"Afraid I don't have time to eat here. I'll just snack on the trail."
With the cloth sack in her hand, she spun toward the kitchen. "I'll fill this and be right back." She scurried through the doorway, conscious of the boot thuds that followed at a slower pace.
"Buenas dias, Señora." His voice was warm as he greeted Mama Sarita, who stood at the stove tossing corn tortillas in a pan.
Mama Sarita kept up a lively chatter with him while Alejandra focused on filling his pack. There were a few tamales left from the other night. She wrapped the apple one in a separate cloth. Tortillas. A hunk of cheese. A generous bundle of buñuelos. Too bad she didn't have a way to wrap the arroz con pollo. How long would he be gone exactly? She turned to ask him…
And froze.
What was that on his chest? Something metal glimmered in the light from the window. A star? Her chest burned, and she struggled to breathe.
A badge? Edward wore a badge? No! He couldn't be a soldier. Could he? But only soldiers wore badges.
He must have noticed the stricken look on her face, because he stopped in the middle of speaking to Mama Sarita. His brows lowered. "What's wrong?"
Alejandra spun away from him. What was wrong? Everything! How could they be living in the home of a soldier? The kind that killed Mama. And Papa. How could she let this happen?
And how could it be Edward? She bit down hard on her lower lip to hold a sob inside.
An ache in her fingers penetrated Alejandra's awareness. She looked down, and found her knuckles white as they gripped the satchel. She had to get him out of here. Her body vaulted into motion, stuffing all the food she'd laid out on the counter into the satchel. No matter what the items were. She didn't care anymore. All she wanted was for him to leave.
Pulling the drawstring tight on the bag, she whirled and shoved it at him. "Here."
She didn't miss the shock on his face as he reflexively clutched the bundle. But she ignored it. Spinning back to the work counter, she busied herself laying out serving dishes to use for breakfast. She wouldn't leave the room until he was gone. Couldn't leave a soldier alone with Mama Sarita.
The room grew silent, but for the clanging of the dishes as she dropped them on the counter. Had he left already? But then came a shuffle, and the tell-tale sound of boots thudding on the hard wooden floor. The steps grew quieter as he retreated down the hall, then disappeared in the sound of the closing door.
~ ~ ~
What had just happened? Edward paused on the front porch to replay the last few minutes in his mind. One moment Alejandra was giving him one of her shy smiles, and the next she looked at him as if he were a two-headed demon. Had he done something to anger or upset her? Not that he could remember. Certainly not anything he'd intended to do.
Mama Sarita was telling him what Emmaline had said about her "favorite Uncle Eddie." That shouldn't have upset Alejandra. So what then? He wasn't dumb enough to think she was upset about him leaving, even if he wanted that to be the case.
A horse nickered from the corral beside the barn, pulling Edward's gaze in that direction. He had to get going if he was going to make it to Austin in time to meet the other Texas Rangers. With a weight in his chest, he turned and strode down the steps.
For the first time in two years, he hated leaving the ranch. Especially without knowing what had upset Alejandra.
~ ~ ~
"Mija."
Alejandra didn't look up from the peppers she chopped, but the concern—and hint of reprimand—in Mama Sarita's voice was hard to miss.
"The huevos rancheros are better with chunks of peppers, not powder."
Powder? She paused for a glance at the green vegetable scattered under her knife. It wasn't powder, but the pieces were somewhat shredded. Or mutilated might be a better word.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder. "Mija, what's wrong?"
Without warning, tears blurred her vision, their sting a perfect match to the burning in her chest. A sob escaped, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, just as Mama pulled her into an embrace. The tears would no longer be held back. Standing there in the kitchen, with Mama Sarita holding her close…she wept.
At last she pulled back, and with a shuddering breath, wiped her eyes with her apron.
"Now, mija. Can you tell me what happened this morning?" Mama Sarita's eyes held only concern as she studied Alejandra.
Alejandra's gaze skittered down to where her fingers wrapped around her apron hem. She had to tell Mama Sarita. Right? So the older woman would be wary? Or maybe they should leave the ranch. Yes. They had to leave.
She looked up to meet Mama Sarita's gaze. "The badge. He's a soldado, Mama Sarita. He wore the badge of a soldado." She gripped the older woman's arm. "We must leave here. We can't stay in the same house with him." Panic sounded in her voice, and she watched for that same emotion to appear on Mama Sarita's face.
But it was sadness that flickered there. The woman opened her mouth to speak, then paused, uncertainty wrinkling her forehead. "Alejandra. Señor Stewart is a good man. He's Anna's brother. A good soldier."
A good soldier? There wasn't such a thing. "We have to leave."
"No, mija." Mama Sarita's voice held a quiet firmness.
"But…"
Mama Sarita laid a hand on her forearm. "This is where God has planted us. We're needed here. We'll stay." And with that, she turned back to the work counter and began cracking eggs into a bowl.
So many emotions swirled in Alejandra's chest, she couldn't think straight. Just like that, they were staying here? Under the same roof as a soldado? Mama Sarita said he was a good soldier, but that wasn't possible.
All soldiers killed.
~ ~ ~
"Quit yer squirmin', Jack. Won't do any good." Edward eyed the man who sat atop the horse beside him. "Slope-back Jack," as he was known to the general public, twisted his upper body in an effort to get at the rope that bound his hands. The man could wind himself up like a knotted yarn if he wanted, but that rope was tied tight, in so many knots a sailor would be proud.
Jack snarled, the ugly pink scar beside his eye not hidden by the scruffy growth on his face. As scars went, that was a nasty one. Must not have had any medical care when the wound happened.
Edward's mind drifted to a scar on another face. Had Alejandra seen a doctor for the scar that edged her cheek? Hers was only a pink line, stretching from the point of her beautiful cheekbone to her cute little ear. What had caused it? An accident on the ranch she lived on before she left Mexico?
He'd pried enough from Anna to know Alejandra and her father worked on a large ranch there, until he died recently. But Anna wouldn't say more, even though she rarely kept secrets from him. When he'd pushed, her face took on a serious expression, and she said he'd have to learn the rest from Alejandra. What did that mean? It must be bad, whatever had happened.
Did it have anything to do with the way Alejandra had looked at him the morning he left on this assignment?
A sudden thought flashed in his mind. An awful thought. Had someone hurt her? Maybe something that happened in the kitchen that morning had brought back a terrible memory. His chest tied in knots like the ones holding the prisoner captive. What terrible thing had Alejandra suffered? If it had to do with her scar, it couldn't have been very recent.
His horse bobbed its head, jerking at the reins. Oops. He'd been squeezing with his legs at the same time his hands had a stranglehold on the reins. Poor animal, getting conflicting signals from him. Relaxing both his legs and the reins, he reached down to pat the gelding. "Sorry, boy."
But if he ever got his hands on the louse that hurt Alejandra, Edward wouldn't be sorry.
The man would pay. Dearly.
~ ~ ~
The next day, apprehension tightened Edward's chest as he rode into the yard of the Double Rocking B. He'd been more eager to come home after this assignment than any he'd had yet, but would Alejandra be back to her normal self? Would she flash that timid smile at him when he
told her how good the food was she'd packed for him? That smile could make a man hike barefoot through a cactus grove.
Juan stepped from the barn and shuffled toward Edward as he dismounted.
"Hello, boss." The older cowhand still spoke with a heavy Mexican accent. Juan had been on the ranch before Edward and Anna came, and he was getting up in years now. Not so much that he didn't want to feel useful, but riding herd all day took too much toll on his weather beaten body. Taking care of the barns and stock around the house seemed a good fit for the dedicated cowpuncher now. Besides, it was nice to have a man close to the house to protect the women. Just in case.
"Amigo." Edward extended a hand and a smile to greet the man.
"I take your horse. Give him a good rub down and corn."
"No, Juan. I can take care of Pepper." A decent cowboy always took care of his horse. That's the first thing Monty taught him about riding with the cowpunchers as a lanky fifteen-year-old.
But Juan didn't seem to have any intention of obeying orders. He grabbed Pepper's reins and started toward the barn. "I bring your bedroll in later. If you hurry, you'll be in time for the lunch," he called over his shoulder.
Shaking his head, Edward removed his hat and slapped it against his leg as he turned toward the front door. Would Alejandra be as eager to see him as he was to feast his eyes on her?
A savory aroma with a hint of spice greeted him when he stepped through the front door. Women's voices drifted down the hallway, and he followed them into the dining room. Anna, Mama Sarita, and Alejandra ate at the far end of the table. Conversation stopped when they saw him, and Mama Sarita rose quickly and strode to the kitchen.
"Sit down, Señor Stewart. I'll bring your plate out."
His normal seat was in the middle of the table, but it didn't seem right to leave so much space between him and the ladies. So he sat in the first empty seat near them. Just around the table's corner from Alejandra.
She hadn't looked at him yet, but he couldn't stop staring at her. Her sleek black hair was wrapped in a knot at the back of her neck, and stray wisps framed her face. Each of her features was so refined, almost like a china doll. She was breathtaking. Truly.
But she steadfastly ignored him.
Mama Sarita shuffled from the kitchen with a bowl in one hand and a small plate in the other. Steam wafted from the bowl, along with that same aroma he'd noticed when he first entered the house.
"Mmmm… Chili and Bean soup?" He raised a questioning gaze to the older woman.
The skin around her eyes creased into a cheery smile. "Sí. And Anna made the cornbread for tonight's dinner. You will have an early taste."
He shot a grin at his sister. "Yep, Anna makes the best spicy cornbread in Texas."
"You haven't tried Alejandra's yet," Anna shot back. "She made it for us two nights ago, and it makes mine taste like I forgot to add the water."
"Really?" Edward paused from eating to watch Alejandra's reaction to the compliment. She sent Anna a quick smile that didn't reach her dark eyes, then dropped her focus back to the brown mixture in her bowl.
"I can't wait til you make it again." He tried to keep his voice gentle.
She made no visible reaction to his words, except for a slight stiffening of her spine. And then he saw white knuckles where she held the spoon. If she squeezed any harder, that poor metal spoon would bend in half.
What was wrong with her? Was she this tense all the time? Or just when he was around? But she hadn't seemed to be uptight or reserved before. Maybe a bit in San Antonio after he scared off those thugs. But even then, when she hadn't known him from Methuselah, she'd been more relaxed and affable than she was now.
As soon as the meal ended, Alejandra darted to the kitchen and didn't reappear. It was high time he figured out what was going on.
Chapter Ten
Edward ran a hand through his hair. Maybe he should clean himself up before tracking down Alejandra. At the very least, change shirts and dunk his head in a bowl of water to rinse the sweat off. And maybe a quick shave. Too bad he hadn't stopped for a haircut on his way through Seguin.
A half hour later, he was as clean as he could get without a barber and a bathtub. Jogging down the stairs, he fingered the cut on his right cheek where he'd gotten sidetracked with the razor.
Voices and laughter drifted from the kitchen, so he headed there first. Emmaline and Mama Sarita sat at the small round table, the little girl giggling at something the woman said. Alejandra was nowhere in sight.
Emmaline turned that little cherub face on him. "Uncle Eddie, Mama Sarita's telling me about the three piggies."
He tweaked her chin. "One of my favorites." Turning to the older woman, he asked, "Is Alejandra around? I need to ask her a question."
Her face took on a sad half-smile. "She's in the back, doing the washing."
Nodding, he turned toward the door that led from the kitchen to the rear yard. A blast of cold hit him as he stepped outside. Maybe he should get his coat first. But then he saw Alejandra, and all other thoughts disappeared. She wore what looked like one of Anna's old cloaks, the brown color sharing the same dreary feel of the leafless trees lining the clearing. Even the rose bushes Jacob had planted for Anna beside the house had lost their green leaves and yellow blooms. They now stood as sad skeletons huddled against the chill.
Alejandra's back faced him as she bent over the wash tub, scrubbing. He made a wide arc so he approached her from the side. The last thing he wanted to do was startle her, and add that offense on top of whatever else had her so upset.
He stopped a length away from her. "Alejandra?" He cringed at the hesitation in his voice.
She didn’t react. Just kept scrubbing at a piece of red flannel.
He tried again, in slow Spanish, this time making sure his voice carried a little more strength. "Is something wrong? Have I upset you?"
Nothing. Not even a stiffening of her shoulders.
"I want to help. Please. You can trust me."
That got a reaction. Like a sleeping bear waking, she straightened up from the washtub, and shot him a look that could have boiled water in a snowstorm. He took a step back before he realized his action.
"Trust you?" Her eyes sparked, like a red hot horseshoe pulled from a forge. She rattled off a string of rapid-fire Spanish that took all his focus to try to understand. Only one word clearly stood out to him. Probably because she spit it with the vehemence of a cornered mountain lion.
Soldado.
And with that word, she flung the red flannel back into the wash bucket, whirled, and fled into the house. The door banged shut behind her.
Soldado? Soldier?
What did she mean by that? Edward shook his head to clear it. This wasn't making a bit of sense.
Was there something in her Mexican background that made her hate soldiers? But how could he know what? Who could he ask? Maybe Mama Sarita would share some of Alejandra's history. But would she really share such details about her beloved friend? Not even his own sister would open up to him.
And then a face popped into his mind. Monty. Monty had lived in Mexico. He wouldn't know anything specific about Alejandra, but maybe he'd know what Mexicans might have against soldiers in general. Or what that had to do with him. And besides, Monty was about the wisest man Edward had ever known. It was uncanny, the knowledge he held.
Edward saddled an Appaloosa gelding and set off toward the North pastures where Anna said the cattle grazed. He finally found the herds in the farthest section, near the line shack where the cowboys took turns staying when the weather got bad.
Monty sat on his horse near the edge of the tree line, still as an oak tree while he stared at the animals. As Edward neared, Monty didn't turn, but his lips moved as if he counted something. The cattle?
Edward halted his horse next to Monty's. And waited. His friend would speak when he was ready. Until then, he'd do best to let the man alone.
As he waited, Edward took in the sight before him. A cool
breeze wafted over him, bringing with it the familiar scent of cattle and dust, and the occasional snorts and sounds of tearing grass as the cattle grazed. There was nothing quite like working with a herd of cattle. It got down deep in the soul of a man. Took away the stress and strain of dealing with people. Just you and the animals and the elements.
"You come to work?" Monty's voice finally broke the peaceful spell.
Edward glanced over, but the man wasn't looking at him. He still faced the cattle, but one side of his mouth held a slight tilt. "I'm at your disposal, boss."
Now both sides of Monty's mouth tipped. And it was clear he was fighting the grin that showed in his eyes. "Fancy lawman like you shouldn't be out punchin' cattle with the likes of us."
Coming from any other man, that might have been a jab. But Monty knew Edward had enjoyed his eight years working as a cow hand on Jacob and Anna's ranch. And he knew better than any other how much Edward craved independence. And respect. To be more than just Anna's "Little Brother." And as a Texas Ranger, he'd succeeded.
They settled into silence again. How should he go about questioning Monty? Just come out and ask if there's any reason a Mexican woman would be afraid of soldiers? The approach seemed a bit direct. Soldiers were supposed to be good people. He didn't want to insult the man's country by insinuating the lawmen there were scoundrels. Nope, dancin' around the fencepost was the way to go here.
"Monty, when someone says soldados, are they talking about actual soldiers, or just lawmen in general?"
Monty raised a brow, but didn't turn it on Edward. "That's usually talkin' specific about soldiers." It was amazing how Monty had dropped most of his Mexican accent, and picked up the southern twang of most of the local Seguinites.
"So…are there a lot of soldiers in Mexico?" He kept his tone casual.
The Ranger Takes a Bride Page 7