Joan Johnston - Texas Woman

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.

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.