While Passion Sleeps

by Shirlee Busbee

  Once he raised his monocle to gaze at a pair of those Spanish pantaloon-like garments, calzoneras. The outer part of the leg of the calzoneras was open from hip to ankle, the borders set with twinkling filigree buttons, and the whole fantastically trimmed with tinsel lace. The pair that aroused Nathan's obvious envy was worn proudly by a young Mexican caballero who stared haughtily back at Nathan. Beth smothered a laugh, certain that Nathan would soon own a similar pair.

  It was approaching noon and Beth was about to suggest that they return to their hotel for lunch, when an aristocratic-appearing gentleman and his young wife accosted them. They were both well dressed, the woman in a flattering brown silk gown and the gentleman in a well-fitting buff broadcloth coat and embroidered silk waistcoat.

  Instead of passing them, the couple stopped and the gentleman said in a friendly voice, "We couldn't help noticing that you seem to be strangers, and we wondered if we could do anything to make you feel at home. I'm Sam Maverick, a rancher in these parts as well as a lawyer, and this is my wife, Mary. Are you new settlers to the area or are you, perhaps, visiting with relatives?" The man was courtesy itself, and Beth liked him on sight. Mary, her plain face welcoming, sent Beth a quiet smile, and Beth returned it. There were a few moments of conversation as the Ridgeways introduced themselves and Nathan explained that they were only stopping for a short rest in San Antonio before traveling eventually to Santa Fe, where they would be staying with his wife's friend, Stella Rodriguez. At the mention of Stella's name the conversation became more vivacious, as it turned out that the Mavericks had known Stella and her family for some time. In a very few minutes they were talking as if they'd known one another all their lives. At least Beth was, and Nathan, having met Stella only the one time in New Orleans, added little to the conversation but was content to see Beth enjoying herself.

  They might have stood there talking indefinitely if Mary Maverick hadn't said, "This is ridiculous, standing on a street corner gossiping. Do come to our house. It is just over there on the corner of the square. You see that giant cypress? Well, that is our house next to it. Please say that you will come... and stay for lunch, too?"

  Nathan and Beth refused politely at first, but Mary and Sam Maverick were warmly insistent. And as Beth was eager to continue the conversation and Nathan was perfectly agreeable, shortly she found herself sitting comfortably on a chintz-covered sofa in the three-room stone house.

  The unexpected visit with the Mavericks proved as pleasant and enjoyable as Beth had thought it would. Nathan, too, his natural curiosity aroused, became involved in a lively discussion about the rewards and pleasures to be found in settling in the Republic of Texas. Beth had reservations, and remembering the band of Kiowas they had seen and Stella's tales of raiding Comanches, she blurted out, "But what about Indians? I understand that many lives are lost regularly because of them."

  Sam Maverick frowned and admitted reluctantly, "What you say is perfectly true, I cannot deny it. Indians, especially the Comanches, are our greatest threat—besides the ever-present one of an invasion from Mexico." He paused, but seeing he had the riveted attention of his two guests, he continued, "At first the Comanches did not attack us, but in the past few years their raids have taken a terrible toll. Why, in '38 the slaughter became so great that Bastrop County was nearly denuded of settlers. It was shocking and dreadful, the killings that took place. Entire families wiped out. Dreadful." His expression lightening, he added encouragingly, "But we hope we have seen the last of those vicious raids—soon, if all goes well, the frontier will be secured and safe for all Texans."

  Her face revealing her doubt, Beth questioned, "How will you accomplish that? Apparently you haven't been able to appease them in the past—what makes you think that the future will be any different?"

  It was Mary who answered. Bending forward in her rocking chair, she said earnestly, "I would normally agree with you, Mrs. Ridgeway, but you see, a group of Comanches rode through here not long ago, and they expressed a wish for peace with us. Our gallant Texas Rangers have been able to strike back at those wicked creatures, often in their own territory, and we believe that they have begun to realize that we Texans will not allow them to intimidate us the way they did the Spanish and the Mexicans. A meeting has been arranged by Colonel Karnes, he is the Commander of the Southern Frontier, and everyone is hopeful that a lasting peace can be achieved. The fact that the Comanches themselves requested the peace meeting is what gives all of us hope." She sighed. "The only problem will be whether or not the Comanches are willing to return all of their white captives. If they do not, there will be no peace."

  "Captives?" Nathan spoke up in astonishment. "What do they want with captives? I would think that any men captured by them would easily escape from simple savages."

  Mrs. Maverick looked uncomfortable and said in a low voice, "They never take men captive, only women of childbearing age and small children." Her expression embarrassed, she continued with difficulty. "They take the women to use as slaves and for an even fouler purpose—to force those poor wretched creatures to bear them half-breed children. The captured white children are adopted into the tribe and grow up thinking they are Comanches."

  Beth was horrified, filled with a sudden terror, imagining herself in the clutches of some brutal savage and the humiliation she would suffer. Ghastly! But the subject held a horrid fascination for her, and unable to help herself, she inquired softly, "But do they survive?"

  Both of the Mavericks looked grim, Sam Maverick saying, "Some do, some don't. Some we never know for certain what their fate is. The Parker children, taken during the Parker's Fort massacre in '36, are a good example... little Cynthia Anne was only nine, her brother John just six. There are rumors that she has been seen with the Comanches in the north, but no one knows for certain if she is still alive or what has happened to her brother. Those of their family that survived the slaughter pray that every little white girl sighted is their Cynthia Anne."

  "Those poor, poor children," Beth breathed in horror.

  "It is something that every Texan has lived with these past few years," Maverick said heavily. "Despite our attempts to make treaties with them, they continue their depredations upon us. The Rangers do their best, but they are too few men against the savage hordes. It simply must stop! The Comanches must be made to realize that we Texans are here to stay; we will not be intimidated as the Spanish and Mexicans were. We will not buy peace by giving gifts and bribing them to leave us alone." Angrily Maverick finished, "This is our land and we will not be driven from it!"

  Perhaps both Mavericks felt that they had given their visitors a gloomy and terrifying picture of life in Texas. Changing the subject, for the next several moments they stressed all the advantages: the huge tracts of land that were being given away—twelve hundred and eighty acres of free land to each family, six hundred and forty acres to each unmarried man; the climate and soils that made it effortless to make a handsome living. If crops didn't appeal to one, why there were thousands of longhorn cattle that had been left by the Spanish settlers when many had fled back to Mexico in 1835.

  By the time the Ridgeways had left the Maverick home, the subject of Comanches and Parker's Fort had long been dismissed from everybody's mind. Except that Beth dreamed again that night, a terrifying nightmare in which she was naked and defenseless surrounded by a group of leering Comanches, the lust in their eyes almost tangible. The firelight flickered on their savage faces as they closed in on her and then they were gone, and there was only one Comanche, remaining, a tall, lean Comanche with a bloodied knife and gray eyes... a Comanche with the face of Rafael Santana.

  Chapter 10

  The Hacienda del Cielo was situated in some of the most beautiful country that Beth had ever seen. It was set in a rugged area of live-oak-covered hills with picturesque green valleys and inviting blue streams, edged by towering cypress trees. As they drew near the hacienda, they saw great herds of cattle, their enormous curving long horns identifying them as
animals unique to the Republic of Texas.

  They had left San Antonio at first light the previous day, and the ride to the hacienda had been without incident. Beth had been thankful, in view of her recent nightmares, that Sebastian and his four servants were with them. It lulled her into a sense of security, and she preferred to forget the possibility of the danger that existed—danger from raiding Indians or the added peril that a roving band of Mexican bandidos who still ravaged the countryside might discover them; these bandidos pillaged, raped, and killed, with the blessing, if not encouragement, of Mexico City.

  Nathan brought up the subject of Indians, though, and as they discussed what the Mavericks had told them, Beth admitted, "I think, perhaps, you were right, Nathan, about this trip. It is dangerous. Would you think me very foolish if I confessed that I have lost my taste for it?"

  He didn't think she was foolish, but he was amply surprised, and very relieved. Not wanting to know what had brought about this devoutly longed-for reversal, Nathan asked eagerly, "Does that mean we do not have to go any farther? We can go back to Natchez?"

  Beth thought about it for a long moment, remembering her deep desire to see Stella and the baby Elizabeth. She did want to see Stella but she was frightened, and the journey that had started out with so many hopes and dreams now gave her an unshakable feeling of impending danger. Taking a deep breath, she said slowly, "Yes. We can stay with Sebastian's relatives for a night or two, then go back to San Antonio and return home the way we came."

  Nathan was delighted, overjoyed, and he made no attempt to disguise it. When they stopped to rest the horses and oxen, he couldn't contain himself. Happily, he burbled out the news to Sebastian, who had chosen to ride his horse rather than suffer the confines of the coach. Astonishment written across his lean, attractive features, Sebastian said blankly, "Go back? You mean all the way to Natchez? You're not going on to Santa Fe?"

  "No," Nathan replied with satisfaction. "Beth decided that she does not want to go any farther. We will accept your kind invitation to stay at the hacienda, but when we leave, we will go back to San Antonio and from there to Natchez."

  Sebastian looked hard at Beth, trying to discover a reason for this sudden and unexpected change of heart. Beth met his look steadily, but the expression in the violet eyes was embarrassed. She was being such a fool and she knew it, but if there had been an overpowering desire to embark upon this journey in the first place, it had been replaced with an equally overpowering desire to leave as soon as possible and to seek the safety of Briarwood. With difficulty she murmured to Sebastian, "I know you must think me the flightiest creature imaginable, but I find that I simply do not want to go any farther. I'll write my friend from San Antonio and explain everything to her."

  Sebastian asked helplessly, "Are you certain it's what you want to do?"

  "I'm positive," Beth stated firmly.

  There was nothing more to be said, although it was obvious that Sebastian would have liked to discuss it further. But he let the moment pass, aware that whether Beth went on to Santa Fe or back to Natchez, she was still leaving his life within the next few days... unless he could convince her that she belonged with him. She must know of her husband's philandering with young men, he decided thoughtfully, must know that Nathan was not the ardent husband he should be. With that in mind, wouldn't she be more inclined to accept an offer of marriage with a real man? A man who would never seek solace from another pair of arms—feminine or masculine? His mind made up, he resolved that before the Ridgeways began their long journey back to Natchez he would find some way to declare himself to Beth. That she seemed singularly unaware or uninterested in his suit he stubbornly refused to recognize.

  Beth was subdued for the remainder of the journey, but catching her first sight of the hacienda as they rounded a hill and entered a wide, verdant valley, she was glad that they had accepted Sebastian's invitation. At the far end of the grassy valley the hacienda sat like a gleaming white-walled fortress, portions of the red-tiled roof of the casa grande visible above the thick adobe walls and the trees that surrounded the living compound. A wide, blue, sandy-bottomed stream lined with cypress and sweet gum trees ran through the valley, and the dusty, tawny road that led to the hacienda was edged with sprawling sycamores.

  The outer walls soared some twelve to fifteen feet in the air; the top ledges were studded with tall iron spikes. Beth felt as if she were entering a medieval stronghold as the wide beaten-iron gates at the entrance clanged shut behind their party. It gave her an unsettled feeling as she realized that those walls were the only barrier between them and the frightening savagery that the people here could and did face daily. Everywhere she looked, no matter how well-kept, no matter what signs of prosperity or wealth existed, there was some reminder that provisions had been made for protection from rampaging Indians; she was aware of how very lucky they had been to have gone so far unscathed and how very grateful she would be if they were able to reach Natchez without ever seeing another Indian. Those grim spikes reminded her that outside those walls, death rode a painted pony and struck without warning or mercy.

  There were actually two sets of walls. The outer walls provided a stout barrier of protection for the adobes of the peasants and vaqueros that lived and worked on the ranch. The area encompassed was several acres; it was here that the granary was located, as were the storehouses, the community well, and the stables. The inner walls, though high and wide and amply dependable against attack, were simply to guarantee privacy for the casa grande.

  When the coach reached the gates of the second wall, it halted. Sebastian dismounted and, flinging open the coach door with a flourish, he helped Beth to alight. Bowing with lithe grace he said teasingly, "Madame, the Hacienda del Cielo awaits your lightest command."

  Descending in his usual languid manner, Nathan murmured dryly, "Isn't that for your cousin to say... or have I mistaken the situation?"

  Sebastian flushed. "There is no mistake, and the situation has not changed—not in the least. If you will excuse me, I shall apprise my cousin of our arrival."

  Glancing interestedly about her, she and Nathan strolled toward an archway through which Sebastian had disappeared. On the other side of the arch was another world, and Beth gasped with pleasure. It was a world of elegance and grace, of flowering scarlet and purple bougainvillaea, orange and yellow climbing trumpet vines, sparkling fountains, flagstone courtyards, and tubs of leafy green trees that cast welcoming shade against the walls of the hacienda. The walls of the house glistened so white that it hurt Beth's eyes to look at them in the bright sunlight. Moorish arches and lacy ironwork balconies were evidence of the hacienda's past history, and Beth wondered if it was possible that one of de Vaca's men, the one known only as "the Moor," might have seen to the construction of this magnificent house. Through another arch set in the side of the hacienda there was a tantalizing glimpse of a cool, sheltered inner courtyard, a three-tiered fountain of water tinkling in the center of it.

  They were crossing the outer courtyard, walking toward the three shallow steps that led to the interior of the hacienda, when Sebastian, accompanied by a slim, handsome man of about fifty, stepped out onto the portico. A plump, matronly lady, her dark hair covered with a black lace mantilla held in place with a high jeweled comb, joined them.

  The dark-haired, olive-skinned man could be none other than Don Miguel—there was a proud assurance to the set of his shoulders, and his clothing spoke of wealth and position. His short cloth jacket was richly embroidered with braid and fancy barrel buttons; the red sash tied about his waist was of silk. The woman was dressed no less grandly—her ruby silk gown was of European style with long-fitted sleeves; the waist ended in a point, and the full skirts nearly brushed the ground. Several gold chains fell from her neck and rested on the plump bosom.

  The gentleman's face broke into a broad welcoming smile and he cried, "So, you are Sebastian's friends, si! Come, come inside and refresh yourself. The hacienda is at your disposal—we a
re most happy that you allowed our disreputable young relative to convince you to stop and stay awhile. Visitors are always welcome at the Hacienda del Cielo, but Sebastian's friends even more so."

  There followed the usual exchanges of conversation, and it was only when they were all laughing over some remark made by Nathan that Sebastian said easily, "I think we have forgotten introductions, and before I forget my manners entirely, Dona Madelina and Don Miguel, I would like you to meet my friends, Mrs. Elizabeth Ridgeway and her husband, Mr. Nathan Ridgeway. Beth and Nathan, may I present my cousin's delightful wife, Dona Madelina Perez de la Santana and my cousin, Don Miguel Lopez de la Santana y Higuera."

  Sebastian grinned. "I think it would be easier if the names were reduced to simply Beth and Nathan and Miguel and Madelina."

  It was Madelina who answered. Her dark eyes beaming with pleasure, she murmured, "Si, joven, such formality would certainly be a poor way to thank your friends for their kindness to you in your travels."

  Beth's face had gone white at the Santana name, and frantically she sought to recover her composure. Striving to act normal, she said in what she hoped was an unruffled tone of voice, "But it was Sebastian who was kind to us. He even went so far as to rearrange his own trip to accompany us on ours. It is Sebastian who has been exceedingly kind to us, not the other way around."

  Sebastian looked uncomfortable, and Miguel smiled as he glanced at his much younger cousin. "Perhaps Sebastian took it as a great kindness that you accepted his outrageous company, hmmm?"

  There was a ripple of laughter at his words, but Beth's was forced, her thoughts spinning in apprehension. Was it just one of those startling coincidences? Or had she blindly and unwittingly blundered into the tiger's lair?