Mexican Fire by Martha Hix

uttered a “my goodness,” then smiled blandly. “Tell me, General, have you settled your differences with President Bustamante? Has he restored your rank?”
    â€œNot yet, Doña Alejandra. But it is only a matter of time before the French make a move against us. Has our good friend”—he motioned at Reece—“told you I’ve offered my services to Commandante Rincón at the fortress?”
    This line of conversation had Reece uneasy. It would contradict the Mexico City lie—if Antonio intended to tell more of his plans.
    â€œYour offer to defend San Juan de Ulúa was brought to my attention,” Alejandra replied. “At the same time I was told you are gathering an army. I was . . .” She brought steepled fingers to her lips. “I was given to understand you’re more interested in challenging Anastacio Bustamante’s government than in defending our shores.”
    Reece had never said anything of the kind. What was she up to? Before he could question her remarks, Antonio shook his head and waved a finger.
    â€œDoña Alejandra, you are out of sorts tonight, and it’s quite unbecoming,” he scolded, using the same tone he employed with his daughters. “You must be careful of the tales you carry. A misinterpreted word or two—to a less prudent person than I, of course-could cause problems for me.”
    â€œI assure you, General Santa Anna, there is nothing wrong with my powers of observation.” Her eyes settled on Reece’s, yet her words were addressed to the other man. “I was also told your ambitions know no limits, that you yearn to redeem yourself after losing Tejas.”
    â€œRedeem myself?” Antonio croaked.
    Reece leaned toward her. Where the hell had she gotten these preposterous yarns? They were pap. Maybe not pap , but . . . He realized she wanted to extract payment for his transgression of bringing Antonio to Campos de Palmas, but all this pepper up her nose couldn’t come from a minor infraction of gallantry and good manners.
    Could it? Of course it could, he decided. He had been a boor to bring Antonio here. Reece felt rotten. Her reactions were much too strong for a woman caught in a little lie. She wouldn’t be this irritated. And he got the sinking suspicion that he had been wrong about Alejandra.
    â€œRedeem myself?” Antonio repeated, full of gall and wormwood. “With the fires of patriotism and noble ambition in my heart, I led a valiant campaign to maintain the territorial integrity of Mexico. Yet I should redeem myself? Who filled your head with such blasphemy?”
    Alejandra’s eyes focused to her right, grazing the tabletop and glancing off silverware before climbing up to Reece’s frowning face. Then, quickly, she settled her gaze on her countryman. “Oh, my, surely you wouldn’t wish me to name a name, Your Excellency,” she replied in a coo, using the term of respect for a first time. “It should be more than obvious.”
    Suddenly her lashing out was all too clear.
    Reece sat in stunned silence.
    Alejandra was a cornered, wounded animal. For days Reece had been adamant in his conclusions that Antonio had used her to test his loyalty. He had been wrong. Dead wrong. He was exposing Alejandra, the Federalist, to her enemy.
    With an invisible knife twisting in his gut, Reece couldn’t breathe.
    How could he rectify his wrongs? What could he do to gloss all this over? If he couldn’t think of something, and quick-like, no telling what would happen. To either one of them.
    Into the heavy silence, Antonio said, “My man Montgomery would never do me false.”
    Saved. He was saved. But was she? Maybe. It was then that a plan formed in Reece’s mind. “Alejandra, querida, be careful of what you say, as Antonio cautioned.” His mouth eased into a forced smile as he scanned her flushed and furious features. Reaching to take the hand she