Free Until the Day Breaks (California Rising Book 1) by Paula Scott

down the hall. “Maria calls me little goat . Do you think I have goat ears?”
    Isabella cocked her head, using her free hand to push the long black hair away from a little ear for inspection.
    “I think you have lovely ears.” The child had perfect ears. Like little seashells.
    “I think my ears are nice too.” Isabella giggled happily. “Maria will end up eating with pigs. I know she will.”
    “Why do you say such a thing about your sister?”
    “Because people reap what they sow. Maria is always sowing slop, so she will reap slop one day.”
    “That expression is from the Bible. Do you read the Bible?”
    “The padres read the Bible during Mass. I don’t like going to Mass.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because Señora Poppycock is not welcome at Mass.”
    “Who is Señora Poppycock?”
    “My chicken.”
    “You have a chicken?”
    “Oh yes, and she is beautiful and smart and eats flies off the wall. When you come to live with us, I will bring her to your room so she can eat up all the flies, and then they won’t bother you.”
    “That will be wonderful.” Despite her anxiety over her betrothal, Rachel couldn’t help but smile, enjoying Isabella’s company very much.

CHAPTER NINE
    Rosa massaged the herbs and oil into Roman’s lacerated back. He didn’t talk or make any sound as she dressed his wounds, but he drank all the patrón’s whiskey she’d brought along to take the edge off his pain. Never had Rosa seen such a magnificent man, nor one so harshly flogged. He thanked her with a grateful smile, flashing perfect white teeth when she finished attending him, then he rose from the wooden chair he’d straddled while she ministered to his wounds and lay down on the bed with only his pants on. He appeared to already be asleep when she departed. After quietly closing his door, Rosa nearly screamed out loud, coming face-to-face with Sarita.
    “ Silencio, ” Sarita hissed, calling Rosa a terrible name as well.
    Rosa crossed herself, backing away from the woman. “You must give me Señorita Tyler’s hair,” Rosa demanded in a trembling voice.
    Sarita laughed, making a growling sound that unnerved Rosa. “I will use the Yanquia’s hair to worship Tohic when the new moon rises.”
    Rosa made the sign of the cross again. “I will tell the patrón,” she threatened.
    “Tell him.” Sarita smiled, eyes black and hard as onyx. “I will steal his hair and yours too and offer it all to Tohic if you don’t stay out of my way, you stupid fool.”
    “Why did you come here?” Rosa kept her voice low so as not to disturb her patient on the other side of the door. Rachel’s betrothed had been placed in the mayordomo’s quarters behind the sprawling redwood stables outside the hacienda’s walls until he sobered up.
    “I have come to attend his wounds.” Sarita held up a deerskin pouch that was bloodstained. Rosa shuttered at the thought of what might be in that bag.
    “I have already attended Señorita Rachel’s betrothed.” Rosa mustered all her courage. “He does not need your help.”
    The señora’s eyes grew even blacker, if that were possible, narrowing in fury. “Roman Vasquez belongs to me. He has always been mine. He will always be mine.” Glaring a warning at the servant, Sarita pushed past her, cracking open the mayordomo’s door. “If you tell anyone I was here, I will have you killed.” Slipping into the room, the señora shut the door in Rosa’s face.
    Rosa made the sign of the cross again as she hurried back to the hacienda. Poor Señorita Rachel, an innocent angel tangled in that witch’s web. Knowing the señora probably would not return to the hacienda for some time, Rosa hurried to Sarita’s room and frantically searched for Rachel’s hair. She found charms and woodpecker feathers and numerous herbs, sinister little carvings of animal figures and evil faces, and tiny woven medicine baskets made by Indian women, but not a lock of blond hair.
    Distraught and discouraged, she