A guttural growl, his only response, was followed by his hand dropping. Weeping from disappointment was the only thing she wanted to do.
That wouldn’t be wise. He had done the right thing. The cowboys could see them.
Jackson protected her from her own foolishness. Stepping back, head down, she mumbled an apology. Wanting the comfort his warmth offered, she had forgotten others watched them.
He crossed his arms. “Why are you here?”
“You hired me to—”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Why are you following me like an abandoned puppy?”
The words stung like a scorpion’s tail. “I think you shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“Here.” He yanked her bible from the inside of his vest and shoved it into her hands.
“Go rest. We’ll be riding out early.” Without another word, he turned and headed to the river.
Standing alone, she looked at the men, then at Jackson’s stiff and strong back. She didn’t really belong anywhere. Jackson was the boss. He shouldn’t be hanging out with the cook’s assistant.
She understood the need to be alone. After her mother’s and brother’s deaths, there were times it was just easier not to deal with people. Tomorrow, she’d ride with him. Hopefully, tonight he’d visit and she could tell him another story.
With a sigh, she headed to the wagon. There were times she wanted to be alone, but not now. She wanted to spend time with Jackson.
She’d get some rest and wait for him. He would talk to her soon, even if she had to hunt him down.
Chapter Eleven
Hawken rifle in hand, Sofia jumped from the wagon. A new level of pain surged through her body with every movement. Areas of her body she had always ignored were sore and stiff. The stampede had happened three days ago, and her body ached more now than it had when she fell. She’d never admit it to Jackson though.
He was being ridiculous about her staying in the wagon, and he refused to talk to her.
Cooked called from the driver’s perch. “Do you have enough branches for the back wheels?”
In less than two days, the terrain had gone through a drastic change. The hills and rocks gave way to wet soggy ground. Cook said it was a good sign they were getting closer to New Orleans.
All she knew was that the wagon kept getting stuck. She had gotten good at throwing branches under the wagon and using her brother’s rifle to help the mules pull wheels out of the bogs.
“What are you doing?” Jackson’s sudden appearance caused her to jump.
When she realized it was him, anger surged through her tired limbs, rejuvenating them with energy. After being so caring and sweet when she came back to camp, he had turned into a grumpy stranger. It was rare she saw him, and when she did, he just fussed like an old woman.
“I’m doing my job.” She made a point not to look at him as she layered branches.
“You’re to stay in the wagon. There are snakes and alligators out here. You’re still bruised from your fall. Are you having a hard time walking? Does it hurt?”
She sighed. “Rory was shot, and he’s riding with the herd. You need me out there, but since you won’t let me, I’m helping Cook.” Going to the other side, she wedged the butt of her brother’s rifle under the wheel.
He just growled at her, like some wild animal.
She put her weight into the rifle to hold it steady. “Go, Cook!” She cut her gaze back to the infuriating man. He’d become worse than her father. All her weight went onto moving the wheel. He made another guttural disapproving grunt.
With a sigh, she shook her head. “You know, verbal skills help when two people are communicating.” Each word came through gritted teeth.
“We are not communicating. I told you to stay in the wagon, and you’re ignoring me.”
The mules pulled the cart free. Sprinting, she ran to the front, tossed the rifle on the footboard and pulled herself up into the moving wagon. “You hired me to do a job. That’s what I’m doing.” Picking up the weapon, she wiped the mud onto her pants. At this point, more dirt on her didn’t matter, but her brother’s rifle needed to stay clean. She gave in and glanced at Jackson.
He sat in the saddle with ease, as if he and the horse were one. His profile gave the impression that he was just along for the ride, but she knew what the miniscule flexing of his jaw meant. Good, she wasn’t happy, either.
The wagon lurched over a fallen log. She grabbed the side with one hand and gripped the rifle tighter with the other. She was going to be tossed over the side.
Twisting in his saddle, Jackson caught her. His wide palm pressed flat against her shoulder. Arm braced, she looked straight at him. Heat ran through her limbs to her stomach. It all radiated from his hand. Another bump, and she remembered where she was. With a sigh, she looked down before righting her seat.
The warmth of his hand vanished as he pulled it away in a quick motion. Raising her eyelids, she found he went back to staring at the horizon before them. Was she the only one who reacted to their contact?
He rubbed his open hand on his chaps as if he touched something undesirable. An unforgiving line formed on his full mouth.
Heat lingered at the spot where his hand had rested. She missed the nightly conversations before the stampede. How did she get his friendship back?
“Mija, are you okay?” Cook glanced at her as he snapped the long reins. His normally friendly face formed hostile lines, tight and grim.
Jackson shot a glare at Cook. “Your assistant is a boy, not a mija. You need to remember that.”
“Jefe, I’m not the one with the problem remembering.”
Not knowing what else to do to relieve the tension, she laid her hand on Cook’s arm. “It’s okay.”
A harsh throaty sound came from her boss. “It’s not okay. Santiago—” sarcasm dripped from her pretend name “—fell into the river and was lost. Almost killed. He’s not strong enough for this type of hardship.”
Her mouth fell open. Any thought of peacemaking ripped its way out of her thoughts. “You pretended to be different, but you’re just like all the other men in my life. I’m strong enough. More than strong enough. I not only saved Rory, but I got back to the camp without a horse. I did that all by myself.”
Tears stung the bottom of her eyes. She bit down too hard, and the taste of blood hit her tongue. Relaxing her jaw, she made a vow to not cry. Not in front of him anyway. He would see tears as proof that he was right. They thought she was weak and needed to be kept indoors.
She was so much more. What did she have to do to make them see all she had already done? She was just as capable as the men, if not more so. “I can help. You need another drover. Right now, with you wasting time checking on me, who’s in the back with Red?”
“He’s covering the back from the center. He’s got it under control.” He sighed. “I do need to get back. In the next couple of days, we should reach the Neches River.”
Cook made a clicking noise to the mules and nodded, making eye contact with Jackson. “Last time I rode with Señor Taylor White, we used the new Collier’s Ferry. They have holding pens and places for the boys to wash and sleep. Our supplies are getting thin. It’s five miles north from the old crossing.”
Instead of responding to Cook, Jackson studied her with narrow eyes.
“What?” She glared back. He was just getting ridiculous. “What did I do now?”
“I hear the new ferry was established and run by Sterling Duval. Not sure if it would be a good idea to camp there.”
“Sterling Duval?” She sat up. “I’ve heard stories of him. He was one of Lafitte’s pirates.” Her heart rate pounded faster throughout her body. “A real-life pirate. I hear he stands six feet and six inches tall and can—”
“He’s a pirat
e, a thief. We can cross at Ballew’s.”
Cook shook his head. “The edge of the crossing at Collier’s is easier for the cattle to get in and out of the river. Less risk of losing them to drowning. Plus, everyone could really use a good night of rest. He has a nice station set up.”
Jackson made that guttural growl of his when he was displeased. “Rest? In the company of a giant pirate? No, I think it’s too much of a risk.”
“It’s because of me, right? Because I’m a woman, you think you need to keep me away from the notorious Sterling Duval?” Even his name sounded adventurous. “I’ve been a boy for weeks now, and I can stay a boy.”
Jackson grunted. “I’m not sure anyone really believes you’re a boy anymore.”
She turned to Cook. “Who else knows I’m not a boy?”
He shrugged. “Rory knows. The others just see what they think they’re supposed to see. Estevan might wonder, I can’t tell. Red, Clint and Sam are good cowboys, but also a bit dense when it comes to things outside the usual.”
She faced Jackson. The wagon jostled her to the side, reminded her of the beating her body took a few nights ago and still hurt. “You’re risking the herd and the men because of some misplaced goal of protecting me from a retired pirate.” Fire clashed with ice and battled throughout her limbs.
“Pirates don’t retire. He’s just found another way of being a pirate. I don’t trust him whether on the water or settled on land trying to look respectable. He’s a pirate.”
He had to understand he endangered lives of men and cattle being so stubborn. “When you found out I was a woman, you told me that I wouldn’t get any pampering. I would have to work as hard as everyone else.”
His jaw started working in double-time, popping in and out.
“I’ve done that and more. What else do you need from me to prove I can do the work?”
“Need I remind you that in the process of doing the work, you almost got killed? And the mare you rode was injured. You can’t ride her.”
“We have more horses.”
Cook snorted.
“It’s too dangerous.” He still didn’t look at her.
“I. Survived. We need to take the fastest route to New Orleans. Let me saddle a horse and help. Let me do what you know I can do. Rory is out there with a bullet hole in his shoulder. Let me help.”
One hard jerk brought his head around, and his green eyes smoldered. “Rory is fine. He doesn’t need your help.” Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Relaxing in the saddle, he sat back and let out a heavy sigh. “Get your gear and get a horse. I’ll move Sam to the back and put you in the front.”
“No. You know that’s not right. I’ll just join the herd in the back.”
“It’s the—”
“It’s where the new guy goes. I know the trail rules.” She eased over the bench and went to the back. Finding her saddle, she tossed it out. From inside she yelled a little louder to make sure he heard. “Don’t you dare move someone to the back just to give me a better spot.” Throwing the bridle and rope over her shoulder, she went to the back and jumped from the rolling wagon.
Standing over her saddle, she planted her fists on her hips. “I can do this, and I want to do it right. No favors.”
Not giving him time to argue, she gripped the pommel of her brother’s work saddle. Well, it was hers now. A sadness washed over her. Her brother wouldn’t use his saddle or his prized rifle again. Would he be happy that she was using them?
“Give it to me.” Jackson had brought his mount up next to her, his hand stretched down.
Was he not listening to anything she said? “I can carry my own saddle.”
“I’m well aware of that fact, but it would be faster if I took you to the horse so you can pick a mount. It would be easier for me to pull you up if you don’t have the saddle.”
“Oh.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure your horse can carry me and the saddle?”
“If you continue to question everything I suggest, we will never get anywhere.”
“You mean like the way you doubt me even after I proved myself?” She might be pushing him, but she couldn’t afford to let him go back to treating her like a porcelain doll. What if he took her saddle and forced her back into the wagon?
“You are too suspicious for your own good. I’ll balance your saddle in front of me, and you can ride behind me.”
Heat burned her cheeks. They would be sitting on the same horse.
He sat back and pulled on the reins of the restless horse. The gelding had been standing in one place too long. “Are you going to give me your saddle, or are you going to return to the wagon?”
Without answering him, she lifted the saddle and waited while he adjusted its bulk. Finished, he reached for her again. Taking his hand, she jumped and swung her legs over the back of his broad horse. Not knowing what else to do she placed her hands on his waist.
With a nudge of his knees, the horse lunged forward, forcing her to hold on a bit tighter than she had planned. He laid the reins over the horse’s neck, and they made a sharp turn and headed to the drive.
She scanned the long line of cattle. They were almost to the market where they would sell the steers and most of the horses. Would Jackson be open to staying on the ranch? If her father liked him and trusted him, maybe she could convince him to stay.
He might have put up a little fight about her riding with the cowboys, but ultimately, he allowed her to do the job she was good at.
Working together at the ranch would help the others see her as more than the owner’s daughter. The little girl that grew up with them. He knew what she could do and would make a good partner.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She really didn’t want to look at her own motivation, how she felt about him as a man. That would just get in the way of her dreams.
Jackson nodded to Estevan as they rode up to the horses. Jackson let his horse mingle with the moving herd. A fluttering tickled her lower belly as she readied her lasso to pull a horse out of the herd. Today she was riding with the cowboys, working with the cattle from horseback.
“The little bay is good.” Jackson eased farther into the moving body of horses.
“She’s the slowest one here.” Sofia shook her head. “I can’t believe you suggested her. I would be better off on the injured mare. You’ve seen me ride. Please stop doubting me.”
“I’m not doubting you, I just want... I want you to make it home, and sometimes slower is safer.”
“Not always. If something happens and I get in trouble because my horse was too slow, you’d feel so guilty.” She punched his shoulder. “I can’t let that happen. I want the Appaloosa.”
He laughed and weaved between the horses, changing direction. “Either way I’m not sure I’m going to survive knowing you are riding alone in the back of the herd.”
“I’ll be on the swiftest horse out there.”
“And the most headstrong.” He looked back at her and grinned. “Come to think of it, you’ll make a perfect pair. The horse is all yours.”
Getting close enough to drop the loop around the gelding’s neck, Sofia couldn’t help but smile. She had a new favorite horse.
Moving out of the mass of horseflesh, they got far enough away that Jackson finally stopped. She sat there for a moment, not wanting to dismount. She had missed Jackson the last few days. Being close to him, she didn’t feel so alone. Resisting the urge to press her cheek against his back and linger in the warmth and scent of him was difficult. She needed to stay focused on her bigger dream.
He smelled of outdoors and leather. So much better than her own scent after weeks of not being able to wash off. It was just too risky with all the men around.
“Are you asleep?” He twisted in his saddle and studied her. “Are you all right
?”
Sitting back, she realized how close she had gotten to him. With a sigh, she swung her leg over and dropped to the ground. Oh, that hurt.
Gripping the edge of his saddle blanket, she bit her lip, trying to remain stoic, but it didn’t seem to work.
Jackson was on the ground next to her, his hand on her back. She wasn’t sure if she could stand straight. Everything hurt so much, and a deep moan escaped. Taking a deep breath, she sucked in her gut and stood straight. “I’m good. Just stiff.” To prove it to him, she took a step to her new mount.
She ran her hand over the short mane along the top of his neck. The horse had a good height on him and was wide in the chest. Jackson laid the blanket and saddle on the broad back. “He’s a sound horse.”
Nodding, she held the mouthpiece for a moment to warm it before slipping it between his teeth, then fastened the leather behind his ears. “I think he likes me. He didn’t hesitate to take the bit.”
“That’s a good sign. Red gave up the other morning and just picked another horse.” Jackson checked the cinch, then went back to his sorrel.
She loved the coloring of the Appaloosa. He was white with large red spots covering his whole body. The ones on his rounded rump were the biggest. He was not a regular cow horse, and that suited her just fine, because she was not a regular cowboy.
Swinging into the saddle, she smiled at Jackson, then kicked her horse into action. She ignored Jackson’s warning to slow down. She knew where she was going, and she was ready.
For years, she dreamed about riding and working the cattle on the ranch, now God had given her this opportunity. She wasn’t going to let anyone stop her.
* * *
Jackson forced himself to turn his horse away from the departing spitfire. He wanted to go after her and remind her of all the dangers.
It wasn’t his concern if she knowingly put herself in harm’s way. He looked to the sky and took in a heavy breath. If he said it enough times, maybe he’d start believing it.
He didn’t care about her any more than he cared about the other cowboys. He didn’t. He couldn’t.
Lone Star Bride Page 9
