Rio Read Online Free PDF

carriage.
    The boy at the desk blinked and stared as he nodded.
    Then the girls went outside to await the carriage. It was dusk and many people were coming and going.
    “Well,” Fern said, “I reckon I’d better be headed for home. Daddy will worry about me if I’m not home by dark.”
    “Come by the hotel tomorrow and I’ll tell you all about it.” Turquoise hugged her friend.
    “Oh, I want to hear every word about all the dances andthe high-class gentlemen. Do you think they’re that much different than cowboys?”
    Again the vaquero from this morning came to Turquoise’s mind. “I—I don’t know. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
    About that time, her carriage arrived and Fern said goodbye and left as the driver helped Turquoise in.
    “The governor’s mansion,” she said grandly and he nodded. Turquoise took a deep breath to quiet her nervous stomach. Maybe tonight there would be a Prince Charming at the ball who would fall in love with her and make her so respectable, no one would ever whisper about her again.
    It was a warm dusk outside as the carriage moved down Congress Avenue. Turquoise was so nervous, she kept fiddling with her shawl. “Stop it,” she warned herself. “You look as good as any of those gringa girls. Isn’t Mrs. Whittle an authority on how to dress? Think about meeting the man of your dreams.”
    The man of her dreams. The Mexican vaquero came to her mind unbidden. He’d been so masculine and virile as he labored over Silver Slippers’s hoof, and the way his dark eyes had looked into hers was bold and inquiring. Without thinking, she licked her lips, wondering what his kiss would have been like.
    “We’re here,” the driver leaned down to announce as he stopped before a gigantic house with white pillars. Lights gleamed from every window and dozens of carriages were stopped out front.
    “Oh, just look at all the carriages,” she whispered to herself. “Why, half of Austin must be here.” Her heart was beating hard as the driver came around to help her out. She must remember every detail to tell Fern tomorrow: what the inside looked like, what food was served, and how many gentlemen asked her to dance.
    Oh, suppose no one asks me to dance?
She imaginedherself standing by the wall, waiting. Well, at least Uncle Trace might dance with her.
    The driver opened the door and held out his hand to assist her. Turquoise paused on the step and took a deep breath. This was something she had dreamed of for years, ever since she had read about the debutante ball in the newspapers.
    I am finally here,
she thought. She clutched her fan and glided across the porch and into the grand entrance. There was such a crowd that she could barely get through, although men stared at her and then stepped aside so she could enter.
    “Girls! Girls!” Inside she could hear a shrill feminine voice and the sharp clap of hands. “I am Mrs. Van Hooten, and I am in charge here. Now all you debutantes gather up so I can tell you how we’ll enter.”
    Turquoise pushed her way through to the ballroom where young ladies were gathering around the sharp-voiced, dumpy lady. Turquoise glided over to join them and they all turned to stare at her. Very slowly, it dawned on her that she was dressed completely wrong. She stared at all of them in horror and wanted to turn and run out, but there were too many people standing around in the doorway.
    The other girls were all dressed in demure but expensive white gowns. They had little jewelry but wore long white gloves. She was the only debutante not wearing white. Mrs. Whittle had deliberately set her up to be humiliated. The tittering began and grew, then the whispering. The dowager in charge frowned at her. “Who are you?”
    “I—I am Turquoise Sanchez,” she managed to stammer.
    “Sanchez? I’ve got a Turquoise Sanders on my list.”
    Tittering in the background.
    “No, it’s Sanchez.” Turquoise bit her lip.
    “Hmm, you don’t look Mexican. We never had one