by Lyn Cote
Just then the Mexican captain stepped outside and motioned toward his two men to bring the Americans forward. When Ash explained his role, the five of them trooped behind the captain into the commandante’s office.
The commandante was obviously a Creole rico, treated as a nobleman here. He was most likely one of the descendents of the Canary Islanders, who had settled in Mexico along the San Antonio River Valley. His European heritage showed in his pale skin and blue eyes. Ash greeted him with formal politeness, removing his hat and holding it to his chest and bowing low. He turned to the Americans and said, “Hats off and bow.”
The Anglos hesitated, but then removed their hats and made the slightest of bows toward the commandante. Ash could see Kilbride’s jaw working the way it did when he was about to blow up in anger. Ash didn’t think Kilbride had enough sense to know how much danger he was in here, but Ash couldn’t help that.
The interview did not last long. Ash explained to the commandante why the Andersons and Kilbrides were in Texas. The commandante did not think the charter that Moses had obtained and then passed to Stephen Austin after his death would be valid in light of the change in government. He commanded the Americans to stay in San Antonio until he received notification from Mexico City. He said in two days his regular courier would be heading south to Mexico City and he would add to the papers a request to the government for a decision at that time. Then he dismissed Ash and the Americans.
When Ash explained this to the Americans he warned, “If I were you, I would just bow and leave now. It’s best not to object directly to the commandante and certainly not to counter him this first time. You need to think this over and find a way to persuade him to let you leave San Antonio. We have a saying here in Mexico, ‘Obedezco pero no conformo, I obey but do not comply.’ Now smile and thank the commandante for his time.”
Kilbride lost his temper. “Thank him! We should have been with Austin by now!” He threw his hat to the floor. “I won’t stand for this!” he roared. “You have no right to stop us!” He charged the commandante.
One of the soldiers struck Kilbride over the head with the butt of his musket. Kilbride hit the floor hard, unconscious. The commandante waved his hand and gave an order, “¡Llevele al cárcel!”
The two Mexican foot soldiers each picked Kilbride up under a shoulder and dragged him out. The Andersons, looking stunned and disbelieving, did not move. Ash motioned for them to follow him.
Outside as they walked across the courtyard, followed by another pair of the soldiers, Cole asked, “What’s going to happen to Kilbride?”
“He got himself thrown into jail,” Ash said, not feeling sorry at all.
“For how long?” Mr. Anderson asked, sounding hollow.
“Don’t know. This isn’t the United States. We don’t have laws I’ve heard you got protecting a man’s rights. Or maybe we do now if we have a constitution.” Ash shrugged. “But that doesn’t matter here and now. Kilbride could stay in jail for months.”
“Whatever possessed him to act that way?” Cole asked.
“The man’s a jackass,” Anderson said.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Ash agreed.
Anderson looked like he wanted to put Ash in his place, but swallowed the words.
Ash shrugged and walked back to his wife. Reva started to ask him questions, but Ash shook his head at her. She quieted and the two of them rode through the plaza, Reva leading the mustangs by a rope, Ash herding the cattle before them.
Outside of the plaza, Ash followed the San Antonio River until he came to a jumble of jacales. Near the first one, he slid down from the saddle and called out the common frontier greeting, “Hello, the house!”
An older Mexican woman came to doorway and called back, “What do you want?”
He moved nearer. “Don’t you recognize Dulcy and Emilio’s son?”
“Ash! You have come home!” More exclamations and shouts of welcome came as other family members came out of the other doors: “¡Hola! ¡Saludo!”
His aunt invited, “Come in, come in. Let your cattle graze in the fenced pasture near the river.” Everyone stared at Reva but waited for Ash to introduce her.
Two young boys herded the cattle away to the rough pen. Ash turned to Reva. “This is my father’s family’s land. They speak some English.”
“You didn’t tell me you had family here.” Reva looked worried.
“Just my aunt, and some cousins.” Then he introduced Reva, and they were overwhelmed with women and children who drew them into the largest jacal. On a bench against the wall, he and Reva sat side by side.
His aunt sat beside them as the younger woman hurried to offer them coffee and tortillas: “The men are still in the fields for the day, Ash. They will be excited that you have returned.”
Ash sat back and listened to the women question Reva about herself and their marriage. His bride looked pleased by her warm welcome. Finally, he rose. “I need to go into the cantina and find out if anyone has seen Quinn.”
Reva looked around at his many relatives and whispered, “Do I have to stay here by myself? I’ve never been in a strange place and on my own before.”
“Novia—” Ash caressed her cheek. “—my bride, the only reason I am leaving you at all is the fact Quinn is the best friend I have in the world. And you love your Miss Dorritt. Quinn and your lady would do the same for us.”
“I’m sorry. I know you have to do what you have to do.” She rose and rested her head upon his chest.
He stroked her back and kissed her forehead. “If I don’t come right back, don’t worry. You’re family here. Just take care of the cattle and get to know my cousins.”
She nodded. “I’ll do what you say.”
Ash’s aunt said, “We take good care tu novia, Ash.”
Outside, Ash swung back up into his saddle and headed into San Antonio to the cantina. Back in the plaza, he noted the wagon train had moved to the far end of town to set up camp. He tied up his horse and sauntered into the cantina to make his inquiries. When he walked inside, the first person he saw was Eduardo.
“I go San Antonio. I see baile en la plaza mayor,” Alandra chattered on.
Dorritt sat with the little girl in the shady courtyard of the hacienda in the warm afternoon. In this pleasant setting in the company of this cheerful child, most of her fear and doubt had ebbed. But some still lingered like a low fever. Had she really been kidnapped and brought here? Why? When could she ask Don Carlos what this all meant?
“Señorita?” the little girl prompted.
Dorritt smiled and stroked Alandra’s black silky hair. How could Don Carlos mean her ill and yet leave his sister, this delightful child, in her company? “What is a baile?”
“It is dance. The señoras—” Alandra pantomimed sitting on a bench “—on los bancos. La música starts, señoritas choose the caballeros.” Again, Alandra pantomimed the choosing of partners.
“The women do the choosing?” Dorritt remembered the many times at New Orleans balls where she’d usually sat watching the other young women dance. If it had been her choice to make, would she have sat out the dances? Or would she have approached one of the men and let him lead her to the floor?
Quinn’s face popped into her mind. Its effect on her was like being caught up in a strong wind. She imagined herself in Quinn’s arms and he was leading her into a waltz. The feeling expanded inside her, forcing her to face how much she missed the quiet and trustworthy man.
“Sí,” Alandra said with a twirl, “afterward the gentlemen take señoritas where there are los pasteles, sweetbreads, and café. When I am old, I go to bailes. And dance the fandango. Like this.” The little girl struck a pose, one arm curved over her head the other arched in front of her as she leaned her head back.
Dorritt had seen the fandango danced in New Orleans. She smiled and clapped her hands. “I’m sure you will be a lovely dancer.”
Over the past hours, Dorritt had spent a lot of time wit
h Alandra. Yet since morning, she had seen little of Carlos. Not for the first time, she wondered if this was on purpose.
Alandra began dancing nearby and clapping her hands and clicking her heels. Dorritt watched with pleasure. Her brain, however, kept working. If Don Carlos finally spoke with her, what would she say to him? Why have you brought me here? When can I go back to my family? The possible answers to those questions still haunted her.
Alandra tugged Dorritt’s hand and said, “Dance with me?” Dorritt laughed and rose, clapping her hands over her head too. This shady fragrant courtyard and Alandra didn’t fit with a man who would have her kidnapped. If Don Carlos was a caballero, a gentleman, why had he ordered her taken by force? The code of honor among the Creoles was as strict as the American’s and not lightly broken. No young señorita was ever allowed out without an older lady chaperone. To steal a maiden from her family would not even be considered by a Creole gentleman. So why had Don Carlos ordered her kidnapped? Had he? She’d been terrified for two days and then upon arriving here, welcomed and pampered. Dear Father, why am I here? How can this be part of your plan?
Alandra called out with sudden excitement, “¡Mi hermano! I show Señorita Dorritt how we make fun in Texas. I tell about bailes and dance.”
“¡Excelente!” Don Carlos bent over Dorritt’s hand. Then he swung Alandra up into his arms. “The heat of the day is past and I have been neglecting you dreadfully. I was wondering if you charming señoritas would like to put on your riding habits and go for a ride with me.”
Dorritt’s nerves tightened. So now they might talk? Had the time come for her to find out why she had been brought here? She faced him, drawing her courage close around her. “If Alandra would like to, I would.”
“Sí, sí, I want to ride mi poni. Señorita Dorritt, I name her Pimienta, Pepper. She has vivacidad.”
“Sí, she has spirit,” Don Carlos agreed.
Dorritt smiled though her neck tightened. “I must meet Pimienta then.” She offered her hand to Alandra. “Come let us put our habits on.” She did not bother to question Carlos about whether or not she had a riding habit. If he had asked her to don one, then she would find one on the bed in her room.
As she and Alandra walked into the house to dress, she promised herself if Don Carlos did not tell her of his own accord, she would ask him to tell her why he wanted her here. I will face the truth—with you beside me, Father.
Ash looked over the crowded cantina, willing his anger to cool. Eduardo sitting there as innocent as a babe galled Ash. He wanted to grab Eduardo by the throat and choke him until he told him where Quinn and Dorritt had been taken, but Ash couldn’t act rashly. While Eduardo could be well known here with many friends, after years away in the north, Ash was little known. At the bar, Ash ordered his ale and kept his back to Eduardo.
“Is that you, Ash?” Eduardo’s voice hailed him in Spanish.
Ash slowly turned, still resting one elbow on the bar. “Eduardo, we meet again.”
“Sí, where is your friend Quinn?” Eduardo taunted.
So Eduardo wanted attention, wanted Ash to ask him about Quinn. “You saw him last, didn’t you?”
Eduardo laughed. “Sí, I did. Do you want to know where I left him?”
Ash gazed at Eduardo. What was the man up to? Did he think he wouldn’t have to answer for what he had done? Ash answered smoothly, but with iron in his heart, “Quinn can take care of himself. Wherever you left him, he’ll find you. If I were you, I would watch myself. Quinn does not take a joke very well.”
“Ah, you think I play a joke on Quinn. No, I took him because he was interfering with my cousin Don Carlos Sandoval’s plans for a certain young Anglo woman. Mi primo, you know, always gets what he wants.”
“Sandoval is your cousin?” Ash’s jaw tightened in surprise.
“Sí, he is Don Carlos Benito Jose Sandoval de Rancho Sandoval.”
Ash had of course heard the name Sandoval, a wealthy dueño. He sipped his ale. “So you are the cousin of Sandoval?”
“Yes, my cousin grows lonely on his rancho and wanted some feminine compañía.” Eduardo leered at Ash.
Counting to ten silently, Ash took a long drink of his ale. He did not want to talk any more with Eduardo. At least not here and in front of everyone.
“How is your bride, Ash? Or have you lost her already?”
Ash raised one eyebrow. “I think Eduardo you’ve had too much to drink. My bride is safely where I left her with my family.”
“And where is her mistress, Señorita Dorritt? Or should I ask who is she with?” Eduardo chuckled in a nasty way. “The pretty Señorita Dorritt seems to be exactly what my cousin was looking for. Such lovely white skin and long golden hair. I am sure they are getting along very well together at his rancho.” Eduardo’s voice was thick with innuendo.
Ash left without a word. Heading back to Reva, he wondered why Eduardo was making trouble for his cousin, a wealthy and powerful man. What game was the man playing and why?
In the late afternoon sunlight, Dorritt rode sidesaddle beside Carlos. Alandra bounced along on her little pony Pimiento just in front of them. Dorritt wore a hat with a rakishly tilted brim and a well-made black riding habit that was just like the other clothing. Had Carlos been married? Were these the clothing of his late wife? The possibility pained Dorritt. When would she have a moment to question him—away from little ears?
She gazed over the vast and striking savannah of Rancho Sandoval. When she’d arrived, she had been exhausted and terrified and it had been twilight, the shadows concealing the rancho and its setting. But now everywhere she saw signs of a well-managed ranch. Outbuildings and fences in good order. Peons living in neat jacales. A large paddock of fine-looking horses. Indeed, the horse she was riding was a sleek white Arabian. In New Orleans, she’d always been mounted on the horse nobody else wanted to ride.
Then they began climbing up a gentle slope to the highest ground. When they stopped, she gasped. The sight of the acres and acres of savannah with thickets of mesquite and cottonwoods in all directions took her breath away. A large scattered herd of Longhorns dotted the grassland. And in the distance, sleek pronghorn antelope leaped over the rust-colored foliage—fleet and elegant. Once again, she couldn’t hide her reaction. “It’s beautiful.”
Don Carlos turned to her with a bright smile. “Sí, it is beautiful. And it is mine. My rancho is many acres—over seven thousand.”
She gasped silently again. Rancho Sandoval was vaster than she’d guessed. And this man who had masqueraded as a humble vaquero was its master. She wondered how she had overlooked all the hints that he was a caballero. His manners, his excellent English, the confidence that was a part of him.
“Alandra,” he said, “why don’t you see if you can find some pretty rocks to take home? Give me your pony’s reins to hold for you.”
The little girl eagerly slipped from her pony and handed her big brother the reins. She began wandering away, looking down at stones. Dorritt stiffened her nerve, ready now to ask why—
But Don Carlos spoke first. “Señorita Dorritt, I was very, very surprised when Pedro brought you here. Shocked, in fact. Do you believe that?”
Dorritt looked quickly toward him. “Yes, yes I do. You looked as surprised as I felt.” Was he going to explain without her having to ask?
Don Carlos drew in a deep breath as if he had been holding it. “I was so shocked at first I did not know what to do except make you welcome and see to your comfort and safety.”
She heard in his voice the absolute sincerity, which, after all, had shown to be true. She’d been treated as an honored guest, not a prisoner here. Now she also grasped why during the past hours, Carlos had stayed away from her. He had been confused about how to handle the situation. “Carlos…Don Carlos, you and everyone in your household and your sister have made me very welcome.” But she must face the truth and ask for it. “I know you were surprised when Pedro brought me. But I know he works for you. Why did Pedro
bring me here—if you had not ordered him to do so?”
Don Carlos’s face changed. His mouth pulled back as if ready to snarl. “I questioned Pedro and he just did what he was told to by Eduardo, even if he didn’t like it. I thought I’d left you safely guarded.”
“You told the other vaqueros to protect me?” she said.
“Yes, this is the wilderness and there are so many dangers.” Don Carlos’s face hardened. “But you could not have been in such danger that you needed to be brought here. They frightened you and put you in danger for no reason.” Don Carlos’s voice hardened. “I have been wondering also how Eduardo got you away without Quinn or Ash noticing.”
“I wondered that myself. But the night I was taken, Ash married Reva and bought her freedom. They were distracted and Ash might not have known until morning.” She worried her lower lip, trying not to feel the pain of abandonment. “You don’t think something has happened to Ash and Quinn, do you?”
“I do not know what to think.” Don Carlos threw up a hand as if defeated. “Quinn is wary and wise of the ways of the frontier. I know he would have protected you with his life. Since he didn’t, does that mean Quinn must have been…?”
Hurt? Disabled? Killed? Dorritt’s heart squeezed painfully. “None of this makes sense….”
“Can you give me any idea of why my cousin Eduardo might for some reason think you were in danger? What else happened after I left to come home for Alandra’s birthday?”
“That’s why you left us?”
“Yes, I had promised her I would be home for her birthday. But we were delayed with the wagon train.”
Dorritt nodded. A big brother hurrying home for his little sister’s birthday. She should not be surprised. It was obvious here and now he loved this little girl. “Nothing much happened till we came to a Caddo village. A troop of Mexican soldiers rode in and burned it.” Dorritt swallowed, suddenly emotional at the memory of the screaming of the women and children.
