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

from the wagon, Rosa carried her son on her hip and swiftly unfastened the tarpaulin with one hand, folded it twice, and draped it over the food basket, urging her daughters to hurry. When John came after them, and he would come, he must not find them on the mesa. Fear of her mother’s angry spirit would not keep him from pursuing them if they were out in the open. It was the canyon that disturbed him, andalthough everyone in the Arboles Valley had heard that the Chumash Indians had once lived in caves hidden within the rocky cliffs, only those who had explored the canyon knew where they were. Even if fear did not keep John away, his ignorance of the canyon’s secret places might help Rosa and the children elude him.
    The rain made the climb down the switchbacks precarious. The children often stumbled, and Rosa grew hoarse encouraging them over the sound of the driving rain. She urged them along ever more swiftly, past the steep walls where cacti and chalk liveforever clung, past the waterfall that tumbled over rocky outcroppings into the Salto Creek. There, live oak trees provided some shelter from the storm, but soon the trail led them into the open again, deeper within the canyon but still far too close to the mesa. If John spotted them from above, he would pursue them. They had to be out of sight completely to have any chance of escaping him.
    The way grew steeper, too steep for small hands and feet, so Rosa told the girls to leave their makeshift bags on the rocks. Unfolding the tarpaulin, she quickly flung it over their bags and baskets and held up one edge so Ana and Lupita could duck beneath it. “I’ll be right back,” she told them. “Don’t move.”
    “Don’t leave us!” cried Lupita.
    “I’ll be right back,” Rosa repeated, bending to kiss them. Ana put her arm around Lupita’s shoulder and tugged the tarpaulin over them.
    Carrying Miguel, Rosa led Marta up to the cave she thought would afford them the best shelter—it was large enough for them to stand comfortably, the entrance was partially concealed by scrub and brush, and the path to it was visible only if one knew precisely where to look. When they reached the cave,Rosa handed Miguel to Marta and went back down for the other girls, leading Ana up first to get her out of the rain, and then going back for Lupita, the younger but stronger of the pair. When they were safe, she returned for their clothes and food and the valises, making several trips and often glancing to the rain-drenched skies, expecting any moment to hear angry shouts and see John glaring down at her.
    At last they were all within the cave, too cold and miserable to speak or to do anything but sit and shiver and gaze out at the silver sheets of water streaming over the mouth of the cave. Rosa had matches but no dry wood to burn, no means to build a fire. Then she remembered her mother’s quilts, and after wringing rainwater from her long hair, she told the children to change into dry clothes and gather around her. When they were all huddled together, she threw the quilts over them. “It’ll be all right,” she told them, forcing a confidence she did not feel into the words, as they shivered and watched the mouth of the cave and waited. “It will be all right.”
    “What if Papa comes after us?” asked Ana.
    “He won’t,” said Marta, glancing up at her mother with a silent plea for confirmation.
    “What about the horses?” Lupita chimed in. “We can’t leave them in the rain.”
    “We can’t bring them in here,” Marta pointed out.
    “They’ll be fine on the mesa,” said Rosa. “There’s no lightning, and they don’t mind a little rain shower.”
    “Papa will see them and know where we are,” said Ana.
    “The horses will be all right and so will we,” said Rosa, but she could not promise them that John would not eventually come. Involuntarily, her gaze went to the two valises leaning up against the wall of the cave, the brown leather striped blackfrom