Texas Woman

Josefa had been included.

Cruz looked at Tomasita and saw the young woman was mortified by the battle that had been taking place around her. He knew she must be confused by his mother’s attempts to throw them together, especially as she had no notion of their betrothal. The sooner he could find a proper husband for her, he thought, the better.

Two men had seemed particularly attentive to Tomasita at the fandango. Both had his approval, and he had noticed that Tomasita did not look at either of them in distaste.

Ambrosio de Arocha was a fine man and a wealthy ranchero, as was Joaquin Carvajal. Don Ambrosio had been widowed recently, and Joaquin was looking for a well-bred wife. Cruz made up his mind that if one or both of the men did not approach him in the near future, he would seek them out and invite them to dinner.

Surely a little more time spent in Tomasita’s delightful company would convince one of them to offer for her.

“What do you say, Tomasita?” Cruz asked. “Would you like to go on a picnic?”

“I…” Tomasita chanced a quick look at Dona Lucia’s fulminating expression and finished, “Whatever you decide will be fine with me.”

“Then it is settled. You will come with us.”

Dona Lucia rose, curtly excused herself and left the room.

It was only after she was gone that anyone dared to speak, and then it was Cisco who said, “I am glad Tomasita can come on our picnic, Papa.”

Sloan was startled to hear Cisco call Cruz Papa, and noticed suddenly that anyone who did not know the truth could easily believe they were father and son. Cisco had Cruz’s blue eyes, the same noble nose, and a cleft in his chin that was a miniature of Cruz’s. Tonio’s only legacy to the child appeared to be Cisco’s smile-one side of his mouth tilted higher than the other in the same way as Tonio’s had.

The fear of succumbing to her son’s charm kept Sloan quiet through the breakfast of corn tortillas and scrambled eggs garnished with a spicy tomato sauce. She spoke when spoken to, but didn’t participate in the lively conversation carried on between Cisco and Cruz, which was joined occasionally by Tomasita.

She noticed Tomasita seemed more relaxed with Dona Lucia gone from the room, and she didn’t appear disturbed by the fact that Cruz had only invited her to come along on the picnic at his mother’s insistence.

Perhaps the young woman was not as attracted to Cruz as Sloan had at first suspected. She wondered whether Tomasita would approve Cruz’s choice of husband for her with as much docile acceptance. She felt a little sorry for the young woman, whom she had begun to sincerely like.

Once they were on their way in the carriage, Sloan enjoyed the ride across the grassy plains dotted with mesquite trees and patches of catclaw cactus. When she saw the huge ancient live oak appear on the top of a grassy hillock on the horizon, she was very glad she had come.

“Look at all the flowers!” Tomasita exclaimed, jumping from the wagon as Cruz pulled the horses to a stop at the outermost edge of the live oak.

Cisco followed with Josefa in tow, investigating the various fall wildflowers to be found. The tree made an umbrella of shade as large as the entire plantation house at Three Oaks. The live oak branches dipped low in some places and were gnarled and curved with the weight of years. Spanish moss draped the boughs like a shawl, lending majesty to the huge old tree.

“I love this spot,” Sloan said softly when she joined them. “It has to be the most beautiful place in Texas.”

Sloan felt Cruz step up behind her. His voice, soft in her ear, sent chills down her spine. “It is the memory of the hours I spent here with you in this place that I cherish.”

Sloan knew then it had been a good thing that Tomasita and Josefa had been included in the picnic plans. She would never have been able to resist Cruz’s entreaties in this magic place.

Sloan silently shared those moments of the past with Cruz-the moment when his lips had first touched hers and the first spark of sexual awareness had passed between them. She felt the invisible bond that stretched between them and shut her eyes against its power.

Cisco’s tug on her hand interrupted the tense moment.

“Come and see, Mama, and you too, Papa. I found a ladybug.”

Sloan kept her face blank as Cisco took each of them by a hand and led them to a delicate tulip-shaped flower growing on the banks of a nearby spring. He squatted beside it, pulling the two of them down beside him, and then released their hands to point to the tiny red-and-black-spotted bug crawling on the white petal. “There she is. Do you see her?”

“I see her,” Sloan said.

Cisco looked up at Cruz. “Is she not pretty?”

“Yes, she is very pretty,” Cruz said. But his eyes sought out Sloan when he spoke.

For a moment Sloan wished things could have been different, that she could have met Cruz first and never given her love to his brother, that Cisco had been Cruz’s son.

But he wasn’t. The sooner she divorced herself from this make-believe family, the better. She rose abruptly, leaving Cruz on one knee beside Cisco. “I’m going to help Tomasita and Josefa put out all that food we brought along.”

“Do not leave, Mama, I-”

“I have to go,” Sloan said brusquely. When she saw the hurt look in her son’s eyes and the anger in Cruz’s, she whirled and hurried away.

She looked back over her shoulder and saw Cruz and Cisco with their heads bent close together and felt a painful ache in her chest. If only… if only… If only pigs had wings they could fly, she thought with a rueful shake of her head.

“What can I do to help?” she asked as she joined the other two women.

“We are nearly finished,” Tomasita said to Sloan. As Josefa left to retrieve another quilt from the wagon to spread on the ground, Tomasita said, “If you like, you can fill those cups with tea from that jug.”

As Sloan poured the tea, she asked, “Do you miss Spain, Tomasita?”

“I miss my friends in the convent,” Tomasita replied wistfully. “Although many of the girls my age had already been claimed by their husbands-to- be as-” Tomasita stopped abruptly. She had been about to say, “as I was claimed by Don Cruz,” before she realized she was not supposed to know about their betrothal.

“Would you like to be married?” Sloan asked, unable to curb her curiosity. Sloan was surprised by the perplexed expression that appeared on Tomasita’s face.

“I do not know.” Tomasita was glad for the opportunity to express her doubts to another woman. “I do not think I would like to marry just any man,” she said. “But if the man were strong and courageous and handsome, then perhaps it would not be so bad.”

Sloan noticed that Tomasita’s eyes had unconsciously sought out Cruz while she was speaking.

“You did not mention love,” Sloan said.

Tomasita turned shyly to Sloan. “Oh, do you think it is possible I will fall in love? I have read the tales of the knights in armor and their lady loves. I had hoped… but I do not think I have ever felt that way. I mean, I have had so little to do with men… How will I know when I am in love?”

“When the right man-” Sloan bit her lip to cut herself off. She remembered a story she had told Cricket once, a story about fur boots and how you could have boots made of a lot of different kinds of fur, but one fur would feel better than all the rest. So, too, with a man-one stood out among the others.

Sloan looked at Tomasita’s expectant face. Cruz had said he would choose a husband for the girl. It was wrong to put ideas into Tomasita’s head that might never be realized. “When the right man comes along, you’ll know,” Sloan said. “I can’t really explain it any better than that.”

Fortunately for Sloan, Josefa returned from the carriage, cutting off Tomasita’s next question.

After they had eaten a hearty meal, they rested for a while and then followed Cisco’s suggestion, seconded by Tomasita over Josefa’s frowning objection, that they play tag.

Sloan had been searching for a way to throw off her worries, and the idea of frolicking around like a filly in a field of high grass sounded wonderful. “I think playing tag is a great idea,” she had agreed.

Cisco was “it” when they began, and he quickly tagged Cruz, who had been halfhearted in his efforts to escape the toddler. When Cruz began to chase Sloan, thinking how pleasant it would be to touch her, even in so innocent a game, he found her surprisingly fleet of foot.

“You’ll never catch me!” She laughed and twirled out of his way.

In her frantic escape, Sloan ran directly across Tomasita’s path. Cruz tripped over Tomasita’s heel as Sloan fled with a shriek of delight.

Cruz shouted a warning and grabbed Tomasita to protect her from his weight as they tumbled to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. When they finally stopped rolling, Cruz had come to rest atop Tomasita, their bodies pressed together from breast to hip. For a moment they were both too stunned to react.

Sloan waited for Tomasita’s lively laughter to erupt, but heard an indrawn breath instead. Tomasita’s head was turned toward her, and Sloan saw the other woman’s face was flushed with excitement and… awareness.

Cruz appeared mesmerized by the sight of the woman beneath him, and Sloan knew he had to be feeling Tomasita’s full breasts and flat belly. Sloan sucked in a breath of air and held it, waiting to see what would happen next.

Josefa’s shrill voice collided with the sound of Cisco’s childish giggle as the two of them converged on the couple lying on the ground.

“You’re ‘it,’ Tomasita!” Cisco shouted.

“Don Cruz! You must get up,” Josefa cried.

Cruz was off Tomasita in an instant. When he would have extended a hand to assist her up off the ground, Josefa stepped between them and put a work-worn hand under Tomasita’s elbow to help her rise.

Josefa brushed the dust and grass off Tomasita’s wool skirt and straightened the loose cotton camisa that had slipped off one shoulder, all the while muttering, “I warned you not to play at children’s games. It is not seemly for a young woman to cavort like a child. When Dona Lucia hears-”