Texas conquest, p.12
Texas Conquest, page 12
“Hmph,” Olivia shook her head. “I think we’ll just be extra careful and be sure to get him every bit of info we can.”
Angie sipped on her water again, wishing she actually could get sick again so she didn’t have to tell Olivia the next thing she remembered. She swallowed hard. “Actually, Tom has a new request for us. He needs us to concentrate on getting them more food.”
Olivia’s eyebrows rose. “Do we need to start making more trips out there? It will be difficult, but we can—”
“He doesn’t really want us to go out there again. He feels it is getting far too dangerous.”
“He feels—Well of all the preposterous—That just doesn’t make any sense.”
“Why? He wants to keep us safe. It’s very admirable.”
“Admirable? Exactly what happened out there, Angie? Did you anger him?”
“I knew that’s what you would say.” Angie shook her head, frustrated. Olivia would have a hard time believing she hadn’t done something to make Tom no longer want them to visit the camp. “There’s nothing wrong with what happened, and yet you’re trying to place blame somewhere.”
“Something must have happened for him to think he can trust this man over us.”
Angie rubbed her fingers over her dry, gritty eyes. “It’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of safety.” She sighed heavily. “It’s what Tom has requested of us. Believe me, I argued just as strongly as you, but he has his reasons.”
Olivia’s lips were pulled into a thin line. “Very well. How are we to get food to them, then?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to think of something.” Angie was growing tired, but hated to see the look of disappointment on Olivia’s face.
Defeating the Mexican Army had been Olivia’s drive for so long Angie didn’t think her sister would know what to do once there was no longer an enemy.
Olivia took a deep breath, shook out the cloth and began to refold it again. “You’ve been missing a bit of excitement in the cocina.” Her tone implied the excitement had been unwelcome.
Angie felt guilty for not even thinking about the cocina. “How have you and Serena been? You haven’t had to turn away customers, have you?”
“No, though Grandpa has been helping more than he would like. And Grandma has been able to help for a few hours here and there.”
Olivia smoothed back a piece of hair that had pulled loose from her bun and fixed a suspicious eye on Angie. “That crazy soldier has been coming for breakfast.”
“What?”
“The betting soldier.”
Angie bit her tongue before she accidentally said his name. “You mean the snake charmer?”
“I mean the low life bastardo that bet on your virtue, that’s who I mean. Snake charmer. Hah. I’ll tell you a few things he can charm. That man—”
“When did he come back?”
“What do you mean ‘come back’? He never even stayed gone! The very next morning—right after you fell ill. The nerve. Serena gave him an earful, though. She’s going to be tough, just like Papa.”
Angie picked at a piece of lint on her quilt. “What happened?”
Olivia shrugged, but there was a glint in her eye. “Not much. Serena told him he had already said his goodbyes, we had acknowledged them, and we weren’t interested in seeing his acrobatic talents with a bowl of chili and a chair anymore.”
A giggle escaped Angie, and she covered her mouth to stifle it. Olivia smiled also, obviously taking delight in telling the story. “You wouldn’t believe what he said. He said that he couldn’t stay away from a cocina that had the three most beautiful women in San Antonio.” Olivia’s lips twitched with what could have been a laugh. “Serena offered to help him find the proper restraint.”
Angie couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her. Finally catching her breath, she asked, “So what happened? Did he leave?”
Olivia’s smile dropped. “No. And he’s been back every day, asking for you.”
Angie’s breath lodged in her throat. “What did you tell him?”
Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly what he needed to hear. That it was none of his business and he would do well to remember that. As you would do well to remember what he did to you and not go all breathless when I talk about him.”
That was the problem. She was remembering all that he had done to her—with his lips and hands—or at least what she thought he had done to her. It couldn’t be a dream. It was far too vivid to have been a dream.
“I can see you’re getting sleepy again. Next time you wake up we’ll eat some tortillas. I think your stomach can handle it.”
Angie nodded as she slid further down under the covers.
“Get some rest,” Olivia said, patting her hand.
Angie almost laughed. How could she rest when every time she closed her eyes she saw Lorenzo’s face and felt his warm embrace? He was a mystery to her—a complete conundrum. And same as other mysteries she faced, she would solve this one. She just prayed she wasn’t the moth being called by the enticing flame.
He should have walked away. He should have turned his back on the cocina, turned his back on her, and never looked back. And here he was, for the third day in a row, standing outside the little house, fighting with himself whether he would go inside or not.
She was a strong woman and he was incredibly impressed with her dedication to the Texian Army. But, had it not been for her illness, he might end up being humiliated, slapped, or insulted for even caring.
He knew she was fine. The little freckle-faced Serena had told him as much. That was all he had wanted to know. He should just walk away. But he needed to see with his own eyes. He needed to see her with color in her cheeks again, with that anger burning in her eyes. Then he would know she was alright—then he could walk away from her.
He watched a few locals step up on the porch and into the bright house. Despite the mud and grime in the road, the porch was pristine, with only the footprints from the recent morning patrons. He had no doubt that Olivia was the one keeping things so spotless.
The hateful looks she had thrown his way the past two days had left him with no doubt as to his welcome. He would endure it once more. He needed to see Angie, know that she was alright. Then he would walk away and never look back.
He heard Serena’s nonstop chattering as soon as he stepped through the door and, from the pained expression on the old man’s face, Lorenzo had no doubt the conversation was unwanted.
Smiling to himself, he slid into an empty chair at the corner of the room, his eyes watching the kitchen, hoping that today he would see her. Serena, finally having become bored with her victim, walked up to him, her skirts swishing loudly. He leaned over to look at her then raised an eyebrow in question.
“I think it makes a lovely skirt, don’t you?”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
Serena rolled her eyes dramatically. “You aren’t a very good soldier, are you?”
Lorenzo tugged at his ear, trying not to smile. “I’m not sure I follow.”
She sighed heavily. “It’s a tarp that was wrapped around all of these guns. So I just took it and cut it into strips and made these knots—you see?” She sat down next to him, lifting a piece of her skirt so he could admire her handiwork. His mouth was gaping.
“Then I found these officer’s jackets. I tell you, they really should be more careful where they set down things. But the buttons are just gorgeous, and when I tied some together, this clinking sound was...”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Lorenzo was shaking his head. “Are you telling me stories?”
Serena frowned at him. “Of course not. I’ve got quite a talent for creating these beautiful clothes...”
“You’ve got quite the talent for stealing.” Lorenzo glared at her.
Were all of the sisters crazy?
“Well.” Serena stood up with a huff. “I’d prefer to think I just have the tenacity to find things others don’t see.”
“Until you’ve taken them!”
She grinned and shook out her skirt, the buttons rattling together. She turned towards the kitchen then looked at him over her shoulder. “Angie is doing well.”
Lorenzo sat forward slightly. “Is she working the cocina today?”
Serena only grinned as she flounced away. He decided all sisters were seriously disturbed and needed to be avoided at all cost. He nearly laughed at himself. Perhaps he was the crazy one. He was doing exactly what he told himself was foolish.
Angie came into the room with a smile on her face, though she looked tired. Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, trying to blend into the corner as much as possible so he could watch her. She had lost weight and her blouse was loose about her; her skirt riding closer to her hips than her waist. But her smile was bright and warm as she placed plates of steaming food in front of her customers. He watched her ask the old man about his wife, watched her put her hand on his shoulder for a friendly expression.
Jealousy bubbled up inside him so unexpectedly it startled him. He wanted her to be smiling at him, touching him. Quickly following the jealousy was anger. This was why he couldn’t have anything to do with her. She clouded his thoughts and judgments, something he couldn’t let happen.
Working with her as Tom had suggested was the worst idea he had ever heard. The last time he had trusted a woman enough to consider her his partner, he had ended up in hell. Shortly after that he found a close cousin to hell, prison. He was headed in that same direction with Angie, and he would be damned if he let that happen again.
Still, his eyes drank in the sight of her, knowing this would be the last time he ever saw her. Though there were dark circles under her eyes, there was color in her cheeks. He watched her go about the room, watched her graceful movements, watched her hands as they poured more coffee.
He remembered those hands on his chest, remembered her asking him to stay. A part of him regretted his decision, another part was extremely thankful. The complications that could have risen from such an affair were too numerous to count.
She had walked around most of the tables as she turned towards his and, for a moment, she didn’t see him, tucked into the morning shadows as he was. She started to turn away, but the slight glint off one of his buttons drew her eye.
She approached with a smile, but it faltered when she saw his face. “Buenas dias,” he said softly.
Color infused her face and he wondered if it was embarrassment or anger. Probably a little of both.
Her eyes were fixed on his face, watching his expressions closely. “Buenas dias.”
They were silent for several seconds, both just looking at each other. It was Lorenzo who broke the spell, lifting his mug for some coffee. She jerked her eyes away from him and focused on pouring the coffee, and he noticed a fine tremor in her hands. Was she still ill? Or was she nervous to be near him? After that night, he wouldn’t blame her for having a case of the nerves.
She had known she would see him eventually. She just hadn’t expected the sight of him to affect her so strongly. “What would you like for breakfast?” She forced a smile on her face.
His hand moved across the table and captured hers as soon as she set the cup down. She couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her as his thumb rubbed over the back of her hand. “How are you?”
She glanced around the cocina but, for once, no one was watching them. Many of the usual bawdy soldiers had already come and gone. She swallowed hard when she looked back at him. “I’m fine. Bit clumsy this morning, but that’s nothing unusual.” She gave him a shaky smile.
“I’ve never seen you clumsy... I’ve been looking for you.”
“So I’ve heard. Do you think that’s wise?”
His thumb was still rubbing her skin, causing gooseflesh. “No.” He didn’t offer any further explanation. She was blushing to her ears.
“I should thank you...”
“I won’t accept it.”
“Why not?” Her surprised voice was still hushed so the dining customers couldn’t hear them.
“Because I did it purely for selfish reasons.”
Her eyebrows rose in silent curiosity.
The corners of his mouth hinted at a smile. “I was well rewarded.”
If possible, her cheeks flamed even darker. “I didn’t, I mean—we didn’t...” She smoothed her hair out of her face and licked her lips nervously. “What I’m trying to say is...”
His grin turned wolfish as he slowly released her hand. “Why don’t you bring me some of your famous burned empanadas and I’ll tell you the entire story—every tantalizing detail?”
“Wh—I... Oh.” She turned on her heel, hoping no one saw her flaming face.
So it hadn’t been a dream. Or was he just teasing her? No, no—when his hand had touched hers, her body had remembered his touch. And it was a pleasant memory.
Olivia was stomping around in the kitchen, slamming down pots and pans. She glared at Angie when she came in. “I don’t understand why you’re even talking to him.”
“What happened to being cordial to our customers?”
“We don’t need him as a customer.”
Angie sighed and began to put together a plate of empanadas, shaking her head. Olivia wasn’t going to like anything she said at the moment, so it was best to say nothing.
“Why didn’t you just tell him to leave?”
“The same as you have the past two days?”
Olivia’s lips pressed into a thin line. “This is not my fight.”
“Exactly.” Angie turned towards the doorway. “So perhaps it would be best for you to stay out of this.” She walked out into the dining area, ignoring Olivia’s sound of shock then stopped in the middle of the room. Her eyes darted to every corner, but she didn’t find what she was looking for. Lorenzo was gone.
Chapter Twelve
The cracking sound jarred them out of their sleep in the middle of the night. They met in the hall wearing nightclothes and slippers—Serena barefoot as usual. The cracking echoed again and they all jumped.
“That sounded close,” Grandma whispered.
Olivia, levelheaded as usual, began to push everyone to the back of the house.
“We’ve all heard the gunfire before,” she soothed. “It will pass quickly as always.”
“What if it doesn’t stop this time?” Serena whispered. “What if this is it? What if the Texians are attacking the city?”
“Then so be it. We knew it would be coming eventually.”
They sat down in chairs around the stove at the back of the house, while Angie arranged the wood to start a fire. It was hard to know how long they would have to wait before they knew something.
Olivia sat ramrod straight in her chair, as though she were hosting a tea instead of trying to get out of range of stray bullets. Grandpa sat with his arm around Grandma as she held her rosary beads and muttered prayers. Serena sat cross-legged in her chair, braiding her hair into several odd clumps.
The fire came to life slowly and the warmth was welcome. Angie sat down in the last wicker backed chair and stared into the flames. The crack of gunfire sounded gain, but it was further away. Angie’s eyes clashed with Olivia’s and they were both thinking the same thing. Were the Texians alright? The gunfire was sporadic, though, making her think it wasn’t too severe—at least not yet. Shivering, Angie hugged herself, wishing she knew what was happening.
“They should just give up.” They hadn’t noticed that Grandma had finished her prayers and now leaned back in her chair, resting her head against Grandpa’s arm. “They’re all fools. There’s no way they can take this town.”
The sisters looked at each other, not saying anything. Olivia’s look conveyed a warning—don’t argue with Grandma.
Angie ignored the warning. “You don’t think things might be better without these soldiers here?”
Grandma turned her complete focus on Angie. “These soldiers protect us. They shield us from the Indians. They shield us from those crazy Texians that would storm through here and destroy us.”
“They don’t protect us, Grandma. They guard us. We’re prisoners. If we don’t do what they want us to do, they’ll punish us. What kind of life is that? To constantly be afraid to do as we please?”
Angie was surprised by herself. The feelings had been building the last few days as she had reflected on her real motivation to help the Texians. After her argument with Lorenzo the night she had gotten sick, she was more passionate than ever about why she was a part of the revolution. She wanted to carry out her parents’ drive and devotion to earn them freedom. She wanted to taste that freedom and not be worried about her every move day and night.
“You sound like your mother. Where have you been getting these foolish ideas?” Grandma asked harshly.
“Grandma, just calm down. I’m sure Angie is just agitated by the gunfire.” Olivia’s eyes were snapping with anger at Angie.
“Why is everybody afraid to talk about these things?” Angie asked, imploring the faces of her family to listen.
“Because it’s not loyal, Anjelica,” Grandma snapped. “And if you are not loyal to our government, then we might as well just tell you goodbye now.”
“Same as Mama and Papa?”
Grandma’s eyes glittered with moisture and her lips drew very thin. “Yes.” Her voice was hoarse. “And I’ll tell you the same thing I told them. It’s not worth it. It will never be worth that price.”
Angie sat back in her chair, regretful of the sorrow she had caused. Her grandmother was hurting just as bad as the rest of them—maybe more. Olivia was staring into the flames, her face blank, her hands folded calmly in her lap. Serena had drawn her knees up, resting her chin on them, her expression subdued.
Angie felt like a heel. She had wanted to know why her grandparents were so opposed to the efforts of the Texians, so opposed to the efforts of their parents. She didn’t know any more now than she did before, and she had stirred up emotions that could have remained dormant, at least until daylight.
