by Carla Kelly
“Oh, hush. I have to know. You say you have followers? Who?”
“All the villagers at Las Claves. Every one. I rode there a month ago. Engracia and Rodrigo left for Valladolid earlier, but installed an uncle at Las Claves. How one woman can have so many useless relatives is beyond me. I give him six months to stay alive.” He laughed. “Soon he will have no villagers to work fields, tend cattle or shepherd flocks.”
“All of the villagers? How? Didn’t he object?”
“I simply asked them. What could he do? They are under no fiat to remain, but free men like me.” He held out his good hand and she took it in hers. “We will go to Las Claves after Toledo.”
“And pick up Pablo at the first farm across the Tajo,” Ana said. “He will be so pleased to see you.”
“Your true knight will accompany us,” he assured her. “The villagers of Las Claves – even La Vieja – will be ready to travel south.” He kissed her hand. “Before we leave, we will go to the cemetery and pay our respects to a brave man and his daughter.”
“I will always miss them both,” she admitted.
“I would be disappointed in you if you didn’t.” He nudged her. “But don’t miss Yussef el Ghalib too much, wife.”
“No fears, Toño,” she said.
“Ana, tomorrow in Toledo let us find that musician and his little sister. You and I will dance outside the gate, as we did once. The hope of us dancing there, even now as winter comes, pulled me through these months of pain in Almadén.”
She kissed him. “See there, Toño, you never gave up.”
“You have found me out, wife,” he admitted. “I will be such an easy mark, a compliant husband.”
Ana smiled inside. Hardly, not this man of hers.
“It’s a small thing, I suppose, but will you dance with me in Toledo?”
“I was there at the gate two weeks ago,” she said, tracing the lines of his face. “I will always dance with you.”
After another kiss, Ana left the room and stood in the hall long enough to calm her mind and heart. She smiled to think of Hernana’s awful tease coming, and clothing to pack for Liria. She had nothing of value to pack for herself, really, except the necklace.
Ana raised the necklace, wondering if it was good luck or bad luck. She decided it was good luck, though painful in the extreme, that she had the wrenching agony of staying with Santiago until he died, holding him in her arms, wishing for more time. Sometimes love hurts.
The necklace also kept Yussef el Ghalib alive, if alive he was. If the Almohad caliphate crumbled now, perhaps Yussef could use his considerable talent and undeniable charm to find a place for himself in a different Spain. She knew he would be welcome wherever she and Antonio settled. Sometimes love had no resolution.
She opened the door to her bedchamber again, more quietly this time, for another look at the man who had most definitely rumpled the sheets on a bed where she had slept alone and in tears. She admired the peace of his sleep, well aware that she had been responsible for at least some of that. As she leaned against the door frame, loving with her eyes the husband in her bed, Ana remembered the day Nito the gypsy taught her to read the lines in people’s palms. Sometimes love teaches us.
You were a rascal, Nito, but you told me I had a long lifeline and could look forward to much love and many children, she thought. Maybe fortunetelling was all a hoax; maybe Nito knew something. She studied her palm and smiled at the lifeline.
Ana blew a kiss to the sleeping man then closed the door. There was much to do, if she and Liria were traveling tomorrow, first to Toledo, then Las Claves, then south to land promising more hard work and danger. She knew this moment in the corridor was probably her last peaceful time for days, maybe months.
Ana looked down at the necklace, knowing what it represented now: hard-earned, well-deserved love and the promise of more, never to be bargained away again, because the winnowing was over. “Certainly I will dance with you, Toño,” she said softly. “I will always dance with you.”
End
About the Author
A well-known veteran of the romance writing field, Carla Kelly is the author of forty-three novels and three non-fiction works, as well as numerous short stories and articles for various publications. She is the recipient of two RITA Awards from Romance Writers of America for Best Regency of the Year; two Spur Awards from Western Writers of America; three Whitney Awards, 2011, 2012, and 2014; and a Lifetime Achievement Award from Romantic Times.
Carla’s interest in historical fiction is a byproduct of her lifelong study of history. She’s held a variety of jobs, including medical public relations work, feature writer and columnist for a North Dakota daily newspaper, and ranger in the National Park Service (her favorite job) at Fort Laramie National Historic Site and Fort Union Trading Post National Historic Site. She has worked for the North Dakota Historical Society as a contract researcher.
Interest in the Napoleonic Wars at sea led to numerous novels about the Royal Navy, including the continuing St. Brendan Series. Carla has also written novels set in Wyoming during the Indian wars, and in the early twentieth century that focus on her interest in Rocky Mountain ranching.
Readers might also enjoy her Spanish Brand Series, set against the background of 18th century New Mexico, where ranchers struggle to thrive in a dangerous place as Spanish power declines.