Renegade Love (Rancheros) Read Online Free Page A

Curro’s cruelty or the ordeal she was about to face. The dress had belonged to her mother, and although the lace had faded to the palest of blues, Rosa always thought of it as lovely. It hugged her small frame perfectly, accenting her large breasts and trim waist. The lace ran high up over her chest to cup her throat and ran down her arms to fall gracefully along the back of her hand in a series of graduated ruffles.
    Her mother had worn it for special occasions and her appearance would always bring a broad smile to her father’s face. She brushed at the few tears that spilled from her eyes. Now was not the time to lose control. She needed her wits about her tonight.
    She combed her hair back, twisting it up, and secured it tightly in the back with two dark combs. The severe effect of the style brought out her innocence and natural beauty, highlighting her flushed cheeks, damp eyes, and generous lips tainted a soft pink from the berries she loved to eat as she picked them.
    She was ready. She could delay no longer the night’s event rushing to meet her. She glanced at the wooden cross hanging on the wall above the chest that held her few meager possessions and blessed herself, bringing her folded fingers to her lips as she prayed, “Please, Madre , please help me.”

Chapter Three
    “Perhaps you should finish dressing,” Dona Valerianna suggested to her son. “The Curros and Rosalita will be here shortly.”
    Esteban swirled the dark red wine in the crystal glass he held firmly in his right hand. He kept his eyes on the swirling liquid as he answered his mother. “I am dressed.”
    Dona Valerianna sent her husband, impeccably outfitted in dusty gray, a pleading look. He shook his head and frowned, a signal that advised her not to pursue the matter.
    “If my appearance shames you, I can beg to be excused for the evening,” Esteban said well aware of the silent exchange that had passed between his parents.
    Dona Valerianna was conciliatory. “No, not at all. Your attire is adequate.”
    Esteban raised his glass in a salute. “Thank you, Mother.”
    Dona Valerianna attempted a smile, though not successfully. It barely reached her lips before disappearing.
    Alejandro swallowed the remainder of his wine and poured another. This was going to be a difficult evening. Even though Esteban looked splendid in his black, tight-fitting pants and bolero jacket, his white linen shirt remained open at the throat, an obvious impropriety and one Esteban had no intentions of correcting. And if either Alejandro or Valerianna pursued the matter, Esteban would take his leave.
    Alejandro hoped that his son’s improper behavior would not be the center of village gossip the next day, though knowing the Curros, he held little doubt that their tongues would remain silent.
    “Excuse me, Don Alejandro, the guests have arrived,” Dolores, the Cesare’s longtime housekeeper announced from the doorway.
    Esteban remembered Dolores well, and though she had aged and grown a bit plumper, she still wore her usual vibrant smile and delicious scents still clung to her. He had visited her often in the kitchen when he was young and she would always have his favorite sweet treat ready for him. He had not visited her there since his return, but she had not forgotten his penchant for sweet cakes and cookies. Every night when he returned to his quarters a plate of his favorite sweet treats waited on the table beside his bed. And he was more appreciative of her thoughtful gesture than she would ever know.
    Dona Valerianna hurried to stand and straighten pale pink layers of lace that draped softly from her waist to her feet, while pink linen completed the top portion of the dress. She brushed back the sides of her dark hair to make certain no strands had fallen loose from the intricate braid fastened at the back of her head.
    “Ready?” she asked, her cheeks flushed with anticipation and concern.
    “Ready,” Alejandro said walking over and holding out