Lone Star Bride

by Jolene Navarro

  “That may be so.” The fire was back in the De Zavala’s eyes. “But it is not where you belong.”

  Jackson had faced that glare a few times in the matching eyes of De Zavala’s daughter. This would be an interesting battle of wills. But it wasn’t his problem.

  How to handle the business deal without getting pulled into the family drama would be the trick to seeing his future settled. She hadn’t thought about his future and how her stunt would affect him, so she was on her own now.

  She looked over her shoulder, at him. “Jackson, tell him what I did. Even during the stampede.”

  The dark skin paled. “Stampede? You allowed my daughter to ride into a stampede? The one you said killed Will?”

  “Sir, she is here and unharmed. I have the payment for the cattle and horses. We only lost—”

  “She is not unharmed!” His clinched fist raised, and he pointed at his daughter. “Look at you! You are ruined.”

  “No!” She threw her shoulders back and took a step closer to his accusatory finger as if to challenge him. “I’m not. I’m better than ever. It was amazing and grand and scary and the most incredible adventure. Papi, I loved—”

  “You stand dressed as a boy in a strange place. Your hair is gone, and your skin is as rough and dark as a field worker. No gentleman will marry you now. You. Are. Ruined.” He turned to Jackson. “You ruined my daughter.”

  “No, Papi. You will not blame him. He didn’t even know I was a woman at first. He just now learned I was your daughter. I knew he would send me home the minute he heard my name.”

  The angry father turned to Jackson. “Did you treat her with honor?”

  Jackson tried not to be offended. The man didn’t really know him. “I treat all who work with me with respect. Male or female.”

  “When did you know she was a female?”

  “Papi, what does this have to do with anything? I wanted to prove I was as good as any man and could help you on the ranch as a partner. The way Santiago would have if he still lived.”

  Her father held up one finger. “Do not speak your brother’s name. If he and your mother were here...”

  He didn’t finish the thought, but it was clear to Jackson it hit her hard. For the first time, he saw doubt shadow her expression. She bit her bottom lip, and a shine reflected off the moisture building in her eyes. He wanted to comfort her. But he had to remind himself it wasn’t his problem. She had lied to him.

  “You have been impulsive and irresponsible. Now you will have to suffer the consequences.”

  Taking a step back, she hugged herself. “What consequences?”

  “You say this man treated you with respect even though you didn’t behave as a lady.”

  “I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”

  Ignoring her, De Zavala turned to Jackson. “My daughter has ruined herself, and I understand it is no fault of yours.”

  Some of the tension left his tight muscles, and he released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “I have your cash and the record of sale. Estevan is the only one—”

  The man held his hand up. “We will talk of that later. Now we need to talk of my daughter’s future. I don’t think she understands the depth of scandal if she returns home unmarried.”

  “Papi—”

  “Hush. You are done.”

  She clenched her fist. “I will not marry.”

  Her father spoke over her as if she hadn’t spoken at all.

  “Are you willing to marry my daughter here in San Antonio?”

  “No!” She screamed as if a snake had slipped into her boot.

  De Zavala turned to the door, calm but stiff. “Mr. McCreed, I think it would be better if we spoke somewhere else while my daughter pulls herself together.”

  Addressing Sofia, he continued, “It would be best if you take the time to remember the etiquette your mother taught you. I will send someone up with a meal for you and to make sure you have a proper dress. You will not leave this room until you are presentable again.”

  He opened the door. “Mr. McCreed, you will join me now. There are two options I have for my daughter, and it will be up to you if she stays in Texas or is shipped out of state to live with cousins.”

  “No!” She stood alone in the center of the room. Her father looked at Jackson as if his daughter was not standing a few feet away.

  “With all due respect, sir, I would like to speak with San—Sofia alone. A very short time is all I need. I’ll join you downstairs.”

  Sofia went to the small window with her arms tight around her middle. Her father gave him a stiff nod. “No longer than a bit.”

  He left the door open behind him. The room was heavy with silence.

  Jackson reached out and touched her shoulder, hoping to get her attention. Not only did she turn, but she also crushed herself against his chest and wrapped her arms around his middle. Sobs shook her body. “I’m so sorry.” She took a breath. “Tell him no.” Hiccups jerked her shoulders. “He can’t make you marry me.”

  He caressed her hair. Silky and soft, it slipped through his fingers. He didn’t think she understood the ramifications to her reputation. “You lied to me.”

  “I know, and it’s unforgivable so I won’t even ask for forgiveness, but I want you to know I’m sorry.”

  “We might not have much choice if we want to have a chance at the dreams we both want.”

  Looking at him, confusion clouded her eyes. “I don’t understand. What do you mean? All I want is to work on the ranch with my father, and you want to raise your horses.”

  He nodded, his jaw sore from the tension. “Because of your games, your father has the power to put an end to both of our dreams. He now has all the control.” He wanted to hate her for putting him in this position, but it was just as much his own fault, just like the brutal death of his family.

  Shutting his lids, he closed down that part of his thoughts. He had to stay calm and solve the problem in front of him. “Despite you lying to me, we were friends, right?”

  She nodded against his chest.

  “We talked about you working for me.”

  “But that is different from getting married.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  That got her attention. Moving back, she wiped her face clear of the tears. “What do you mean?”

  “We can treat it like a partnership. I didn’t plan on ever marrying again.”

  “I know. My father can’t force you to marry me. I don’t want a husband.”

  “Good. Because I don’t want a wife. We could just stay friends. Have our own rooms, our own lives.” He shrugged. “It could work if we don’t think of ourselves as married. Just friends, business partners. But I’m not going to let your father force us into this. You have to agree.”

  A half smile found its way to her face, and he lifted her chin. “Business partners? We don’t have to marry. In time, my father will settle down and—”

  A cough at the door made them both turn. Juana Alvarez stood there with a tray of food, which she placed on a stool by the bed. The smile gone, replaced by a fierce commander who had been disobeyed. “I have spoken with her father. You need to leave now Señor McCreed, and you will not be coming back until we have your bride ready for you. I’m a godly woman and do not appreciate the trick you played on her father or me.” She moved to the side and waited for Jackson to leave. “Your father has sent my sons to secure the church and my daughters will fit you for a wedding dress.”

  One step over the threshold, he turned to reassure Sofia, but the door was slammed and the bolt slid into place.

  For a moment he just stood there, not knowing what had just happened. This morning he was looking forward to a good bath, a hot meal and sleeping somewhere other than t
he ground. The new future he’d mapped out was giving him hope and a purpose. He should have known it would end in disaster.

  Now because of his habit of playing Good Samaritan, his life was not his own. He headed to the stairs. She had said her father couldn’t force them, but it appeared he already had set their new wagon in motion and it was heading downhill.

  Gritting his teeth, he knew they were out of options.

  She was naive about going back to the normal life she wanted on the ranch. As for him, her father had the power to make him start all over again.

  Job’s story fluttered across his mind. Why couldn’t he just live in peace? He wasn’t as faithful or understanding as Job had been, so maybe bad things would keep happening to him until he learned some big lesson. He stopped on the narrow steps.

  What is it, God? What do You want from me? You took my family now You’re taking my freedom. Back in motion, he ran his hands along the rough adobe wall. To be fair, it wasn’t God who made the decision to help stranded travelers or take an unknown orphan on a cattle drive.

  He found De Zavala sitting at a large table, eating. He waved Jackson to the chair next to him. “Sit. Sit. We have much to talk about.” He slid a bowl of carne guisada across the table and the basket full of warm tortillas.

  “My daughter has gotten herself in trouble. You are a good man, so you will help me decide. Does she get sent out of state to live far from Texas, or do you marry her and live on the ranch?” He dipped a torn piece of tortilla into his bowl and scooped up a chunk of meat.

  Jackson had lost his appetite. His stomach rebelled at the thought of taking another bride. He had vowed to never marry again. But if there was one thing he knew about Sofia De Zavala, she would wither away if taken out of Texas. She was as much a part of the land as the cypress that dug its roots deep into the rocky riverbed.

  “I hear you already set our nuptials in motion.”

  The man shrugged as if there wasn’t a big drama taking place in their lives. “I figure you or one of the other vaqueros will step in and take the payment I offer. Which Americans returned with you? Any of them good husband material?”

  Okay, that knocked the wind out of his gut. He shook his head. “Just the Irishman. I’m not sure he’s an American citizen. Why an American?” Were they really sitting here having this conversation as if they were talking about the weather?

  “Our new Congress has yet to vote on the status of the old Spanish land grants. The man who marries my daughter would receive that grant to ensure it stayed with the family.”

  “The whole ranch?”

  “It’s all very complicated. But we are in uncertain times, and no decision has been made yet. I do not want to lose my legacy. The land needs to stay in my family, and Sofia is all the family I have left, so an American husband is needed.”

  “So the man that marries your daughter will get all of the land, and all he has to be is American?” Jackson was a little sick in his stomach.

  De Zavala paused and looked Jackson straight in the eye. “Sí.” After holding eye contact for a few breaths, he went back to eating. “So do you know a good man? You, perhaps?”

  “You’d trade your daughter in marriage to keep the ranch in your family?” He pushed the bowl away and leaned back in his chair. Staring past De Zavala, he watched a small group of children play outside.

  If De Zavala was talking, Jackson didn’t hear him. His mind had him standing on the edge of darkness.

  The day he buried the bloody bodies of his wife and babies he made a vow. He would never stand at that place again. He would stay true to her memory for the rest of his days. Never again would he throw dirt over someone else he loved, someone he should have protected. Someone he married.

  But then again he didn’t love Sofia. But could he walk away from her and leave her to someone who just wanted the land?

  Everything in him screamed for him to get up from the table and walk out the door. She had lied to him. Why would he even consider betraying his vow to Lilly for her?

  Then he thought about her face as they drove across the last river. She deserved to be free to work the land she loved.

  “I’ll do it.” He broke out in a cold sweat. There would be no going back now. What had he done?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sofia smoothed her hands over the silk skirt of the wedding gown Juana’s daughters had brought up to her. The most daring, adventurous time in her life was being cut short by her own wedding.

  It wasn’t lost on her that in trying to avoid getting married she forced the issue. Poor Jackson was paying the price. So was she. She would be married to a man that loved his dead wife more than he would ever love her.

  The women, several generations of Juana’s family, fluttered around her. They bounced from giggling to whispering to tear-producing laughter. These women she didn’t even know were excited for her.

  Her father had charged them with getting her ready for the wedding. Juana had organized her troops as if Texas freedom was at stake again. Currently their hands tried to fix her short hair.

  “Your hair is so short. Why?”

  “It’s not polite to ask why.” An older aunt glared at the youngest girl in the room. It was the same look her own mother had bestowed on her the times Sofia had broken social protocol.

  Juana’s oldest daughter, Veronica, worked with her hair. “She was dressed as a boy when she came in with her vaquero.”

  A need to explain rushed in, but then the words lodged in her throat. He wasn’t hers. Chills creeped over her skin. By the time the sun settled, he would be hers and she would be his.

  The few women who didn’t know the story gasped. The one telling the story nodded with a knowing look and stuck another pin in Sofia’s hair. “She went all the way to New Orleans on a cattle drive with him.”

  The younger women turned to her with awe in their eyes. “You rode on a cattle drive dressed as a nino?”

  She would have nodded, but now her head was being twisted in order to make her hair look presentable.

  Juana moved in front of her, blocking the view of the younger girls who had gathered on the floor.

  “She is blessed to be alive and that he is willing to honor her by giving her his name and protection.” She looked down at the younger girls. “Imagine what could have happened to her in the wild. No woman wants to be alone and shunned by good people. Would you want your friends to turn their backs on you because of an impulsive action?”

  “Real friends wouldn’t do that.” Sofia’s voice sounded hoarse to her own ears.

  The boardinghouse owner slowly brought her gaze back to her, and everyone leaned back.

  Mouth dry, Sofia cleared her throat. Her own mother would be horrified that she spoke up in such a way. “Señora, I apologize. I meant no disrespect. I just would hope that if I had friends they would be loyal enough to stay my friends when I needed them most.”

  Juana narrowed her eyes and stared at her. “Yes, this is true also. Our God is forgiving when you repent. I understand this has to be a stressful day for you. Your father, God bless him, said you had lost your mother and brother recently. And now you are being rushed to the altar without your mother’s guidance.”

  She pulled a large silver comb from her pocket. “This has been worn by all the women in my family. The doves represent love, peace and faith. All the things you will need for a good marriage.”

  The doors opened, and one of the cousins entered carrying a vase full of red, pink and yellow roses.

  Finally, the attention was off Sofia, and Juana made her way to the newest arrival. “These are beautiful. Good job, mija.” She turned to Sofia. “No bride should enter her new life without the color and beauty of the roses. Soft and silky but strong and steady. Even a few thorns for protection.” She laughed at her own joke, and
all the other women giggled. The full blooms were clipped and pinned into her hair. Then the women placed the two yellow rosebuds between the large open pink and red flowers.

  “And now for the final piece. Mercedes, bring the veil.” Juana’s younger sister draped the delicate lace over her arms and presented it to Juana. The exquisite material was whisper thin, and the scalloped edging created the most beautiful cloth Sofia had ever seen. The soft gold color was accented with ivory lace and embroidered roses. Her mother had loved roses.

  Tears burned her eyes again.

  “Oh, mija. No more tears. We are here for you. Your handsome groom will arrive soon to take you to the chapel. Everything will be right in the eyes of God.”

  Sofia took a step back. “I can’t wear that. It’s too precious. You’ve done too much already.”

  “De nada. This is a special day, and it needs to be treated as such.” She touched the one short curl that had escaped the pins. “And your groom needs to be reminded that he is marrying a woman.”

  Oh, no. The tears were building again. She blinked, hoping they would go back where they came from. Stupid tears, they served no purpose and only complicated things, making her look weak.

  The cross-country cattle drive had pushed and tested her, but she survived and flourished. So why was she falling apart now? This was something almost every woman in history had gone through, some in much worse circumstances.

  Lowering her head, she nodded to Juana. “I’m honored by your gift and blessings.” The women surrounded her, fussing over the final details. They giggled as they talked in a mix of Spanish and English.

  Smiling, Sofia thought of her mother and almost started crying again. She would have loved the gown and roses. What would she think of Jackson?

  Her mother put a great deal of stock in bloodlines and social standings. Jackson McCreed might have been a disappointment. She wasn’t sure he even wanted to marry her.

  She knew most men wouldn’t have allowed a woman to stay on the cattle drive or respect the skills she brought to the trail. Would he still after she became his wife, or would it all change?