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.
A middle-aged woman holding a child's hand passed them on the sidewalk and flashed them both a wide smile. The people here were so kind, even if some of them did look a little strange. Maybe they'd come to a good place after all. A place where she and Mama Sarita could start a new life.
Something flashed across the street. Just the glimmer of sunshine on metal, but it grabbed Alejandra's attention. A wagon passed, obstructing her vision for a few seconds. When it moved on, her heart froze. The sun had glinted on metal pinned to the shirt of a man. Tall and burly, with dark hair covering his face. And a gun hanging from his side. El Soldado.
Even in this town that seemed so friendly, they hadn't escaped the presence of soldiers. Alejandra gripped the package in her hands tighter and lengthened her stride. Soldiers had killed Mama, Papa, Luis, and Papa Ricardo. There was no way she'd let them separate her from Mama Sarita.
No way.
~ ~ ~
Alejandra slid the brush through the long coffee-colored strands of Mama Sarita's coarse hair, as they prepared to start the day. With all the tangles gone, she wove her fingers through, melding the hairs into a secure plat at the nape of her neck.
How should she make her request this morning? Mama Sarita, I feel I'm a burden to your sister and her husband. Won't you please let me inquire about a job at the hotel? That hadn't worked the first time, nor any of the other days this past week since she'd first seen the sign at The International Hotel. But maybe today Mama Sarita would consent.
She gathered her nerve and tried to keep her voice casual as she asked, "Mama Sarita, do you mind if I leave you for a short time this morning to inquire about work at the hotel?"
Mama flicked her hand in a careless wave. "There will be time for that later. Today we go to see my sister's niece. Anna lives on a ranch outside of town and is great with child. She's about your age, I think. Or maybe a little older." Mama Sarita turned to pat Alejandra's cheek. "You will like her, mija. It's good for you to meet new friends."
Alejandra inhaled a breath to calm her clenched muscles. Friends she could do without. Work she needed. "How long will we be gone? Perhaps I can go to The International when we return?"
Mama Sarita's shoulders raised in a slight shrug. "I can't say. My sister said it's two hours to the ranch. Let's just go and enjoy the day with our new friends. Sí? We'll worry about the other when the Lord directs." And with that, Mama rose and tied an apron around her slender waist, signaling an end to the discussion.
Alejandra turned to the window as she fought back tears. Why was Mama Sarita being so difficult about this? Didn't she understand they needed to build their own life in this new land? Did she really want to rely on the hospitality of others for the rest of her life? Alejandra couldn't live that way.
The door clicked closed behind her, and Alejandra released a shaky sigh, then stood to don her own apron. She'd already started coffee on the stove before coming back to help Mama Sarita dress. She usually loved the special time each morning with Mama Sarita, but not today. Somehow she had to find a way to convince the older woman….
Chapter Six
Would she ever understand enough of the American language to follow a conversation? Words flowed around the breakfast table that morning, and from what Alejandra was able to pick up, it seemed the topic focused on their upcoming visit to the ranch. Mama Sarita would sometimes turn to Alejandra to interpret an important comment, so she could keep up. But for the most part, she found herself studying the faces of each person when they spoke. Each time Tía Laura mentioned Anna's name, a warmth settled over her face and voice, and her smile shown in her eyes.
When the meal ended, Alejandra began scrubbing dishes. Around her, clean-up and preparations for the outing took place in a whirl of bustling skirts and rapid-fire strings of American words.
Not thirty minutes after she stood from the breakfast table, Alejandra found herself seated on the outside edge of a wagon bench, with Mama Sarita in the middle, and Tía Laura perched on the other end, holding the heavy leather reins. She drove the team like a woman on a mission, clicking her tongue and snapping the reins if the horses slowed.
The sun had just risen high enough to break through the winter gray, when they turned off the road at a lone fencepost onto a smaller dirt track. A house nestled in the distance, with a barn and a few other buildings nearby. Lines of wood fence spread out from the structures like ant trails in the sand. They crisscrossed each other in funny shapes, with some sort of animals inside—probably horses.
A man met them when they pulled into the ranch yard. Underneath a wide-brimmed sombrero, his black hair was tied with a strap, revealing deep lines in his leathery face. Such a face could only have come from a lifetime of hard work in the Southern sun. The lines creased deeper when he smiled in greeting. "Laura. Is good to have you visit."
His accent made the American words easier to understand, and the familiar angle of his features started a bubble of excitement in Alejandra. This man hailed from Mexico. The first countryman she'd met since arriving in Seguin.
He bowed slightly to Mama Sarita and Alejandra, a twinkle lighting his dark eyes. "Señora. Señorita. Señora O'Brien será tan feliz de tener que visite."
Alejandra could have jumped down and hugged the man. Finally, someone besides Mama Sarita who could speak words she understood. She'd never take such a blessing lightly again.
&nb
sp; She responded in Spanish, with a pleasant nod. "Thank you, Señor. We are looking forward to our visit with Señora O'Brien."
As soon as he helped them down from the wagon, the man led the horses away, and Tía Laura herded them all toward the front door. The home was larger than it looked from the road, with two levels and a wide porch spanning the front.
Tía Laura pushed the door open without knocking. "Anna? Emmaline?" She stepped inside a long hall, untying her cloak as she gazed around.
A clatter of footsteps echoed from one of the rooms, and a tiny whirlwind of brown hair and blue fabric burst from a side doorway, flying into Tía Laura's arms.
"My Emmy-girl!" Tía Laura squeezed the child tight, then held her at arm's length. "Emmaline, I'd like you to meet my sister, Mrs. Sara, and Miss Alejandra."
The child turned to them, her chin dipping toward her chest, creating the cutest folds in her neck. Alejandra had to pinch her skirt so she didn't reach forward and tweak the adorable little button nose. The child couldn't be more than four or five. As cute as she was, though, it was the girl's eyes that were truly spectacular. A clear crystal blue, the color of the sky on a spring day. "Hello." Her voice dropped to a mouse-like level.
Alejandra squatted to meet the girl's gaze. "Hello, Emmaline." If only she knew more American words to speak to the child.
But she was saved the effort by a female voice calling from one of the side rooms. "Emmaline?"
The child came alive, babbling non-stop as she took Tía Laura's hand and led her in the direction of the voice. Alejandra glanced at Mama Sarita, who shrugged and followed her sister.
They entered a large room with several comfortable chairs positioned in a half-circle around a massive stone fireplace. A woman struggled to rise from a double-wide chair, her round belly protruding so she could only stand by pushing herself away from the chair seat.
The Ranger Takes a Bride Page 4
