“No, it is more than that. How did you garner his approval so quickly? It took weeks after my father died before I had earned his acceptance and respect. You have done it in eight days.”
“I didn’t do anything special that I know of,” Sloan said. “Just dug in and went to work like I would have at Three Oaks.”
Cruz heard in her description of her actions what she hadn’t known how to explain. What other woman would have worked side by side with his vaqueros? None that Cruz knew.
He had never before comprehended how much this woman needed a position
For the past four months, he had-no matter that it had been by necessity-kept her separate from the work on Dolorosa that was so much of his life. He saw now the mistake he had made. He only hoped it was not too late to make amends, and to offer her a life she would willingly share with him.
“You have done very well, Cebellina. There are some things I will need your help to get accomplished in time for the spring roundup.”
Sloan relaxed, realizing she had been braced for criticism and received praise. Not only that, but Cruz seemed both eager and willing to have her help. “I’ll do anything I can,” she offered. “Before we get started, there is someone else who has been waiting to see you.”
Sloan went to the door and called for Josefa, who arrived moments later with Cisco in tow. As soon as he saw Sloan, the little boy came running and leaped into her arms. Sloan picked him up, and chattering happily together, they walked across the room to Cruz’s bedside.
Cruz was astounded-and pleased-at this sudden change in Sloan’s behavior toward her son. It was another miracle for which he saw no clear explanation. “You two look happy.”
“Cisco and I have something we have to tell you.”
“Good news, I hope.”
“Good for Betsy,” Sloan replied.
“Betsy’s Uncle Louis came to get her,” Cisco explained as Sloan set him down on the bed next to Cruz. “She is going to live on his farm.”
“It must have been sad to say good-bye to her.”
“
Sloan sat down on the bed beside Cisco. “But Cisco said he would play with me and keep me from being so lonely. And you know… I’m not.” She smiled at Cisco and gave him a big hug.
Cruz felt a queer tug in his chest. They would be a family now, he and Sloan and Cisco. Somehow she had put the past behind her and offered them all a chance at a future together.
Then he remembered the reason she had fled into the storm. He had brought the past once more into the present, apparently consorting with the Mexicans-just like his brother, Tonio-against the interests of the Republic. Did Sloan think she had married a dishonorable man, a traitor to Texas?
She had said nothing this morning about his activities as the Hawk, had asked no questions about why the Englishman had visited Dolorosa. It appeared that she did not intend to do so. Why? he wondered. Had she forgiven him?
He did not think so, not when his crime had been such a clear echo of Tonio’s. But if she had not forgiven him, why was she being so helpful? Why hadn’t she run home to Three Oaks when he had been unable to stop her?
He had learned long ago to let sleeping dogs lie. There would be time in the weeks ahead to find out how Sloan felt, to explain what he could, and to excuse what he couldn’t. For now he had to learn to share with her, to include her in the parts of his life that he had hitherto kept separate.
After Cisco had visited with Cruz for a while, Josefa came to get him. Sloan once more closed the door, shutting out everyone else, but this time, instead of coming to sit beside Cruz, she leaned back against the door, her eyes on the polished toes of her boots.
“There is one more thing we need to discuss.” She looked up and met his inquiring gaze.
Cruz sat up slowly. “What is that?”
“Tomasita has changed her mind about marrying Don Ambrosio.”
He frowned. Did she think to make this decision for him also? However much he realized the necessity of sharing responsibility with her, he still bridled at the newness of it. Here was something that need not be her concern. “Tomasita will do as she is told,” he said. “I have already signed the contracts with Don Ambrosio. It is done.”
Sloan didn’t miss the irritation in his voice. His face was pale and dotted with perspiration. She crossed to him and put a hand on his shoulder to force him back flat on the bed. “Rest now. We can speak again later.”
“I have nothing more to say on the subject.”
“Very well. Then say nothing more,” she said with asperity.
Sloan brushed the sweat-damp hair from his brow as though it were the most natural gesture in the world. “Go to sleep now. Rest and get well.”
The feelings of love that welled inside her made her uncomfortable. How could she love him and distrust him at the same time? Could she ever forgive him for masquerading as the Hawk?
She had promised him six months. She had six weeks left until the end of April. She need not think about leaving him now. That could come later.
Sloan stayed with Cruz until she was sure he was asleep and then went hunting for Tomasita. She found her kneeling at the prie-dieu in her room. Sloan entered the room silently and stood inside the door, listening to the quiet, comforting murmur of the young woman’s voice.
“Tomasita?”
Tomasita stood immediately and crossed to Sloan. “Is something wrong? Has something happened to Don Cruz?”
“No, he’s fine. I wanted to talk with you. Shall we go for a walk?”
Tomasita followed Sloan out to the courtyard among the blooming jonquils. She took a seat on one of the stone benches and patted the place beside her. Once Sloan had joined her, she said, “Something is wrong. What is it?”
“Cruz is determined that you will marry Don Ambrosio. Which means if you plan to tell Luke about the baby before you make your decision whether to return to Madrid, it must be soon.”
“Holy Mary.” Tomasita put a hand to her pounding heart. “I cannot speak to Luke. I cannot.”
“You must. You owe it to your child. You owe it to yourself.”
“I will think about it.”
“Think hard. And think fast. You haven’t much time. Once Cruz recovers, he is sure to press for your marriage to Don Ambrosio. You’ll find Luke at Three Oaks,” Sloan said. “He’s gone there to oversee the spring planting of cotton.”
Sloan felt a tightening in her belly at the recognition that this year, for the first time in her life, she hadn’t been on hand to set the cotton seeds in the fertile soil to sprout and grow. She had been busy with an entirely different kind of birth-thousands and thousands of longhorn cattle dropping their spring calves. She had found the experience equally miraculous and equally demanding.
Over the next few days, as Cruz regained his strength, the March weather remained fractious, and Sloan was kept busy with the calving that went on despite the wind and the rain. However, each day she found time to ask Tomasita whether she had done anything about approaching Luke.
For her part, Tomasita found herself unable either to seek out Luke or approach Don Cruz, terrified of the responses she would get.
What if Luke would not marry her?
What if Don Cruz refused to allow her to return to Spain?
What if he did send her back to the convent?
And so she did not do anything.
With Tomasita’s wedding day rapidly approaching, Sloan took matters into her own hands. She sent a message to Luke telling him that she needed to speak with him and to please come to Dolorosa as soon as he could, and left the rest up to fate.
To Sloan’s surprise, she received a prompt message back from Luke.
If she had been the only one involved, Sloan might have refused the offer to come visit Three Oaks. It was bound to be a painful venture for her. Besides, she didn’t want Cruz anywhere near Beaufort LeFevre.
