Renegade Love (Rancheros) (22 page)

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Authors: Donna Fletcher

Tags: #Historical Romance, #california

BOOK: Renegade Love (Rancheros)
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Anger raced through him and he clenched his hands into tight fists. He wouldn’t only kill anyone who hurt Rosa, he would make them suffer, and he knew how to make a man suffer. Pacquito had taught him well.

He suddenly needed to know where Rosa was. With his shirt hanging open, he rushed through the door into his bedchamber only to stare at the empty room. When he had arrived home he hadn’t seen his wife, but then he had been trying to avoid her since his only thought had been of scooping her up and carrying her off to bed for the remainder of the evening. He had seen his mother in the small parlor, but had purposely not asked about Rosa. Now he needed to know where she was.

He hurried to button his shirt, though left it unfettered at the neck, and slipped the ends into his pants, then he grabbed his jacket before leaving the room. Supper was to be served at any moment, so she had to be in the dining room. His steps were quick, though silent so his sudden entrance startled his parents.

What surprised him was that his wife was not there.

“Where is Rosa?” he demanded.

His mother smiled. “She went to town to visit a friend. I’m sure she will be here any moment.”

Esteban turned to his father. “You let her go to town?”

“I sent six vaqueros with her,” Dona Alejandro said confidently.

Esteban actually laughed, which stunned his parents. “Pacquito’s men would finish them off before they could draw their weapons.” His eyes heated with anger. “What right did you have to give my wife permission to leave the hacienda?”

His father had no chance to respond, raised voices caught all their attentions. Esteban hurried out of the room, his parents following behind him. The commotion took them to the courtyard where more vaqueros gathered with their weapons.

When Esteban saw his wife sitting in the carriage, bent from her waist, her head almost touching her knees and Dolores placing a wet cloth to her neck, his stomach knotted and his heart pounded viciously in his chest.

He rushed to her side, his face filled with such rage that everyone scurried out of his way. When he reached her, he slipped his arm across her waist and leaned down to ask, “Are you all right?”

She placed her hand on his arm, took a deep breath, and then raised her head to look at him. She wanted to cry with joy that her husband was there beside her. “I’m fine. I foolishly let the men on the ridge upset me.” She had been more than upset. She had feared for her life.

Esteban turned to Pedro and didn’t need to say a word. He immediately explained.

“A band of men, eight or ten, were up on the ridge when we crossed onto Cesare land. They followed, parallel to us, slowly, never taking their attention off the carriage and didn’t leave until we reached the hacienda, and then—” He shivered. “They let loose with a God-awful roar as if they were going to attack, but instead rode off.”

Esteban turned to his father. “Send some men to warn the other haciendas that Pacquito is still in the area and post extra guides here.”

“You heard my son, Pedro, see to it,” Don Alejandro said, his arm around his wife’s waist, her face pale.

Esteban went to move his arm away from his wife, but her fingers gripped it tightly. He leaned in close, his cheek a faint breath away from hers and whispered, “I’ll keep you safe.”

She pressed her cheek to his and loosened her grip.

Esteban scooped her up and lifted her out of the carriage, and with a nod to his father, he hurried into the house.

He took her straight to the dining room where Dolores was filling glasses with wine.

Esteban placed his wife on a chair and handed her a glass of wine.

She reached for it with a trembling hand and he quickly hunched down in front of her and wrapped his hand around hers to help still her trembling so that she could take a few sips. He then took the glass from her, placed it on the table, and stood, turning to his father.

“My wife is not to leave the hacienda without my permission. And while I am gone a guard will be posted outside our bedchamber.”

“You’re leaving?” Rosa asked, her heart that had calmed with his presence now hammering wildly against her chest.

“I need to see to this,” Esteban said with a determination that sent a chill through Rosa.

Her hand shot out and grabbed his, squeezing it tight. “You cannot go.”

“You will be safe,” he assured her, though part of him knew that he was the only one who could keep her safe from Pacquito.

“It is not me I’m concerned for... it is you.”

He looked down as her other hand locked around the one that already held on to him. He almost laughed at her attempt to stop him. Her meager strength could not hold him there.

“Please do not go,” she pleaded softly. “I do not want to lose you.”

Her words were like a lasso that wrapped around him and pulled tight, not allowing him to go anywhere. Little by little her words and actions were binding him to her, and damn if this wasn’t one binding he didn’t mind. The thought disturbed him and he pulled his hand out of hers.

“You have such little faith in me?” he snapped. He got angry with himself as soon as he let loose with the remark, his wife drawing her head back as if he had just slapped her.

“Faith has nothing to do with it,” his father said. “It’s foolish for you to ride off now. If another hacienda is attacked and you are once again nowhere to be found, then the rancheros will believe that you ride with Pacquito again.”

“I do not care what they believe.”

“You should,” his father reprimanded. “You are wed now and you have your wife to think about and how your actions will reflect on her. Manuel Garavito believes you responsible for the attack and refuses any help I offer him and no doubt will soon let everyone know how he feels.”

“Don Manuel accepted the help I offered him today,” Rosa said without thinking and all three turned to stare at her.

“You went to the Garavitos and not to town?” Don Alejandro asked, as if he could not believe his own question.

Time to face the consequences of her actions, but before she did she reached for her glass of wine. Her hand still trembled and once again she found her husband reaching out to help her and hunching down in front of her, though this time he wore a look that made her a bit leery.

With his hand closed firmly around hers on the glass, he said, “Tell me, wife, why did you go there?”

“To offer my help in their time of need,” she said quickly and almost cringed, for it sounded like a practiced response.

“And were the Garavitos pleased by your visit?” Esteban asked.

Rosa smiled and color popped back into her cheeks. “Yes. Don Manuel extended his thanks for the wine I brought them and accepted the help of the vaqueros. Dona Elena and I enjoyed the fruit and cheeses I also brought, and then I helped her salvage some items from one of the rooms damaged in the raid.”

Esteban returned the wine glass to the table, and then lifted the hem of her dress. “I was wondering where this soot had come from.” His hand went to her face and his thumb swiped along her jaw holding it out for her to see. “And this as well.”

She surprised all of them by laughing softly. “It was a messy chore, but worth it. We were able to salvage many cherished items.” Rosa turned to Dona Valerianna. “I told Dona Elena that you would join me when I visit next. There is much she needs help with.”

“She has servants to help her,” Don Alejandro said.

“Dona Elena needs friends now, not servants,” Rosa said. “And she told me what a good friend Dona Valerianna is and how much she misses her.”

“We will go help her,” Dona Valerianna said before anyone else could speak.

Esteban stood. “My wife goes nowhere without me.”

“Good, then you’ll be joining us,” Rosa said, keeping her smile firm even though Esteban scowled at her. At least the turn in the conversation had kept her husband from leaving.

“Why don’t we all sit and have supper,” Don Alejandro said sending a nod to Dolores for the food to be served.

“I have things to see to,” Esteban said and turned to leave.

Rosa grabbed for his hand,” Stay.” She didn’t mean for it to sound like an order. It was worry for her husband’s life that caused it to sound like a command. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to take offense.

He leaned down in front of her once more and pressed his cheek against hers. It was warm and so soft that he would have lingered there if he could. He whispered in her ear. “What would you do to keep me here?”

Her knees began to tremble and she gathered her courage and pressed her mouth to his ear and whispered, “Anything.”

Chapter Twenty-two

His wife’s one word shot to his groin hardening him in an instant. Images flashed through his mind of all the things he’d like to do to her. And with the way she had responded so willingly to him last night, he didn’t doubt her when she said, ‘
anything
.’

Esteban stood, lifted and turned his wife’s chair with her on it, to place closer to the table in front of her plate. Then he took the seat beside her.

Dolores hurried to move the place setting from where he usually sat opposite his wife, to in front of him.

Pedro entered the room shortly after they began eating to inform Don Alejandro, though he looked at Esteban when he spoke, that extra men had been posted around the hacienda and that there had been no signs of anyone approaching. Men had also been sent to spread the word to the other haciendas to be on guard.

The news seemed to relax everyone at the table except Esteban. He was aware of how Pacquito and his men could sneak up and strike without anyone spotting them. He had done it himself.

Esteban was well aware of what the attack on the Garavito hacienda represented. It had been in response to his failure to obey Pacquito and return to his camp. The day would come—he always knew it would—that he would have to kill Pacquito so that he could finally be free.

Civilized conversation went on around the table, as if nothing had happened. But then his father would warn him that it wouldn’t do well to upset the women. After supper, he would no doubt suggest that he and Esteban retreat to his study for a drink. Only then would their discussion continue about Pacquito.

He didn’t intend for it to be a long conversation and the chances of it turning disagreeable were high. Whether anyone liked it or not, he had to bring an end to Pacquito’s evil. He had thought he had left the band of renegades behind, but it had been a foolish thought. There had been those who had warned him that death was the only way of being free of Pacquito.

“You’re not eating,” his wife said, her hand going to rest on his hand that held a fork but hadn’t used it.

He stared at her hand. Did she touch him out of concern? Out of duty? Out of Love? He almost laughed aloud at the ridiculous thought. She did what she had to do to survive just as he had and continued to do. And yet her hand rested so easily on his and her voice was so tender that he wondered if perhaps...

He yanked his hand away. “I’m not hungry.” He didn’t need to complicate matters by believing that she could possibly fall in love with him. And what good would it do her? He had already placed her in harm’s way by marrying her.

Esteban had delayed long enough. He stood abruptly. “We need to talk, Father.”

He was surprised when his father didn’t disagree and the two men left the dining room with nothing more than a nod to their wives.

Dona Valerianna sighed. “I am sorry, Rosa, but I regrettably must retire.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Rosa asked concerned, the woman looking paler than before.

Dona Valerianna stood, tears filling her eyes and said, “Yes, please don’t let Esteban be taken away from us again.”

Rosa sat staring at the retreating woman. Why did Dona Valerianna think that she could stop that from happening? She had no sway over Esteban... no one did. He lived by his own rules. Rules she imagined that had helped him survive. The problem was that he was still trying to survive. He had yet to fully return to his life here at the hacienda. He was still part renegade and he couldn’t seem to let go of that.

She feared for him—and of him—at times, and she understood why Dona Valerianna feared losing him again. He could step back into that world and never return, and it upset her to think that she would never see him again. She felt her breath catch and her hand went to her chest.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized how in love she was with her husband. He certainly didn’t make it easy to love him. She recalled her mother telling her that love rushed in and grabbed the heart and senses, leaving one blind and giving thought to nothing else. But when love finally settled, it was then that you found its true worth. She intended to find its true worth.

She left the dining room and wandered through the hacienda, thinking of how her life had changed so suddenly. And unlike the last time her life had taken an abrupt twist, this time it was for the better. She hadn’t thought so at first, but Esteban had been much different than she had expected and the more she had gotten to know him, the more she realized she favored what she was discovering about him. And the more she wanted to protect him as he did her.

Anything.

The word had slipped easily past her lips as soon as her husband had asked her the question, though now that she had time to give it thought... she shivered. Would she do anything to keep him at the hacienda?

She finally arrived at her bed chamber and her hand paused on the door latch. She shook her head. Esteban was talking with his father, he wouldn’t be waiting here for her. She felt her stomach catch at the thought. Was that disappointment she felt?

With a hesitant step, she entered the room to find it empty. One glance at the bed and her cheeks glowed red. She pressed her cool hand to one and smiled at the memory that stirred her senses and the thought that she wouldn’t mind making more memories with him.

Her smile faded slowly. She wondered if he wished to make memories with her. Did he even think of a life with her or did he simply regard her as a convenience, a woman whose legs he could slip between whenever the urge struck?

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