The Ranger Takes a Bride (4 page)

A pinch of jealousy snagged Edward at the smile she aimed toward the liveryman. But the effect it had on the fellow was a bit funny. Red crept up his neck and into his cheeks, almost matching the orangeish red of his beard and hair.

"What'd she say, chap?" He spoke out of the side of his mouth in a low tone, as his gaze dropped to where his boot toed the ground

Edward couldn't help himself. "She said her pa taught her all about horses. And she said she wouldn't let an old Scott like you show her anyway."

The man's head shot up. For a second, he stared at Edward. Then a slow smile spread across his face. "You're a hoot, Stewart. She didn't say that any more'n you spoke German."

He allowed his own grin to break free as he clapped Malcom on the shoulder. "You're right. But she did say her Pa taught her to drive a team. I think she'll be fine."

Malcolm looked up at the woman again, then back at Edward. "All right, then. Reckon I'll be inside if you need anything." He gave the lady another half bow. "Good day, ma'am."

When he was gone Edward stepped closer to the wagon and rested his hand on the corner. He spoke in Spanish. "Is there anything else I can help you with in town? I'd take you to Seguin myself, but I'm supposed to report for work this afternoon here in San Antonio."

Her chin dipped as her mouth spread into a shy smile. "You've done too much already. I thank you for your kindness."

He had to fight his reflexes so he didn't reach up and stroke the delicate skin of her cheek. He had to get control of himself. What if he never saw this woman again? He had to report for another assignment today, so it would be days or even a week before he got back to Seguin. But he'd look her up for sure.

And then a thought struck him. He gazed into those beautiful dark eyes. "I don't know your name."

Her lips pulled into a teasing smile and her eyes danced. "Alejandra Diaz."

Alejandra. It rolled off her lips like an exotic song. Everything about this woman was intoxicating.

"And you are?"

Like a simple-minded dog he stood there looking at her. He reached up to tip his hat, then realized it wasn't there. Instead he offered a lazy salute. "Edward Stewart, Miss Diaz. It's been a pleasure to meet you."

She rewarded him with that same radiant smile she'd given Malcolm. His heartbeat sped up and his stomach did an extra flip.

"I thank you, Señor Stewart. You've been most kind. I'll bid you adios now."

With that, she gave the reins a strong shake. The horses stepped into the harness, pulling the wagon forward.

"Adios," Edward called. Something in his chest constricted, as he watched her drive down the road and out of sight.

Chapter Five

Reining
the horses to a stop beside the trees that sheltered Mama Sarita, Alejandra set the wagon brake and jumped to the ground. This blue skirt didn't billow like her brown one did, letting her move more freely.

Carrying the bread and meat, she wove through the trees until she reached the river. Mama Sarita sat with her eyes closed and foot extended into the water. Her lids flickered open when Alejandra dropped to her knees beside the older woman.

"I brought food and a wagon. Eat some now, then more while we travel."

"Gracias, Dio," Mama Sarita whispered the prayer, as she took the bread Alejandra offered. The woman's eyes studied Alejandra's face while she ate, halting at her left eye. "Mija," she breathed, reaching to almost touch the aching skin. "What happened?"

Alejandra gulped. "It's nothing. Some people weren't friendly, but a kind man helped, and I have what we need now."

"Mija." The word repeated, sounded almost like a groan this time.

Alejandra looked around for a distraction. Mama Sarita had enough heartache without worrying about that. "Tell me when you're ready to go."

"I am ready."

Strapping the rifle over her shoulder, Alejandra rewrapped the leftover food, then helped Mama Sarita stand and hobble through the trees. As they walked, she scanned the area for the cat. No gray ball of fur scampered beside them, so she raised her voice to call. "Ru-dy!" Nothing.

Mama Sarita hobbled slower now, her face contorted into a grimace. But they were almost to the road.

Once they reached the wagon, Mama Sarita held onto the side while Alejandra laid blankets in the bed. They worked together to lift Mama Sarita and her very swollen ankle up into the conveyance. By the time she lay back against the blankets, much of the color had drained from her tanned face.

Alejandra stroked hair from the older woman's face. "I'll get Rudy, then we'll move on. Hopefully you can sleep while I drive."

"Gracias." The word was faint, and Mama Sarita's eyelids had already drifted shut.

Alejandra retraced their steps to the stream, calling her wayward cat every few seconds. Where could he be? He was normally underfoot, always wanting to be close to her. She'd never been concerned he'd run away.

At the water, she paused to scan the bank in each direction. "Ru-dy!" Something moved upriver, rustling the leaves as it scampered near a tree. Her heart picked up speed, but then the animal stepped away from the tree. Only a squirrel.

She walked that direction anyway, calling Rudy's name as she went. What should she do if she didn't find the cat soon? Leave him? That would mean one more loved one lost. Moisture stung her eyes. Why was life so hard?

Maybe they could spend the night here, and give Rudy time to come back? But Mama Sarita needed a doctor. She surely didn't need to sleep out in the woods with her foot swollen. And they wouldn't have enough food if they didn't leave for Seguin today.

After walking for several minutes, she came to a break in the trees. In the clearing sat a tall farmhouse, at least two levels high and painted white. Could Rudy be there? Dare she go ask if they'd seen him?

But what had Mama Sarita said?
Don't stop at the houses you come to, but go into San Antonio and find a mercantile. You never know what kind of people you'll meet on the road, but a storekeeper will help you.

Considering the kind of men she'd met in town, how much worse would people living out here be? She couldn't chance it. Retreating back into the woods, Alejandra followed the stream back to where she'd started, still calling the cat every few moments. As she trudged through the woods back to the wagon, the tears finally broke through her lashes. Her precious cat, and one of her last two friends. Gone…

~ ~ ~

The next morning, Alejandra drove the wagon through the gateway of the solid wall around the little town of Seguin.

Mama Sarita released a contented sigh beside her. "We're here, mija. We've finally made it."

It'd been a long night getting here, but to have Mama Sarita in a safe place where she could recover from her injury would be worth it. This town was smaller than San Antonio, but the one- and two-story buildings were still nicer than most she'd seen in Mexico. Except maybe the casa grande where the Don and Doña lived at Rancho Las Cuevas. That had been a huge, two-story structure that sprawled over an enormous plot of ground. With courtyards and gardens, and everything extravagant.

The homes that lined the street were attractive, but not too showy or vulgar. As they drove farther, signs hung from the fronts of some of the buildings, and a few people strolled along the wooden walkway that lined the street.

"Mama Sarita, do you know which is your sister's home?"

Mama's lips pinched as she examined first one side of the street, then the other. "No. I've not seen their new home. In her letters, she said they live above their store." She pressed a hand on Alejandra's arm. "Here, stop the wagon and let me ask these women."

Alejandra obeyed as Mama Sarita spoke to the ladies in American. One was an older woman, her hair white-gray with a few dark streaks. The other was a little younger, maybe a few years older than Mama Sarita.

Both women's faces lit up when they heard Mama Sarita's question. The younger smiled and pointed down the road as she jabbered something Alejandra couldn't understand. She was really going to have to work on her American. Even if she couldn't speak much, she needed to be able to understand what was being said around her.

Mama Sarita spoke to the ladies again and waved. Alejandra picked out the words "Thank you," before Mama Sarita turned to her.

"They said it's the second to last building on the left side of the street. The name 'Stewart Mercantile' is over the door."

Alejandra nodded as she slapped the reins on the horses' backs, and they started off.

The building was just where the women had said, a two-story structure built of the same white adobe-like material as many of the other structures. Alejandra reined in the team beside the mercantile, then jumped down and turned to help Mama Sarita. Instead, the woman held out a letter.

"Here. Take this inside and show it to whoever is behind the counter. Tell them to
come outside
." Mama Sarita used the American words "come outside," sounding them slowly.

Alejandra took the paper and strode toward the door, repeating the two words over and over in her mind. She would learn the American language if it killed her.

A bell on the door tinkled as Alejandra opened it, and her eyes immediately found a tall, broad man behind the counter on the left side of the room. The rest of the open room was similar to the mercantile in San Antonio, but not as large. It was early in the day still, and no other customers were there.

"Howdy, Miss." The man had a booming voice, but at least she was able to understand those two words.

She stepped toward the counter, picking her way around a table stacked with cans. "Señor." Holding the letter out like a sign, her mouth formed the American words. "Come outside, por favor."

The lines on his forehead deepened as he took the letter and examined the writing on the front.

"Come outside," she said again, this time pointing in the direction she'd come.

A light dawned in his eyes. He seemed to understand what she wanted him to do, and his face held a curious half-smile. He said something Alejandra couldn't understand as he strode around the edge of the counter and motioned for her to precede him.

Alejandra released her breath as she scurried toward the door, where Mama Sarita waited. Alejandra went to stand next to Mama Sarita's side of the wagon and watched the man.

He stopped on the boardwalk, and raised a hand to shade his eyes as he took in the two of them and the wagon. It was clear the instant he recognized Mama Sarita. His eyes grew into round circles, even under the shadow of his palm. He took a tentative step forward. "Sara?" His voice held wonder, as if he might be seeing a vision.

"Hello, Walter." Emotion spilled out of Mama Sarita's tone.

"Sara," he breathed again. He stepped back and it looked like he would turn and hurry inside, but then he changed direction and strode toward the wagon. "Let me help you down. Your sister will have my head if I wait one more second before I bring you in."

"Wait." The single word from Mama Sarita stopped him in his tracks at the base of the wagon, and he raised the hand to his eyes again to shield them from the Eastern sun.

"What's wrong?" Walter's booming voice was laced with concern.

Mama Sarita answered him, but the only words Alejandra could pick out were "hurt," "Laura," and "here." The man spun on his heel and disappeared back in the shop.

Mama's eyes sparkled when she turned to smile at Alejandra. "He's gone to bring Laura. You'll like her, mija. She's one of the sweetest creatures God put on this earth."

The joy that lit Mama Sarita's face as she described her sister made Alejandra's heart constrict. One wicked part of her regretted having to share Mama's love, even with her own sister. But her nobler side couldn't wait to meet the woman of whom such good things could be spoken.

They didn't have to wait long. Footsteps inside gave warning just before the front door burst open and a tall, willowy woman bounded out.

"Sara!" The woman—who could only be Laura Stewart—had Mama Sarita in an embrace almost before Alejandra could step out of the way. The sisters laughed and cried and hugged for almost a full minute as Alejandra and Laura's husband looked on. Then Mama Sarita leaned back from her sister's embrace and wiped her eyes. She gathered Laura's hand in her left, and reached for Alejandra with her right hand.

She said something to her sister in English, with the words "daughter" and "Alejandra." Then she turned to Alejandra and bestowed a smile filled with such love, Alejandra wanted to spring into her arms. But instead she listened as Mama Sarita said in Spanish, "Mija, I'd like you to meet my sister Laura and her husband Walter."

Laura stepped forward then, and wrapped Alejandra in her arms. Her words weren't distinguishable, but the warmth in her hug was clear.

~ ~ ~

The
next morning, Alejandra was elbow-deep in wash water as she scrubbed a frying pan and listened to strings of American words fly back and forth between the sisters. Tía Laura—as she insisted Alejandra call her—stood beside her with a clean cloth, drying and putting the dishes away after Alejandra cleaned them. Mama Sarita sat in a chair by the table with her swollen foot propped in a second chair.

As they worked, Tía Laura rattled on about something to do with a "store" and a "baby." Alejandra allowed her gaze to travel around the small room as it had done more than once since they'd arrived yesterday. This was so much nicer than the adobe huts with dirt floors they'd lived in at Rancho Las Cuevas. And in the bedroom where she and Mama Sarita had slept, there was a real mirror, the mattress sat on some kind of wood contraption that kept it off the floor, and there had been soft cotton squares filled with goose down for them to lay their heads on. She'd not slept so well in years.

A laugh from Mama Sarita broke through Alejandra's thoughts. As the laughter faded, Mama Sarita spoke in Spanish. "Mija, my sister asks if you'd like to go with her on her errands this morning. She's going to the meat market, so maybe you can choose a pork haunch to make tamal de cerdo for the meal tonight. We need to teach Laura and Walter an appreciation for our Mexican food." Pleasure emanated from her tone, and Alejandra couldn't bring herself to say no.

"Sí. I'll go." But that didn't mean she was looking forward to going out into this strange town with a woman who didn't speak her language. At least together they should be safer than Alejandra had been alone in San Antonio.

An hour later, Alejandra found herself taking quick steps beside Tía Laura's long strides. It was warm for a December day, but Alejandra still pulled her red shawl tight around her shoulders. Many more people traversed the streets today than she'd seen from the wagon yesterday. A strange mixture of people, young and old, some with light skin like Tía Laura, and others with dark skin the color of a sorrel horse. Alejandra tried not to stare, but she'd never seen people quite like them.

At the next shop, Tía Laura motioned for Alejandra to follow her inside. The inside was dark and stank of raw meat, but Tía Laura didn't seem to notice as she strolled along the glass counter. She greeted the man behind the counter, and only then did Alejandra notice he, too, had dark ebony skin like some of the people she'd seen on the street.

He returned the greeting with a smile, and his bright white teeth shown in the dim light of the room. Alejandra couldn't quite pull her eyes away from him. As he and Tía Laura completed their business, his voice rolled in a lilting accent. It was pleasant to hear, but she couldn’t understand anything he said. Not a word.

Outside again, Tía Laura named several buildings as they passed, offering a word or two of explanation if the occupation wasn’t clear by the name. The International Hotel pricked Alejandra's interest right away. Might they have any work for her? What was the American word for someone who cleaned a house or hotel? She'd have to wait until she learned how to say them from Mama Sarita before she inquired at the hotel.