her hips.