Lone Star Bride

“Get over here!” Jackson scolded his horse.

A lit kerosene lamp came from the house, swinging as the carrier came closer to the barn. Jackson recognized Rafael De Zavala, the ranch owner.

“What is all the noise about? Is everything all right?” His smooth Spanish accent enriched his crisp English.

“There seems to be a little thief running wild.”

“Híjole, more gangs have moved into the area. Is everyone safe? Did they take anything of value?”

“Tried to run off with Dughall.” The horse stood next to him now and nudged him with his soft muzzle. Jackson wasn’t sure if he was apologizing or asking to leave with the boy.

From the other side of the barn, a few of the ranch hands joined them, guns drawn.

“I’ll send for the sheriff.” De Zavala turned.

“No, don’t worry about it. The kid was beat up and half starved. He didn’t get away with anything. Everyone should go back to bed.”

“Diego.” De Zavala called out. “Stay in the barn and stand guard. Estevan, make sure we have someone every night to watch the horses.”

The men left. Jackson turned to De Zavala and held his hand to midchest. “He was about this tall. His name was Santiago. Do you know him?”

The older man’s mouth fell open, then he shook his head. “No, it couldn’t be. Are you sure? My son, who drowned during a storm, is Santiago.” De Zavala gave him a tight smile and shook his head. “I’m being foolish. My son is gone, and he would be taller. He was a man, not a boy.”

He walked over to Dughall and placed a hand on Jackson’s horse. “You have a very fine stallion. Is it too late in the night to talk business? I’m unable to sleep, and I have an idea to give you.”

That sounded promising. More so than anything else Rafael De Zavala had said since they started corresponding months ago. Jackson nodded.

“Settle your horse then, and come to the back of the house through the kitchen. We will meet in my study. Everyone is asleep, and we can finish our talk of business.”

“I’ll be there.” His plans were falling into place.

“Good. I have given much thought to what you want, and I think you can take care of a problem I have. It will be a good partnership.”

Jackson watched the man make his way back to the big hacienda. Arrogance and shrewdness radiated off him, much like Jackson imagined it did off the conquistadors of old.

Dughall looked with longing in the direction the boy had disappeared. “I know there was something about the kid, but we can’t save them all, old man. Come on, we offered him a job and he ran. I’ll take you out for a run tomorrow.”

Jackson had one goal, and that was to get De Zavala to sell him a few of his broodmares. Their bloodlines were as old as those conquistadors. There was also a perfect property on the edge of town.

He brushed down Dughall and thought of the ranch he wanted to build. He visualized a place much like this one, but smaller. He wouldn’t need such a big house for just him, and he wasn’t going to marry. Not ever again.

He gave one last look out to the trees. Should he try to go after the kid? He had to be hungry. He sighed and threw the brush back in the bucket. Santiago would know the countryside better than he did. In the morning, he’d ask the ranch hands. Someone had to know the kid’s story.

Chapter Two

Sofia leaned against the giant oak. Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her pounding heart. Eyes closed, she forced her lungs to relax.

Despite the horror of being caught, she had experienced pure joy for a moment. The big stallion’s muscles flexing under her, all the raw power ready to be unleashed.

The imprudent man had to call him back. The American cowboy didn’t even have the manners to button and tuck in his shirt.

Growing up on the ranch, she had been around plenty of men, but the man her father was doing business with made her uncomfortable in ways she didn’t understand.

She never realized how sheltered her father had kept her even as she ran free over the ranch, or maybe she’d just been too young to notice the men. But she noticed him, and he was a distraction.

For a bit, she had forgotten she was supposed to be a boy. That would’ve been disastrous.

He had said the horse was his. That didn’t make sense. She thought he was some cowhand delivering a new stallion for her father’s stables. How did a poor cowboy get such a magnificent stallion?

Her breathing slowed to normal as she pushed herself off the rough tree bark. Her hands ran down the bottom of her oversize shirt. The ease of movement in her brother’s old clothes was liberating. The thought of being trapped in a corset and dress again depressed her.

She could have her own clothes fashioned in such a way that gave her freedom of movement. Just because she was a female, her mother had convinced her father she needed to stay in the house, but she was different from her mother.

Sofia closed her eyes and bit hard on her lower lip, clearing her thoughts. The back of her head bumped the trunk. Above her, stars danced through the tree branches, winking at her.

Life was too short to live by someone else’s expectations. She loved the land. Running the ranch with her father was all she wanted. She could be his partner.

He needed her. With her mother and brother gone, it was just the two of them. This was her legacy also.

The light was still coming from inside the barn. First, she needed to convince him to buy that stallion. She would find a way to go for a real ride on the horse the cowboy called Dughall. Maybe the man could stick around, too.

She would love telling him what to do. As his boss, he would have to follow her orders. She touched her arm where he left his handprint. The warmth of his touch lingered.

With slow steps, she moved back toward the hacienda. Inside the courtyard, she eased along the adobe wall. As she got closer to the window that provided her escape earlier, her father’s voice drifted through the air.

She groaned. Getting back into the house would not be as easy as leaving now that he was awake. Sofia flattened against the wall as a light moved across the room.

Trapped.

She crossed her arms and slid down the rough side of her home. Her father’s voice carried through the night. He didn’t usually talk to himself. All the political upheaval had him more stressed than she thought.

“Thank you for taking my offer into consideration, Señor De Zavala.” The rough baritone voice joined her father’s.

Sofia’s hand covered her mouth. The cowboy was having a late-night meeting with her father? Maybe he had seen through her disguise. Her heart jumped in her chest.

Staying low, she peeked over the windowsill and watched as the tall cowboy shook hands with her father.

A dark jacket covered his shoulders now, and leather boots had him standing taller than he was earlier in the barn. Her father was not a small man, but he lost some of his size next to the cowboy.

They turned, moving closer to her. She dropped to the ground, waiting to see if they were coming to the window to call her out. Instead, she heard the chairs at the small table scrape across the wood floor. They settled in and started talking about horses.

The cowboy wanted to buy some of their top broodmares? No way would her father sell his best mares to this man.

“Mr. McCreed, I have a trade in mind that would get us both what we want. With all the uncertainty of Texas winning its independence from Mexico, many of my people have fled back to our homeland.”

A pause followed, as if her father needed to gather his thoughts.

“Texas is my home, and here is where I want to build my legacy. Losing my wife and son leaves me desperate to secure my land, my daughter’s future and the future of her sons, my grandsons. I have a cousin in Galveston, and I need to send her to him in order to set my plans in motion to marry her to a well-connected American.”

Sofia’s stomach twisted. Her father intended to send her away, to marry her off. Not to Mexico this time, but it was just as far. She had hoped he changed his mind, but the only thing that changed was he no longer talked to her about his plans for the future.

“Sir, I completely understand the need to protect one’s family. Especially a daughter, but what does this have to do with our deal?”

Her father gave a deep short laugh. It sounded as if he hit the cowboy on the arm or shoulder. “Forgive me. If you are ever burdened with a daughter, you will understand my worries. I love her, but she needs protection.”

Burden? Slow tears trailed down her cheeks. She heard the familiar tapping her father did when he was thinking. “I have a buyer for cattle in New Orleans. With so many of my families leaving for Mexico, I’m shorthanded. I need a range boss I can trust to get them to that point. You have driven a herd to market, sí?”

There was a pause in the conversation. She tilted her head to see if she could get a visual of them.

Her father continued. “The cash will fund my daughter’s trip to Galveston. I also have a small herd of geldings I’m selling. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can settle her future and the future of the ranch.”

A cold sweat on her skin battled with the burn in the pit of her stomach. She tightened her arms around her middle. Her father wasn’t even considering her request to stay and help him on the ranch. He was in a rush to marry her off. To get rid of his burden.

Pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes, she tried to stop the tears. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. It would just prove her father right. She was not weak.

The stranger’s deep voice carried through the window again. Making sure to be silent, she leaned in to hear more of the conversation.

“We haven’t been acquainted long, Señor De Zavala. I’ve been on a couple of drives, but never as the boss. What makes you think I can be trusted with your cattle, horse and cash?”

“You have more experience driving cattle than anyone else. I like to think I’m a good judge of character, and I know how important a man’s dream can be to motivate him. You have one of the finest stallions I’ve ever seen. He will be well taken care of in my stables while you drive my herd to New Orleans.”

Sofia heard the scraping of the chair. Her father was moving to his desk from the sound of it.

“Mr. McCreed, I have written out what I need in order for a trade to happen between us. As you can see, I’m being very generous. I have included five mares if you allow me two guaranteed breedings.”

The men moved away from the window, so she couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation.

Her stomach twisted. She had always thought of them as her horses, as well. How was she going to stop this?

* * *

Walking through the kitchen, Jackson picked up an apple from a wire basket. At the back door, he made a sharp turn to the left. The kid had been spying on them. Had he planned to steal something else, or was he sleeping in the courtyard at night?

Pausing at the edge of the rock fence, Jackson waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

He spoke out in Spanish. “Santiago, I saw you at the window. I know you’re here. Come out.” He allowed silence to hang in the space between them. “I’m not leaving until I talk to you.”

He leaned against the stone wall that enclosed the little bit of Spanish garden. The bright moon highlighted a fountain in the center, surrounded by exotic flowers and three giant oaks to sit under. It was a good place to hide. He tossed the apple up and caught it. Waiting.

Using his grandmother’s language, he spoke loud enough for the boy to hear, but soft enough to not alert anyone in the household. “Does Señor De Zavala know you are sulking in his courtyard? Maybe I should go get him.”

A few more minutes of silence, and the boy left his hiding place. Head down, he made his way to Jackson.

“What were you doing sneaking around the house so late at night? The last I saw of you, was you running to the trees.”

“Pardon my bad manners, señor. I panicked. Your horse wanted to run.”

“So it was Dughall’s fault?”

The boy sighed and, after a heartbeat of silence, looked at the gate. “No, señor. I made a mistake, one I will not make again. He just wanted to go for a run. In the morning, he would have been in his stall. I’m a hard worker, not a thief. I heard you will be driving a herd to New Orleans. You won’t find anyone better with a lasso.”

Jackson had to smile at the kid. “You mean you overheard.”

The kid’s body went rigid. From under the wide-brimmed hat, he looked Jackson in the eye. The big eyes looked too delicate to survive in this rough world.

“You know I’m good with horses.”

“Here.” Tossing the apple to Santiago, Jackson watched as the soft hands caught it effortlessly. “If you’re going to do a man’s job, you need to add some muscles. And no stealing or sneaking around.” Jackson turned to make his way back to the barn.

The kid ran after him. “I don’t steal.”

“You want me to trust you? To give you a job? Why should I?” The boy kept his head down, but his spine remained stiff, and Jackson could hear the sharp hard breaths coming from the kid’s nose. He got the impression little Santiago was angry. It reminded him of barn kittens whenever they hissed at him.

“The horse wanted to run. You keep such a fine animal in a small place. Maybe you don’t deserve him.”

Jackson suppressed a laugh. Despite his small size, the little guy had plenty of gumption. “So you were saving my horse. And I should thank you by giving you a job?”

Santiago followed him to the barn and through the doors.

“I’m sorry, señor. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my good manners. Hire me. You’ll not regret it. I promise.”

Walking into the dark barn, Jackson paused at Dughall’s stall. “So you think you can handle a job on the trail?”

The kid didn’t even look at him, but made a beeline to the gray mare a few doors down. One of the mares Jackson had wanted, but De Zavala had not included in the deal.

He leaned against the wall and studied the kid. Something was not right, but he couldn’t identify the problem. The boy moved like he owned the place, and he sounded educated. He knew horses, how to handle them, how to ride. Not your typical lost orphan.

“Do you have a place to sleep, or were you sleeping in the courtyard?”

With a soft whistle, the kid moved to the next horse. They acted as if they knew him. Necks arched over the doors, trying to get the kid’s attention. The boy laughed as he shared the apple with one of the mares. The small shoulders shrugged. “I like the quiet of the moon and horses.”

Jackson understood the need to be alone. Dughall made a rumbling noise in his throat. He seemed to want the boy’s attention also.

With a sigh, Jackson headed to his own small room. Maybe this time he could actually sleep. As he walked down the corridor, he yelled back to the kid. “I’m driving a herd east. I could use a helper for the cook.”

That got the kid’s attention. His head shot up. “Why can’t I work with the horses and cattle? I don’t want to cook.” He ran a dirty sleeve across his nose and ran to catch up to Jackson’s longer strides.

“You’re too small.” Jackson hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. He avoided entanglements with people, but this kid pulled on all his protective strings. The kid was too small to handle the dangers of a cattle drive. He shouldn’t have said anything.

In his room, he poured the fresh water into a bowl and removed his jacket.

“I know I’m going to regret this,” he mumbled in English.

“No, señor, I’ll be a great help for the cook. Please, I just want to go on the drive.”

One of his eyebrows shot up as he gave the boy a pointed stare. The kid gasped and covered his mouth. He must have realized his mistake. “So you do speak English? Any other lies I need to know?”

“Oh, no, no. I understand little. I will...try to speak good.”

He narrowed his eyes at the kid.

Santiago lowered his head. “I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you need.”

“You sure find yourself apologizing a lot.” He ran his hands over the stubble on his chin. “Be at the north bunkhouse Thursday morning. Can you do that?” Jackson untucked his shirt.

“Yes, yes. Thank you.” Santiago’s face turned red as he nodded. With a quick turn to leave, he ran hard into the wall next to the door. A loud yelp followed.

“Are you all right?” The kid didn’t answer. Jackson reached for him, but Santiago bolted.

Jackson watched him run past the horses as if a bear chased him. That boy confused him. One minute he acted like the son of privilege, the next a scared gutter rat. And little Santiago knew English.

Normally, he had no tolerance for liars, but when someone was alone and fighting to survive, he could not really hold it against them. He turned and put as much mental distance as he could between himself and the kid. Once on the trail, he would be the cook’s problem.

* * *

Sophia ran all the way back to the courtyard. Excitement roared through her body like the flooded Guadalupe River. She was going on a real cattle drive, and when she got back, her father would have to acknowledge her skills.

Nothing but riding all day, seeing the country and traveling to new places. Arms wide, she twirled under the full moon, laughing at the stars. She spent hours dreaming about this life, but never really thought she’d have the opportunity.

How would she leave without her father worrying about her or searching for her? Maybe she could trust him one more time. She could tell him, despite all his plans and his talk of burdens. Then, at least, she would not have to mask her true identity from the crew.

If she had to stay in disguise, she wouldn’t be able to take one of her own horses. Mr. McCreed would think she stole it. It would be easier if her father allowed her to join the cattle drive as a De Zavala.

The wind caught her brother’s hat, knocking it off. Her hair tumbled down. The long thick waves were hard to control on a good day. With a heavy sigh, she knew if her father was not open to her new goal, it would have to be cut.

She picked up the hat and put it back on. In the morning, she would talk to him. They were the only De Zavalas left.

Chapter Three

Sofia sat the plate of sweet breads on the edge of her father’s desk. Next to the vase of roses and starburst she had cut from her mother’s garden this morning.

“Father, it’s nothing. I fell while cutting the fresh flowers for your study.” She sat in the chair Jackson McCreed had occupied last night. “The bricks were wet from the morning shower. Distracted, thinking about ways to help on the ranch, I slipped.”

Taking one of the large rolls with sugar and icing, her father shook his head. “You should not be concerned with matters of the ranch. You are twenty-two years old. Way past the time to be married and giving me grandsons.”

“I can help you here on the ranch. I used to—”

“There are many things you used to do that are inappropriate for a young lady of good breeding. We have enough cattle gathered to drive to New Orleans.”

He looked through some papers on his desk. “We will use the money to send you to Galveston. There, my cousin Perez has connections with good American families.” He picked up a letter and handed it to her. “We’re making arrangements now. You, marrying into one of these families, will do more to secure our legacy here in Texas than working on the ranch. It will give us solid ground to stand on, no matter the vote from the new congress. I will allow you to marry the one of your choosing.”

“That’s very generous of you, Papi.” He didn’t seem to pick up on her sarcastic tone. Or ignored it. That had been his style since the flood that took her mother and brother—avoid any emotion. He expected the same from her.

He put the document down and sighed. “I don’t want to lose the ranch. If congress votes not to honor our land grants, I want to have a plan to ensure we keep it in our family, for my grandchildren.”

Reaching for his hand, she wanted him to understand she could ease some of his stress by staying. “Papi, you supported the new Texas, they will support you now. You know I can ride and rope better than some of the men out there. I don’t want to leave to find a husband, a man who will be a stranger.”

Desperation gripped her as she thought of ways for him to see her as a partner and not a burden.

“Your mother raised you to take your place in polite society and run a well-managed home. With the changes here in Texas, I’m not sure what our future holds. I want you protected and safe. This is what your mother wanted.”

“My mother wanted me to marry a good family in Mexico. Now you want me to marry a good American.” She stood. Taking a deep breath, she tried to remain calm. “I don’t want either, Papi. I want to stay with you on our land. This is where I belong.”

“No, it’s too dangerous, and who would you marry? There are no proper suitors for you here.” He looked at the family portrait that hung over the fireplace. “Politics have changed the country of origin, but not the intent. You will go to Galveston and find a proper husband.”

“This canyon that holds our ranch is where I belong. This is the life I want, not city streets and walls. Papi, how can you send me away?” Tears threatened to fall. She couldn’t believe he was doing this. She moved around his massive dark oak desk, which anchored the room. “Please, I’m all you have left. You’re all I have left. I can help at the cattle station.”

He looked at her. In the depths of his eyes, she still saw the clouds of sadness that formed the moment they found her mother’s body in the swollen river.

“Mija, you are my future. My life. If something happens to me, you would be all alone with no protection. If anything happened to you? I would have no reason to live.”

“We can’t live in fear. In Galveston, I’ll be alone. Please, Papi.” She moved closer to him, reaching out to touch his hand.

His body went rigid. “You can help by doing what your mother wanted. You, to have your own beautiful home, a family, children and a proper place in society. I would be pleased with grandsons to carry on our family legacy, and little granddaughters as beautiful as their mother.” His hand came up and cupped her face. “Your tears will not change my mind. When you hold your firstborn in your arms, you will thank me.”

Sofia stepped back, away from his touch. She knew without a doubt his mind was set. Unless she did something drastic, she would be sent to Galveston to marry.

She looked at the shelves with its books all in neat and tidy rows, all in their place. She did not want to be put in place. She made a decision.

Jackson McCreed was taking their cattle to market, and he had offered her a job. Her father might be stubborn, but she could match him. She would show him she brought more to the ranch than just social graces and babies. By the time she returned home, he would welcome her by his side.

“Papi, the Schmitts have invited me to go to Galveston with them for some spring shopping. I had told them no, thinking you needed me here, but maybe I should go. I could meet my cousins and look at the list of potential husbands.”

She touched the soft petal of a yellow rose. “They plan to be gone for a few weeks. If I’m going into Galveston society, I could use new gowns.”

With a few steps, he was next to her. He kissed her on the forehead as if she were still a little girl. “That’s a fine idea. You can become familiar with the city before we start going to socials. When are they leaving?”

“At the end of this week. I can go into town with Juanita.” And by the end of next month, her reputation might be ruined, but she didn’t enjoy town anyway. Here on the ranch, it wouldn’t matter.

She didn’t need or want a husband who cared more about social graces than daily life on the ranch. An image of the tall cowboy rubbing the jaw of his stallion popped into her mind, but she shook her head. She would not allow the cowboy to distract her, either.