Destiny's Dawn

by Rosanne Bittner

  Juanita sat next to her father in a wagon seat high enough for them to see over the fence and into the corral. Her heart raced when the one called Tom Sax approached them. He met her eyes only for a moment as he approached. He nodded slightly, sensing the warmth his glance brought to her blood.

  Tom forced himself next to focus his attention on Antonio Galvez, stepping closer. “I can’t do it this way, sir. I didn’t think there would be so many men.” His words were shouted, even though he stood close, for the noise of the betting men surrounding them drowned out his voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “There are too many men—too much noise. I’ll never be able to work with the horse this way.”

  Galvez shrugged. “All you have to do is get on him and ride him.”

  Tom shook his head. “I don’t do it that way.”

  “You are having second thoughts?” Emanuel Hidalgo asked. The man sat on the fence near to Galvez’s wagon. “Perhaps the Indian is not so brave and good with horses after all. Already he thinks of excuses.” He smiled down haughtily at Tom, who moved his dark eyes to Hidalgo.

  “I haven’t changed my mind about anything, Hidalgo. You have already proved you aren’t man enough to master the stallion. So keep out of it.”

  Hidalgo stiffened with embarrassment and rage, and Juanita smiled. “You had better be careful how you talk to me, señor,” Hidalgo warned. “If you stay, you will be working for me!”

  “I will decide who works for whom,” Galvez reminded Emanuel. He moved his eyes back to Tom, while Hidalgo fumed inwardly. “The horse is coming. You have not seen him before this moment, as we agreed. You have forty-eight hours. See what you can do, now that all the men are here. If you see it will not work, come back here and tell me what you wish to do.”

  Tom nodded. “Sí, señor.”

  He turned as two men on horses led the black stallion into the corral, each of them straining to hang on to a rope around the horse’s neck. Men cheered and whistled, and some threw pebbles at the horse, which tossed its head wildly, tugging at the ropes. Someone closed the gate, and the two riders dropped their ropes and rode quickly through an opposite gate. The stallion snorted and whinnied, prancing about in the corral as the crowd of men egged it on with shouts and rocks. It charged a few of them, its eyes wide and wild, scaring the men off the fence, then turning to chase after some more. The men laughed and climbed back on, finding the entire moment a game.

  Tom stepped away from the fence, eyeing the frightened horse as it skittered about. One man reached out and slapped the animal on its rump as though it were an act of bravery. The horse whinnied and bucked, and more men jumped away laughing.

  It was then the horse spotted Tom. Juanita’s heart raced, and the crowd quieted somewhat. Tom carefully bent down and picked up the trailing end of one of the ropes tied around the animal’s neck. He twisted it around his hand, his eyes never leaving the animal.

  “Get on him and ride him down,” one of the men shouted in Spanish.

  Tom seemed not to hear him. He slowly walked toward the horse, which stood its ground, watching him carefully as the crowd quieted somewhat.

  “Caballo valiente,” Tom said softly to him then.

  “He’s not brave, just mean,” someone yelled, refuting Tom’s words “brave horse.”

  A few more men laughed, but Tom only walked closer, speaking then in a language none of them understood. Juanita watched with her hands tight together, her whole body tingling, afraid she would see the handsome Tom Sax trampled to death. Emanuel’s eyes moved from Tom to Juanita. There was no mistaking the look on her face, and he wanted nothing more than to see Tom Sax die beneath the animal’s vicious hooves and teeth.

  The horse snorted and whinnied, tossing its head as Tom came even closer, still speaking softly in Cheyenne. The crowd had quieted even more. Galvez smiled with satisfaction, and Julio Baca’s eyebrows arched as Tom managed to get a position right in front of the horse without the animal’s going after him. He slowly reached out and touched its nose, talking all the while.

  No one could mistake the magic Tom Sax seemed to have with the horse. No one had gotten so close before. Galvez realized that there were certain men gifted in working with such animals, and they were few. This Tom Sax was apparently one of them. He had heard the Plains Indians were especially good with horses, and the surprising stories he had heard were that they tamed their horses by means of what this Tom Sax was doing now, rather than riding them down and whipping them into submission. Could it be true men like Sax shared a special spirit with the animals?

  All was quiet for a moment while Tom petted the animal’s nose. It was then Hidalgo looked across the corral at another man, nodding slightly. The other man slowly handed some firecrackers to a boy behind him who had been paid to set them off if Tom Sax got close to the black stallion.

  A moment later there came the small explosions, startling the men as well as the horse. The black stallion whinnied in renewed fear, raising up on its hind legs. Men were shouting again, and Juanita screamed as Tom remained in front of the horse, backing away just slightly, still talking to it as it pawed at him.

  Tom had to jump back then as the horse came down, but he stayed with the animal, still talking to it, ducking as it came at him with its teeth bared, then reared up again.

  “Tell him to get out of there,” Juanita said to her father.

  Galvez looked at his daughter in surprise, seeing the frightened look on her face.

  “He knows what he is doing,” the man replied, looking back at Tom as he dodged and ran and ducked, still talking to the animal. The men were again shouting and whistling, and it became an impossible task to calm the animal. It reared again, one front hoof crashing down on Tom’s shoulder. The blow threw Tom sideways to the ground, and Juanita screamed and stood up, shouting Tom’s name. She thought the men cruel to just watch and laugh as the horse came down on Tom again. He rolled out of the way, then scrambled to his feet in obvious pain as men pointed and laughed and said he had failed, too.

  Tom stumbled to a wooden inner fence that protected him from the animal and waited, holding his ribs. The men teased and goaded the horse enough to redirect its attention, and Tom walked briskly over to Galvez. Juanita’s heart went out to him as he stood there dirty and panting.

  “It cannot be done this way. I must concentrate. You gave me forty-eight hours, Señor Galvez. Let me take him into the hills, with only you and el señor Baca to watch from a distance so you can witness how I tame him. Within forty-eight hours I will ride him back to Lecho de Rosas myself. He is worth nothing to you the way he is. Tamed, he will be worth much.” He wiped sweat from his brow, rubbing at his ribs.

  “You are injured,” Galvez answered.

  “A bargain is a bargain. I can live with my injuries. Just have someone wrap my ribs.”

  Juanita blinked back tears and Hidalgo boiled with frustration. This was not going as he had planned. Galvez turned to another of his men and asked him to go and get Julio Baca. The horse continued racing around the corral, and Tom stayed close to the fence. Juanita wanted to speak to him, to tell him how brave he was and how sorry she was he had been hurt. She wanted to be the one to help him. But she didn’t dare be so forward. She could do nothing but sit and ache for him as he bent over as though having trouble breathing.

  Julio Baca returned with the messenger, and the men quieted again as the two patróns conversed quietly. Then Galvez rose.

  “Señor Sax has asked that he be allowed to go into the hills with the horse, with only el señor Baca and myself as witnesses, while he trains the horse,” he told the others.

  There followed an outcry of protests. Everyone wanted to watch.

  “The horse will get away and we will never get him back,” Hidalgo fumed. “You cannot release him from the pens.”

  Galvez rose and looked down at the man. “This is the last time I am telling you not to argue my decisions, Emanuel. El señor Baca has agreed.�
� He turned to another man. “Bring us three saddled horses and full gear for a night or two in the hills. And get someone to help el señor Sax into my house. Yolanda, my cook, can tend to him. We must leave soon.”

  “Sí, señor.” The man left, and Emanuel Hidalgo stormed away. Galvez turned to the crowd. “We will be leaving soon. El señor Baca and I will go with the Indian. We are men whose word can be trusted, but for those of you who have bet gold on el señor Sax’s success or failure, you do not need just our word. Señor Sax has said he will return riding the black stallion himself.”

  Some of the men cheered and others laughed and said that would never happen in such a short time. A man came up to Tom, helping him through a gate, while some of the men called him names and said the stallion would finish him off before he ever tamed it. Others spit at the “Indian” for denying them the thrill of watching, while some wished him luck and called him a brave man.

  Juanita was helped down from the wagon, and she hurried along with her father, begging him to let her go to the hills with him.

  “It is no place for a young girl. You will know when we return who has won.”

  “You will not let the horse hurt him, will you?”

  The man scowled at her. “I think perhaps you are too concerned about this Indian, Daughter. You do not even know him.”

  The girl reddened. “I only feel sorry for him. He loves horses, and he was doing well until those awful boys set off the firecrackers. It was unfair.”

  “With that I agree.”

  Tom walked behind the girl, not hearing the conversation but watching the gentle flow of her hips as she walked, enraptured With the lovely blue lace dress and the silken look of the skin of her arms. He had camped in the hills for two days while he waited for Galvez’s messenger to come and tell him the men and horse were ready, so this was only the second time he had set eyes on Doña Juanita Rosanna Galvez de Sonoma.

  He liked the long, melodic name. Everything Spanish seemed beautiful and gentle and honorable. But perhaps in this case too honorable. Never would Antonio Galvez allow his daughter to be courted by an Indian, of that Tom was sure. He was foolish to even think of her in that way, yet perhaps if he could prove his worth as a man and make Galvez stop looking at him as an Indian, he could have a chance. But even then, he was twice Juanita’s age. He had no right thinking of her sexually. She was still just a child. But he wouldn’t mind waiting for her to mature. It would be worth the wait. And after all, it was very common for older, established Spanish men to marry very young girls. It was also a common practice among the Indians.

  Minutes later he found himself standing in the kitchen, shirtless, a stout Mexican woman wrapping his ribs, which on the left side were already turning purple. “This is bad, señor. You should rest.”

  “I can’t. I gave my word, and I’ll not lose this for el señor Galvez.”

  “You are a foolish young man then. And look at your shoulder, all swollen and blue. Can you move your arm all right?”

  Tom flexed it, grimacing in pain. “I can move it.”

  “Sí, with much effort. That horse will kill you, señor. You are too young and handsome for that.”

  Tom grinned, holding his arms up while the woman tied the gauze. “Thank you, señora, or is it señorita?”

  The fat, aging woman laughed, her huge breasts shaking. “Señora for many years,” she answered, blushing. “Sit and rest a moment. They are not yet ready to leave. I am going out to fetch a bucket of water.”

  The woman lumbered out the door and Tom looked around the huge, comfortable kitchen. A wood stove with several burners sat cooling at the moment, and shelves of home-canned foods lined one wall. There was fresh-baked bread on the table. Yes, this was a place of wealth, of fine clothes and full bellies and sweet sunshine. He liked it here more and more.

  It was then his eyes caught sight of a blue lace dress at the doorway. He moved his gaze from the skirt upward, to see a pair of pretty dark eyes peeking around the doorway at him. “Are you all right, señor?” Juanita Galvez asked in her girlish voice.

  Tom grinned. “I am fine, Señorita Galvez. Thank you for asking.”

  She moved farther around the doorway, blushing at the sight of his bare and muscular shoulders and chest. “I am not supposed to be here. But I wanted to tell you you are very brave, and I hope you come back riding the great stallion. I will pray for you.”

  Their eyes held a moment. “Then I’m sure I’ll be successful,” he told her.

  She smiled, and his eyes moved over her in a way that made her tingle. “I . . . I hope you do not think me terribly bold to speak to you alone this way.” She turned around. “I should not even be looking at you without your shirt.”

  Her innocence only made her more enticing. “I don’t think you bold at all. I only think you’re a very nice young lady with a soft heart. It was very gracious of you to come and wish me well.”

  She heard Yolanda returning then. “I must go!” She whirled, and her dress and petticoats made a swishing noise as she hurried out. Yolanda lumbered back inside with a bucket of water. “Do you wish a drink of water, señor?

  “Sí. Gracias.”

  She plunked the bucket down and took a ladle from its hook, dipping it into the bucket and pouring the water into a glass, which she handed to him. “It is good, cold water from a natural spring.”

  Tom took the water. “Tell me something, Yolanda, and promise me you won’t tell anyone I asked.”

  She grinned and giggled. “What is it, señor?”

  “Señorita Galvez. Is she spoken for by that Emanual Hidalgo?”

  The woman frowned. “She is a child. No one has spoken for her, but el señor Hidalgo would like to wed her. Everyone knows it. But she does not like him, and el señor Galvez would never force his daughter to marry a man she did not love.”

  Tom drank some of the water. “What if she loved someone her father would not approve of? Would he let her see the man? Would he put her happiness first?”

  The woman studied him closely, then grinned broadly. “You are talking about yourself?”

  Tom finished the water. “I never said that.”

  “You do not have to say it.” The woman folded flabby arms over her breasts. “It is possible el señor Galvez would consider her happiness first. But he is a very strict man. He wants only the best for his daughter. If a man proved his worth in other ways, her father might approve of him.” She gave him a wink. “I know I would approve if it were my daughter.”

  Tom grinned, trying to ignore the piercing pain in his side and hoping it wasn’t anything dangerous.

  “You be careful, señor. There are rules to follow with the daughters of wealthy Mexicans. You remember that. And you watch out for el señor Hidalgo. If he suspects you have eyes for that young girl, he will do something bad. Already he is jealous that you have been given permission to train the black one. I have been watching him these three days since you came here. He stomps around like a pouting child.”

  She set the bucket over on another counter. “Emanuel Hidalgo has a mean streak. He asked once to see my daughter, Marie. He took her riding, and then he tried to make her submit to him. He hit her and tried to force her. She scratched him and ran away. I think the only reason he did not come after her and force himself on her again was because he feared losing his job. I wanted to complain to el señor Galvez, but Marie begged me not to. She was afraid Emanuel would tell the patrón she is a bad girl. El señor Galvez gets angry with el señor Hidalgo sometimes, but he trusts Hidalgo’s word and Hidalgo is a good foreman. He knows his job well.”

  Tom’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Is your daughter all right?”

  “Sí. She sees another young man now. It is kind of you to ask.”

  Tom looked toward the doorway through which Juanita had fled. “I’m glad Galvez doesn’t allow Hidalgo to court Juanita. If he touched her that way, I’d kill him,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Yolanda’s eyebrows arched.
“Such strong feelings for a man who hardly knows the girl.”

  “I know her well enough to know she’s innocent and trusting—too trusting for a bastard like Hidalgo. The man she marries should be kind and patient.”

  The woman chuckled again. “I see what is running through your mind, señor.” She sobered slightly then. “And why is it a handsome young man like yourself is not already married?”

  Tom’s thoughts turned to Bess. Such a long time ago it was. How could he still picture her so vividly? “I was—once. That was over ten years ago.” He fingered the glass absently. “We were only married six months when she died of cholera. That was in Texas.”

  Yolanda’s eyes actually teared. “I am so sorry, señor.” She reached out and patted his shoulder. “Then you are a lonely man, who should marry again. A new woman and children would help you forget.”

  Tom smiled sadly and rose, putting his shirt back on. The fat Mexican woman made him feel comfortable. She was easy to talk to. “Right now I have a horse to break. I have learned to take life a day at a time, Yolanda. No one knows what tomorrow will bring.” He buttoned his shirt. “But I will tell you one thing. In all these years, this is the first time a young woman has struck me in the way la señorita Galvez has done. I wish I could get to know her better, but that will probably be impossible.” He winced as he tucked in his shut. “Thank you for your quick doctoring.”

  “I am not so good at those things. You should see a real doctor, señor.”

  “I’ll be all right.”

  Antonio Galvez came inside then to tell them everything was ready. Yolanda watched Tom walk out and returned to her work.

  Outside the men mounted up. Two extra men would go along, one who worked for Galvez and one for Baca. Tied to their saddles were the two ropes that were looped around the neck of the black stallion. They got the stallion to follow along after much tugging and whistling, but their own horses balked and whinnied in return. Tom turned, removing a rope from his own horse and throwing it over the stallion’s neck, pulling tight.