Sonoma Rose: An Elm Creek Quilts Novel by Jannifer Chiaverini

foot of the trail leading up the canyon wall to the mesa. The climb was more slippery and treacherous than the descent had been, and to Rosa it seemed that hours passed before they reached the top, but at last they did, and the clamor of the falls and the swollen, rushing creek faded to a low murmur behind them. The horses whinnied in recognition as they approached, but Lars led their small party to his car parked just beyond the wagon. As Rosa loaded the children and their belongings inside, Lars strode off to check on the horses. He soon returned and assured the children that the horses were fine and that a little more rain wouldn’t hurt them, since they were on high, level ground and there hadn’t been a single rumble of thunder in the dark skies since the storm began. Ana and Marta seemed to take heart, but Lupita, sitting between them in the back, hugging her knees to her chest and sniffling, was inconsolable without her doll.
    Lars took the wheel, and soon they were bouncing and jolting across the mesa. When they reached the road, Lars turned east, away from the Barclay farm. “I thought we’d take the Old Butterfield Road into Camarillo,” he said.
    “In this weather? At night?”
    Lars shrugged. He knew the dangers, but it couldn’t be helped. “We’re less likely to run into anyone we know.”
    “If John’s been arrested, why do we need to hide?”
    “We don’t know when he’ll be released.” Lars kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead, barely visible a mere two feet beyond the headlamps. “It’d be best if there’s no one to tell him which direction they saw us go.”
    Rosa knew he was right, so she sank back into her seat, cradling Miguel and stroking his head until he drifted off to sleep. Before long, silence from the backseat told her that her exhausted daughters had fallen asleep too, but she was too nervous to speak while the car creaked up the narrow, winding road to the summit. Once they cleared the pass, she breathed a sigh of relief as the car rumbled down the road into the Camarillo Valley. As long as the brakes held, they were sure to make it the rest of the way to Oxnard safely.
    She glanced over her shoulder to be sure the girls were still asleep, and then she turned to Lars. “Tell me what happened.”
    Lars hesitated, rubbing the stubble of golden beard on his chin. “Like I said, I was hauling a load of apricots to the packinghouse in Camarillo when John came after me. I didn’t get home until hours after it was all over.”
    “After what was all over?”
    His reluctance to tell her was evident in his pauses, and in the glance he gave her as they descended into the foothills. “My brother told me John showed up at the house, waving a pistol and demanding that they send me out.”
    “Didn’t they explain that you weren’t there?”
    “I don’t figure John was much up for a rational discussion of the facts, but Oscar shouted that I wasn’t there and that he’d better shove off because Mother had called the police. EvidentlyJohn didn’t believe him, because he shot out the window Oscar had been standing at only seconds before.”
    Rosa gasped. “Was he hurt?”
    “No, he’s fine. On account of the rain, everyone was inside—the family, the hired hands—so they decided to wait it out until the police arrived. Then what do they see but Elizabeth driving up to the house in my car.”
    “Oh, no.”
    “She’s okay too,” Lars quickly went on. “John fired at her, but she threw the car into reverse and sped off back the way she came until she was out of range. Then she turned the car to block the road, to cut off his escape.”
    “Did John go after her?”
    “No, but he threatened to. For a while he paced in front of the house in the rain, shouting that they needed to send me out or he’d go after Elizabeth. As you can imagine, Henry wasn’t about to let anyone harm his wife—” His voice broke off and he shot Rosa a quick, sidelong look, and Rosa felt herself