Lorenzo's Revolutionary Quest Read Free Page A

arrive.”
    â€œFatten up on what?”
    He shrugged. “On whatever they find growing wild.”
    She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. “Have you thought all this through carefully?”
    Lorenzo laughed. “Colonel De Gálvez and I have burned barrels of lamp oil staying up late. We’ve planned this down to a gnat’s eyebrow.”
    Eugenie burst out laughing. “A gnat’s eyebrow. Where do you come up with these things?”
    â€œI learn them from my soldiers.” Lorenzo wrapped a tress of her hair around his index finger. “They say things that would curl your hair.” He slipped his other arm around her back and gently pulled her to him. He kissed her softly and she kissed him back.
    â€œUnhand that girl, you scoundrel!” Colonel de Gálvez stood in the doorway, arms crossed, scowling.
    Eugenie stepped away.
    Lorenzo tried not to smile. Most people would be terrified of the governor of Louisiana and the power he wielded, but the colonel was like his adopted father. He had plucked Eugenie off the streets when she was orphaned and found her a place to live. He had done the same thing for Lorenzo. They were both indebted to him.
    Lorenzo held his hands up in mock surrender and backed away. “I was . . . uh . . . showing her the route the cattle drive will take.”
    The colonel raised an eyebrow questioningly. “That’s an odd way to go about it. Personally, I’d use a map.”
    Blushing deeply, Eugenie rushed toward the door.
    â€œHey!” Lorenzo called after her. “Where do you think you’re going?”
    â€œHome.” She turned and blew him a kiss.
    A hot wind hit Lorenzo in the face and drew him back to the present.
    Hoofbeats sounded over the plain.
    Lorenzo trained his telescope on a squad of Spanish soldiers loping toward them with a lieutenant in the lead.
    They carried bull-hide shields and lances. Swords hung by their sides. They wore long-sleeved white shirts, tight blue knee breeches, boots covered by buckskin leggings, and leather jackets called
cueras
padded with quilted cotton to keep arrows out of their backs and chests.
    They slowed to a walk, apparently not wishing to spook the cattle and send them into a stampede.
    Lorenzo was glad to see the soldiers. No doubt they would take the cattle off his hands.
    The lieutenant was several inches shorter than Lorenzo, five-foot-six at the most, and slightly built. He barked an order.
    Soldiers fanned out, each pulling alongside a different one of Lorenzo’s men, and leveling pistols.

Chapter Five
    â€œWhat is the meaning of this?” Lorenzo yelled to be heard over the cattle’s lowing. Being a captain, Lorenzo outranked this lieutenant, but that did little good with pistols trained on him and his men.
    The lieutenant answered a question with a question. “Are you in charge here?”
    â€œYes!”
    â€œWhat is your name?”
    â€œLorenzo Bannister.” Given the nature of their secret mission, he thought it best to give only the barest of details.
    â€œI certainly hope you can give me a good explanation for having mission cattle in your possession.”
    Lorenzo could not see the face under the wide-brimmed hat, but the lieutenant sounded like a boy whose voice had not yet broken. “I do, Lieutenant. We ran into rustlers and took the cattle away from them.”
    â€œIs that so?” The lieutenant thumbed back his hat, revealing a boyish face to match the voice. His thick, blue-black hair was as long as Lorenzo’s and tied at the neck with a rawhide strip. The lieutenant had a look in his eye that warned not to take liberties.
    He looked familiar, but Lorenzo couldn’t place him. “You’ve no doubt noticed we’re driving the cattle
west
,” Lorenzo pointed out. “Would rustlers drive them back to San Antonio?”
    â€œThey might if they were lost . . .” The lieutenant’scurled into an