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Chapters (73)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Epigraph
  4. Prologue
  5. Part One
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Part Two
  20. Fourteen
  21. Fifteen
  22. Sixteen
  23. Seventeen
  24. Eighteen
  25. Nineteen
  26. Twenty
  27. Twenty-One
  28. Twenty-Two
  29. Twenty-Three
  30. Twenty-Four
  31. Twenty-Five
  32. Part Three
  33. Twenty-Six
  34. Twenty-Seven
  35. Twenty-Eight
  36. Twenty-Nine
  37. Thirty
  38. Thirty-One
  39. Thirty-Two
  40. Thirty-Three
  41. Thirty-Four
  42. Thirty-Five
  43. Thirty-Six
  44. Thirty-Seven
  45. Thirty-Eight
  46. Thirty-Nine
  47. Forty
  48. Forty-One
  49. Forty-Two
  50. Part Four
  51. Forty-Three
  52. Forty-Four
  53. Forty-Five
  54. Forty-Six
  55. Forty-Seven
  56. Forty-Eight
  57. Forty-Nine
  58. Fifty
  59. Fifty-One
  60. Fifty-Two
  61. Fifty-Three
  62. Epilogue
  63. Author’s Note
  64. Acknowledgments
  65. Discover More
  66. Reading Group Guide
  67. Discussion Questions
  68. ESSAY FROMDIANA GIOVINAZZO
  69. Antoinette’s Sister
  70. Chapter One
  71. Chapter Two
  72. About the Author
  73. Praise forThe Woman in Red

I kept my horse positioned in the spot while she stomped her legs up and down, marching in place like the four-legged soldier she was. She preened with pompousness. Smiling slightly I handed back José’s hat.

Rossetti looked like he had a lime in his mouth, while José beamed with pride. “Also, Senhor Rossetti, we do not travel at a faster pace because we need to conserve the horse’s energy. A strong horse will get us much farther than a tired one. Likewise, these beasts, as you call them, are quite sensitive. If we ride them to the point of exhaustion, they will die.”

“Oh, well of course.” Rossetti sputtered. “I was just expressing my frustration.” He turned his horse away from me, this time with a gentler touch.

Our band of survivors consisted of about two hundred and forty, a third of what we’d had in Laguna. In addition to our fatalities, a large number of the soldiers who had once been our comrades had deserted us.

The terrible secret that the new Rio Grande Republic was keeping had escaped: It was poor. So poor that it could not fulfill its promises to pay the wages of its soldiers. The Republicans had been counting on a quick and profitable victory, making oaths they weren’t able to keep. Once people learned the truth, they left. Those of us who stayed were truly ragamuffins.

We moved along in silence, feeling the weight of our collective losses. We stopped to rest the horses and our tired, aching bones. The scouts that José had ordered to stay in Laguna caught up to our camp, letting us know we were not being followed, the Imperialists choosing to fortify their new stronghold. We were safe for now.

It was a warm afternoon in late January when our troop stopped to make camp. The wind swiftly blew, caressing the hillside as it moved through the open land. I sat in the shade of a tree as I watched the men skirmish with each other while they taught José their style of fighting. “Why don’t you come here and learn to fight with us?” José called over to me.

The other men’s eyes grew wide as they looked from him to me. “Teach me to fight like a gaucho?” I asked, getting up and bringing my poncho with me. I picked up a nearby facón, testing its weight in my hands. “The thing you need to understand is that this is the only way a gaucho resolves a fight.”