The Rebel and the Lady. Kathryn Albright
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to learn a few phrases. “How many kisses? Surely a phrase is worth more than one kiss?”
“For now, let’s just enjoy the dance.”
Her breath came in shorter gasps as he twirled her around, making sure to keep her just this side of dizzy. She relaxed the rigid hold she had on her body, her cheeks flushing with color, as she let herself enjoy the music.
“That’s better,” he said, drawing her close again and breathing in the perfumed soap she’d used earlier in the day. “Now, tell me what brings you here to this cow town in the middle of winter.”
She gave him a sweet, evasive smile. “A visit with my cousin, of course.”
“You expect me to believe that?” He paused, studying her face—the straight classic nose, the large smoky eyes. That she couldn’t meet his gaze gave him his answer, but she sure was striking when she was telling a tale.
“Of course I do.”
“What if I said I thought you were lying?”
She faltered in her steps. “You do not know me well enough to say whether I am or not.”
“True—and I’d never argue with such a beautiful señorita, but still you haven’t given me the entire truth.”
The mysterious half smile she bestowed upon him made him catch his breath. “And why should I pour out my heart to you when you will be gone once your horse has healed?”
The candlelight reflected on the soft contours of her face as he drew her closer. “I can only think of one reason.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
Damned if she wasn’t curious! Tempted even. Anticipation had him pulling her nearer. Maybe she’d consider dropping the Spanish lesson after all.
“The music has stopped, Señor Dumont.”
Her words were like the shake of a rattler’s tail—stopping him cold. He looked up to find the men in the band heatedly discussing their next song. He swallowed hard. “So it has,” he said, surprised at what he’d been about to do. It wasn’t like him to lose track of his surroundings. He’d been ready to kiss her right there on the dance floor in front of everyone. A foolhardy thing to do considering her status. The men with her would probably demand a duel or, God forbid, marriage at such an overture.
“If I had let you kiss me, I would have had to slap you, to keep my honor.”
“It would have been worth it.”
Her dark eyes sparkled.
Confidence surged through him. He was enjoying this. For the first time in a long while he was with a woman he could respect and appreciate. Better to keep her off balance with a little cockiness than to let her think he was serious. He was the last person she should get serious about. “One more turn about the floor?”
“Victoria?” Juan said from behind him, his voice stern. “Come back to the table now.”
She looked at her cousin, then back to him, and stepped from his arms. “Sí. Thank you for the dance, Señor Dumont.” Her head high, she placed her hand on Juan’s arm. “Would you care to join us?”
Surprised, his gaze shifted to Juan. The man was not pleased with her request but was too polite to argue.
“You may tell us about your poor horse,” she continued, and with a beguiling smile in his direction, she headed back to the table where Diego waited.
His horse was the last thing on Jake’s mind at the moment. He watched as Victoria disappeared in the midst of the other dancers on her way across the room. Here was a challenge he couldn’t refuse even though it led nowhere. She fascinated him, and apparently she wasn’t completely immune to him, either. He followed her back to the table and settled into the chair across from her.
Captain Seguín motioned for a round of drinks. He waited until the waitress had deposited the mugs of ale and for Victoria, wine. “What is this about your horse?”
The man was just being polite, feigning interest, but Jake appreciated that it was for Victoria’s sake. “I was a day out of town when a cougar startled me and attacked my horse. It clawed his flank. I fired a shot to scare it off.”
“You are lucky it did not hurt you, as well.”
Jake agreed, nodding. “I stitched up the gash as best I could, but it looks to be infected now.”
“What have you used on it?” Victoria asked.
“The doc said to try turpentine.”
She wrinkled her nose and he heard the word barbaric from Diego.
Juan watched him, his gaze steady.
“Doc Pollard said there’s no more medicine for the men, let alone animals. And turpentine was the only thing he could think of that might work, other than warm compresses and prayer.”
“He ran out of any strong medicine over two months ago,” Diego said, leaning his chair back on two legs. “We’re going to need it, too.” The party-like atmosphere evaporated around the table.
“Why are we even here, Juan?” Victoria asked, setting down her glass. “With Santa Anna so close, why are we sitting in a cantina with all these Anglos and celebrating an American named Washington? It makes no sense to me. Why aren’t the soldiers preparing for battle?”
With a glance at Jake, her cousin shook his head at Victoria.
He’s afraid to say anything with me at the table, Jake realized. “I’d be interested in the answer to that, too,” he said. “My brother came here to join the rebels.”
Seguín studied him a moment, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “When Diego returned from scouting south of here, he told Travis how close the Mexican army was but the man has turned a deaf ear. I think he is unable to take the word of a Tejano, even one who will fight at his side.”
The news worried Jake. Wasn’t San Patricio to the south? He tried to remember the map in Travis’s office. “Why are you staying, then? Half the town looks deserted. What makes you stay?”
“My home is here,” Juan said. “It has belonged to my family for generations. The Mexican government does nothing to protect it from the Commancheros. Santa Anna takes our money in taxes but he does not care for the land or its people. I stay because I will fight for an independent Tejas.”
A proud light stole into Victoria’s eyes. “Juan has raised his own force and has his commission from Commander in Chief Austin. He and Diego will not back away from this and neither will I.”
Jake fingered the handle on his mug and tried to imagine caring about his home the way these two seemed to. “And this land of Juan’s…is it yours, too?”
“No.” She hesitated, but then continued. “My family’s land lies farther south, near the Rio Grande.”
She is beautiful, Jake realized, even more so with the zeal of misguided loyalty shining in her eyes. This cause would only bring her despair. He wanted to shake some sense into her. Land wasn’t worth dying for. He’d said as much to his brother when Brandon had brought up the subject.
Diego tipped his beer toward Jake. “Yesterday, in his office, Travis said you were good with a gun. What do you carry?”
“A.40 caliber flintlock—a Dickert.”
Diego gaze shifted to Juan, apparently impressed with the rifle.
“It’s a good shot… 270-300-yard accuracy.”
Diego snorted. “A rifle is only as true as the man who aims it. Where did you learn to shoot?”
“I’ve done a bit of hunting in my time, and scouting. My accuracy is what kept me alive.” He looked from Juan to Victoria, not liking the speculation in their