Читать книгу Lone Star Bride - Jolene Navarro - Страница 11

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.