Texas Desire Page 4

  Blowing her hair out of her face, she glared down at him. “If you would just do as I tell you we wouldn’t be having this trouble.”

  “What trouble?”

  Olivia opened her mouth and couldn’t think of anything to say. Careful to avoid hurting him, she climbed off of the cot and turned her back on him, taking a few moments to pin her hair back into the bun, hoping her heartbeat would slow down. Drawing a deep breath, she straightened her back and whirled back to face him, ready to give him a stern lecture on manners, propriety, and his lack of both.

  Her mouth clicked shut. He was asleep. For a moment she had the insane desire to laugh. He probably wouldn’t even remember the past few minutes, except that he still didn’t have his gun. Nervously patting her hair, she eyed his face. This man was trouble. And the sooner she believed that, the better it would be for all of them.

  Cade waited until he heard the door close above him before opening his eyes. Fortunately, she believed he was asleep and had left. Slowly, carefully, he pushed himself to a sitting position and was amazed at how exhausted he was. He shook his head as he looked at his body. He was a disaster that much was certain.

  His lips twitched slightly as he saw the sheet she had draped over his midsection before leaving. Olivia was her name. He remembered fragments from the night he had come to their home—remembered her holding the gun on him. More than that, though, he remembered her speaking to him, her eyes locked with his as she poured the whiskey on his wounds.

  He ran a hand through his hair and turned to prop himself against the wall, surveying his surroundings. He vaguely remembered descending the stairs into their cellar, but most of the events of that night were foggy. The cellar was obviously used for storage, with bags of potatoes, onions, and yams piled on a shelf. Another shelf held jars of preserves and pickles and other delectable items that made him realize it had been a long time since he ate.

  His eyes settled on a small table in the far corner, and he leaned forward, but the lantern light was too low for him to see much. It looked like... guns. Pushing himself forward slowly, he reached for the lantern, and lifted it higher. A rifle, shotgun, and three pistols were on the table, cleaned and oiled; bullets and primer stacked next to them. One of the pistols he recognized as his own, and he struggled to his feet.

  The pain that tore through his leg blinded him for a moment and he nearly dropped the lantern. Gasping, he dropped back to the cot, setting down the lantern with a thump. The pain nauseated him, and for several moments he thought he was going to be sick. Slowly it faded, easing into a throb that made his jaw clench.

  Sweat covered his forehead and he wiped away at it as he lifted his head to look down at his leg. The bandage was bloodied, and a thin trickle was seeping down his thigh. Breathing deeply, he untied the linen and pulled it back, revealing the long, large gash and the delicate stitching that held it all together. He thought for a moment he would be sick again. He had seen men torn up before, seen their exposed muscles and tendons. It hadn’t bothered him then. It was entirely different when he saw his own flesh torn so badly.

  He wondered how he had been able to make it the few hundred yards to the Torres’s residence that night, and realized his frantic adrenaline induced race to their home had probably caused the wound to tear even further.

  With a muffled groan, he lay back on the cot, wanting to yell... wanting to break something. The frustration consuming him made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. Gradually his breathing slowed and the room didn’t seem to be smothering him. He stared up at the rafters and heard women talking; a young girl giggled.

  His hands clenched into fists at his side. He would not let this stop him. He would heal. Too much was at stake for him not to.

  Chapter Four

  “Some food would probably do you good.”

  The voice was one he wasn’t used to, and his eyes shot to the stairs where a young woman descended, carrying a bowl in her hands. She smiled at him, though she looked wary. A memory flashed through his mind and he realized she was the woman he had almost shot when he first came to the Torres’s home. No wonder she looked afraid of him.

  “I know Vi has been taking good care of you, but we had some food left over from lunch, and I thought you might be hungry.”

  Cade pushed himself to a sitting position slowly, making sure the sheet covered most of him. He hated to admit it, but he didn’t want her, or Olivia for that matter, to know that he had tried to stand and caused his wound to bleed. “Yes, ma’am. I am rather hungry.”

  She hesitated for a moment, landing at the bottom of the stairs, a half smile touching her lips. “I like the way you talk. Are you from near here?”

  Cade avoided her gaze as he ran a hand through his hair, hoping he didn’t look too much like the worn leather he felt like. “East. East Texas.”

  “Vi says you like to be called Cade. I hope I’m not being too forward to do so.” She stepped closer and the smell of whatever was in the bowl wafted to him. His stomach growled audibly and she smiled. “You should enjoy this.”

  He wanted to curse when he saw his hands shaking as he reached for the bowl. Damn, but he was weak. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so exhausted. He looked at the bowl with skepticism. He would probably spill the contents all in his lap.

  The young woman appeared to be thinking the same thing as she pulled the bowl back, her lips pursed thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t think this will work. I can...”

  “I can feed him. What are you doing down here anyway?” Olivia was coming down the steps quickly, her manner brisk. “I don’t know that he should be eating so soon anyway. Perhaps just a tortilla.”

  Cade’s stomach growled in protest. “I think I can handle a bit more than that. Whatever is in that bowl smells mighty good.”

  The young woman stepped back and handed Olivia the bowl, then cast Cade a rueful glance. “I’m Angie, by the way.” She placed her hand to the side of her mouth and whispered, “The nice one.”

  Cade’s eyes followed Olivia as she approached him with the bowl, noting that her hair was back in its severe knot, and her expression was devoid of emotion. The woman was hard, and he still couldn’t believe she had sacrificed so much to care for him.

  Olivia carefully sat next to him on the cot and hefted a spoonful of what looked like stew towards his mouth. For a moment, he felt like telling her he was perfectly capable of feeding himself. When he lifted his hand, though, the tremors were still there. Concealing a weary sigh, he opened his mouth like a babe and took the food she offered.

  The flavors that washed through his mouth were intoxicating, and the textures made his stomach growl for more. “What is this?” he asked, swallowing quickly and opening his mouth for the next spoonful.

  “It’s called menudo,” Angie said, beaming. “Abuela makes the best you will ever eat.”

  For a several seconds, Cade was lost in the blissful experience of consuming the herb enhanced sauce and meat. “Menudo?”

  “It’s a little like what I suppose you call stew.” Angie spoke up again, preventing Olivia from elaborating. “But when she adds the goat eyes, it makes it so perfect.”

  The next swallow was a little more difficult. “Goat eyes?”

  Olivia pivoted on the cot and glared at Angie. “Is there a reason you are still down here?”

  Angie clasped her hands behind her and rocked back and forth on her toes. “What are you doing here in San Antonio, Mr. Cade? I know you wanted to help at the Alamo. You’re so fortunate you didn’t make it.”

  Cade’s eyes locked on Olivia. “What is she talking about?”

  Olivia’s lips were in a tight, thin line. “The Alamo has fallen, Mr. Cade. There were no survivors.”

  The mouthful of menudo in his mouth was nearly impossible to swallow. “None of them?” he said, his throat tight. “None of them made it out?” A vague memory tickled his mind and his eyes shot over to Angie. “Your husband...”

  Angie’s chin quiv
ered, but she forced a smile to her lips. “My husband is a very strong man. He’s gotten out of some terrible scrapes before. I know he did it again.”

  Again, Cade looked at Olivia and saw the expression on her face. She didn’t believe as Angie did, but obviously didn’t want to voice her thoughts out loud. Cade didn’t blame her. The hope in Angie’s eyes was enough to make anyone hesitate before speaking against it.

  Angie’s eyes dropped to the menudo, and her face paled. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She turned as though to head for the stairs, but quickly turned back and grabbed the chamber pot, retching loudly.

  Cade’s appetite completely vanished.

  Olivia set the bowl to the side and shook her head at her sister. “You worry yourself sick. Look at yourself! This is the third time this week you have been sick like this.”

  “It’s not her fault,” Cade said softly.

  Olivia glanced over at him, a puzzled look on her face. “Did you say something?”

  Cade frowned, wondering why she hadn’t heard him. “I said it’s not her fault. All women go through this.”

  Olivia pressed her lips into the thin line he was coming to expect and shook her head. “Not all women handle stress and worry so badly. She just needs to—”

  “It’s because of the babe.”

  Angie’s head snapped up and she hastily wiped at her lips, looking at Cade as though he had betrayed her. The look in her eyes told him he had just said something she really wished he hadn’t.

  “What?” Olivia looked between Cade and Angie then focused on Cade. “What are you saying?”

  Cade watched Olivia, not willing to say anything more. He had obviously hit upon a subject Angie wasn’t ready to discuss, and he didn’t want to put the woman in any further turmoil. Losing her husband was bad enough. Having to face the world without a father for her child was far worse.

  Olivia focused on Angie, obviously realizing Cade wasn’t going to supply her any answers. “What is he talking about, Angie?”

  “I—I had wondered... I wasn’t certain...”

  “We’ll talk about this at another time. Go lie down and rest. Be sure to drink some water. I’ll be up there soon.”

  Tears welled into Angie’s eyes and she stood, heading towards the stairs. “I’m going to my room. Sorry I can’t stay. Mr. Cade, it was nice meeting you... without the gun this time, of course...”

  Olivia sat in silence for several moments, staring at the chamber pot. Finally, slowly, she turned back to Cade.

  “Would you like anything more to eat?” Her manner was calm, formal... cold.

  “I thought you would have known...” He didn’t know how to apologize or even if he should.

  Olivia grabbed up the bowl and stood. “I didn’t. You don’t know me or my family, Mr. Cade, so please don’t make assumptions. Your stay with us might be brief, but you will be with us, nonetheless. I ask that you stay out of our affairs during that time. I have taken care of this family for many years and will continue to do so without your assistance.”

  Cade felt as though she had slapped him. “For someone who has taken care of a family for so long, I would think you would know a little more about what goes on with them.”

  The flare in her eyes made Cade very thankful she wasn’t holding her pistol any longer. “I will be down to check on you later. In the meantime, I recommend you try not to stand again. I’m sure the last time was excruciating.”

  “Angie, you will answer my question. You will not ignore me about this! Are you really pregnant?”

  “Yes, Vi, I’m pregnant. I’ve known for the past week. Is that what you want? I didn’t know how to tell you. But now you know. And don’t get that look on your face. Lorenzo is coming home. You don’t have to worry about a thing.” Angie’s last words ended on a sob.

  Feeling responsible for her sister’s distress, Olivia wrapped he arms around Angie, rocking her back and forth from where they sat on Angie’s bed.

  “The baby should be born in October. At least, that is what I expect. Maybe as late as November. But I started getting sick right after the soldiers began to arrive. That means I’m already at least a month or more along,” Angie said between sniffles.

  Olivia sat listening to her, but unable to fully absorb what was being said. A baby. It was unfathomable. With Lorenzo gone, and very little hope of his returning, Angie would have to raise the child on her own, with the help of family, of course. But it would have no father.

  Olivia pressed her fingers to her forehead and rubbed slowly, trying to ease the ache. “What are you planning on doing?”

  Angie leaned back in her arms and shot a look at Olivia. “What else would I plan on doing? This baby is coming, whether we want it or not. And, frankly, I want it.” She moved out of the embrace with Olivia and dabbed at her eyes with her apron. “What are you planning?”

  “I just...” Olivia hesitated.

  She didn’t want to tell her sister that Olivia was fairly certain her husband was dead. Though Angie clung to the thought she didn’t see Lorenzo’s body among the dead at the Alamo, Olivia realized they didn’t see everyone that died, and some of the bodies were so mangled and unrecognizable, they wouldn’t have known if it was Lorenzo or not.

  “We need to make plans for your pregnancy. You can’t do as much work in the cocina as you have been. I don’t want you on your feet all day anymore.”

  Angie paused and smiled at Olivia. “I’ll be fine. The work is good for me. It keeps me from...” Angie’s voice trailed off, and both knew what she was thinking of. “It keeps me from noticing the sickness as much.”

  Olivia rubbed more furiously at her forehead and drew a deep, though shaky, breath. “Still, not as much work. Serena can help out more. And what about your home? I can’t let you go back out there like this. It was hard enough with just the two of us. Pregnant, you won’t be able to really get anything accomplished.”

  Angie fluffed her pillows needlessly and focused on picking some lint off of the bedspread. “I’ve been thinking about that.” Her gaze finally lifted and connected with Olivia’s. “I think you should go stay out there for a while.”

  “And leave you and Serena to care for things? Hah! This babe is already addling your mind.”

  “And take Mr. Cade with you.”

  Olivia froze. “No. Absolutely not.”

  Angie turned in the bed and leveled a look a Olivia that clearly stated there was no room for negotiation. “Vi, you know the soldiers are looking for him. It is just a matter of time before they start looking around here. You saw they were searching the marketplace this morning. They still believe he is nearby.”

  “We’ve deceived them in the past. We’ll do so again.”

  “I don’t think it will be so easy this time. They are actually hunting for him, Vi. And if they find him here, everyone will be at risk. I don’t know what he did to make them want to find him so badly, but we will absolutely protect him. You need to get him away from here. For the sake of the family.”

  Olivia scoffed. “Don’t try that ploy on me. You know I will do whatever I think is safest for the family, and right now that would be for me to stay right here.”

  “You are not being logical. If you just take him out there—”

  “I will not sacrifice the Torres good name by staying alone out there with a man I don’t even know, much less am wed to...”

  “Exactly who do you think is even going to care? No one is around, Vi! Open your eyes. Everyone has left. Our cousins, our tias... everyone is gone. No one is watching us except the Mexican Army, and they think we are hiding someone they want to execute!”

  Olivia stood and headed for the door. “No. Absolutely not. I won’t even consider it.”

  “The man is injured. He can’t do anything. He can’t even stand on his own. What possibly could happen?”

  Olivia stopped halfway to the door and whirled on her sister. “You have no idea the terrible things
men are capable of. And you don’t know because I’ve hidden them from you. But it’s time you opened your eyes, Angie. We don’t know this man! How do we even know if we can trust him?”

  “Then why have you let him stay in our home, under the same roof as your sisters and grandparents if you don’t think he can be trusted?”

  Olivia’s mouth opened then clicked shut. She folded her arms over her chest, her foot tapping madly on the floor.

  “He needed me,” she said finally, then corrected, “He needed us. We are the only thing keeping him from that army. I—I will not see him come to harm by them.”

  “Good. Then you’re already looking at things more logically. Now realize that you need to get him away from here.” Angie stood and began to straighten the bedspread.

  “You are one to talk about logic! All your life you’ve done everything backwards and against the rules!”

  “Your rules, Vi. Your rules.”

  Olivia stood frozen for several seconds, breathing heavily, so angry and frustrated she couldn’t move.

  Slowly, she turned, her hands shaking as she reached for the door handle. “I have always done what is best for this family. And I will continue to do so.”

  “Then you will take him out to my home.”

  “And do what, Angie? Leave him out there? Wish him a speedy recovery?” She shook her head, looking over her shoulder. “I don’t think so.”

  Angie frowned, placing her hands on her hips. “What are you scared of?”

  Olivia nearly choked on her tongue. Without another word she yanked open the door, slamming it loudly behind her.

  “Very brave. Why didn’t... the others? It would have...”

  Olivia stepped closer to the door leading out into the dining room, straining to hear the conversation that kept eluding her. Casually glancing out at the diners, she saw a soldier... an officer, speaking to Angie, and her heart skipped a beat.

  “San Antonio is our home, senor. It always will be.” Angie said, smiling sweetly at him.