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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

He got up and walked toward the door. “You drive a hard bargain, senhora.” The door closed with a snap. My knees gave out as I sank to the floor, clutching José’s poncho. My breath came in fast, short bursts as I held the tattered rag to my chest. The baby inside me kicked wildly as I wiped the tears from my face.

Eighteen

Eighteen

If José was alive, I would find him at the base camp the rebels had set up. He wouldn’t leave without me. He would keep the army nearby long enough to regroup and attack. While it was there, the Imperial forces outnumbered the Farrapos, but this wouldn’t matter to José. I knew he would sacrifice the whole world to get me back, and I couldn’t let that happen.

Running my hand over the frayed material, another thought came to me. A thought that initially scared me much more than José being dead. The soldiers knew who I was.

My reputation preceded me. Usually it was only José that they all talked about; he was the rebel hero. At least, until now. They called me the Atiola. I started to entertain thoughts of living on my own. I could become a notorious renegade, even more notorious than my husband.

I could run off into the woods. They would never find me. I could still seek out the Farrapos. A widow who lost her husband tragically, I could fight for José’s causes in his place. People would fawn over me much like they did for my deceased husband. Maybe even more. My heart fluttered at the thought.

This must have been what Eve felt like just before she took the apple. For the first time in my life I had the opportunity to be my own person, and the temptation to take it was great.

A young soldier in a baggy uniform stepped into the room. “Senhora Garibaldi, come with us.”

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, still clutching José’s poncho. He ignored me as he led me to a wagon, gently pulling me along by the elbow. Another soldier sat on the driver’s bench, and two others sat in the back with me. They said nothing as we took off. It was late in the day and I could feel the cold weather setting in. I slipped on José’s poncho. The faint smell of the man I loved was bittersweet.

The wagon came to an abrupt halt on the edge of the battlefield. “What are we doing here?” I asked.

The driver turned around to face me. “You wanted to find your husband?” He motioned toward the field. “Go find him.”