On the trail, she proved she could rope and ride. She didn’t want to use the good wife skills her mother had taught her. Could she make Jackson happy by being herself?
Finished, they turned her to the oval mirror in the room. The woman staring back at her was a stranger. The trail had changed her, but in ways she liked.
Her skin was darker, her hair easier to deal with and her posture stronger. She lifted her chin and studied the new Sofia De Zavala. She approved.
Gently touching the veil that fell from the roses and cascaded over her shoulders, she wondered what Jackson would think.
He’d seen her only as a boy. Dirty and dressed in ill fitted clothes. Would he like this side of her? What if he didn’t want her back in the breeches? What if seeing her like this changed the way he thought of her?
Pressing her hands against her stomach, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Calming her stampeding nerves, she opened her eyes and rolled her shoulders back.
He was a good man who loved horses and the land. She loved those things, too. It was a good place to start a marriage, right? What if it wasn’t enough?
* * *
This was one of the worst days of his life. The one thing he vowed never to do again, and here he was taking a spruced-up fancy horse to retrieve a bride he didn’t want.
A glance down the road reminded him that he could just keep walking. The other direction was the church.
If he left, no one would blame him. Let her deal with the fallout. She was the one who had lied. Never would he have allowed De Zavala’s daughter and his only living child to work a cattle drive.
Which of course was the reason she never told him.
He thought of all the times she had been in danger, and his stomach tightened. He didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s life again.
But with this marriage, he would have more land and horses than he ever dreamed. So he’d give her his name, but that was it. Was it wrong to profit from her predicament?
She’d get what she wanted, too. What other husband would let his wife run all over the ranch in pants?
The warm breath of the horse he led tickled his neck, and he reached up and rubbed the big mare’s muzzle. Who knew his decision to come to Texas would end up with him becoming a major landowner? He took a deep breath. All he had to do was marry the cook’s assistant.
He was sure that if he was in a better mood, he’d find that funny.
If he walked out of town, not only would Sofia lose everything she loved, but he would leave with nothing but his stallion. Back to the beginning. He’d have to start over again somewhere new.
He didn’t have anywhere to go.
West was the chapel, where her father, Estevan and Rory were waiting to serve as witnesses.
Earlier in the day he found the two cowboys and told them the name of her father. They were both speechless. A rarity for the Irishman. When he shared his doubt about marrying her, Rory grinned and offered himself up without hesitation.
It took a world of strength to not smash his fist into his charming face. The cowboy was too pretty for his own good anyway. Someone needed to break that perfect nose and knock a few teeth out of his perfect smile.
He had the gall to laugh at him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, hombre. You won’t let anyone else marry our girl.
Estevan chimed in. “It’s like one of those fairy tales where the hero goes on a journey and wins the princess and a kingdom.” They kept giggling like a pair of old ladies.
“Didn’t she offer you her kingdom for some tea and a warm bath?” They thought they were so humorous.
“Be in the church at six.” He growled and stomped off.
He didn’t deserve a happy ending. Lilly and his babies were in a grave, and he should be with them. No way should he be getting married again and gaining more land than he knew what to do with.
He stopped in front of the boardinghouse, one step away from the small covered porch.
The dappled gray horse he had brought for Sofia dropped his head looking for grass. He thought about bringing her Domino, but that cow pony was too impatient and hot. This job needed a calm steady horse. It would be carrying...his bride, in full wedding attire. A cold sweat covered his skin.
Once he knocked on the door, it would be over. For the second time in his life, he would be taking a bride.
The road to the left would take him back to Galveston, but he’d have to get his horse. Galveston was out. Shaking his head, he lifted his hat and pushed his newly cut hair back.
Just do it. One, two, three steps and he was at the door. On the other side, his new unplanned future waited. He lifted his fisted hand and knocked on the dark wood.
He wasn’t sure what he expected, but an army of women covering every age was not it.
Juana stood in the center of the doorway, arms crossed and the look of a stern schoolteacher firmly in place. Behind her, a sea of faces stared at him. Some were full of glee, others stared in curiosity and a few with censure.
“Señor McCreed, state your business.” Despite her small stature, she managed to look down her nose at him.
“I’ve come to collect Miss Sofia De Zavala.” He pulled on the edge of his new gray overcoat. He forced himself to stand still under her scrutiny.
“Have you officially asked her to join you in marriage?”
The urge to rub the back of his neck ate at his gut. “Um... I’m not sure what you mean. Her father—”
“Yes. Her father did the right thing and arranged all this, but have you asked her?”
This morning when he left Tiago in the room, he never imagined he would be arriving at the door before dinner to pick up his bride. “I’m not sure what you want.”
She took a deep breath. A stern look of disappointment had him shifting from one boot to the other. “We will present the beautiful bride to you. You will go down on one knee and ask for her hand in marriage. Every woman deserves to be asked. Is this agreeable?”
The stiff collar of his starched shirt tightened around his neck. “Yes, ma’am.”
With a nod she waved her hand. Two girls around Sofia’s age ran off.
Breathe, Jackson, breathe. It was just words. He wasn’t replacing Lilly. His heart was not involved.
The women parted. Juana moved from the door and stood to the side of the porch. His gaze darted from her to the horse to the direction of Galveston.
He closed his eyes and counted his breaths, slowing the blood that pounded hard through his veins.
Feet shuffled followed by silence. When he opened his eyes, the new Sofia would be standing in front of him. His scalp prickled, and his stomach quivered.
Why was he so nervous? He knew her. He’d ridden with her for weeks now. At this point in his life, she probably knew him better than anyone else. She knew about his past but didn’t look at him with pity or blame. He could live with that. Deep breath. He lifted his eyes.
The blood left his body, and he felt numb. In front of him stood a vision of feminine beauty. This was not his Tiago.
This woman was new and exotic. What did he do with her? She was unnaturally quiet and still. Her enormous ebony eyes blinked in rapid motion. How had he ever mistaken her for a boy?
A few lose curls framed her heart-shaped face. A veil fell over her shoulders. In her hand, she crushed a small bouquet of flowers.
A guttural throat clearing pulled his attention to Juana. “Oh, yes.”
His own throat suddenly needed to be cleared. Licking his lips, he went down on one knee and took her hand. He used a little more force than intended, and her stiff body stumbled.
To stop her forward movement, he planted his open palm on her hip until she was steady again. Dropping his free hand, he looked up and gave her a friendly smile, at least h
e hoped it was friendly.
“Sorry.” Her voice was so low he had to lean in closer.
“It’s fine. Being in such a big dress has to be awkward after running around in breeches.”
Moisture beaded on her bottom lashes. He wanted to hit himself in the head. Idiot.
No woman wanted to be told she was awkward. Words weren’t as easy now that he’d lost his Tiago. He swallowed. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. You’re beautiful.”
He shifted his weight off his knee, which was starting to hurt. Clearing his throat didn’t help. He patted her small hand and gulped in air, feeling like a fish flopping on the riverbank.
He could do this. They were just words. They didn’t mean anything. “Sofia De Zavala, would you do me the honor of taking my name?”
Cooing and sniffing happened around them. He kept his gaze fixed on the woman standing before him, the now crushed flowers pressed against her chest with her free hand.
A slight nod from her, and his life took a new path. A path he didn’t want to take.
He made sure to smile, hoping it didn’t look as tight as it felt. An image of Lilly on her parents’ porch as he asked her to marry him flashed across his mind. Closing his eyes, he forced it away. He should be running, but he couldn’t humiliate Sofia and leave her abandoned like that.
For better or worse, he would soon have another wife.
I’m so sorry, Lilly.
Chapter Nineteen
Sofia studied the contrast of their hands. Her hand seemed so much smaller in his. Her heart pounded. It had been rushing in her ears since he dropped to one knee in front of everyone.
This was happening. They were getting married. “Where’s my father?”
“Waiting at the chapel along with Estevan and Rory.” His voice sounded like he had swallowed river rocks.
She gasped and pressed her hands flat against her chest. “They’ll be in attendance? That is so sweet of them to be there for us.” Why did that make her feel so happy?
He glanced to the side of the porch. “You haven’t said yes yet. Do you agree to join with me in marriage?”
“What if I don’t say yes?” Taking the time to study him, she saw the tightness of his smile. The green in his eyes lacked life.
“Then this is all over.”
“Do you want to marry me?”
He sighed and shifted his knee. “Yes.”
“Okay. Then I’ll say yes, too.”
He nodded as if glad that chore was over and done. Rising from his knee, he pulled her into the yard.
They stopped in front of a beautiful dappled gray with black muzzle and legs. She had been so focused on Jackson and his neatly cut suit and hair she hadn’t noticed the beauty of the horse he brought to her. The soft hair was warm under her touch.
“She’s not one of ours. Where did you get her?”
“Your father knows a man who had some horses. She’s your wedding gift.” He didn’t make eye contact with her but stared at the horse, his hand resting on the black mane.
Sofia traced the black leather of the saddle skirt, engraved silver decorating the edge. The large horn was made for a woman to sit sidesaddle. “This is not a working saddle.”
A lopsided grin pulled on a corner of his mouth. “No. Your father wanted you to ride in a proper lady’s saddle. It’s his gift to you.”
One of Juana’s sons brought a wood box to her. “Here is a block for mounting.”
Gathering the front of her full skirt, she looked up to the stirrup. “Life is so much easier in pants.” They placed the box on the ground. A couple of the girls who had come to help giggled.
She sighed.
He took her hand and helped her up to the block, and from there he lifted her and guided her into the saddle.
She’d never felt so helpless. It took him and three of the girls to get her settled in the saddle and her large dress arranged.
The tip of her delicate laced boots peeked out from the front of her dress. The full skirt flared out behind her, covering the back of the mare and cascading down the sides.
Jackson stood at her side looking up. The warmth of his hand was so strong she could feel it through all the layers of fine material.
“Do I look okay?” Her mother taught her to never ask how she looked. It either sounded that you lacked confidence or you were asking to be complimented. She bit her lip, but she couldn’t suck the words back down her throat.
“You’re majestic. A real life princess.” The rough edge to his voice made her feel strange. He looked like he wanted to say something else.
She leaned down, anticipating his next words. Her lungs refused to work while her heart waited.
It needed him to say something, but she didn’t know what. In silence they seemed frozen in time. His expression closed, and he moved away from her.
He patted her leg. “Are you ready?”
Was she ready? She was completely turning her life over to him. Would he change now that she was his wife? She wanted to make him promise they would still be friends even if he didn’t want her heart, but all she managed was a nod.
There was time to make this marriage work. She wouldn’t rush him.
He nodded back before turning away from her and taking the mare’s lead rope. One step and they were on their way to the church. The sway of the horse calmed her.
Her finger itched to take control, but she didn’t even know where they were going. Would this be her life from now on, him taking the lead and her following without a word or question?
As they started walking, she noticed the women followed. She twisted and looked over her shoulder. “You’re joining us?”
“It is your special day, and we all want to celebrate with you.” A few of the younger girls ran along the side of the dirt road gathering flowers. People came out of their yards and houses and waved.
Some joined them. Jackson looked over his shoulder. “Do you know any of these people?”
Joy caused her heart to grow and push at her chest. “No. I thought you did.” She tried to suppress a giggle. It was so girly, but an odd sound ended up escaping. Leaning over the large saddle horn, she spoke quietly to him. “We have become the talk of the town. They just want to join the wedding parade.”
He chuckled. “I guess this means there is no changing our minds.” He winked. For a brief moment she saw the man she could love.
Her heart melted. Yes, she was falling in love with her soon-to-be husband. Maybe he wasn’t so set against the marriage. What did he have to gain from marrying her other than helping her?
He faced forward again, nodding to people who waved and congratulated them. More flowers were handed up to her, some put on her dress.
As they walked through the dirt-packed streets of San Antonio, they made their way to the large cathedral. Standing in front of the giant wood doors, her father waited with Rory and Estevan. The last two had foolish grins plastered on their faces, stretching from ear to ear. She could already hear the teasing.
She braved a glance at her father. Her only family member left in the world. There was no joy or laughter on his face. A stern disapproving line pulled his mouth taut.
A smile had not touched his lips since the moment the storm hit and his wife and son were late returning home.
Jackson stopped the horse and moved to her side. The mare twisted her neck and nudged her boot. It was time to get off, but she realized without Jackson’s help she was stuck.
“What’s wrong?”
Heat climbed her neck, and she knew she was blushing. “I hate being encased in all this material. I can’t even move on my own.”
“Here, I’ll help you.” Before he could even touch her, her father was calling out to them as he approached.
“St
ay on the horse. I have paid a photographer to take a picture so we can make the announcement of your wedding in all the papers.” Standing next to Jackson, her father looked smaller. She always thought of him as tall. Music drifted through the air.
“You have mariachis here?” From the opposite end of the road, a group of men with string instruments, horns and large sombreros strolled toward them.
“Of course. My daughter will have a real wedding done properly. Everything your mother wanted for you and your brother.”
His firm jaw clenched and a sheen in his eyes reflected the fading light of the west.
A man set up a large black camera in the middle of the street and started giving orders. Her father moved to the other side of Jackson. Everyone was ordered to close in around the bride and groom.
The musicians continued to play somewhere in the background. It seemed to take hours of everyone being still for the man with the camera to get what he wanted.
Her legs had gone numb, and her back hurt from sitting in the awkward position on the sidesaddle. After today, she was never riding on one again. Would her father get offended if she traded this one in for a working saddle, one that fit her?
Finally, Jackson reached for her, but her legs were useless. His strong hands encircled her waist; she felt so small next to him as he set her on the ground.
He didn’t let go. Looking up at him, she held her breath. The warmth of his fingers caused her skin to tingle. All the times he had almost kissed her but had pulled back because he was a man of honor.
Soon she would be his wife. And they would have their first kiss in front of everyone.
Without any warning, he turned and left.
“Mija.” Her father’s hand slipped into hers, and she tucked her fingers into the crook of his arm. A boy she had seen earlier in the day took her horse, slipping the coin her father gave him into a leather pouch.
Together they stood in front of the large cathedral doors and watched, as what seemed to be everyone in San Antonio crossed the threshold.
“Your mother would love that you are marrying in the same church as us. Married. We could not have planned it better. God surely has His hand in this union.” His profile was stark in the fading light.
Lone Star Bride Page 18