Treasured (Lonestar Love Book 2)

by Victoria Phelps

  “Let’s get Ethan propped up before the food arrives.” Charlotte gave Ethan an appraising look.

  “I can help myself now,” Ethan insisted.

  “Stop, Ethan. You’ll hurt your arm or make yourself dizzy.” Charlotte’s tone crackled with authority.

  “Are you giving me orders, little girl?” He peered at her through narrowed lids.

  Esperanza laughed. “Charlotte has been a tigre, Ethan, while she cared for you. I think she needs to be one for a while more, and then you can have your little girl back.”

  The two women stood on either side of the bed, lifting Ethan’s shoulders and placing pillows behind his back. When they were finished, Ethan was sweating and pale. He placed a hand on his forehead and groaned.

  “Give me a minute for the dizziness to pass.” He swallowed convulsively.

  When Ethan’s breakfast arrived, Charlotte fed him the tortilla and some of the eggs before declaring he’d had enough for his first meal.

  “Tigre, huh?” Ethan winked. “Don’t get used to it.”

  Charlotte’s laughter filled the room and floated through the open balcony doors. “Take a nap, Ethan. You’re tired.”

  He raised a finger in the air, and it might have been the start of a scold if his eyes hadn’t closed as he gave in to his fatigue.

  The following morning, their little caravan embarked for Mexico. Ethan lay in comfort on a mattress placed in the bed of a wagon. Charlotte had a little stool and a mountain of pillows next to his bed. Their horses, Charlie and Devil, trotted along behind. The driver and four additional men were armed and alert as they rode on both sides of the conveyance. Best of all, a second wagon followed: a chuck wagon filled with a variety of foods and a small man with a rounded tummy who knew how to make eating on the trail delicious.

  On the fourth day, they approached the Hernandez hacienda. Ethan was able to ride, and he and Charlotte rode together toward the gate where a small group waited.

  Charlotte pulled Devil to a near stop and threw her leg over the saddle.

  “Whoa, little girl,” Ethan called. “Let me help you before you fall.” He reached her in time to encircle her with his good arm and set her feet on the ground.

  Then she ran, skirts in hand, toward a woman who also held her skirts in one hand while Charlotte’s feet churned the dust in her haste.

  “Mama. Mama.” Charlotte closed the distance and threw her arms around the woman with mahogany hair so like her own. A woman who filled the shape of the hole in her heart.

  “Charlotte, darling. I have missed you so.”

  Their tears mingled; their voices joined; the puzzle pieces fit.

  Chapter 18

  Ethan

  A slim man dressed in black pants and a loose white shirt separated from the group and approached Ethan with hand extended.

  “Welcome. I am Joaquin Hernandez.” He gestured at the two women who clung to each other in a desperate embrace. “Charlotte’s mother is my wife. This is a big day for her. It is a dream come true to hold Charlotte in her arms. She has regretted her loss, and relived the day when she escaped but left her baby behind many, many times—always with tears. Come meet our other children.”

  He gestured at the three who waited nearby, eyes glued to the hugging, sobbing duo.

  “This is our daughter, Mary. She is sixteen.”

  Mary dropped into a curtsey. “Buenos días, señor.”

  “Joseph is fourteen, and Tomas is ten.” The two boys offered their hands to Ethan in a solemn show of manly comradery.

  Joseph gave a small bow. “Welcome to Hacienda Hernandez.”

  His father beamed approbation at this gallant elder son. The younger boy wiggled his way behind his older brother, but the glow of paternal approval encased the three handsome children like a warm fire on a cool December day.

  “Come, children. Come meet your sister.” Charlotte’s mother waved the three over. They hurried to her side.

  Ethan watched as Charlotte was cocooned, enveloped and absorbed into the hugs and warmth of this new family. How different it must have been from the cold life in her father’s home she’d told him about. He smiled at the sight. His girl deserved this love and this family, found at last. A twist of unease unfurled in his gut. He was a simple man, a blunt man, a man a little on the rusty side. Would she still want him? Time would tell, he supposed, but he wouldn’t begrudge Charlotte her happiness. He would not be that man.

  “Please, call me Joaquin.” Charlotte’s step-father pulled his attention from the sobbing huddle.

  “Thank you. I’m Ethan Ford, sheriff of San Miguel.” The two men walked toward the gates of the hacienda.

  “Yes, I know who you are. Esperanza has kept us informed.” He stood with hands behind his back and fixed Ethan with a hard stare. “How did you come to be the protector of my step-daughter, Ethan?”

  A fair question, Ethan mused. “Charlotte came to San Miguel to stay with her friend, Megan Manning. Megan had sent her the money for the journey if she ever felt the need to leave her father’s house.” Ethan cleared his throat before he continued. “It’s Charlotte’s story to tell, of course, but the main point was that her father told Charlotte her mother and grandparents were dead. When she learned differently, she traveled to Megan. She wanted to find her mother.”

  “Her father is a dishonorable man,” Joaquin stated.

  “He is, and that’s a fact,” Ethan agreed. “I met Charlotte, and I came courting. She fled Mike and Megan’s house when men came to town looking for her. Charlotte was terrified her father would take her back to Boston, and she’d never get away again.” He shook his head and clenched his jaw into a slab of marble. “She got herself to Abilene and on the train for Odessa. I would have gone with her if she had only asked.” The marble slab looked ready to crack. “I feared for her safety. A woman alone in the west.” He voice was saturated with displeasure. “The kinds of trouble she could get into. The men who might take advantage. It doesn’t bear thinking on. Anyway, I followed her and pulled her through a scrape or two until Esperanza saved us both.”

  “I see.” Joaquin glanced at the reunion taking place before turning stern, dark eyes toward Ethan. “You have traveled, unchaperoned, across Texas. While I do appreciate your concern and your help, I am mindful of my step-daughter’s welfare and reputation. Forgive me, but I must ask. What are your intentions?”

  “Honorable, sir. My intentions are honorable.” Ethan held the man’s gaze. He didn’t like the direction this little talk was taking. It felt like Joaquin planned to take responsibility for Charlotte away from him, and it pinched like tight boots. Charlotte was his. But, the man had a point. Until his wedding band rested on her left hand, he didn’t have a clear claim.

  A tingle of unease threatened his certainty. He had focused all his efforts on bringing Charlotte to her mother. The effects of the new family had gone unconsidered. What claims would they make? What bonds would form? He drew his eyebrows into one straight line. “I’d like nothing more than to make her my wife.” He glanced down at the space between his boots. “We’ve traveled rough and alone across the range. There was no help for it.”

  “I see,” the man repeated. “Well, we won’t dwell on past events but look forward to the future. Charlotte has options now. She may choose to allow your courtship. She may choose to stay with her mother. She may choose another path, college or travel. We—my wife and I—wish to offer her the choices her father denied her.”

  “Of course,” Ethan agreed, but his heart beat a rhythm of choose me, choose me.

  “I do not wish to know, nor am I asking, the extent of your relationship with my step-daughter.” The man shot another dark look Ethan’s way. “But in my house, she is a much loved, much revered, unmarried young woman. She will live as such. I’m sure you understand.” Juaquin tipped his head toward the gate and the two men entered a tiled courtyard.

  “Yes, sir, I understand.” Ethan’s face was hot with his blush. He felt like a
callow youth being scolded for taking liberties. It was deuced uncomfortable.

  Laughter rang around the courtyard. Charlotte’s mother had one arm around her and the other around Mary. The two boys followed.

  Joaquin’s voice brought immediate order. “Tomas, Joseph, you did not finish your chores in the stables. You will take these horses,” he said, pointing at Charlie and Devil, “with you. Be sure to walk them, groom them, and feed them. Also, help the men who came as escort and see them settled in the bunkhouse.”

  “Yes, Papa,” the boys chanted in unison before picking up the reins and leading the big horses away.

  “Your mother will show you to your room, Charlotte. Perhaps you would like to bathe the dust away and change.” Joaquin continued with his directions.

  “May I go with them?” Mary enquired.

  “You should return to your studies, but today is a big day. You may stay with your mother.” The dark eyes landed on Charlotte. “We have waited and prayed for you to come to us. Welcome.”

  Charlotte blushed at the welcome. “Thank you, Señor.”

  “You are welcome. I hope, in time, you will call me Papa like the other children do.” The trio wrapped their arms around each other once more and their voices echoed down a long hallway.

  “Come, Ethan. I will show you to your room.” He led Ethan down a different hall. He gave a grudging grunt. It was clear his room was far away from Charlotte’s. Well, hell, he understood. If he had daughter, he’d probably lock the door and throw away the key.

  “This is the guest wing. The family rooms are across the main patio.” Joaquin pushed a door open and bowed Ethan through. “I hope you will be comfortable. If you need anything, pull this rope and a maid will come. I have already requested a bath and shaving materials.”

  The room was large and comfortable. Woven rugs covered the tiled floor and a large bed occupied the central space. A desk with writing supplies stood near the open doors and a hand carved chest of drawers with a mirror completed the interior.

  “Thank you, sir, I will be most comfortable,” Ethan replied. Very comfortable and very far away from Charlotte.

  “We meet before supper at six in the family’s private living room. I hope you will join us. Supper is at seven.” Joaquin spun on his heel and strode for the door.

  “It will be my privilege.” Ethan watched as Charlotte’s step-father shut the door behind him. Well, you had to hand it to the man. He ran his home with a firm hand, and those under his leadership were content and happy.

  A knock on the door brought a tub and hot water. Time to wash away the challenges of travel and face the trials of the home front.

  The following two weeks established a pattern. Ethan rode out in the morning with Joaquin. If Tomas and Joseph did not have studies, they rode along. The ranch was well run and well cared for. In addition to cattle, wild mustangs were brought in from open range, trained to saddle or carriage, and sold. Sometimes, they stopped by the homes of his workers or visited the little pueblo located on his land. Joaquin was their patrón—respected, trusted, expected to care and provide for every man, woman, child and beast on his land.

  Every night after supper, Ethan asked permission to take Charlotte for a walk in the garden. While this was granted, they were not allowed out of view, and if he kept her out more than thirty minutes, Joaquin would call them in. Frustration flowed through Ethan’s veins like lava, hot and thick, while Charlotte bloomed like a desert rose.

  “I noticed armed men are always present in the hacienda. What danger are you expecting?” Ethan asked as they rode out to check on the wild horses one hot morning.

  “Not expecting, exactly. But it is better to be prepared than caught unawares. Wouldn’t you agree?” The older man waited, his watchful eyes scanning the horizon.

  Ethan did agree.

  “When Charlotte’s mother came to our hacienda she was twenty and frightened. Frightened of her husband and for her daughter. My father hired guards for the house in case that miserable hombre ever showed his face.” They rode on in silence.

  “You’ve had guards in your house for twenty years in case Charlotte’s father showed up?”

  “Yes. Twenty years.” Joaquin called an order in Spanish to a vaquero who waved his agreement before riding away.

  “What will they do if he comes?” Ethan asked.

  “Don’t worry, my friend, they have their orders.” He brought his mount to a gallop and Ethan followed his lead.

  Ethan dressed for supper in the black pants and loose shirt Joaquin had provided. He didn’t much care for the clothes, and he really didn’t like being under Joaquin’s control. The man meant well, he understood that. But Ethan had been his own man, making his own decisions, riding his own trail for nigh on twelve years. Having another man’s authority pinched like a tight collar.

  The family retired to the private living room after supper, and Ethan extended his hand toward Charlotte. “Would you care to walk with me in the garden?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She rose and placed her hand on his arm.

  My God, she was so beautiful. He needed her in his life, in his heart, and in his bed. Her hair was braided and wrapped around her head in a popular local style, and he fought a battle with his hands. He wanted to remove those pins and unravel that rope, but Joaquin would be out the door and escorting Charlotte back inside before the first pin hit the patio.

  “We’ve been here two weeks, Charlotte,” Ethan began.

  “I know. It’s wonderful, isn’t it? I have a family. A family, Ethan. I am so happy.” She certainly looked happy. Her face glowed like a candle was lit behind her eyes.

  “I’m happy for you, little girl,” he told her. “I’d like to make you my wife.”

  “Oh, Ethan. I want that too. I know papa could use another good man on the ranch.” Her eyes glowed along with the setting sun.

  “Well, that might be true, but I’m just not built that way. Putting my feet under another man’s table every night would rub me the wrong way.” He paused as a flash of distress crossed her face. “Once we marry, we don’t have to worry about your father. A husband’s rights come first under the law. We can come to Mexico and visit your mother and your family here. It’s not safe for her to cross the border where her marriage to your father is still valid.”

  Charlotte’s shoulders slumped. “I see. It’s only that I just found them.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she dashed it away with the back of her hand.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. You’re caught between a rock and a hard spot, I guess.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back and pulled her close. “I love you. I sure do want you for my wife. Never doubt it.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll be mighty unhappy if you decide to stay here, I sure as hell won’t like it, but I’ll understand.” He tipped her head up and lowered his mouth to hers.

  “Charlotte,” Joaquin’s voice sliced through their intimacy, “it is time for you to come indoors.”

  Charlotte jumped away from Ethan like a scalded cat. “All right, Papa. I’m coming.” She scurried past her step-father and into the candlelight of the family’s parlor.

  “I think I’ll take a stroll down to the creek.” Ethan turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness. He’d give Charlotte a few days to think. He knew Joaquin meant well, but he wouldn’t be patrolled like a school boy much longer.

  Ethan joined the family for breakfast after a restless night. He loved Charlotte and he wanted her in his life and in his bed. Chances were he’d explode if he couldn’t resolve the matter soon. In the meantime, he’d settle for some good, hard, dangerous work.

  “Joaquin.” Ethan waited until the man’s dark eyes lifted from his plate and turned his way. “I’d like to stay on the ranch today and help break the new mustangs.”

  The utensils by Joaquin’s plate seemed to be in desperate need of adjustment. He lined his knife up and placed his spoon in a precise parallel before venturing to answer. “That is
dangerous work. I would not like for you to be injured on my ranch.”

  “I know. I take full responsibility. Some hard work will be good for me.”

  “All right. I will speak to the foreman.” Joaquin returned his attention to the food on his plate. “The boys and I will be in the east pasture if you would care to join us later.”

  “Thank you,” Ethan said while he watched Charlotte. She lifted her eyes to seek his own, and he dropped a lazy wink her way.

  By noon Ethan had been stepped on, bitten on the shoulder and thrown three times. The hard work had him laughing and relaxed. A gaucho flew through the air and landed in a cloud of dirt. He rose, swearing and slapping at his pants.

  “Hello, Ethan,” Charlotte’s scent assaulted him with some of the memories he was running from.

  “What are you doing out here, little girl?” Ethan pulled his eyebrows into a frown.

  She held up a book. “We never finished Huck Finn. I thought we could sit by the river for a bit. I’ll read to you.”

  “Did your step-father give you permission?” He wouldn’t step on another man’s toes in his own home.

  “No, he’s out all day. My mother said it would be all right.”

  He sought confirmation. “She did?”

  Charlotte nodded her head and tapped the cover of her book. Lordy, Lordy, that was good enough for him. He brushed the dirt from his pants, offered her his arm, and they headed for the river.

  He didn’t know about those crazy adventures in the book—dukes, feuds, and all the other shenanigans Tom and Huck got into—but he surely loved laying on the bank of the river with his head in her lap while her voice rolled over him like a heavy cloud.

  They were returning, her little hand nestled in his big one, when the sound of crying and apologies met their ears. The unmistakable sound of a hand striking a bare bottom added to the symphony of sound.

  Charlotte tried to break away, but Ethan held firm. “Wait, little girl. Someone is getting spanked. We don’t want to embarrass them.”

  They entered the house on quiet feet and tip-toed across the entry to the family parlor. Charlotte’s three siblings sat lined up on a couch. Their eyes wide open and their hands laced together.