The Desires of Her Heart

by Lyn Cote

  “Señorita?” Don Carlos asked in a caring tone.

  “I’m fine.” She raised a hand, and gripped her reins tighter. “The Mexican captain challenged our right to be in Texas and decided he would take us all back to his commandante in San Antonio. That same night, Ash married Reva and I was kidnapped. My only guess is that the wagon train has continued on to San Antonio.”

  Don Carlos’s face twisted. “What we really need to know is why my cousin Eduardo had you kidnapped and brought here.”

  “Eduardo is your cousin?” I never trusted Eduardo. This bubbled up from deep inside her. Just as the man beside her had given her clues of his true nature, Eduardo had always had a way of looking at her and speaking to her that should have alerted her that he was a sly creature. “Why didn’t you tell us who you really were?”

  Don Carlos looked into her face, imploring. “This has been an unusual year for me. I rarely go along on cattle drives north to Natchitoches. And then on our way home, I saw your caravan in Nacogdoches. I decided to travel with your party incognito because I wanted to make sure of my opinion of the Anglos. I wanted to know if I was right in thinking it a mistake in letting them into Texas.”

  Dorritt couldn’t blame him. Who would want Mr. Kilbride as neighbor?

  Don Carlos gave a wry smile. “Anglos expect Texas, the new Mexico will be just like home, like los Estados Unidos. But we were a Spanish colony. And when have the English and the Spanish ever agreed on anything? Americans settling in Texas will be like adding oil to water. Anglos do not blend in. Anglos conquer.”

  Dorritt nodded. “You are very perceptive. They are coming because they want the land. And once they have the land, they will want more.”

  “I want Texas and the rest of the new Republic of Mexico for Mexicans. Not Spaniards. Not angloamericanos. I cannot understand why Mexico City ever allowed this Austin scheme. Except that they were desperate to find someone, anyone, who would settle here in Norte Tejas.”

  Dorritt remembered Quinn’s words. “Quinn said inviting Americans in was like inviting a bear into your house.”

  Don Carlos laughed out loud. And nodded. “Señor Quinn is nobody’s fool.”

  She sighed. “But we have drifted from speaking about our situation—”

  Don Carlos’s face darkened. “Eduardo has brought shame on both of us. It is most improper for you to be here without a chaperone, such as your mother. I do not know what I can do to protect your reputation. But I will do everything in my power.”

  Dorritt watched Don Carlos, as he gazed at his sister, playing. How would they ever sort out this mess and get her back to her family safe and untarnished?

  He turned to her. “I have given you today to see how we live here at Rancho Sandoval. What do you think of my home?”

  Though Dorritt hadn’t expected this question, she thought over what she’d witnessed the past today. Carlos’s house was a happy one. It was hard to know precisely how she knew this. But even though she could speak so little Spanish, there was no anger or fear in the voices and faces of the servants, the vaqueros or the peons. There was laughter and singing and smiles. And Alandra, though obviously a little spoiled, was well mannered and obedient. This told her a great deal about Don Carlos Sandoval as a master, as a brother. “Yours is a happy home.”

  Again, his bright smile. “Except for one thing. Rancho Sandoval needs a doña.”

  The face of the man in New Orleans who had wanted Dorritt to marry him because she was frugal and good with children flashed in her mind. Was this just going to be another case of a man who needed a wife to make his life easier? Is that why Alandra had said Senorita Dorritt would make Carlos a good esposa? “Is that why I’m here, Don Carlos?” She couldn’t keep the stiffness out of her tone. “You need a woman to take care of Alandra and run your household?”

  “I did not have you brought here,” he said gently. “Eduardo did it. But Eduardo knew I did want you here.”

  “Why?” She gazed into his face, ready to weigh his answer.

  His features softened and his voice was low, caressing. “Because estoy enamorado de ti. I have fallen in love with you.”

  Seventeen

  Dorritt found she could not breathe and looked away. No man had ever said these words to her. She’d thought she would never hear them. She’d even denied she wanted to hear them. But here she was on a rise in Texas overlooking thousands of acres beside a man who was a good master and a good brother. And this man had said the words she’d secretly yearned to hear.

  What could be her reply? She found she no longer feared him but she was unsure of her own heart. She knew she had feelings for Quinn but he had rejected trying to change. He didn’t seem willing to make room for her in his wanderer’s life and he hadn’t come after her, despite his previous protection. She couldn’t have imagined ever having these feelings for any man. And now someone, a gentleman, felt this way about her, Dorritt, the unwanted daughter. Her feelings capered and tumbled inside her. Was it possible that she had found what she had thought impossible? Could she have found two men who were worthy of love—Quinn and Don Carlos?

  She wished Reva were here. She needed someone to help her figure this all out. Dorritt slid from her horse. “If you fell in love with me, I still don’t understand why you didn’t reveal yourself to me before you left.”

  Don Carlos had slipped from his horse too. “Let me explain. After you had settled in with your family north of San Antonio, I had intended to court you. I am acquainted with your familia but you do not know mine. My father was a Spaniard whose family had lived in Mexico City for three generations. I think you will understand me when I say Spaniards in Mexico looked down on mixed-blood Mexicans like me because we mestizos came from Spaniards that intermarried with Indians.”

  Dorritt could think of no comment. She nodded.

  “My father, a Spanish pureblood Creole, fell in love with my mother, who was a mestiza. His family was absolutely opposed to their marriage. But my father married her, anyway, and went to the governor and requested a land grant north of the Rio Grande. Since the governor wanted people who would move north, my father’s request was granted. He paid a nominal fee for the land and hired people who wanted to move to Texas with him. And that is how Rancho Sandoval came to be.”

  Dorritt asked him a question that had bothered her, “Whose clothing am I wearing?”

  “My mother’s. She outlived my father for several months but died soon after Alandra was born.”

  It was as if the tension in her midsection relaxed. This man did not see her as a convenient replacement for a late wife.

  “My father never regretted his decision to marry mi madre. He told me never to marry until I found a woman I truly loved. He said if I married anyone who was just a good match, I would never be happy. I am nearly thirty years old. And you are the first woman whom I have loved.” He frowed and shrugged as if defeated. “And now because of Eduardo, I cannot court you as I’d intended.”

  Dorritt did not doubt for one second that he was being completely honest with her. Yes, a woman coming alone to the home of an unmarried man she was not related to would provide a juicy scandal for everyone high and low who heard it. She gazed again over the wide open horizon, the lush grass undulating with the wind like waves, the unnumbered cattle; a herd of antelope darted in the distance. Then it hit her. A release, a sense of transformation shuddered through her every nerve. Inside her, more tight little knots were unraveling. And her mind was thinking brand-new thoughts and her heart was feeling newborn emotions. This land was so big. Her thinking must expand to fit this new place.

  And Dorritt liked that Don Carlos was putting no pressure on her. He loved her but he was not telling her she must marry him to protect her reputation. He was respecting her as an equal, not a weak woman to be ordered around. She took his hand. “I do not know. I have never considered marriage.” She let go of his hand and watched Alandra hopping after a locust. How could she explain? “You say you had par
ents who loved one another and made a life for themselves. That is not what I have learned from my mother.” Sadness closed her throat. “I have only ever wanted to be free, free of my stepfather, free to live life on my own.” Saying this aloud and to a man liberated her further. Her lungs expanded.

  “I see. Forgive me, but I eavesdropped on your conversation with your maid about living alone and running a school. That is an estimable goal. But I think I could make you happier. I said the first night you arrived here you were born to be a doña, a grand lady who oversees a hacienda grandiosa.”

  Dorritt gazed at him and then at the vast grassland. “Maybe I have been wrong,” she murmured. “Maybe I can have a different life here, can trust a man with my heart.”

  At a question from Alandra, Don Carlos went to his little sister. Then returning to Dorritt, he said, “I know you have been intrigued by Señor Quinn and perhaps…more.”

  She pursed her lips and tried to smile. “You are very perceptive. I have a great deal of respect for Mr. Quinn and he is special to me.” She looked away. “But he has never said anything to lead me to believe he wants more than friendship with me.” He kissed you, her mind insisted. But what was a kiss? It said nothing of Quinn’s intentions.

  Watching his sister as if giving Dorritt room to speak her mind, Don Carlos nodded.

  “Don Carlos, I need time to consider your proposal. I need to see Mr. Quinn and talk to him and find out if he does have feelings for me. I need to go back to my family.” Her heart lurched. “I don’t think my stepfather or half-sister miss me, but I know my mother must be worried. And in her delicate condition…Will you take me to San Antonio?”

  “Of course, I am sorry. And we do not want your mother to be distressed any more than she already is.” His voice became harsh. “But most of all I regret that Eduardo did not treat you with the respect that you deserve.” He took her gloved hand. “But I will do everything in my power to show you are a lady of honor. And I will let no one—no one—show you disrespect.”

  His fervent promise moistened her eyes. Someone cared about what happened to her. “Thank you. I do not hold you responsible. But I’m very afraid Mr. Quinn will hold the kidnappers responsible.”

  Don Carlos’s jaw hardened. “I hold them responsible also. They will pay for what they have done.”

  Again Dorritt gazed at the vast ranch before her. Could she actually marry and be happy? Could she have a life vastly different than one she’d ever dreamed of? She now understood a little of why God had allowed her to be brought here. But the situation was so tangled and her heart ached for Quinn. I have feelings for Quinn. But do I have a future with him?

  For two days, Quinn followed the creek to the river, which turned out to be the San Antonio. And now, ahead he saw the walls of the fort, the Alamo. Grim tension held sway over him. Finally, he’d reached the town where he hoped to find his friend Ash and the Kilbride wagon train safe and sound. But that did not bring him much nearer finding Don Carlos Sandoval, Eduardo, and Dorritt. Weary as he was, he felt the anger rise in him again, hot and fierce. Eduardo would pay and so would Carlos.

  He came upon the wagon train first just beyond the plaza. Before he could even call out, Mrs. Kilbride hailed him, “Oh, Mr. Quinn, where’s my daughter?”

  Her question stopped in his tracks. “Ma’am, she isn’t with me. From what I understand from Eduardo, both Miss Dorritt and I were kidnapped at the same time.”

  “Then why don’t you know where she is?” Mrs. Kilbride hurried forward with her hands clasped tightly together.

  “Eduardo took me someplace different than he sent Miss Dorritt. Did all the vaqueros leave at the same time—when Miss Dorritt and I were kidnapped?”

  Cole Anderson had come forward and answered for her, “Juan stayed to herd the cattle. So you’re saying Eduardo took you one place and the other vaquero took Miss Dorritt to another place?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying happened.” Quinn’s irritation flared like sparks. “Have you seen Eduardo or Juan or my friend Ash here in San Antonio?”

  “Juan came with us. And since then, we’ve seen Eduardo and Juan from a distance. And your friend Ash helped us when we first got here—”

  Mrs. Kilbride interrupted, “Mr. Quinn, they put my husband into jail.”

  Quinn couldn’t deny that hearing Mr. Kilbride was in jail did not disturb him; it did not even surprise him. “He tried to tell the commandante what to do, right?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Kilbride said. At the same time, Cole burst into laughter. Mrs. Kilbride turned an angry look on him. “This is no occasion for levity.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Cole apologized, holding back his laughter. “What we couldn’t figure out, Quinn, is how Eduardo got the jump on you.”

  That grated inside Quinn. “They drugged my coffee.”

  “That’s low,” Cole said. “I’d be happy to help you teach those Mexicans a lesson.”

  “Looking to get thrown into jail too?” Quinn quizzed.

  Cole propped his hands on his hips. “No, what I want to do is get out of San Antonio and meet up with Austin on the Colorado. Can you help us with that?”

  “I doubt it. You’ve seen my friend Ash?”

  “Yes, he is at the other end of the San Antonio. He and his new wife are staying over there with some other colored folk.”

  Just where I thought he’d head. Quinn touched the brim of his hat and turned to leave.

  “Mr. Quinn,” Mrs. Kilbride called after him in a troubled voice, “won’t you help find my daughter?”

  He mounted his horse. “Ma’am, no power on earth will stop me from finding her.” His own words goaded Quinn—deep and hard.

  He rode through town barely aware of the people around him. In a few days, a week would have passed since he and Dorritt had been kidnapped. He knew if people heard of her kidnapping, they would assume her virtue had been compromised and her reputation would be ruined. He’d been so careful not to let his feelings, his regard for her cast a shadow over her name. And now this. He approached the jacales where he knew Ash had family and called out, “Ash!”

  His friend came out of one of the jacales and shouted, “I knew you’d turn up! A man can’t get rid of some fleas!” When Ash reached him, he embraced and pounded him on the back. “You look like you could use a square meal.” Ash called over his shoulder. “Tía, por favor, prepara la comida. ¡Tortillas y frijoles para mi amigo!”

  Then Reva ran out and hugged Quinn. “I’m so happy.” She burst into tears. “But where is my lady?”

  Quinn allowed her to hug him and then pulled away, unused to this type of greeting from a woman. “I’ll find her. Don’t worry. And Eduardo will pay and so will Carlos. Carlos is a Sandoval.”

  “I know. He’s the Sandoval,” Ash agreed, waving Quinn toward the door. “I’d heard of him but not seen him much. And I didn’t recognize him dressed like a common vaquero. Though those silver spurs should have told me something. Anyway, I’ve seen Eduardo in town.” Ash’s mouth drew together like the mouth of a leather purse. “I didn’t want to take matters into my own hands until I found out what happened to you. So I’ve just been watching him.”

  Quinn burned but forced himself not to turn immediately back to town. He needed food, water, rest, and time to think this through. “I need to know all that happened after I was kidnapped. Everything.”

  “Don’t worry. I paid close attention.”

  Soon inside the windowless jacal, Quinn sat on a bench at a small pine table and began eating some spicy and delicious beans wrapped in a tortilla. The green chilies burned his throat, but he was glad to taste something with flavor. He had eaten saltless fish and small game on the trail. It was good to eat food again that a woman, a good cook, had prepared. He watched and listened to the kitchen chatter. Ash’s bride Reva appeared happy with her new family and in return, the family looked pleased.

  Ash had it all. A family, a new bride. Quinn closed his eyes a moment and ima
gined what it would be like after a trip or a day’s ranching to come home to Dorritt and eat food she’d prepared and then hold her soft body close, breathe in her fragrance. He stopped himself and concentrated on tasting the peppery frijoles and on how to find Dorritt.

  Quinn awoke with a start. He lay on the dirt floor on a hand-woven wool blanket. After his meal, he had lay down just to take a nap. But now he awoke and morning light was flowing in through the open door. He had fallen into a deep sleep and had slept the night through without even changing position. He knew that meant he had really been too tired to think straight or to do anything. But it still griped him. Dorritt was out there somewhere. She needed him. And he needed to find her.

  Nearby, he heard Ash get up, making a rope bed shift and creak. “You awake, Quinn?”

  Quinn rolled over and faced Ash. “Yes, why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “You were too tired to do anything but sleep. Now, my sweet bride will make us some coffee and eggs and we’ll figure out how to find Miss Dorritt.”

  “I was thinking of finding Juan or Eduardo or both and beating them until they tell us what we want to know.” Quinn sat up and began rolling up his blanket.

  “I think that makes pretty good sense. In fact, I’ll kind of feel disappointed if they answer us right away and we don’t have to beat them up.”

  “Make them tell and then beat them up anyway,” Reva added, coming back inside.

  Ash looked at his bride with fake surprise. “Oh, dear, I married a bloodthirsty woman.”

  Quinn gave a half smile. The words were lighthearted, but his intention wasn’t.

  After breakfast, Quinn and Ash left Reva and headed into town. The dusty cantina was quiet as was the plaza. Ash asked the unshaven barman if he knew where Eduardo or Juan were putting up. The man said he didn’t know; then he tried to mine gossip from them. Who was this señorita that Don Carlos Sandoval was “entertaining” at his rancho? Quinn bit his tongue from telling the man off. He hurried out and caught up with Ash, walking into the morning sun.