by Linda Ladd
"Let's call it a night, Esteban. Conchita's tired, and I have some matters to discuss with Carlisle."
Esteban grinned, obviously aware of the real motive behind Chase's suggestion. "Sí. I am sorry, amigo. I forget myself at times," he said, lowering his brush. He smiled at Carlisle. "Will you sit for me again tomorrow night, Carlita?"
Carlisle nodded, and Chase walked to where she sat, eager to touch her.
"Come, I have my horse outside the gate. You can ride back to the hacienda with me."
Carlisle barely had time to bid Esteban and Conchita good-bye before Chase was leading her out of the patio. She found, however, that she didn't care. She was glad he was home, glad he wanted to be alone with her. He untied his horse from the hitching rail, then looked down at her.
"I've missed you, Carly."
Pleasure ran over her like warm water, and she realized she'd longed for him, too, more than she'd thought.
"Then why did you go off without even saying good-bye?" she asked softly.
"I wasn't sure what to say." He reached out and touched her hair, very gently. "Did you miss me?"
Carlisle felt weakness creeping up her legs. "Sí,” she whispered.
"Bueno, querida," Chase murmured, his fingertips lightly stroking her cheek.
Carlisle closed her eyes as his mouth touched hers, softly, tenderly.
"You told me you'd never kiss me again."
"That's what I thought, but then I saw you tonight looking like an angel, all in white, and I couldn't help myself."
Carlisle had to smile. "Perhaps you should send for Senora Alvarez. She will keep you in your place."
Chase laughed, warm and genuine, with no arrogance, no scorn, and when he put his hands on her waist and lifted her into the saddle, her stomach felt fluttery and unsettled. As he swung up behind her, Carlisle's heart lurched alarmingly. She had no defenses against him. When he touched her, whispered sweet things to her, she could not resist him. She felt like one of El Gato Grande's helpless sparrows.
As Chase walked the horse across the plaza to the road, Carlisle relaxed in his embrace, remembering the day on the journey from Matamoros when he had taken her with him to the creek. He was different now than he had been that day, she could sense it.
"Why were you gone so long, Chase? I was worried about you."
"I thought you'd be glad to be rid of me for a while."
"I don't hate you, you know," she answered, trying to make her answer sound playful.
He was quiet for a moment. "How do you feel about me, Carlisle?"
His question surprised her. She found it a difficult one to answer, because she just wasn't sure.
"Actually, I like you," she said finally, realizing she meant it.
"And I like you, too, Carly," he replied.
Realizing how childish their grudging admissions sounded, they both laughed. When they reached the big house, Chase lifted her to the ground. He smiled down at her.
"Before I left for the village tonight, I ordered comida for us. Will you join me?"
"Sí," Carlisle answered, thoroughly enjoying his politeness. This was a different Chase Lancaster, not cold and heartless, but charming and solicitous. It was almost as if he were courting her favor. She liked this new man, she decided as he took her arm and led her to the patio.
A glass-topped iron table was already set with china and crystal goblets, and as Chase seated her, Rosita came forward with a steaming bowl of rice and frijoles.
"Perdón, Don Chaso, but my little sister has been waiting for you to return. She has a gift for Dona Carlita."
"Little Renate?" Chase said, obviously surprised.
Carlisle looked around for the six-year-old girl who had been following her everywhere for over a week now. She found the child in the shadows of the porch. Renate came forward, curtsying to Chase, then handing Carlisle a small bouquet of white daisies tied together with a red ribbon.
"Gracias, Renate," Carlisle said, touched by the child's devotion. She hugged the little girl close. "I love daisies. They remind me of my garden back in Chicago."
"De nada, Dona Carlita," Renate murmured, beaming with pleasure as she was led away by her older sister.
"I see you're still winning hearts," Chase commented, seating himself across from her.
"She's very sweet. She comes to my room in the morning and talks to me while I dress."
"Sounds like a fascinating pastime," Chase said, blue eyes glinting.
Carlisle grew warm just thinking about Chase in her bedroom, watching her. Immediately, she thought of the night in the gypsy wagon when he'd nearly torn her clothes off in his eagerness to touch her. Swallowing hard, she strove to change the subject.
"Esteban said you had urgent business in Saltillo. I hope it wasn't an illness in your family?"
Chase hesitated before answering, and Carlisle wondered why. Had he learned something about the guerrilleros?
"No. I went there on government business. What have you been doing since I've been gone?"
"Esteban's been teaching me to ride."
"I wanted to do that."
Carlisle was surprised. "Why?"
"Because I thought you'd enjoy the freedom it'd give you."
"I do enjoy it."
"Perhaps I can take over Esteban's job now. Would you object?"
"Of course not."
"Were you lonely here without me?"
Carlisle fingered the stem of her wine goblet. "A little, but I do love it here in Mexico. It's so beautiful with all the flowers and sunshine."
Chase smiled, obviously pleased by her remarks. "Instead of going on to Mexico City, I would like you to stay here a while longer. Would you consider that, querida?"
Carlisle stared at him, mesmerized by the warm invitation in his eyes.
"Will you be here?" she asked.
"Sí. I want to spend time with you. I want to show you I'm not nearly as bad as you think."
Carlisle smiled, more pleased than she should be. "How can I refuse when you ask me in such a nice way?"
"Then you will?"
"Yes. I haven't heard from Arantxa and Javier anyway. I can't imagine why they haven't written to me. They should have reached Mexico City by now, don't you think?"
Chase looked down, then returned his gaze to her. "The post is difficult here in Mexico. I'm sure you'll hear from them eventually."
He smiled, and Carlisle gazed, enraptured, into his handsome face, suddenly much less eager to join her guerrillero friends. Perhaps with Chase treating her so politely, a few more weeks at the Hacienda de los Toros wouldn't be so bad. Indeed, why not enjoy herself?
For the next few weeks, Carlisle did enjoy herself. She spent most of her time with Chase, nearly always in the company of Conchita and Esteban, as well. When the four of them were together, she could see what close friends Chase and Esteban were. Always joking, they often threw outrageously rude remarks at each other, but neither of them ever took offense. At such times they reminded her of how her brothers, Stone and Gray, had acted before the war.
One night in mid-May she was filled with thoughts of her brothers as she sat in front of her mirror and arranged a mantilla over her hair. She wondered if Emerson Clan had received the letter Javier had composed for her while they were aboard the Mayan. Javier had promised to post it from Matamoros before his ship sailed on to Veracruz. She had also written to Gray and Tyler, but she hadn't had any correspondence from them yet. She supposed they were still on their wedding trip.
She shook her head. It was hard to believe more than a month had gone by since she had seen Javier and Arantxa. She couldn't believe they had abandoned her for so long. Something unforeseen must have happened to keep Javier from coming for her. But Chase was proving to be an excellent host, and she liked him more each day. Anyway, she had no choice but to wait for Javier to contact her.
Tonight there was a big fiesta being held in La Mesilla, and Chase was taking her there. Smiling, she realized how happy she
felt. She fussed with the lace mantilla, arranging it in the most becoming angle. For some reason, Chase liked her to wear the white one Esteban had given her for the portrait, and she had chosen it to please him.
Snatching up a shawl, she hurried downstairs. Chase was waiting in the salon, dressed in a tan charro jacket and flared trousers. He turned as she entered the room, and his look alone wreaked havoc on her pulse.
"You're beautiful, querida," he said, but made no move toward her. Since he had returned, he had been so formal and proper that she longed for him to stride across the floor, grab her, and kiss her just as passionately as he had at the gypsy camp. Oh, Lord, was she falling in love with him? She suddenly thought in dismay. And what about Javier? She loved him, too. Or did she?
She felt so confused that she was glad when a sudden commotion outside on the drive caught their attention. Through the open doors she could see several vaqueros astride prancing ponies, each man holding a burning candle.
"They've come to invite you to the fiesta, Carly," Chase told her. "It's the custom."
He led her beneath the arcade, and a young caballero guided his horse to Carlisle, then swept off his black-and-gold sombrero.
"Senorita, honor us by joining our fandango," he said gallantly, leaning down to offer Carlisle a crown of white gardenias.
"Gracias, senor," Carlisle answered. "I am honored."
Her answer pleased the caballero, for he smiled and bowed as his friends doffed their hats and rode on toward the village with a great deal of shouting and jingling of spurs.
"What a beautiful custom," Carlisle murmured, lifting the soft white blossoms to her nose and inhaling their sweet perfume. When Chase came up behind her, she was acutely aware of his closeness.
"The gardenias are for your hair, Carly. May I?"
Carlisle handed him the fragrant circlet, and he carefully placed it atop her mantilla.
"We should go now. It's growing dark, so they'll be shooting off the fireworks soon. And there will be dancing and singing. If I remember right," he said, leading her down the steps to their horses, "you're pretty good at the jarabe."
"You'll let me dance?" Carlisle asked as he helped her to mount. "After what happened with Emilio?"
"Nothing happened with Emilio, thanks to me."
Carlisle smiled, remembering instead, and with vivid clarity, what had transpired that night between Chase and her. She rode beside him to the village, quite comfortable on horseback now. She was excited to see a festive crowd of vaqueros and peasants jostling about in the square. Conchita and Esteban stood waiting for them at the front gate of their house, and the two couples strolled together through the milling throngs, enjoying the sights and listening to the sounds of guitars and marimbas played by músicos who wandered through the crowd.
"Come, Esteban, we must dance!" Conchita cried, dragging her husband off to join the couples twirling in the center of the square.
"What about you, Carly? Do you want to join them?"
"I think I'd rather stay with you," she said and was glad she did because he reached down and laced his fingers through hers.
Hand in hand, they walked along, often stopping and talking to others. Carlisle was impressed by the great respect the villagers showed Chase. After a time, they sat down together to watch the fireworks. Great fiery pinwheels spun with blazes of sparks and loud explosions, and Carlisle laughed at the way the children ran and shrieked with terror at each loud bang.
"Carly?"
She looked at Chase and found him watching her, his face serious.
"Yes?"
"I have to talk with you."
Chase glanced around as if reluctant to begin, and Carlisle sensed something was wrong. She waited warily.
"I'm sorry, but I have to leave the hacienda again."
Dismayed, Carlisle searched his face. "But why? Where are you going?"
"I have to go to Mexico City to see the president."
"But that's all right. You can take me with you, can't you? Arantxa and Javier are probably waiting there for me."
"No. I can't do that."
"Why? That was our plan all along—to visit here first and then go on to Mexico City."
"Things are different now."
Carlisle frowned. "How are they different? What are you talking about?"
"I don't think Javier and Arantxa are suitable companions for you. I don't want you seeing them." "You have no right to choose my friends," she said quietly, once again afraid that he had uncovered information about Javier's guerrillero stronghold while he was in Saltillo.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Carlisle, but I've found out that the Perez family is embroiled in subversive activities. Gray wouldn't want you to associate with them any more than I do. It could be dangerous."
Several days ago, he'd also received a telegram from Gray, alerting him that Carlisle had told Tyler she planned to elope with the Perez boy while in Mexico. Chase didn't really believe she meant to now; nonetheless, it was more important than ever to keep her out of the capital.
"I don't believe you," she lied, but her voice sounded so nervous that Chase's eyes narrowed. As his gaze moved over her face, she swallowed hard, feeling guilty and deceitful. Oh, Lord, did he suspect her, too? Carlisle thought wildly. Had he discovered that she was involved?
"It's true, Carly."
Despite the fact that he now knew about Arantxa and Javier, Carlisle realized that she felt more distressed over the fact that he was going away without her. "So you're just leaving me and I'm supposed to sit here by myself? How long are you going to be gone?"
"Probably for a month, maybe more. I can't be sure."
"Will you take me with you if I promise not to see Javier and Arantxa?"
Chase hesitated, then shook his head. "I can't. There are other obligations in the city I must attend to—"
"Then don't let me stop you!" Carlisle cried angrily, suddenly suspecting that his pleasant behavior for the last few weeks had been designed expressly to keep her from wanting to join Javier. He'd merely been performing his duty to Gray, nothing more. Trying not to show how hurt she felt, she shrugged a shoulder as if his departure meant nothing to her. "Go on, then, if that's what you want," she told him, standing up before he had a chance to answer. She glanced out at the crowd, looking for Conchita and Esteban. "I believe I want to dance after all."
Chase was frowning as she walked away, but she didn't care. As she threaded her way quickly through the revelers, tears burned her eyes, but she was determined Chase wouldn't see them. Suddenly no longer interested in the fiesta, she hurried across the plaza to the road that led back to the hacienda, intending to walk back to the big house, where she could be alone.
As she skirted the fringe of the crowd near the church, she was caught from behind, a hand clamping over her mouth so tight that she couldn't scream. She struggled desperately, but could not break free as she was dragged backward into the dark shadows of an alley.
"Carlita, do not fight so! It's me!"
Astonished to hear Javier's voice, Carlisle grew still. The moment she did, he released her. She whirled around and found Javier, with Arantxa right behind him. Both were dressed in the white shirt and pants the campesinos wore.
"Javier! Where did you come from? Arantxa, I can't believe it's you! Where have you been?"
Arantxa hugged her tightly, then spoke low and urgently. "Much has happened, but we've finally come for you. We must hurry or someone will see us!"
"Now?"
"Sí," Javier answered. "We've waited nearly three days before we could get you alone like this!"
Carlisle looked around, wondering if Chase might have followed her, but only the shouting and singing of the merrymakers broke the quiet of the night. "I can't just leave without telling anyone. And my clothes are at the hacienda—"
"We have clothes for you," Javier said quickly. "Come on, Carlita, this will be our only chance! Hurry, before we are seen and captured!"
As Ja
vier took her arm and pulled her down dark back streets, a curious dread filled her. But why should she feel so bad? Chase was leaving, wasn't he? He didn't care enough to take her with him, but Javier did. He had come for her, just as he had promised.
Behind the church in the shadow of a high cemetery wall, a group of twenty or more horsemen awaited them.
"Here, Carlita, slip these pants on under your skirt," Javier whispered. "And here's a rebozo to wrap around your hair. No one must recognize you."
Carlisle did as she was told, eyeing the men on the horses, who sat watching them.
"Did you find out anything about Lancaster, Carlita?" Javier asked softly.
"Only that he knows rebels are gathering near Saltillo. He went there several weeks ago, but he wouldn't tell me why, except that it was government business. And he warned me tonight that your family was involved in subversive activities."
"So he does know. Hurry, Carlita, because now we are in even greater danger here! We cannot let him see us!"
Javier's voice was urgent, and despite Carlisle's misgivings about leaving without telling anyone, she mounted the horse he held for her. But as they rode away from La Mesilla and Chase, toward the mountain stronghold of the guerrilleros, she couldn't help but look back and feel regret.
9
As the sun appeared above the mountains, Chase rode along the road bordering his ranch on the north. In his hand Carlisle's white mantilla fluttered in the slight breeze. He looked down at the dainty white lace that had cast spidery shadows over her beautiful face the night before. Lifting it, he inhaled the faint fragrance of her sweet perfume. He shut his eyes, sick inside, his fist tightening around the fragile veil.
Dios, where was she? He looked out over the hilly, uneven terrain around him. All night, his men had combed every inch of the hacienda, but there had been no sign of her—except for the mantilla they'd found in an alley near the plaza.
Scanning the rolling rises to his right, he caught sight of a group of vaqueros searching the banks of a small arroyo. How could this have happened? How could Carlisle just disappear in the middle of a crowded fiesta? He gritted his teeth and turned his stallion's head toward the hacienda.