Mariah watched a different man enter the ring and approach the rearing horse.
“Do you have plans for the day, ma’am?”
“I’d like to have Mrs. Yates give me a tour of the ranch.”
“If you don’t want to walk, I’ll drive you down in the wagon.”
Mariah had planned to walk the half mile there but a ride suited her just fine.
On the drive, he asked, “So what’s it like living in Philadelphia?”
“Compared to here, much louder. More hustle and bustle, too. Where are you from?”
“Houston, Texas.”
“You’re a long way from home.”
“That I am.”
“Family?”
“Mother and father. Three brothers. Two sisters.”
“Do you miss them?”
“I do. Hoping to go back one day, but for now, I’m enjoying making my own way on my own place.”
“Is it nearby?”
“About five miles west. Logan and I are in business together.”
“I thought you worked for him.”
“He thinks so, too, sometimes, but we’re partners. We make a trip to Montana a few times a year to bring back mustangs.”
“Do you have a wife, children?”
“Not yet.”
“Sounds like you have someone in mind.”
“I do, but trying to convince her is like trying to put a saddle on one of those wild horses.”
“What’s her name?”
“Naomi Pearl.”
“Pretty name.”
“Be prettier if it was Naomi Braden.”
Mariah smiled. “Then I wish you luck.”
“Thanks.”
When they reached their destination, he offered her a hand to help her down and she thanked him.
He replied, “Anytime.”
“May I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“I’d like to learn to ride, do you think you might have time to teach me?”
He paused. “Not much call for being on horseback in Philadelphia I take it?”
“No. I can neither ride nor drive.”
“Let me talk with Logan first. He might think it’s his responsibility, and I don’t want to step on his toes.”
Rather than tell him about the discussion they’d had, she replied simply. “I understand. Thanks again for the ride.”
Watching him drive off, Mariah thought, What a nice man. Too bad his partner lacked such an easygoing manner.
Chapter 8
When Bonnie let her in, Mariah found that Mrs. Yates had just returned from town. In response to Mariah’s request, she smiled. “I’d love to give you a tour.”
They set out in Alanza’s buggy. Mariah watched the way she handled the reins and wanted to ask if she’d give her driving lessons, but she already felt as if she were overstepping her place by having her conduct the tour. She’d just wait and work it out with Logan.
First off, she was introduced to Mrs. Lupe Gutierrez and her chickens, and told what time was best to come for eggs.
“Early morning, just after the sun gets up is best,” Lupe told her.
“I’ll remember that.”
She also met her husband, Hector, who was Mrs. Yates’s driver. He in turn introduced their three young sons: Marco, Eduardo, and Juan. Mariah noticed a small cabin near the coops and wondered if the family lived there.
After she and Mrs. Yates thanked the family and continued their journey, she asked about the little cabin.
“Yes, that is their home. Some of the other employees live on our rancho as well. The father of Mrs. Gutierrez’s grandfather worked for my parents. When her Hector lost his job after the railroad was completed, I hired them both. In the old days, rancho owners always took care of the people they employed, and I am carrying on that tradition.”
Mariah found that very charitable.
“My Logan complains sometimes, and says I have more workers than there is work to do, but I am responsible for them and their children.”
Their next stop was the orchards. Mariah marveled over the trees of oranges and lemons and the glorious scent in the air. “I knew lemons grew on trees but had no idea where.”
“Christopher Columbus brought seeds with him on his voyage to Hispaniola, and they were spread by the Spanish who followed him.”
“The lemonade last night was the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“Why thank you.”
Mariah noticed children stuffing handfuls of leaves from the trees into burlap sacks. “Do you burn the leaves after the fruit’s harvested?”
“No, we steep them for tea, it’s very good for coughs. We use nearly all parts of the lemon here. We make the tea. We use the oil from the peel on our wood floors, and a halved lemon dipped in a bit of salt makes copper pots gleam like the sun.”
Mariah was impressed.
Leaving the orchard behind, Alanza stopped the wagon for a moment so Mariah could see the grapevines.
“We’ve only had these vines a few years,” she explained. “It will take many more before they bear enough fruit to sell and make a profit.”
Mariah assumed grapes grew as easily as apples or pears.
“I would love to have these vines produce like the ones once owned by La Beate.”
Alanza apparently saw the confusion on Mariah’s face. “She was the daughter of one of the old Spanish families. Her true name was Apolinaria Lorenzana.”
“She grew grapes?” Mariah asked, still confused.
“Yes, in fact she planted the famous grapevine of Montecito. In her time it was the largest vine in the world, and produced six thousand clusters of fruit in one growing season.”
Mariah’s jaw dropped. While she picked it up, Alanza told her the story of how Apolinaria turned her life over to teaching and charity after the death of her lover, and that many of the old families thought she should have been made a saint after her death.
“So what does La Beate mean?”
“To whom all doors are open and to whom all sorrows are brought.”
Mariah found that very moving.
“Come, let me show you the rest of your new home.”
They paused to view the field where the vegetables were grown and then moved on to the storage barns. Alanza led her inside one and showed her where the rows and rows of put-up vegetables and fruits were stacked. “Feel free to take what you need when you need it. Everything is replenished at harvest time.”
“What does your son like to eat?”
“That is a question you should ask him, but I will tell you that he loves apple pie and large steaks.”
Another barn held all the fabrics Logan mentioned and by Mariah’s visual estimation, there were enough bolts to supply her mother’s dress shop for years. “There’s quite a lot here.”
“I keep telling Noah not to bring any more home, but I believe he’s deaf. I know you sew, so please help yourself to as much of it as you like.”
“Do you sell any of it?”
“I do. Some goes to the dressmaker in town, and to others in Sacramento, but the more I sell the more my son seems to bring back.”
“May I take a peek?”
“Certainly.”
Mariah tore off a tiny corner of the heavy brown paper some of the bolts were wrapped in and found silks and cotton of all colors. There were also serges and fine Egyptian linens. One bolt held mattress ticking and another heavy blue denim. There had to be at least one hundred different bolts of various kinds and weights. She was in seamstress heaven and couldn’t wait for the arrival of her sewing machine.
A further walk through the huge barn revealed farming implements like shovels and hoes. There were saddles and bridles, bed frames, and an old trunk filled with bags of down for pillows and duvets. Upon seeing that, she gave Alanza a questioning look.
“I’ve no idea where Noah got those, but feel free to use them as well.”
Mariah was in a state of wonder. “Why di
dn’t Logan use this barn to store all the items after the bunkhouse burned down?”
“We’re on the western edge of the rancho. He deemed this location too far away.”
“I see.”
“I didn’t agree, but arguing with him is useless at times, as you yourself know.”
“I do.”
She saw Alanza watching her closely so she felt compelled to say, “We had a slight disagreement this morning before he left.”
“You’re both very strong willed, so you’ll need to learn to compromise.”
“I know that, but does he?”
Alanza gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. “It will get better, chica, but stick to your guns.”
As they got back on the wagon and Alanza picked up the reins, Mariah glanced over. “Logan said you were born here?”
“I was. In fact, the room where you slept last night was mine while growing up. My grandfather’s original land grant covered about fifteen thousand acres.”
“My goodness.”
“Sounds like a lot, but ours was one of the smaller grants. Back then there were families who claimed up to fifty thousand acres. Most raised sheep and cattle, which were sold for tallow and hides. Not until the Americans came did the old families realize the cows could also be sold for the beef.”
“Things changed after the Americans came.”
“Very much. We lost our land and our way of life. In many ways our decline mirrored the decline the Spanish brought upon the native peoples.”
As Mariah listened, Alanza explained how the coastal Indians of California were forced to build the Spanish missions in the early years.
“Many thousands succumbed to disease. Those that did survive were made to give up their tribal language, customs, and beliefs.”
“Sounds a bit like slavery.”
Alanza eyed her for such a long time, Mariah thought she might have offended her, but she finally said, “I suppose it could be looked at that way.”
“I wasn’t trying to offend you, Mrs. Yates.”
“I understand, dear. I just never thought about it in those terms before. The Jesuits and the monks converted the Indians to Catholics to save their souls.”
“I see.” But in reality she didn’t. Deciding she needed to change the subject, she asked, “I don’t know how to cook the dishes that are eaten here. Do you think Bonnie or Mrs. Gutierrez can teach me?”
“Yes they can and I applaud you for wanting to learn. Might help if you spoke a bit of Spanish as well.”
“Does Logan speak Spanish?”
“As if he were born in Spain. His brothers speak the language as well.”
“Where do your other sons live?”
“Andrew Antonio divides his time between Sacramento and Yerba Buena.”
“And that is?”
“What the Americans now call San Francisco.”
“Oh.”
“My youngest, Noah, is on a sea voyage. They’ll all be here later in the summer to help celebrate my birthday. You will like them, and because you’ve given Logan fits, they’ll like you as well.”
“I look forward to meeting them.”
“Good. Now, let us return to my house and have something to eat and then I’ll take you back to Logan’s.”
After eating, Mariah was taken back to Logan’s as promised. She looked up at Alanza seated on the wagon and was glad to have spent the time in her company. “Thank you for showing me around, I appreciate it very much. I know my place, so I’ll try not to take up too much of your time in the future.”
Alanza waved her off dismissively. “Place or no place, I’m pleased to have another female here.”
“Thank you, again.”
“You’re welcome.”
Logan was in his study poring over the ranch’s ledgers. Profits from the sale of cattle were down; not enough to negatively impact the family’s life, but if the trend continued he would have to seriously consider throwing in with a new distributor who offered more than he was presently receiving through the efforts of Jim Deeb. He glanced around at his study. It was the only room in the house that hadn’t been buried beneath the clutter after the bunkhouse fire because he couldn’t run the business if he couldn’t get to the ledgers and accounts to pay the bills. He wondered if his hellion housekeeper had plans for his study on her long list of improvements. He certainly hoped not, because he liked the space the way it was. He knew where everything was and he had his magazines, like American Farmer and Popular Mechanics in the bookcase right where he wanted them to be. According to Eli, she and Alanza were out touring the ranch. Alanza seemed to enjoy her company and that pleased him. On the other hand, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t rid himself of last night’s dream. All day, the moment he let down his guard, remembrances of her bared breasts in the moonlight and the feel of her tight sheath sheltering his flesh would take him over like a bruja’s spell. He didn’t want to remember the sounds of her whispering his name or the tastes and scents of her, but he did.
“Mr. Yates.”
As if by magic she was standing in the doorway, and the spell washed over him once again. “Mrs. Cooper.”
“I just wanted to alert you of my return. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You aren’t disturbing me. Eli said you asked him for driving lessons.”
“I did. I wish to learn and you seemed to take issue with my asking for a pair of gloves.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“You’re welcome.”
He tossed her the pair of work gloves he’d picked out for her earlier. “Put those on and let’s go.”
She went still. “You’re really going to teach me?”
“It’s either that or have you hound me until Christmas.”
“Thank you,” she said excitedly.
Logan tried to deny the way her smile made him feel, but lost that battle as well. He stood. “Shall we?”
Mariah soon learned that driving a buggy wasn’t as simple as it appeared. Especially when the instructor showed no patience. “If you yell at me one more time, I’m going back inside.”
“I’m not yelling.”
“Yes, you are,” she gritted out.
“Then follow instructions. This isn’t that hard!”
“Then be more patient! This is my first lesson, remember.”
He exhaled a heavy sigh.
She wanted to sock him.
“If you’d waited until your hands healed you could hold the reins tighter,” he pointed out for the hundredth time.
She glared his way but kept her mouth shut. Yes, her hands were a bother, but the bigger problem was her lack of strength. She’d not known horses were so strong. Having chopped wood all her life had absolutely no bearing on the strain burning her arms. In truth, she wanted to surrender the reins, but refused to give him the satisfaction.
The horse seemed patient with her ham-handed attempts to guide him up the road at first, but he must’ve grown tired of her, because he decided to go back to the barn.
As a result, Logan yelled—and Mariah yanked and pulled back on the reins, trying to regain control and steer, but the horse was stronger and picking up speed.
“You’re not listening!”
“That’s because you’ve made me deaf!”
The horse’s strides lengthened and the buggy left the road. They were bouncing up and down on the grass. People were stopping to stare. She saw the corrals ahead and knew disaster was imminent. She was doing her best, but no amount of pulling back on the reins halted the flight until Logan reached over, took the reins and quickly brought the episode to a close.
“Are you trying to kill us!”
Mariah wasn’t a cursing woman but at that moment she wished she were. She was furious at him and the stupid horse. She hopped down from the buggy and stalked off. She’d never let him give her lessons in anything again. His patience was smaller than a gnat.
Behind her, he demanded to know, “Where are you goin
g!”
“To find ice for my ears!” Her pride was hurt, her arms ached, and she was past tired of him.
“I told you to wait on your hands. Maybe now you see why.”
Were she a fire-breathing dragon, she would have burned him like a piece of bacon; instead she snapped, “So should I have simpered, ‘My hands hurt, Logan. I don’t wish to learn. Please cart me around for the rest of my life!’ ”
Not waiting for an answer, she resumed walking. She had no inkling as to where she was going, but she had to put some distance between herself and him or explode like Fourth of July fireworks. Arms swinging, her steps measured, her gold eyes blazing, she sailed by the corrals, causing the men, including Eli Braden, to stop what they were doing.
Eli called out, “Are you okay, Mrs. Cooper?”
“I need a battle griffin to fly him away and drop him into the ocean!”
The men shared grins, then turned to look for Logan because they knew he had to be close by. Sure enough, he and the buggy came barreling around the side of the house.
When the buggy reached her, Mariah didn’t slow. “Go away!”
“It’s not my fault you’re so hardheaded.”
She wanted to chop down a tree and knock him over the head with it. “Go away before I hurt you, you insufferable man.”
He had the nerve to laugh.
Seeing a good-sized rock in her path, she picked it up. Aiming high so she wouldn’t hit the horse, she pitched it as hard as she could, and it clunked him right in the center of his forehead.
“Ow!”
Her mouth dropped with surprise—she didn’t think she’d actually strike him.
The ranch hands were holding their breath up until that point, but the stunned look on Logan’s face sent them into fits of howling laughter.
“Dammit, woman!” He touched the spot to see if she’d drawn blood. She had.
Mariah was filled with remorse. “I am oh so sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” he snarled.
“I really, truly am. I didn’t think it would hit you.” She dug her handkerchief out of her skirt pocket and walked over to where he sat fuming. “Here.”
He took the offering and pressed it against the slowly rising lump on his brow.
Destiny's Embrace Page 9
