by Em Petrova
“I’m well, daughter. How are you surviving?” Her father’s rumbled question made her eyes sting with tears. She hadn’t seen him in a year and missed him terribly. Even though he was still far away, he provided for her, sending what money he could.
She leaned against Señora Garcia’s corner store and plugged her other ear against the loud voices and street music. She hated not having a phone of her own, but right now three meals a day would be a luxury.
“I’m fine, Papa.” She didn’t want him sending more money. A ranch hand didn’t make much as it was, and he was out of work. Doing odd jobs wasn’t steady, and he was sending her way too much.
Of course she’d never tell him how little his money stretched. Her small rental was in bad repair, and she was in a terrible section of town. Nightly killings and rape didn’t even cause the authorities to blink. Each evening she barred her door and prayed she’d get out of this hell before she became a target.
That nasty baboso Mateo was lurking around her dilapidated sanctuary more and more. He’d invited her to have tequila with him, and to attend the street party. She glanced around. She was in plain sight, and she had to hurry home before she got caught up in the festivities and Mateo found her.
“How have you been, Papa?”
“Well, daughter. I called to share good news.” She could almost see his smiling face. Too bad he and her madre hadn’t worked out a way to bring them into the United States as citizens. Secretly she believed her father knew he couldn’t support Mama and her on his small income. Besides, he was a roamer. He went where there was work. That would be impossible with a family tagging along.
He continued, “I found employment on a ranch. It’s in Texas, and it’s isolated, but they have a lot of cattle and need the help.”
“That’s muy bien!” She didn’t like the idea of her papa sleeping in the open and working for his next meal either. Times had always been tough for both of them. Would they ever have easier lives? It would be nice to be together too. For years she’d dreamed of him bringing her into the States with him.
The building was warm against her back, still holding the heat of the sun. She moved a bit, and the phone crackled—the cord damaged from so much use. She had to get out of this city, but how? She had no money and work was so hard to come by. If she wanted to earn her living on her back, she could make enough to flee, but the price was too high.
“As soon as I get a check, I’ll be sending it to you, Maya. All of it.”
“Papa, no!”
“Yes, daughter. I won’t be needing it. Where I’m going there’s a bed and three square meals a day. From what I hear, Mrs. Dalton’s one great cook too.”
She smiled, heart warming for her father. He’d worked hard his whole life to give her the small things she had. Poor Mama. She’d struggled for too long and had never seen the golden side of life she deserved.
Maya wouldn’t die without knowing a better world.
“You make sure you have what you need before you send anything to me,” she told her father.
“Don’t worry about me, girl. I have big plans this time. I’m going to get you out of there, Maya. Before something happens to you.”
The tears she’d been holding off burned, and she turned her face away from the street so no one could see her battle. Keeping her voice even, she said, “I want that.”
“You hang in there, girl. The money should come to you within the month.” His voice was gritty with what she thought was emotion.
She nodded then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Thank you. Te amo, Papa.”
“Love you too, girl.”
Maya listened to the dial tone for thirty seconds before she hurried back inside. The store was almost louder than the street. She thanked her friend for the use of her phone and hurried into the throng of people.
It seemed this city was always celebrating. Parties came with steep prices though. The faces around her already burning red with too much drink, and a few people were involved in a fist fight. Before festivities ended, there would be too many depraved acts to count.
Maya scuttled through the crowd, looking over her shoulder every few steps. If Mateo didn’t follow her, someone else might. She headed through an alley and past a couple having public sex. She averted her gaze, but such a sight wasn’t unusual. Loud music and laughter followed her as she made it out the other side of the alley and navigated the darker streets toward the place where she lived.
Could Papa really do it this time? Get her out of Mexico and into the States? Rumors and news reports said so many US citizens frowned upon giving citizenship to people like her. But what did she have here?
Bad living conditions, no family. No way to earn for herself, and nowhere to flee to.
She dreamed of running into her father’s arms and being lifted and whirled as she had when she was a child. It was probably better that he hadn’t stayed with Mama and had found something better. Without his hard decision to leave, she and Mama would have long ago starved.
As she bolted the flimsy door of her home, she drew deep breaths against the constant fear she felt. She had no choice but to trust her father. Hopefully he would have good news for her soon, and that small bird of hope could keep still before she did something drastic and desperate.
Chapter Two
Cash cradled his thermos of hot coffee and leaned against the porch rail. His brothers were inside raiding the pantry for what they called “first breakfast.” Long ago Momma had made it clear that she was no good waking up before the roosters crowed, and the boys were on their own. Later she made a big, hearty “second breakfast” to fill them up.
Kade stepped onto the porch, quietly closing the door behind him. “Not hungry?”
“I got a couple granola bars.”
“Thought you hated the things.”
Cash didn’t answer, just gave a nod then set off down the porch steps and across the turf to the barn. He loved this time of day. The cool air filling his lungs, a thin band of light on the horizon. It was a time when a man could make peace with himself.
Last night he’d lain awake for hours. Ever since Hank had found his bride, Cash had been more restless. Of course he was ready to plow up his piece of land and put enough corrals to house the number of horses he wanted. But if he were honest, he wanted the woman.
Someone soft in his arms. Charlotte had the prettiest hair, all fluffy and light above her shoulders. It was impossible not to wonder how it felt to share a pillow with her.
Manuel Perez came out of the barn, already sweating from work.
“No need to get started before the sun’s up,” Cash said, producing the granola bars from the back pocket of his Wranglers. He passed them to the new ranch hand, who accepted them with a nod of thanks.
“I like to do a job I’m paid for.”
“Well, at least come up to the house for first breakfast in the future. You can’t work on an empty stomach.”
The hand had been on the ranch for a little over a week, and he was still feeling his way. While he was a work horse for Pa, he wasn’t all that comfortable around the Daltons yet. He was too formal, too afraid of stepping on toes.
“I appreciate it, Cash. Maybe tomorrow.”
Cash eyed him from under his hat. “Better make that a promise. I’ll share my granola bars but I won’t share my coffee, and you’re missing out, having this liquid gold in your veins first thing in the morning. Besides, I know how hard it is to sling your aching bones off that bed in the barn.”
The small room was clean but the bed had no luxury mattress. Cash had spent a year sleeping out there in his teens, refusing to share his room with Witt another day. His brother had been an impatient ass in adolescence, and thank God he’d settled since.
At least a bit.
Manuel nodded, a hint of a smile working around the corner of his hard mouth. He unwrapped his granola bar and bit off half in one chomp. The man was lean and wiry with muscle, but Cash had seen him with his s
hirt off a few days ago, and he didn’t like how skinny he was. Spoke of too little food.
“Got a lot to do today,” Cash said, setting aside his coffee thermos and lifting his saddle. The chestnut was a good, solid horse and had become one of his favorites. He ran him every chance he got.
“A lot of new cows to brand.” Manuel tore into his second granola bar.
“Yeah, but picking them out of the herd is a pain in the ass.” He tugged the straps to tighten the saddle on the chestnut and led him from the barn.
His brothers were outside, crumpling wrappers in their fists and shoving them into back pockets. Momma had complained more than once about trash going through the washing machine.
“Hey, Manny,” Hank greeted the hand.
The rest of the brothers said hello, and then they all saddled up and split off for morning chores, but Manny worked alongside Cash. Not by anyone’s orders—guess he just felt more comfortable with him.
Cash lost himself in work. There was a rhythm to the ranch that soothed away the restlessness of last night. The sound and smells of cows worked like a balm. He was glad for the break. He didn’t relish the burning longing. He wondered if this was what Hank had felt while waiting for Charlotte to come around.
He stopped and dismounted. Manny reined up beside him and swung to his feet. “Loose fence.”
“Yeah.” Cash planted his hands on his hips and surveyed the bit of fence. The top part hung loose. “Looks like something jumped over and caught the wire.”
Manny nodded. “Think we lost a cow?”
“Dunno. It’s hard to believe any of these heifers would be agile enough to make it over.”
“Could have been a deer.”
“Yeah. Or a yearling.” He met the ranch hand’s gaze, and they both headed for their horses.
Two hours of searching later, Manny cornered the stray yearling against a stand of trees. Cash unhooked his rope and gave it a whirl and toss.
As the lasso landed over the cow’s neck, Manny let out a whoop. Cash grinned. It was the first time Manny had shown any personality. “Good goin’, Cash!”
The animal pulled, tightening the rope. Cash kneed his horse in the other direction and the cow was forced to follow. As they headed back toward the ranch house, Manny said, “At least we’ve got one of the yearlings to brand.”
Cash released a short laugh. “Yeah, but she’s made us miss second breakfast. My stomach’s got claws and it’s trying to get out.”
Manny bowed his head. “I know the feeling.”
“Tell me about you. Got a wife, kids?”
“Used to have a wife. She passed a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“We weren’t that close. I had to leave home to look for work here in the States. We spent more time apart than together.”
“A tough life.”
“Always is for cowboys.”
Cash nodded. He’d put in years of his life for the good of this ranch, but he never thought of it as difficult. He loved it. Of course, he was working for a better future for him and his family. Manny didn’t have that.
“Got a girl, though. A little beauty across the border still.”
“She alone?”
“Yeah.” Manny’s voice broke, and Cash noted the struggle the man wore was due to much more than he’d originally thought. “I promised to bring her across, but I don’t know how I’m going to do it.”
They reached the paddock, and Manny slid off his horse. His shoulders slumped as he unsaddled his mount and released it into the small fenced area to run and cool down. He reached for the rope attached to the yearling, and Cash unwound it from his pommel.
Docile and biddable, the beast had realized it was no match against Cash. Manny led it to an empty corral and shut the gate behind it while Cash released his horse into the paddock.
Cash approached the ranch hand. The set of his shoulders spoke of his worry. “I’m sorry for your troubles, man. Life’s hard.”
He nodded, eyes downcast. He looked a lot older than he had an hour ago.
Cash clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “If there’s anything I can do—”
Long brown fingers clasped Cash’s wrist, and the man raised his gaze. “There is, amigo. You’re a good man. A man who finds lost animals.”
“That’s a cowboy’s job.”
“Yes, but you do not need to bring me extra food and you do. You take care of an old man. Maybe you could take care of my daughter too.”
Confusion rushed over Cash like flood waters. He tried to take a step back, but Manny tightened his grip. His eyes glittered with a fever that raised alarm bells in Cash.
“You’re a good man who is handsome and free. You come with property and a respected family. You could marry my Maya.”
Surprise socked Cash in the gut. He shook his head. “What’s come over you, man? I can’t marry anyone.”
He inched close so their chests nearly touched. His eyes burned with desperation. “She’s trapped in a hell. Little money, dangerous city. And she’s alone. It’s only a matter of time before something bad happens to her. You could help. Marry her and give her citizenship.”
Cash ripped his hand away from the old man’s clenched fingers. He stumbled back a step. “You’re out of your mind.”
“No, I’m not. Maya is a good daughter, beautiful and worthy.” He fumbled in his back pocket and came out with a battered leather wallet. He flipped it open and pulled a square free—a wrinkled photo, the edges white from wear.
Cash’s throat closed off as he imagined Manny taking the photo out time and again, staring at it and wishing he could give his daughter a better life. But Cash wasn’t the man for the job.
Besides, how old was this girl? Was she even legal?
Manny thrust the photo under Cash’s nose. Sleek dark brown waves, skin a golden tan.
Cash knocked his hand away, trying to un-see the glow in the woman’s espresso-brown eyes and the fullness of her lips. He turned and started walking to the house.
Manny jogged beside him. “She’s beautiful, no?”
“Yeah, she is. But she’s not for me. I’m not in the market for a wife.”
Wait. I am. But not this way.
When Manny grabbed him around the torso, Cash steeled himself. Every muscle in his body surged with adrenaline. He didn’t want to flatten the old man, but he would.
“Please.” His voice was ragged. “She would be a good wife to you.”
“You have no way of knowing that. And this is America—we don’t have arranged marriages.” He locked his hand around Manny’s and pulled it free.
Manny fell back, panting, hand over his chest as it rose and fell. Was he going to collapse? He’d been mighty worked up, and maybe the man’s ticker wasn’t in good shape.
Cash released a sigh. “Look, I’m sorry. I understand you’re worried about your daughter, but you need to find another way to help her.”
Manny thrust the photo into Cash’s palm. “Just keep the picture. Think about it.”
Heart thumping, Cash closed his hand around the photo. Thoughts of getting flapjacks drenched in butter and syrup fled. “Go in and eat. Momma will have breakfast waitin’.”
The ranch hand seemed to shrink in his clothes, defeat bearing down on him. “Okay. Just think about it, Cash.”
Yeah, he already was. Too much.
* * *
Cash cocked the hammer and struck the board. The nail sank in three-quarters of the way, and another tap nearly drove the head through the plank.
“Whoa, brother. What’s with the brute force?” Hank set down the beam he was carrying.
“Just stronger than I thought, I guess,” he mumbled.
Hank chuckled. “Yeah, right.” He stared across the landscape toward the main house. “I thought Beck was coming up to help?”
“I guess he had a long night in Vixen.”
“Vixen? What the hell’s in Vixen besides the coffee shop, mark
et, gas station and school?”
Cash set another nail and poised to strike it. “People gotta work at those places.”
“He’s on a wife hunt in Vixen?”
“Appears that way.” He drove the nail with less frustration than the first.
“I guess Vixen’s as good a place as any to look for a woman.”
Cash stood up the section of wall he was building and Hank hammered a second portion on. They stepped back and surveyed their small progress. “Another million hours and we’ll have your house built, bro.”
“Tell me ‘bout it.” He issued a sigh. “I’m going to have to ask the bank for a bigger loan. I need to hire a crew.”
“You going to put them up in the barn? No crew’s going to drive here every day.”
Hank shook his head. “I don’t know what else to do. Maybe now that Manny’s got the workings of the ranch under his belt, you can spend a few more hours up here helping me.”
Cash stiffened. He didn’t want to talk to or about Manny, let alone think about the man’s proposition.
“Maybe you’d rather spend your spare time in Vixen too?”
“Nah.” Cash set to work. If the pair of them built all the walls, they could have Pa and their brothers help erect them in one day.
“I can’t imagine a lot of girls to choose from in Vixen. Most of those we went to school with have fled to greener pastures. The rest are either married or receiving social security benefits.”
Cash snorted. “Witt said something about a new student teacher program at school.” Thoughts of Maya flooded his mind. He had her picture in his back pocket. Why had he placed it there?
He and Hank worked in comfortable silence while Cash stewed about her.
“What the hell’s going on?” Hank asked at last.
He sat back on his haunches and removed his hat to run his fingers through his hair. He didn’t have the patience to think out his speech. “What would have happened if Charlotte’s dad asked you to help her out?”
Hank gave a shake of his head like a horse given two different commands. “Her dad wouldn’t have to ask. I’d do anything for her.”
