He slowly unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders, leaving her in her cotton chemise. Sloan shivered as his lips found the pulse beneath her ear. It was as though he had never touched her before, as though this were the first time… or the last.
“Touch me,” he said, his voice a deep rumble in her ear. “Put your hands on me.”
She pulled his shirt off and threaded her fingers through the hair on his chest, traced the hollows below his collarbone, and admired the washboard of muscle across his belly. The more she touched, the more she wanted to touch.
He returned the favor, mirroring her touches, murmuring love words as his hands caressed her through the soft cloth of her chemise. He wanted to give her pleasure; he wanted her to remember this night.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the soft feather mattress on the bed. He undressed her slowly, enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips.
Soft, he thought.
She mimicked him, running her hands down the front of his trousers, then feeling the texture of smooth buttocks and hair-roughened hips as she stripped him bare.
Hard, she thought.
Their loving was no less gentle than the touching had been. He entered her slowly, taking his time, testing her patience. When he was seated deep inside her, he said, “I want you to have my baby.”
He expected her to resist the idea, and she didn’t disappoint him.
“I can’t-”
“Oh, but you can, Cebellina.” He grasped her wrists and stretched her hands out above her on the pillows. His smile was feral. “I want to watch your belly grow round. I want to hold your hand while you labor, and bring our child into the new, civilized world that Texas will surely become. I want to be at your side while we watch our son or daughter grow.”
He withdrew slightly and then pressed slowly, steadily back into her, thrusts that reached to the heart of her.
He spilled his seed inside her with a joyous cry of exultation.
The seed might not take root. It might be rejected by the woman, as she might reject him. But he had given her the one gift he could leave with her if this was their last night together.
He didn’t mention his ultimatum.
She didn’t mention her warning.
They slept in one another’s arms and woke to the sound of children laughing and a baby crying. Still dressed in her chambray wrapper, Sloan left Cruz to investigate all the noise.
Cricket’s daughter Jesse was playing with Cisco, while Bay’s son Whipp was demanding to be nursed. Sloan felt an ache deep inside, an inexplicable yearning for the happiness she saw in her sisters’ faces, and touched her womb where Cruz had planted his seed.
If there was no child there now, there never would be. She loved Cruz, but there was only the promise from him to guarantee that their love would last. Who knew what might pull them apart? Look what had already happened. Within days of his declaration, he was allowing this situation to come between them.
It was too dangerous to love Cruz. Three Oaks would always be there. It was the reasonable choice.
Cruz took one look at Sloan’s face when she returned to the bedroom and knew she had made up her mind. Still, he had to hear the words. “Will you come with me to Dolorosa?”
She met his gaze with a courage she drew from somewhere deep inside and said, “I can’t leave Three Oaks right now.”
She said nothing more as she finished dressing in planter’s garb, ready to do a man’s job with a woman’s hands and heart.
Cruz’s face was grim as he finished dressing. When he spoke his voice was hard, his blue eyes cold. “Adiós, Cebellina. I will make arrangements to visit Cisco. A young boy should be with his mother.”
Before she had time to protest, he was gone. She heard his booted step on the stairs, then the murmur of voices, before the front door to Three Oaks slammed shut. Closing her inside. Closing him out.
She ran after him but got no farther than the portal to her room before she stopped. Cruz was being totally unreasonable! Didn’t that arrogant Spaniard know better than to give her an ultimatum at a time like this? She didn’t even know whether Rip was going to live or die. And she wasn’t about to follow after him like a distressed puppy.
Her chin jutted obstinately as she left her room and headed down the stairs. She found Luke waiting for her at the bottom.
“Aren’t you going after him?”
“No.”
“I thought you were smarter than you’re acting. And more forgiving.”
Sloan snorted. “Forgiving? Who am I supposed to forgive?”
“Cruz.”
“For what?”
“For being Antonio’s brother.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sloan said.
“I’m talking about blaming Cruz for the fact his brother broke your heart. He isn’t going to betray you, Sloan. He isn’t going to die and leave you-”
“Stop it!”
“Three Oaks is going to be slim comfort on a cold night, Sloan. Texas is going to blossom like a flower in spring once it becomes a state. You can spend your life with a man who loves you, helping him grow the sweetest smelling, prettiest garden on earth, or you can spend it alone. What’s it to be?”
Sloan bit back her retort. If having Three Oaks was what she really wanted, why didn’t she feel happier right now? Why did she have the urge to go running out the front door after a tall, arrogant Spaniard? Because the truth was, Three Oaks wasn’t enough.
“All right, Luke. Say I admit that you’re right. Say I agree that I need Cruz. That means I’ll be living at Dolorosa. Who’s going to take care of Three Oaks?”
Luke frowned. “You can work something out with-”
“You’re going to have to do it, Luke.”
“What?”
“You deserve it. I don’t need it, and it would make Rip as happy as a wolf at a lambing. Say you’ll do it.”
“I-”
“Hurry up! I want to go after Cruz, but I’m not leaving until I’m sure there’s someone here to take my place.”
Luke grinned and stuck out his hand. “You drive a hard bargain, Sis.”
Sloan grabbed Luke’s outstretched hand and pumped it twice before she turned and ran for the front door.
Cruz was coming out of the stable with his bayo when Sloan caught up to him. She ran full force into him and threw her arms around his neck.
“I love you. I’m going with you. You’re never getting rid of me,” she said between planting frantic kisses on his face. “When do we leave?”
Cruz claimed her mouth in a devastating kiss. When they finally came up for air, he found the presence of mind to ask, “What about Three Oaks?”
“Ask Luke. Three Oaks is his responsibility now.”
Cruz swung her in a circle, laughing aloud in relief. “I love you, Cebellina. I will do my best to make you happy.”
“Spending my life with you will make me happy. Watching our children grow will make me happy. Loving you will-”
He cut her off when his mouth captured hers. And from the smile that rose on her lips beneath his, there was no doubt she was the happiest woman in the Republic.
Epilogue
TEXAS
FEBRUARY 19, 1846
SLOAN STOOD WITH BAY AND CRICKET AND stared at the headstone that had just been erected beside Rip’s. It had seemed appropriate to place the second headstone here, beneath the sheltering branches of the majestic live oak that had taken root long before there was a Republic, and would be here long after Texas had achieved greatness as a state of the Union.
The strong one, the gentle one, and the rebel all bowed their heads in respectful acknowledgment of what death had taken and what it had left behind.
The sound of children’s laughter could be heard in the distance as the three women paid homage to their father by sharing this momentous occasion with him in the only way they could.
The three sisters weren’t left alone
for long. Cruz joined Sloan and handed her the tiny child that moved restlessly in his arms. “I think Ana María is hungry.”
Sloan took her daughter and cradled her close to her breast. Cruz moved up behind her and slipped his arms around her to help support the child.
Long Quiet stepped up to Bay and circled her very pregnant body with his long arms. Meanwhile, Creed handed Cricket their sleeping daughter, Miranda, whom they had nicknamed Muffin, and slipped his arm around her slim waist, pulling her snug against him. Luke and Tomasita strolled over to join them, their fingers clasped and trailing occasionally across Tomasita’s slightly mounded abdomen, their son Rafael in tow.
“Whose idea was it to put up the second headstone?” Cruz asked.
“Mine,” Sloan admitted.
“But Bay found the marble,” Cricket said.
“And Cricket found the man to carve it,” Bay added.
“It’s beautiful, and a fitting tribute,” Creed said. “You should be proud of yourselves.”
The three sisters shared smiles of remembered times as they leaned back into the shelter of their husbands’ arms and read the messages they had left for posterity.
On Rip’s gravestone had been carved:
RIP STEWART
Beloved Father
And on the second marble stone:
THE REPUBLIC OF TEXAS
1836-1845
LONG MAY SHE LIVE IN MEMORY
“Guess the Texas flag is coming down at Washington-on-the-Brazos about now,” Luke said, “and being replaced by the Stars and Stripes. President Anson Jones will be handing over power to the new governor, Pinckney Henderson, and Sam Houston and Tom Rusk will be on their way to Washington as Texas’s first two senators. Hard to believe it’s really happening.”
“It’s happening, all right,” Sloan murmured. “It’s just too bad Rip-”
Whipp’s gleeful shout, “Pick me up!” as he discovered where his father, Long Quiet, had disappeared to, startled Ana María, who began to cry with all the strength of a lusty six-week-old. Meanwhile, Cisco cheered in triumph as he discovered a bag of cherry sticks amid the several baskets of food, while Cricket’s three-year-old daughter Jesse trailed in his footsteps, babbling with excitement, her eyes wide with wonder at this unexpected delight.
Sloan laughed at the cacophony of children’s demands and said, “I guess that’s about all the peace and quiet we’re going to get today.”
Cricket agreed with a chuckle. “I just heard Jesse begging for a cherry stick. If I hope to get that child to eat anything wholesome at all on this picnic, I’d better intercept that candy.”
“You are wise to make sure she grows up strong,” Long Quiet said. “For as the children grow, so grows the new state of Texas.”
“Are you saying we women hold the future in our dainty hands?” Sloan asked with a teasing smile.
Luke grinned. “In your dainty hands, and your burgeoning bellies.” He swept Tomasita into his arms and swung her in a circle. Her delighted laughter was interrupted by his quick, hard kiss.
Smiling, her face aglow with happiness, Sloan turned to Cruz and took the hand he held outstretched to her. They walked together toward the blankets that had been laid out for the picnic. She sat down and leaned back against the lightning-scarred trunk of the live oak, unbuttoning her dress to nurse her child.
Sloan looked up into the adoring eyes of her husband, then let her gaze drift to the sight of her family gathered around her. Life was beautiful in Texas. Life was sweet. There was no doubt the future belonged to the sisters of the Lone Star.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
On July 4, 1845, the Texas Congress voted at Washington-on-the-Brazos to accept the American offer of annexation and to begin work on a state constitution. Of the men who drafted the Texas constitution, only one was born in Texas. Eighteen writers came from Tennessee, eight from Virginia, seven from Georgia, six from Kentucky, and five from North Carolina. The constitution was approved, along with annexation, by a vote of 4000 to 200 on October 13, 1845.
Texas entered the Union on December 29, 1845, when American President James Knox Polk signed the annexation proposal. The actual transfer of power from the officers of the Republic to the state’s new leaders didn’t occur until a ceremony held on February 19, 1846.
Before the annexation treaty was even ratified, President Polk sent General Zachary Taylor to Texas with a small army from the United States. It was not a wasted effort. As predicted, Mexico and Texas went to war. In fact, hostilities had commenced by April 1846.
By the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, ratified in July 1848, the United States made peace with Mexico. For $15 million and an agreement to assume all Mexican debts, the United States purchased from Mexico the areas now comprising California, New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, Nevada, Wyoming, and a part of Colorado, and Mexico relinquished all claims to Texas, with its boundary set, as it is today, at the Rio Grande.
Dear Readers,
Texas Woman is the final book in the Sisters of the Lone Star trilogy, which also includes Frontier Woman (Cricket’s story) and Comanche Woman (Bayleigh’s story). I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about these three unique sisters-and the wonderful men in their lives-as much as I’ve enjoyed writing about them.
If you’d like to read about the modern-day Creeds, Coburns and Guerreros, be sure to pick up my Bitter Creek series The Cowboy, The Texan, and The Loner.
I always appreciate hearing your comments and suggestions. You can reach me through my Web site, www.joanjohnston.com.
Happy reading,
Joan Johnston
October 2003
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times bestselling and multi-award-winning author Joan Johnston has written fifteen historical romance novels and twenty-two contemporary romances. She received a master of arts degree in theater from the University of Illinois and was graduated with honors from the University of Texas School of Law at Austin. She is currently a full-time writer who lives in South Florida.
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Texas Woman Page 31