Jolene Navarro - Lone Star Bride

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.