"I'll never fit into one of your dresses, Maria. You're at least four inches shorter than me. And quite a bit wider these days, as well."

Maria waved her hand and led the way to the bedrooms at the back of the house. "Juan's madre left some things here the last time she visited, since she knew she would come back when the baby arrived. You can wear something of hers. She'll never miss one dress." They reached what was obviously the guest room, and Maria went to the French armoire, obviously imported from the United States or maybe even France. Angelina's father had installed the furnishing in every one of their bedrooms at home to avoid the sight of clothes hung upon the walls. Many of the wealthy families had followed his example.

Maria opened the doors of the armoire to reveal several dresses. "This"-she pulled one out with a smile -"will look beautiful on you."

Angelina had to admit the dusty rose shade would flatter her coloring, but the depth of the neckline made her flinch. "I'd better not," she said.

"Nonsense. You cannot wear that rag to dinner. I won't allow it. Now, take it off, and I'll send someone in with hot water."

The promise of a hot bath made the decision for Angelina. She would only wear the dress for one night, she assured herself; then she would be back on the trail again. Once she reached home, there would be more modest gowns at her disposal.

"All right," she agreed and smiled at Maria's delight.

"Wonderful. When you're dressed, join me in the parlor, and we'll have lemonade." She turned, and if her body would have allowed it, Angelina was sure Maria would have skipped out the door.

An hour later, after a languid soak in the tub, Angelina stood in front of the mirror. Luckily for her, Juan's mother was a bit thicker through the waist as a result of having children. Angelina no longer owned a corset, one of the many advantages of becoming a nun. Once she got home she supposed she would have to be strapped into that torturous device once more in order to fit into her own clothes. The prospect did not bring a smile to her face.

However, the dress she wore now did. She had not felt silk against her skin for a year, and the color was too lovely to be denied. If there was one thing she did not like about the convent it was the absence of beauty. The only place she could indulge her love for bright colors and differing textures was in church. There the paintings and tapestries and windows of colored glass warred with each other for precedence in a battle for the master of the exquisite.

She ran her hand over the skirt and sighed. Mother superior would have an attack if she could see Angelina now. Most of her chest was revealed, as well as the tops of her breasts. Her skin glowed like warm honey against the delicate shade of the fabric. She'd braided her hair and twisted it up while still damp. Loose tendrils curled against her neck, creating a soft frame for her face.

What will Charlie think?

The thought came unbidden, causing her to blink in surprise. She had never before cared what a man thought of her. Where had such a question come from?

Putting such vanities from her mind with an effort, Angelina walked briskly from the room and joined Maria in the front parlor.

"Oh, you look beautiful," Maria breathed. "Your man will be speechless."

Angelina plopped down on the settee, another import from the looks of the furnishing, and scowled. "Maria, he is not my man. I'm a postulate. I'm going to be a nun. I cannot have a man. Charlie is taking me to my parents. That's all."

"I've seen the way he looks at you, Angelina, and the way you look at him. I'm not blind. If there isn't something going on between you now, there soon will be."

Angelina grabbed a glass of lemonade from the tray and took a healthy gulp. Maria was too close to the truth for comfort. "You're mistaken," she said when she had her voice under control. "He is merely escorting me home."

"Maybe he is. But that doesn't change what I see." Maria leaned forward and placed her hand over Angelina's. "I wonder why you are not yet a novice? Shouldn't you have taken those vows already? I understood you would be a postulate for only six months."

Angelina took another swallow of lemonade to give herself a moment to think. Maria might act flighty, but she knew people. She could get anyone to talk to her just by asking quiet, concerned questions until the person gave in and told her everything.

"The mother superior did not think I was ready to become a novice yet. She wished for me to think on my calling a while longer. Then there was sickness, and I had other things to attend to that were more important than the ceremony that would make me a novice."

"I see. So the mother superior did not think you should be a nun either?"

"What do you mean either? You've known me all my life. You know how much I wanted to be with the Sisters. How can you ask me such a thing?"

"I want you to be happy. I understand your devotion to your beliefs. But I've also seen you with children. You won't be happy without them in your life." Maria laid her hand upon her distended belly with an absent gesture. Angelina's gaze followed her friend's hand, and she swallowed deeply against the lump of envy in her throat.

"I have the children I teach."

Maria laughed. "That's not the same and you know it. This man you are with. There is something between you. I sense it. You'll be happier with him than you ever could be in a convent. Believe me. I know."

"You're happy?" Angelina looked deeply into her friend's eyes. "With Juan?"

"Oh, yes. He's everything I ever wanted. Strong, manly, proud. We have this place"-she placed her hand over her belly-"and the nino on the way. I am in heaven on earth."

"You love him then?"

"Love?" Maria's face took on a puzzled expression before she said slowly, "I suppose I do love him. Now. Yes, of course I love the father of my child."

"You should have said something before, Maria. If you'd told your parents you loved him, then maybe he wouldn't have been promised to me, and we could have avoided all the embarrassment."

"Oh, I didn't love him then." Maria's eyes were round with shock. "When you went to the convent he was so hurt, so embarrassed, I felt sorry for him. We got to know each other and one thing led to another. We moved out here to avoid all the talk nearer home."

Angelina winced. She had always known she'd caused a scandal with her refusal to marry Juan, but once she'd gone off to the convent, she had forgotten all about him. She hadn't realized her actions would affect his life for so long. A wave of shame washed over her at her selfishness. But then, things had worked out for the best since he and Maria now had each other. Once she left again, they would forget about the past just as she had.

At the sound of several horses coming toward the house, they both stood and moved to the window. Juan and Charlie were back, accompanied by at least a dozen men.

"Let's go out and greet them," Maria said and led the way to the front door.

The men dismounted as Angelina and Maria approached. When the hands noticed them, something in the air changed. Angelina felt the change and hesitated. Strange, male faces turned toward her, one by one- some smirked, others snickered, several whispered to a companion under their breath.

She shot a confused glance at Charlie and Juan. Juan's eyes met hers first, triumphant, a smug smile curving his lips. He was too happy about something.

Angelina looked at Charlie. In contrast, his eyes were hard, angry, and his mouth formed a grim line. She crossed over to him and whispered, "What happened?"

Snickers erupted from the men, but she ignored them, concentrating instead on Charlie.

"You got trouble, Sister," he muttered. "Big trouble."

Trouble was too mild a word, Charlie thought, for what had gone on all afternoon at the hands of Juan Alvarez. Charlie had ignored the sly looks and the subtle innuendoes all afternoon, though he had been hard pressed not to plant a fist in the middle of quite a few faces. He controlled himself only by remembering Angelina's face when she'd seen her friend. The presence of Maria had made Angelina happy. She had wanted to stay and talk with her friend. For that reason and that reason only, Charlie held his temper in check.

He didn't care what Alvarez and his cronies thought about him. But Angelina was a different matter. She had been the main topic of conversation throughout the afternoon. Though nothing was said outright, the speculation ran rampant. Just what had Angelina Reyes been doing alone with a man in the wilds of Texas?

Charlie reasoned with himself that denial would only fuel the fire of rumor, so he kept his mouth stoically shut and kept working. He had hoped that, once they returned to the house, the men would depart and Alvarez would shut up before Angelina got wind of what was going on. But that was obviously not going to happen. Alvarez had a grudge against Angelina, and he meant to take whatever revenge he could while the taking was good.

The men departed to eat their meal in the combination bunkhouse and cookhouse. Angelina stood next to Charlie, a frown marring the usually smooth skin of her forehead. The one sentence he'd spoken to her before the men erupted into guffaws only hinted at the trouble brewing. He could not bring himself to elaborate with Alvarez's intent gaze capturing their every move. When Angelina tried to draw him aside to talk, he shook his head sharply and followed their hosts toward the house.

"Later," he hissed, and her worried frown deepened. If he had anything to say about it, they'd be on their way before daybreak tomorrow, and this issue would be left behind them.

As the four of them sat down to dinner, Charlie had a chance to notice what Angelina wore. How could he have overlooked it before?

He blinked, once, twice. She was lovely. He'd always known she was beautiful, even in the ugliest of clothes, but now he could see that beautiful was only a word when applied to Angelina Reyes. True, her features were delicate, her neck long and slender, and the tops of her breasts were revealed by the pink gown. Charlie stopped that thought before it went any further. Just the sight of her made him ache with suppressed lust.

He dragged his gaze away from her and encountered Juan Alvarez's smirk.

Damn. What he wouldn't give to smack such smugness from that Spanish gentleman's face.

"Well," Alvarez said expansively as he passed the china platters loaded with chicken and dumplings. "It has been quite a long time, Angelina. I never thought we'd see your face again once you entered the convent."

Charlie glanced at Angelina. She took the platter and smiled, though he noticed the smile did not reach her eyes. "I have not taken my final vows. I am allowed to visit my family before I enter the convent forever."

"Oh, I see. Then you are not truly a nun yet. Well, that makes things clearer, does it not?"

"What things?" Angelina asked.

"Just you and your amigo here." He toasted Charlie with his wineglass.

"What about me and my friend?"

Charlie winced. Why couldn't she just eat and be quiet?

"The way you two are traveling. Alone. An unmarried man, an Anglo, and an unmarried woman, a

criollo. You know how people talk, Angelina."

Maria drew in a sharp, dismayed breath. Angelina glanced at her friend, pursed her lips and laid down her knife carefully beside her plate before turning her full attention to Alvarez.

"Exactly what are you implying, Juan?"

"I'm not implying anything. I'm simply stating facts. Your reputation is ruined, Angelina."

"And I'm sure I can count on you to spread the word. Can't I, Juan?"

He smiled and took another sip of wine before answering. "Of course."

"Juan!" Maria gasped. "How can you say such a thing to Angelina. You of all people should know of her

calling to do God's work."Alvarez's face darkened at the reminder of his humiliation. "Be silent, mujer. I do not need yourinterference in this." He turned back to Angelina. "I find it disgusting that a woman who has supposedly devoted her life to God would flaunt her lover in the face of good Catholic people. And to prefer that yellow-haired, pretty-faced Anglo to me is beyond forgiving."

Angelina didn't answer, but her face turned pale as Alvarez spoke. Her hand fluttered to her throat, then

hesitated when her fingers met flesh. She flushed, obviously embarrassed by the amount of skin revealed by her dress. Her gaze flicked to Charlie's face, and he read the distress in her eyes before she got to her feet.

"I made a mistake in hoping you might have forgiven what I did to you, Juan. I thought maybe you would understand my reasons once I was gone. I believed that since you'd found Maria and started a life together you could get past your bitterness. But I was wrong. I am going to change my dress, and then we will leave."

Head held high, Angelina walked from the room. Sparing only a glare for her husband, Maria followed.

Charlie toyed with his wineglass. His hands, always capable with a gun or a horse, looked large and clumsy next to the fragile crystal filled with rich red liquid.

"And now there are only the two of us," Alvarez said.

"Looks that way. Do you like tormentin' women?"

"Only some."

"Pretty cowardly if you ask me." Charlie glanced up and caught the flash of anger in the man's eyes.

"I did not ask you."

"True enough." Charlie put down the wine, untasted, keeping his gaze on Alvarez. "I feel like a smoke.

Should we go outside?"

Alvarez raised his eyebrows at the polite inquiry. But he nodded and led the way.

When they reached the middle of the yard, he paused and looked at Charlie with a puzzled expression. "You wanted to smoke. Where's your tobacco?"

Charlie chuckled, a gravelly sound that made Alvarez flinch. "I forgot. Don't have none left. The Sister burned it all."

"Then why-" Alvarez trailed off as the true reason for their trip out of doors came to him. "So you are finally going to stand up for the honor of your woman. To tell you the truth I thought you'd have done something before now. But you merely proved my theory that no-account Anglos have no respect for their women."

"I've got more respect for the Sister than a low-down excuse for a criollo gentleman like you could ever imagine. I just wanted to come out here to discuss respect with you. Before we go, you'll apologize to the Sister." Charlie took a step closer to Alvarez and lowered his voice to a whisper. "And you'll make her believe you mean it, even though you and I both know you won't."

"Like hell I will. I wouldn't apologize to that little puta for any amount of money."

"Care to make a bet on that?"

Charlie didn't flinch as he smashed his fist into Alvarez's stomach. When the man doubled over, Charlie brought his knee up to connect with Juan's chin. Alvarez landed on his back in the dirt. Charlie knelt next to him and grabbed the man by his shirt front. Though Juan was groggy from the blow, he focused on Charlie's face when Charlie shook him.

"Listen to me, Alvarez. You're one disgustin' excuse for a man. I don't want to hear one more word out of you against Angelina, and you'd better make sure your men keep quiet, too. Because if I ever hear any of that crap you were spouting about her out of anyone else's mouth, I'll come lookin' for you. And next time you'll be in a lot worse shape when I'm through"

Charlie stood and turned toward the house, intent on collecting Angelina and getting off Alvarez property.

"Charlie, behind you!"

Angelina's shriek from the bedroom window made him dive for the dirt. The report of a gun echoed, and a bullet whizzed past his cheek, close enough to sting. He rolled toward Alvarez and snatched the derringer from the man's fingers. Then he hauled back his fist and punched Juan Alvarez directly on his aristocratic jaw. The man lapsed into unconsciousness just as Angelina ran out of the house and threw herself into Charlie's arms.

Chapter Eleven.