He dropped his hands as if they were burned. “Are you married? Is there an angry husband who will run us down and shoot us?”
“No. I’m not running from anyone or anything. Returning to the ranch after the drive is the plan, so I can work there. That’s all I want, and the only reason I’m here.”
He didn’t look convinced.
It was time to remind him what she had already done. “Just like I did when the bull was about to gore you. All that matters is I can handle the work. I’m fast at learning, too. One lesson, and I hitched the mules.”
“The trail is not the same as the ranch. It’s even more dangerous and unpredictable. It’s no place for a female of any age.”
“I didn’t say I was a woman.” She talked from the back of her throat, hoping it sounded rough and manly. “I have a dream for my life, and riding out across the country is part of that. What about your dreams? That’s why you’re here, right?”
“This isn’t about me.” Each word slipped between gritted teeth. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “There’s plenty of work on the ranch. Why do you need to leave to do that?”
“If I can go with the herd and come back, that’ll prove how good I am at the work that needs to be done. I have to prove I can do this. I might be small, but I’m strong. The thought of being trapped inside all day for the rest of my life, planning meals and making sure the dust is gone, is a nightmare. It makes me sick.”
“Some men don’t come back from the trail.”
She stood straighter. “I’ll come back.”
Confusion and bewilderment clouded his face. “You’re a strange female.”
She heard that already this week. Narrowing her eyes at him, she took a step back. “I’m just telling you why I want to ride with the herd.”
A grim slant tightened his lip. He looked off to the river moving over the rocks and around the roots of the old cypress. “You’re still claiming to be a male?” He cut his gaze back to her.
Her throat constricted. Life was so unfair. All the power to change the direction of her life was in his hands.
Closing her eyes, she prayed. She prayed for wisdom, for fortitude and for guidance.
Standing as tall as she could manage, she made sure to look him in the eye and hold his gaze. Show no fear. “You hired me to work with the cook. I’ll be cleaning the chicken crate, taking care of the mules and starting fires. I have the safest job on the drive. Please, you don’t have time to replace me. Let me do the job. You won’t regret it.”
Last year, during a father and son lesson, she overheard her father talk about tending to business. He said the best way to ruin a deal was to overtalk when you were nervous. State your requirements, then stay quiet. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to remain silent.
He crossed his arms, glanced at her, then went back to studying the water. Moving his hands to his pockets, he sighed and looked down.
She held her breath.
“Okay, Tiago.” Sarcasm coated his voice. “I think we’ll stick with that name. It’ll be easier if the rest of the crew continues to believe you’re a boy. Less disruptive. Plus, I don’t really know all of them, and I’m not sure we can trust them.”
Her heart thumped against her chest. She was staying. “Thank you. I’ll be the best cook assistant you’ve ever had.”
“Just keep your head down and stay out of trouble.” Jaw tight, he squinted at her. “You sure about this? There’s still time to go back to the ranch. It’s going to get rough out there, and you’re not going to get any special treatment.”
“I don’t have anything to go back to right now.” Her heart wanted to jump out of her chest. Holding her smile at bay the best she could, she gave him a nod. “I’ve been ready for this longer than I remember.”
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, and she ran to the wagon. It was official. Jackson knew she was a woman, and she still had a job. One less thing to worry about. Every moment from here on out was a gift from God. She was going across the country with a herd of cattle, all the way to New Orleans.
It was time to get her job done. Going through the crates and barrels and making a list of the supplies wasn’t as fun as roping and herding, but it was what she had for now. With a glance, she checked the location of her boss. He stood with Cook.
Back there, he gave in so quickly. She mentioned dreams and his expression changed, but that couldn’t be all. She wondered if her seeming to be of low status had anything to do with it. Would he be willing to give her this chance if he knew she was De Zavala’s daughter?
Chapter Six
Jackson took a deep breath, drawing in the morning air. A light fog hugged the low ground between the hills. Sounds of soft rumblings from the cattle and calls from the cowboys assured him all was going well.
The herd looked good, and everything was going as scheduled. The six drovers were in place, guiding the steers.
Cook had done this trail several times and started earlier in order to stay in front. The wrangler, Estevan, had the horses following the wagon. Jackson had checked on Tiago at daybreak, and she had seemed eager to get started.
One night on the ground hadn’t scared her off. He wondered if she would have the same smile by the end of the week. His wife had hated traveling. She had joked that if they went anywhere, he would need a wagon big enough for a bed and a tub.
His thoughts returned to the wagon’s petite passenger. Had he made a mistake that would put the whole trip in jeopardy?
He needed to stay focused to make sure everyone got home safely.
A horse ran up behind him. He put his hand on the butt of his rifle and turned to face the newcomer head-on.
It was the woman. He had a hard time thinking of her as Tiago now that he knew the truth.
Her smile was wider than the Mississippi. “Cook said it would be easier on the mules if my saddle and I weren’t in the wagon. I saw you up here and wanted to see the herd moving out.”
“This is not a sightseeing excursion. You can’t be running all over the place without—”
“Cook knows where I am, and I don’t need a chaperone. I’m Tiago, remember.” She pulled her horse up next to his as if she wasn’t afraid of him one bit.
He allowed his gaze to take in her profile. Even with the short hair and baggy clothes, she was perfectly feminine.
“If I had any sense, I’d send you home now, before we get too far out.”
The smile disappeared, and with one quick motion she pinned him with a hard stare. “No. We came to an agreement. You have to honor it.”
“Yeah, you also agreed to stay close to the wagon. Less than twenty-four hours out, and you’re running wild.”
The hat wobbled with the panicked shake of her head. “I’m not close to the herd.” The rawhide gloves tightened over the slacked reins. “You need me and I’m...”
Oh no, was she tearing up? He cleared his throat and turned away, not sure what to do or say.
“Look at this, Jackson. It’s breathtaking. I want to hold it close to my heart and never forget it. The sounds and the sights. An endless motion of animals moving as one over the land I love. How could I miss seeing this?”
She looked back to the never-ending line of moving longhorns. “This is what I dreamed about.” Turning to him, her smile was faint, but making its way back. “Thank you.”
He sighed and scanned the wide-open vista. Texas was a place where big dreams found a home. “No reason your dreams can’t come true just because you’re a woman.” What kind of woman would his daughter have become?
Would he have allowed her to have plans outside of the roles set for women? She had been six when she was killed, so he’d never get to know.
That morning he rode out she had asked to go with him, but he though
t she’d be safer at home with her mom and baby Jack. The anger that simmered in his gut flared.
If he had taken her with him, she’d still be alive and turning eleven soon. “If you’re not with the wagon, stay close to me. I don’t want the others figuring out you’re a female.”
She nodded, happiness back on her face. “Thank you.”
“Come on.” He nudged his horse down the hill toward the sea of cattle. “What we want is an uneventful trip. That takes awareness and anticipatory action.” In order to make sure he did his job, he had to stay focused. Maybe keeping her close would be easier. Wondering where she was at any given moment was going to wear him out.
* * *
Sofia took in everything around her. Later tonight, she would write it all down. She wanted to burn every detail into her memory.
The future her mother had wanted for her was a pale watercolor compared to the real-life energy brushed across the valley they were passing through.
Jackson checked in with each of the drovers.
Will Redmond and Rory Brosnen covered the end of the herd. Rory, the one she learned was from Ireland, was the first rider they approached.
“You got a bodyguard now, boss?” He smiled at her. “So we have the honor of riding with the tiniest bullfighter in all of the country.” He clicked a couple of times to the cattle before turning back to her. “Maybe we should trade places. I’ve been known to cook up a mean meal, and my ropin’ skills don’t touch yours.” He followed that with a wink.
Sitting straight in the saddle and staring at the horizon, she didn’t respond.
Jackson frowned. “Tiago will be staying with the cook or me. There will be no trading.”
Rory laughed. “Easy, boss, I was kidding with Two Bit here. You Yanks are so serious.”
“I’m not a Yank.” Jackson grumbled something else under his breath, but she couldn’t make it out.
“Where I’m from, you’re all Yanks. Except for Two Bit here. What are you, kid?”
“I’m a Texan. Why did you leave your home and come all the way here?”
“Oh, you don’t know the rules on the trail.” He shook his head as if truly disappointed in her.
In a panic, she turned to Jackson. “Rules?”
Jackson sighed. “You don’t ask a man about his past, ever. If he wants to tell you, he will, but you never ask.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Brosnen. I didn’t mean to offend you.” There was so much about being a boy she didn’t know. Her brother would have known not to ask those questions.
“No worries. Call me Rory. I have a clean shirt, a clear conscience and enough coins in my pocket to buy a pint. Life is meant to be lived in the moment with no regrets. But I can tell you already know that.” He winked again. Maybe he had a tick.
Jackson cleared his throat and urged his horse forward, cutting between her and Rory. “We’re going to talk to the others. See you tonight, unless you run into trouble. Let me know.”
“Yes, sir.” His voice had a touch of laughter in it as he saluted them. “See you tonight, Two Bit.”
Once they got out of hearing, Jackson looked at her. “You need to stay away from the men.” He shook his head. “You don’t look anything like a boy, you’re too pretty. I’m not sure we can maintain your disguise.”
Normally, that would be a compliment. Coming from a man like Jackson, it made her want to blush, but she knew he wasn’t flattering her. To him, it was a problem.
“I’m not sure what else to do.”
“It was a mistake to let you ride with me to the herd.” He squinted at her.
“What?” She wiped at her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
“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
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 be
en 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?
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