The Ranger Takes a Bride

by Misty M. Beller

  "I've brought you a visitor." She pushed the door wide and stepped inside, placing her bundle and rifle in the corner.

  Elena scurried in behind her. After handing off the second bundle to Alejandra, Elena hastened to the bed and perched next to Mama Sarita, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I came to check on you, Señora. Is there anything I can do to help?"

  The image pressed firmly on Alejandra's conscience. She should have been kinder to Elena. The woman had come to help. And it wasn't Elena's fault that her husband was still alive and well, despite all the other men dead.

  No, Alejandra should rejoice with her friend that the babe's father lived, and they wouldn't be cast into the streets. The way Alejandra and Mama Sarita were about to be.

  As soon as the mother and child left, Alejandra moved toward the stove. "What would you like for la comida?"

  "No, mija. Come sit at the table with me. We must talk."

  Alejandra spun to face Mama Sarita. Her voice held such a weight. Such dread, laced with determination. She didn't meet Alejandra's gaze, but motioned toward a chair at the table, as she settled into the one next to it.

  Alejandra sank into the chair beside Mama Sarita. What now? Had something else happened?

  "Mija. I have sought the Lord's guidance for our next direction."

  Alejandra nodded, her mind churning with the information Elena had shared on the walk over. "Sí, Mama. Elena said there are jobs for women in Nuevo Laredo. We could work together as cooks maybe. I'll see if I can find a ride for us on a wagon."

  Mama Sarita's hand settled on Alejandra's arm, stopping any further chatter. "That will be good for you, but do not seek a ride for me."

  The words echoed in the quiet room, but couldn't penetrate the walls of Alejandra's understanding. "What?"

  Paper shuffled as Mama Sarita raised a hand from her lap, displaying a stack of tattered letters. "I should go live with my sister."

  Sister? Mama Sarita had never spoken of family before, save Papa Ricardo and Luis. If she had a sister, why didn't she speak of her? Why didn't the sister take part in all the holidays? Familia was so important to Mama Sarita.

  And then a terrible thought struck her. Though she was Mexican in every way that mattered now, Mama Sarita had been raised in America. Is that where her sister still lived? It was too awful to even consider.

  "Are…are you saying move to America?" Alejandra tightened her jaw, trying to still the quiver in her chin.

  "Sí, mija. I must go home."

  Home? The word struck Alejandra like a blow to her face. She grabbed Mama Sarita's hand and pulled it across the table to her own bosom. "But, Mama. This is your home. We must stay together. We have to." It didn't matter that her voice rose like a frightened horse in a barn fire.

  Mama Sarita dropped the papers on the table, and brought her free hand up to cup Alejandra's cheek. "Alejandra. You are as dear to me as any daughter. Sí, my greatest wish was for you to marry my Luis and become my daughter truly. That cannot happen now, but you will always be in my heart.

  "But a young woman like you has so many choices. I will help you find el esposo. A husband who will protect and cherish you as you deserve. As my own Luis would have done." The older woman's voice caught, and her rich brown eyes glistened.

  "And when I am content your situation is good, I will go home to my sister. To Texas."

  Alejandra clamped her teeth over her lower lip, holding in the sob that fought for release. No. None of it could be true. Everything about Mama Sarita's words was so wrong.

  She couldn't marry yet. It was too soon after Luis's death. And Papa's. And she would not marry without love. She and Luis had been good companions. Her love for him was perhaps not as great as her love for his family. But she would not allow herself to be promised to another man for whom she had not even friendship.

  And Texas? Mama Sarita couldn't leave. No. Not to another country. Even if it was the place she had grown up, how could Mama Sarita want to go back to the land of the soldiers who had killed her husband and son? The sob in Alejandra's chest broke free, loosening the tears she'd tried to hold back.

  Mama Sarita pulled her into an embrace, clutching Alejandra's head to her shoulder and rocking. "Mija. My Alejandra." Over and over she murmured the endearments. Rocking. Holding. Letting Alejandra cry without shushing her.

  At last the torrent of tears slowed enough for Alejandra to quench them. She sniffed and pulled back, wiping her eyes with the underside of her apron. "I'm sorry."

  "Hush, mija. Don't apologize. Tears are healing and can bring clarity. I have cried many tears myself to reach this point."

  Alejandra nodded. Her mind was clearer. There was no doubt now what she had to do. Inhaling a long breath, she met Mama Sarita's gaze. "You're sure you want to go to Texas?"

  Nothing but love shone in the older woman's eyes, bolstering Alejandra even more. Her decision was right.

  "Sí, mija. It's a little town there called Seguin. The people are good. I have prayed much and feel it's the Lord's will." Her hand closed in a fist over her heart.

  "Okay, then. We will go."

  Mama Sarita's forehead wrinkled, confusion turning the deep brown in her eyes murky. "You don't have to go with me. I understand your home is Mexico."

  Alejandra forced resolve into her spine. She couldn't back down now. Placing her hand in the woman's dear, callused one, she kept her voice gentle but firm. "Mama Sarita, where you go, I will go. You're my only family left. I won't let you leave alone. I can't. Where you live will be my home also."

  Mama Sarita's mouth pinched for a long moment, and the expression in her eyes bespoke a battle among her emotions. Finally, a corner of her lips quirked. Then the other side. Her eyes softened into the most radiant smile Alejandra had seen in days.

  "My Alejandra." With those words, Mama pulled her into another embrace, squeezing with such fierce love, there could be no doubt of the emotion. Alejandra clung to her in return. Surely anything they would have to endure in America would be worth it, as long as they were together.

  Right?

  Chapter Three

  Alejandra wrapped the red shawl tighter around her shoulders and hunched underneath the pack on her back. They'd been walking for days now. She'd lost track of how many sunrises they'd seen on the trail, but it'd been more than a week since they rode the raft across the Rio Bravo and landed on Texas soil. With every day they traveled, the landscape became a little more lush, even though the grass had turned an early-December brown, and the trees were mostly skeletons. The air held a little more chill now, too.

  A soft mew from behind brought Alejandra's head around. The cat sat on the road staring at her, as if it refused to take another step. Even though she carried him half the time, this trip had been hard on the little furball. "Come on, Rudy. Catch up." He released one more sad mew, as if making sure his complaint was documented, then scampered to catch up.

  A movement at her side caught Alejandra's attention. Mama Sarita stumbled and gasped as she went down on one knee. Alejandra reached frantically, and snagged a handful of the woman's sleeve. She held on tight until Mama Sarita regained her balance, then rose to both feet.

  "Are you hurt?" Alejandra bracketed her with a hand on each shoulder and peered into tired eyes.

  "No. I stumbled on a rock. I'm all right."

  She allowed a long breath to slow the wild beating in her chest. "I wish you would have let me buy a donkey for the trip. This is too far for you to walk, especially carrying a pack." Truth was, if she'd had enough money, she would have bought the donkey without Mama's consent. Even after all the things Mama Sarita had given away to neighbors, their belongings filled two large satchels. It was too much for the older woman to carry day after day.

  "Mija, I'm old, but I’m not decrépito. The walking is good for me, and we'll save our money for our new life." She patted Alejandra's arm, then turned and strode off, her step a little jauntier than before. Was she trying to prove she was up to the challe
nge?

  Alejandra sighed and forced her own heavy feet to move, lengthening her stride to catch up with the other woman. It would help if her legs weren’t so short, especially compared to Mama Sarita's tall, willowy figure.

  Ahead of her, Mama Sarita's head bobbed, and she listed sideways. Before Alejandra could leap forward, Mama was down on one knee, then rolling onto her side. The whole scene happened as if in a dream. One of those terrible dreams where Papa was falling over the edge of a cliff, and no matter how hard Alejandra pushed, she couldn't make her body move faster than a slow crawl. In the dreams, she would finally reach Papa just as his grip on the ledge loosened, and she would watch him writhe as he dropped down, down, down…

  She landed on her knees at Mama Sarita's side, forcing the remnants of the dream out of her mind. "Mama!"

  "I'm all right, mija." But her breath came hard and her words wrapped around a groan. The older woman's hand drifted down to her right leg.

  "Where are you hurt? Your knee?"

  Mama shook her head once. "My…foot." Her face scrunched, then she struggled to sit up.

  "Lie still, Mama. Let me look at it."

  But Mama Sarita pushed aside her words with a wave of her hand. Against her better judgment, Alejandra helped her sit up, then knelt by her feet and loosened the laces on her shoe. It was a homemade boot, constructed of a soft leather upper and several layers of thick cowhide for the sole. Or perhaps the leather had been stiff in the beginning, but had softened after many years of wear.

  As she slid the shoe off, a moan crept out of Mama Sarita. Alejandra swallowed back her own cry as she peeled down the stocking and the puffy red flesh of the ankle glared up at her. A pale green seeped just under the skin. She'd not seen such a bad sprain since Papa'd been thrown from one of the younger saddle horses when an angry bull charged.

  Alejandra raised her head to examine their surroundings. No houses in sight, and she couldn't remember seeing any for at least ten or fifteen minutes now. Should she walk on ahead and try to find someone to help? There was no way Mama Sarita could hobble very far. Trees bordered the road just ahead. Should she try to settle Mama Sarita inside the woods so she'd be protected? That looked like the best option for now.

  Alejandra gazed into her friend's pain-streaked eyes. "Do you think we can get you over to those trees?" She nodded toward the woods. "Then I'll go for help."

  Mama nodded. "Yes. I think we're not far from San Antonio, maybe another mile or two. Just get me off the road, and I'll be fine."

  She tucked Mama Sarita's arm around her neck, and together they hobbled the twenty paces to the edge of the tree line. As she was about to lower the older woman to the ground, a rustling noise sounded within the timber.

  "Wait, Mama. I hear something." Alejandra held her breath as she listened. Could it be? Had luck finally smiled on them? "I think I hear water running ahead. Can you rest against this tree while I go see?"

  Mama nodded and released Alejandra for the smooth bark of the maple tree. Deep lines formed around her eyes, and her lids hung half closed. Alejandra's heart clenched at the sight. She had to get her settled soon, but a cool stream would be the very best thing for Mama Sarita's swollen foot.

  She dashed through the trees, as Rudy scampered along underfoot. "Move, gato." She grunted, side-stepping so as not to crush the animal. When a small stream appeared through the woods, she could have cheered.

  But moving Mama Sarita to the spot proved agonizing. Not because the sweet woman complained, but because it was clear from the shaking in her hands and her heavy breathing that every step was pure torture.

  After settling her with the swollen ankle submerged in the creek, Alejandra loosened Papa's rifle from where she'd tied it to her satchel. "I'll only go as far as I need to, until I find el cabello for you to ride. And la comida to eat."

  Mama Sarita gripped Alejandra's arm, her strength surprising after what she'd endured in the last hour. "Do you remember the English words?"

  "Sí. Horse y food." Alejandra pronounced each word as clearly as she could, forcing her mouth around the strange sounds. They'd practiced American words every day on this journey, but it had taken a day or two before Alejandra summoned any desire to learn the language of these people. How she wished now she'd worked harder to memorize everything Mama Sarita tried to teach her.

  "Bueno." Mama Sarita nodded. "I mean…good. I must begin to speak more English to you. 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."

  "Sí, Mama. I'll leave the rifle with you." She reached down to give Rudy a final pat. "Stay here, boy, and help Mama Sarita." The cat meowed, brushing against the gathered blue fabric at the base of her skirt.

  Alejandra left the wooded area with the solid bounce of pesos bumping against her side in the pocket of her skirt. Urgency pushed her forward, and soon she began to pass houses. The homes grew closer and closer together until stores filled the roadside. Each building seemed to be taller and more ornate than the last. Curved scrollwork or solid pillars decorated many of them, along with bright paint colors and elaborate signs. How could these people afford such luxury on the outside of the buildings? What must the insides look like?

  The writing on the signs made no sense, but some of them had pictures, too. One showed a boot and another a dress, so Alejandra watched for a signed that showed some kind of food. But it was her nose that alerted her first. Never had she smelled anything as tantalizing as the aroma that poured from the squatty building just in front of her. Of course, it may not have smelled half as wonderful if she'd had anything at all to eat that day.

  Her stomach rumbled like a weaned calf. Alejandra rested one hand over her midsection to still the noise, and peered through a window in the front of the building. It was crowded, with some people milling about, and many more sitting in groups at tables around the room. Was this a mercantile? It wasn't like any los mercados back home.

  Just then, three men exited the building, and stood on the wood sidewalk for a moment. One man spoke, and the other two laughed. The man's words had come so quickly, Alejandra had no idea what he said. Maybe these men could tell her if this was a mercantile.

  She took a single step forward, and gathered a breath with her courage. "Señors?"

  All three men turned to stare at her. The man closest pinched his mouth into a smile that made her hands clammy. Like Señor Rodriquez, who Papa had warned her to stay away from. Best to ask her question and get away from them.

  She pointed toward the building they'd just exited. "Es mercantile? Sí?"

  The first man's smile widened, raising bumps on Alejandra's arms. He took a step closer, and she shuffled back. Her short legs didn't take her very far though, and he grabbed her arm. His hand clamped around her wrist, and Alejandra squealed. How dare this man touch her? She jerked back, but his hold was like a vice.

  The others were around her now. Touching her arms. Her back. Her face. Alejandra twisted and fought against their hold, but they pressed in. Smothering. She bit and kicked at them, her boot making contact with flesh once.

  American words spewed from the mouth of the man in front of her, and he pressed his face just inches from hers. Hot breath laced with the stench of tequila, suffocated, bringing up bile into her throat. This vile Americano would pay for his actions.

  Gathering as much moisture as she could summon, she spit hard into his face. The man blinked, then his features glowed an ugly shade of red. In the next second, the air filled with shouts, and a hard object slammed into her left cheek. Pain radiated through Alejandra's head, and lightning bolts flashed across her vision. Another fist crashed into her eye.

  A mighty explosion split the air, and the noises stopped abruptly. The hands dropped away from her body, and relief washed through her. But without the support of them, Alejandra's legs lost their strength. Her vision went fuzzy, and her knees hit the ground as her sk
irts collapsed around her.

  Alejandra fought hard to stay awake. To make the world stop spinning around her. She held very still for a moment, her gaze focused on the ground while she willed her head to settle. A man's voice pierced the air above her, but she couldn't see what was happening. It took every ounce of concentration to focus her vision. Finally, the ground stopped spinning. Her head still ached, and her cheek burned, but she slowly raised her gaze to where the men stood above her.

  But no one was there. She eased her head in both directions. Even through fuzzy vision, it was plain she was alone. Those three awful men were gone. What stopped them?

  And then she saw him. Her eyes focused on a single cowboy, standing several paces away. He stood tall, with brown hair cut short and a leather vest over a clean blue shirt. But it was the look in his eyes that stopped her short. They sparkled, reflecting a genuine emotion. It almost looked like…kindness?

  But she gave herself a mental shake. She would be loco to trust him after what those other desperados did. Biting her lip against the spinning, she slowly rose to her feet and faced the man.

  "Hello." His voice was rich and held a tone that seemed to match the compassion in his gaze.

  What should she say? Should she turn and run? The throbbing and spinning in her head wouldn't let her move fast. No doubt he would catch her if he really wanted to. And what about food and a horse for Mama Sarita?

  The man took a step forward and spoke a short sentence in American. Try as she might, none of the words were familiar. Should she ask him to speak slower? Or dare she ask where the mercantile was? That hadn't worked so well with those other men.

  He let loose another string of words she couldn't decipher. Alejandra shook her head, frustration building in her chest. Something about this man made her feel safe, but that wouldn't help if she couldn't understand a thing he said.

  She thought back to some of the words Mama Sarita had taught her. Aha. Carefully shaping her mouth, she said, "No speak…American."