Lone Star Bride

“Maybe you could rub dirt on your face. That might help.”

She already had an inch layer of dirt, and they weren’t even two full days out yet. “I don’t see how that will help.”

“Stay away from Will. Of all the men, he’s the one I trust the least. I’m taking you back to Cook, and you need to stay there.”

“He said I—”

“You don’t have to ride in the wagon, but I want you right next to it. No wandering off. It’s not just the longhorns that are dangerous. There are all sorts of hostiles that roam the area, two legged and four legged. With the herd, we’ll probably draw their attention. I don’t want you caught alone.”

Her hands fisted around the reins. Arguing with him would make her look childish, so she locked her jaw and studied the countryside opposite him.

As they rode in silence for a bit, a wooden cross appeared on the top of the hill they were climbing. As they got closer, she saw a pair of worn boots that looked out of place sitting next to the cross.

Without thought, she stopped her horse. The name Hank Winfield was crudely carved into the wood. Grass and weeds had started growing over the mound of dirt. Jackson took off his hat and lowered his head. She followed suit and took the time to pray. To remember. To listen to God.

After a moment of silence, Jackson raised his head and turned his horse back to their path.

“Why do you think they left his boots there by the cross?” Whispering seemed appropriate, even though there was no one else around.

“Don’t know. I’ve never seen the like before. It meant something to the men who rode with him and buried him.”

“Jackson, I know the dangers. I have lived in this country all my life. I thought I had gained your respect enough for you to trust me.”

“This has nothing to do with respect. I’ve also told the men not to wander off alone, but you’re the only one I fear will actually ignore that order. I don’t want to leave any of you in this ground.”

There wasn’t a thing she could say to that. “I’ll go straight to Cook. You go on and check on Will. I promise I won’t wander off.”

He sighed. “We already have a small team, so don’t do anything to make us smaller.”

She smiled at him. He was a good leader, the kind who cared about all his people. She needed to stop thinking it was all about her.

“Sí, jefe.” She laughed at the expression on his face. He didn’t seem to like the title “boss.”

With a kick to her horse, she galloped away from him. For all her bravery, she knew she needed to be careful. She was all her father had left, and if something happened to her, he might not survive.

If she was a good daughter, she probably wouldn’t be here. But on the other hand, when she returned from a successful cattle drive, he would know he had more than just a daughter to marry off. Not a burden to be dealt with, but a partner who could help run the ranch.

Maybe then they could think about a future where they both could have what they wanted.

She wanted to be part of the ranch. Did that mean she’d never have a family? New people were moving in all the time. Maybe there would be a way to get both.

For the first time, she had hope that her dream and her father’s could be one and the same.

Chapter Seven (#u7854eef5-f5fb-52de-90da-fc69d83141bb)

They had been on the trail for a week, and she found herself always looking for ways to spend time with Jackson. His mission seemed to be avoiding her.

He was so different from any man she met before. Sofia pulled up on the reins and straightened her legs. It wasn’t midday yet and stiffness held every muscle hostage.

Her thought about Jackson confused her. For this trip, she needed to remember to be a boy, but it was hard around him.

The urge to giggle irritated her. Settling back into the saddle, she patted the withers of the mare she was riding today. “Life was a lot easier when all I cared about was horses.” Her mount tossed her head and Sofia snorted. “So is there a male horse that is giving you serious self-doubt?”

With a sigh, she realized she missed the company of other women. That was a surprise. If she had been asked over a week ago, she’d claim boredom with the endless gossip and talk of fashion.

Right now, she’d love to talk about silly things. Well, she wanted to talk about Jackson, but he was the only one she could talk to, so that was not possible.

The mare nickered. Sofia looked around. To the right, there was a water hole, more like a mud puddle, but she gave the mare her head and let her go to the muddy edge.

Dropping her head, the horse pawed, splashing the shallow water over both of them. Sofia laughed. Now mud joined all the dust layering her skin.

“Come on, girl. Jackson wants us with the wagon.” The horse leaped to the other side of the small drop-off. “I think we can cut across here to meet Cook up ahead.”

The mare stopped and lowered her head. Her ears pointed forward. She took a step back. Sofia kicked her. “Let’s go!” The horse refused to move.

Raising her head high, ears pointed forward, the mare snorted. Three horses with half-dressed warriors approached from the top of the grassy slope. They stopped when they saw her.

She bit her lip so not to scream. Blood ran over her tongue. Her hands clutched the reins until they were numb. Did she go for her rifle or run? Her heartbeat throbbed in her head, leaving no room for a clear decision.

The ground dropped away a few feet to the right. How far would the fall be? God, please help me.

She didn’t want to die here. Would they even find her body? What if they didn’t kill her? What if they took her?

The horror tales shared in hushed voices clouded her brain. Her horse took another step back. Did she lift her hands in peace or pull the rifle? Her father taught her to never point a gun at someone unless she was ready to kill.

She could kill only one, and the others would be on her. If they were slow, she could get two, but there was no way to kill all three.

What if her life was over right here and now?

“Santiago.”

For a moment, she thought someone had called out to her brother, but he was dead. Was she already dead and didn’t know it?

“Back your horse to me.” It was Jackson’s low steady voice that offered sanctuary. One slow step at a time brought her even with Jackson. He was holding up a rifle.

Without thought, she pulled hers from the casing and rested it against her shoulder. It was two against three now. This was doable.

Lungs filled with sweet air. She might live to see home again. The three dark warriors stared at them.

“Go on to the wagon. I’ll follow you.”

Gulping down a few breaths so she could find her lost vocals, she cleared her throat. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

He growled. She held her weapon firm and steady despite the trembling of her heart. She couldn’t help but think her father and brother would be proud.

Her mother? Horrified.

“Start backing straight out, keeping them in your sight.” He lowered his gun, resting it across the saddle. She mimicked his action.