The spicy scent of chili burned the air, and tortillas sizzled on plates filled with beef, chicken and beans. A fire glowed at one end of the bricked courtyard, more for the patrons than the cantina’s use, and delicious smells emanated from just beyond in the kitchens built at the end of the L-shaped building. A profusion of flowering plants swarmed over low walls, and a huge oak spread ancient branches over the patio, dripping lanterns that bobbed erratic light over dancers and tables.

Ginny navigated the two shallow steps down into the courtyard, her skirts lifted in one hand as she swept the area with a glance. She recognized no one, but hadn’t really expected to, after all.

“Señora Alvarado,” a voice behind her said, and she turned in surprise to see the round-faced, smiling man she’d discussed earlier with Paco. “It is very pleasant to see you again, though I had not expected to see you so soon.”

“Nor I you, Señor Valdez.”

“Ah, it is an unexpected pleasure to find you here on such a lovely night. The rain has stopped at last, and it is time to celebrate. Tell me, señora, where is your escort? I had thought to see him here with you. Such a beautiful lady should not wander about alone in a strange town, heh?”

Her brow lifted in a gesture of haughty reproof that he would be so forward. “He is to meet me here later. I thought perhaps he had already arrived. Now if you will excuse me—?”

It sufficed to keep him at arm’s length, a small lie that she didn’t regret in the least, and Ginny was relieved when Valdez murmured his regrets after escorting her to a table in the corner of the courtyard. From this vantage point, she could see the entire cantina, including the gate.

She could also see Señor Valdez, across from her at a table with two other men, their glances in her direction a constant irritation. One of the men, tall and swarthy, with a penetrating gaze, never took his eyes from her. Pah! Let them stare and wonder. She did not care what they thought.

Besides, Señor Valdez was involved in the business with Paco and Steve somehow, and she suspected it had something to do with the mysterious shipment of cargo that had been unloaded when they disembarked at Point Isabel. She had not seen the long wooden boxes again. A lingering suspicion that perhaps Steve was bringing in guns and ammunition to fuel the rebellion was a niggling worry.

Despite several discussions on the topic, she had no idea if he favored Lerdo or Díaz as Mexico’s next leader. But when had her opinion ever mattered? Not often. Not when it came to war or political intrigue, both of which she detested as much as Steve seemed to enjoy them.