Sonoma Rose: An Elm Creek Quilts Novel Read Online Free Page A

never speak of it again. He coveted Rosa, and silence was the price he paid for keeping her as his wife. In the years that followed, the other children Rosa had borne after Marta had fallen ill before their fifth birthdays—except for Lupita, whose continued good health was, in John’s eyes, a mockery of his willingness to forgive Rosa’s first betrayal.
    “I just came for the mail,” said Elizabeth steadily. She could not know the significance of Lupita’s age, the reason for John’s fury.
    John threw her a look of utter contempt and strode offtoward the children’s room in the back of the adobe. At the sound of Lupita’s cry of fear, Rosa drew in a shaky breath and gripped the back of the rocking chair so hard her knuckles turned white. Elizabeth put her arm around Rosa’s shoulders, but quickly released her when Rosa flinched from the pain of pressure on her recent injuries. Sometimes John remembered to be careful about hitting her only where her clothes would conceal the evidence.
    Without warning John returned. Rosa drew back but not quickly enough to evade his grasp. He seized her by the shoulders and shook her. “Where is he?”
    “I don’t know,” Rosa choked out, fighting for breath. “He’s not here.”
    Elizabeth tried to put herself between them, but John knocked her to the floor. She grabbed for the rocking chair as she fell, but her hands slipped and her head struck the floor. Rosa turned to help her, but John seized her by the upper arm and punched her full-force in the face—once, twice, a third time. Her ears rang and her vision grayed over, and just when she felt herself slipping into darkness, John flung her down, kicked her in the side, and left her sprawled on the floor. Over the sound of blood pounding in her ears, she heard the door slam and the roadster roar to life. Somewhere nearby, Elizabeth groaned. Rosa lay on the floor fighting for breath, gritting her teeth to hold back cries of anguish and pain, listening in vain for the children. They were so quiet. She hoped they had hidden themselves. Especially Marta and Lupita—they would be the next targets of John’s rage. When he returned—
    “Are you all right?” said Elizabeth shakily as she clutched the arm of the rocking chair and pulled herself to her feet, her blonde curls in her face.
    Rosa felt blood and tears trickling down her face, and one ofher molars was loose, but she managed a nod. “The children.” Gasping from pain, she hurried to the children’s room and found Marta standing defiantly in front of Miguel’s crib, one arm around each of her sisters.
    “I hate him,” Marta said, fighting back tears. “I hate him. I hope he never comes home.”
    “Oh,
mija
.” Rosa’s composure shattered. Fighting back sobs, she placed her hands on Marta’s face and kissed her on the forehead before hurrying back to the front room to assure Elizabeth that the children were safe, for now. “John’s going after Lars. I’m sure of it.”
    “You shouldn’t be here when he returns,” said Elizabeth. “Gather the children and come with me. You can stay in the cabin with me and Henry.”
    Rosa shook her head. “It’s not safe. We’ll have to pass John on the way.”
    “Then take a room at the Grand Union Hotel. Carlos will look after you.”
    “No.” Rosa knew not even her brother could protect her from John’s vengeance. “I know a better place. A place my husband fears.”
    Elizabeth nodded; she knew the place Rosa meant. “Then take warm clothes and food. It looks like rain.”
    “I have to warn Lars. John keeps a pistol in the car.”
    “I’ll warn Lars.” Elizabeth went to the door. “Pack quickly. Take only what you need. John might double back at any time.”
    Rosa nodded and hurried back to the children. “Marta,
mija
, gather up clothes for you and your sisters and Miguel, enough for a few days. Put them in piles here on the floor. Lupita, help your sister.”
    “I can help too,” said