by Lyn Cote
She smiled and then leaned forward for another kiss.
He claimed her mouth with his and dug his fingers into her black heavy hair. Everything about her stirred him. And he knew he would never forget this night, their wedding night.
Two days had passed since they had returned to Rancho Sandoval. Scully and his bride stood outside the big double doors. This morning he was going to ride around to pick up any stray longhorns, in order to start their herd again. He found himself smiling.
He couldn’t remember a happier time in his whole life. Alandra and he had decided to set up housekeeping here in the hacienda, even though they might be forced to leave it sometime in the future.
He leaned down and kissed her, and when he tried to pull away, she tugged him back and kissed him again. “I have work to do today, woman,” he growled, and nuzzled her neck.
She laughed and tugged down his hat brim. “I have work to do today too, cowboy.”
He finished the kiss, then swung up onto his saddle and gathered his reins while his restless horse pranced. The horse needed a good run today. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” And he meant it. He waved to Alandra and galloped away. He didn’t know if the fact that Texas was now independent of Mexico would have any effect on land titles or not.
He and his wife had decided that if they were forced to leave, they would return to the Quinn ranch, where he would work and save so they could buy their own land and start a ranch nearby. My wife. He liked saying those words. My wife. After years of being alone, he had a wife.
Alandra kept her eye on Scully as he rode away. She would go inside soon and sweep the courtyard, then take a walk through the fields that had been planted with corn. Thank heavens her people had gone ahead and done the planting while she was gone. She hoped that the cornfields might bring some workers back.
Then she saw something large on the horizon, moving toward her. Scully had stopped and was also staring. It was a crowd of people in wagons and horseback. Scully turned, spurring his horse back until he reached her. He swung down from the saddle, tied up his horse, and took her hand.
“Who is it?” she asked, worried.
“Our friends.”
“Oh.” Alandra tried to take it all in.
Then her vaqueros rode up and, as if it were a rodeo, sprang with style from their horses. They exclaimed their joy at seeing her again and greeted Scully with smiles, back-slapping, and repeated shouts of “Felicitaciones!”
Then came the Quinns, Ash and Reva and their son, and Ramirez and his son Emilio on horseback. And several covered wagons driven by more of Alandra’s people. She gripped Scully’s arm tighter, her face growing wide with excitement.
When everyone had reached them, there was a time of confusion, hugging and kissing and shouting with joy. Finally, they all quieted and looked to Scully and Alandra. He sensed that they were expecting them to say something. He looked to Alandra, letting her know he wanted her to do the talking.
She smiled and spread her arms wide. “Amigos! Friends! How wonderful to see all of you. My husband Scully and I did not know what to think when we found the hacienda empty and everyone gone. What took place here?”
Ramirez moved to stand near her. “After Señora Quinn left to go rescue you, Antonio, Emilio, and I decided that we needed to do more to protect your interests, doña. So Antonio and Emilio and the other vaqueros drove most of your cattle onto Señor Quinn’s land.”
Scully nodded. That made sense. Alandra called out her thanks to the two young men.
Ramirez continued, “Then several days after you left, your relatives returned. I would not let them enter the hacienda. They were very angry. They ordered their outriders to force me to back down. But, doña, your vaqueros outnumbered them and we stopped them from entering.”
Her housekeeper Maria spoke up. “We were certain they wanted to steal all your fine furniture.” She made an angry sound and shook her fist.
Ramirez nodded. “They said that they would go to San Antonio and bring soldiers back with them and take what was theirs.”
Antonio, Ash’s son, took over the story then. He grinned. “I said to Ramirez, they can’t steal what they can’t find.”
Everyone grinned and nodded.
“So we stole everything first,” Ramirez’s son Emilio crowed, “and took it to Señor Quinn’s!”
Alandra shouted with laughter. And then the men driving the wagons jumped down and drew back the canvas cover to reveal the dark wood and leather and wrought-iron furniture from the hacienda.
“Gracias, gracias, mis amigos,” Alandra repeated again and again.
The three Quinns came to stand with Scully and Alandra. Scully put his arm around his wife and beamed at her loyal people. Alandra was weeping, but smiling. Then she stepped forward and held up her hands. Everyone quieted and drew nearer to hear what she had to say.
“Amigos and amigas, your faithfulness to me and my family have moved me deeply. Mil gracias, a thousand times thank you.” She paused as if controlling her emotions.
She looked up and went on. “Texas is free now. When this rebellion first started, I was too wrapped up in what was happening here to think about what was at stake in this revolution. But now, after traveling with the Texas Army and meeting General Sam Houston, I have come to understand what it means, what it brings to us, all of us.”
Scully noticed that no one spoke, not even the small children. Around a hundred people were giving his wife their complete attention.
“Your families came out of Mexico City with my parents. You came to herd our cattle and till our land and serve us. My late brother”—almost everyone crossed themselves, showing respect—“taught me to deal with our peons the way my parents had, with honesty and fairness.”
Many made sounds of agreement and nodded.
“But Texas is now free, and that means that you are free too. You have always worked, and we have made certain that everyone had food, clothing, and a roof to call their own. We have even paid you in silver each year so you could buy some of what you needed for your families. But you have never owned the land. And you would never be able to own land because you would never have enough money to do that.”
The crowd of people were quiet now, frozen.
“I own over seven thousand acres of land. Today, I vow that to each family that came from Mexico City with my family, I will give the legal deed to one labor of land.”
There were gasps around them. A labor was 177 acres. Women put their hands over their mouths, and most of the listeners had tears spring to their eyes.
“Texas is a free land with free people in it. I will still employ you, but you will also have your own land to do with as you wish. I will situate the lands so that they lie along the eastern boundary of my land, near enough for you to come and go. The Quinns and the Falconers”—Alandra looked to Scully—“will discuss how this will be done in the best way—”
Many of the peons dropped to their knees. Some appeared dazed, their startled expressions filled with gratitude and yearning. The sight moved Scully in a way he hadn’t thought possible.
“Please do not kneel,” Alandra implored them, gesturing with her hands for them to rise. “Please! Por favor! You should kneel only to God. I am only a woman.”
“You are our lady,” Maria declared. “And more.” She began weeping then, wiping her eyes with her rebozo, as the people kneeling before them slowly rose.
Alandra held her arms wide. “You are my friends. Your actions to protect me and my belongings speak of friendship. I hope that will never end. But I do not want to keep you here if you wish to go and prosper elsewhere.
“And one more thing that must change is that your children must learn to speak English and also how to read it. Texas will now be an Anglo country. And the language will be English. You have become citizens of Texas. Tía Dorritt taught me English and taught me about how a democracy works. You must learn this also. And I will teach your children and then they can teach you
, their parents, and later their own children.”
Alandra paused and looked from face to face. “Santa Anna had more men, more cannon, more weapons, more arrogance than the Anglos. But I saw what happens to a dictator when free men take up arms to fight tyranny. The Anglos were men fighting for their land, their families, and for their rights as free men. Santa Anna lost. Sam Houston and his army of free men won.”
Scully’s throat began to thicken and his heart beat faster with each word his wife spoke. He hadn’t thought of it that way. He had just wanted to defeat the dictator who thought he could slaughter hundreds and go on doing that scot-free. But now his wife made him see what he had actually been fighting for and why so many Americans had come to Texas to fight.
“I know that the Anglos think they are better than Mexicans,” Alandra said as she lifted her chin. “Better than us. Better than Quinn because his mother was Indian. My father’s family opposed my father marrying my mother because she was a mestiza, half Indian. That is how Rancho Sandoval came to be.”
His wife looked from face to face. “The Anglos are not better than us. But we can learn from them. We can learn how to be free. And we can make certain that our children learn that too. Shall we?” she asked. “Shall we be free?”
The vaqueros shouted, “Sí! Sí!” And the men and women exclaimed, “Si! Si! Viva la liberación! Viva nuestra doña!”
Scully couldn’t stop himself. He pulled his wife into a hug and shouted his approval too. Then he whispered into her ear, “I married one fine woman all right.”
She turned and kissed him.
Epilogue
Later that year when the days were growing shorter, a courier rode up to the double doors of Rancho Sandoval. He was allowed to enter, and found Alandra sitting in the courtyard by the warmth of the clay fireplace. He gave her the letter he had brought from San Antonio. She offered him refreshment. With a bow of thanks, he went to the kitchen to eat.
She took the thick letter wrapped in parchment to her office, slit under the wax seal, and began reading:
August 10, 1836
Mexico City
My granddaughter Alandra,
I am your father’s mother. I have been trying to communicate with you since my son Benito and my grandson left Mexico City much earlier this year. But the rebellion made it impossible for me to do this. I finally made a visit to the American ambassador, a dreadful man, but he has promised that he will forward my letter to New Orleans and that in time it will be delivered to you.
The document that Benito is going to use to try to take your land is outdated. I have enclosed here a copy of the final will of my late husband. You will see that he renounced his claim to Rancho Sandoval in your favor. He regretted disowning our eldest son and forcing him to sign that awful document under duress.
Our son Benito has been a disappointment. You see we sent our best son away and kept the good-for-nothing one. Before his death, my husband wanted to right the old wrong. And so he drew up this document which I have put before the courts here.
I was shocked that Benito would try to deceive and rob his own flesh and blood. Though after watching him cheat and steal his whole life, I do not know why it should have surprised me.
Hold the copy of this document. If anyone from Mexico disputes your claim to your land, take this copy with you. It proves that you, as the child of our beloved son, are the rightful heir to Rancho Sandoval in Texas.
I am very sorry that we have never met and will not meet in this life. I am a very old woman and spend my days sitting in my courtyard thinking of what might have been. Do not live your youth like that. Be generous. Love freely. Do what is right in the eyes of God and you will not suffer the same fate.
Your grandmother,
Alicia Maria Alandra Sandoval
Alandra looked over the enclosed document. She heard footsteps, and then her husband sat down beside her. “I heard a courier has come.”
She nodded and read him the letter. Scully shook his head. Alandra leaned her head on his shoulder. “Is everything ready for our trip tomorrow?” Dorritt would be giving birth any day now, and Alandra wanted to be there for the event.
Scully laid his hand on her abdomen. “You’re up to traveling?”
She smiled and laid her hand over his. “I am well. Do not worry about our little one. He is fine.”
Scully kissed her, and she let his lips play over hers. So much sadness and danger this year and now so much happiness. Be generous. Love freely. Do what is right in the eyes of God. Her grandmother’s advice was so close to Tía Dorritt’s:
The Lord knoweth the days of the upright: and their inheritance shall be for ever.
Historical Note
Researching the Texas revolution proved to be an eye-opener for me. I had of course heard about the Alamo, where two of the giants of the American frontier—Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie—gave their lives. But I had never really grasped what was at stake in the realm of the advance of human rights. The revolution of course was sparked by an extreme culture clash. The Americans who settled in Texas believed that they were free men with God-given inalienable rights.This was something which the Mexicans did not understand because of the Spanish colonial system and the lack of any democratic practice in Spanish or Mexican society.
Into this clash came the infamous Santa Anna, who actually said everything I included in his exchange with Sam Houston. This self-proclaimed Napoleon of the West spent the rest of his life trying to disavow the massacre he ordered at Goliad. Sam Houston, for all his foibles, did not suffer such delusions. He managed to pull off a monumental coup with his victory at the Battle of San Jacinto. In this battle, which only lasted eighteen minutes, Mexico lost Texas, and in the end, all of the Southwest.
Now to own up to the two historic events I took dramatic license with in this story. Did you notice them? First, I allowed Señor Veramendi to remain alive to help expedite Alandra’s marriage to Scully. My sources weren’t conclusive whether Veramendi died with his daughter of cholera a few years before 1836. However, dramatically having a Tejano with a daughter who had married Jim Bowie, an angloamericano, added more meaning and depth to the scene. Secondly, of course, the massacre at Goliad did not take place the very next day after the Texians surrendered to General Urrea. That took place on Palm Sunday, 1836. Again, I am very careful of history, but I am writing fiction; and bending history to increase drama is permissible. And General Urrea did not want to follow Santa Anna’s orders, but felt compelled to obey the top general and dictator.
The next book in this series will focus on Carson Quinn and the unlikely woman he falls in love with and Sugar’s history will be uncovered. If you’ve enjoyed these books, please drop by my Web site www.LynCote.net or drop me an e-mail at [email protected].
Discussion Questions
Do you think it was different personalities or cultural differences that put Alandra and Scully at odds in the beginning of the story? Why?
How had Dorritt and Quinn influenced the way Alandra viewed life?
When did you realize that Scully had a deep faith in God?
This story says a lot about greed and revenge. What does God say will happen to those who pursue these? Were you surprised about Mendoza’s end?
What or who had shaped Scully’s faith in God?
The hymn “Amazing Grace” was special to Scully. Is there any hymn that is special to you? Why?
Alandra thinks she knows what her adult life will be. But history intervenes and changes her life. Have you experienced this? What events, and how did it change the direction of your life?
At fourteen Carson had to grow up fast to face a war. How do you think this will influence his future?
What did you think of Alandra’s grandmother’s advice?
What do you think Sugar’s story is? What happened to her to leave her abandoned and afraid?
Acknowledgments
Thanks to the librarians at the San Antonio Public Library who helped me with the
battles of Goliad and San Jacinto.
About the Author
An award-winning author of both contemporary and historical inspirational romance, LYN COTE is an active member of RWA and the American Christian Fiction Writers. A 2006 RITA Award finalist for Best Inspirational, as well as a finalist for the Holt Medallion and the National Readers Choice Contest, Lyn lives with her husband in Wisconsin.
www.LynCote.net
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By Lyn Cote
HER INHERITANCE FOREVER
THE DESIRES OF HER HEART
BLESSED ASSURANCE
Credits
Cover design by Mumtaz Mustafa
Cover illustration by Ricky Mujica
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
HER INHERITANCE FOREVER. Copyright © 2009 by Lyn Cote. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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