At the senator’s table, the group was getting up to leave, Edwin being very solicitous of the three ladies.
Turquoise watched them go.
Rio said, “Forget him, Turquoise. He’ll marry some society gringa of his mother’s choosing. Besides, he must be almost twice your age.”
“Oh, shut up. He’s worldly, handsome, and sophisticated.”
“All the things I’m not.”
“You said it, not me. You know,” Turquoise said, “I think I’m getting a headache. Why don’t you join Uncle Trace in the bar and I’ll get a carriage home?”
He smiled at her. “Senorita, a real man would never allow a lady to go home alone after dark in a big city such as this.”
She heaved a sigh. “I am well able to take care of myself. Like any ranch girl, I can handle a rifle.”
“Ah,” he smiled,” and do you have one with you?”
She flushed with annoyance. “I—well, no, I don’t.”
“Then your uncle and I will escort you home. Now if you really have a headache, perhaps the waiter can bring you some bitters—”
“I’m feeling much better,” she snarled.
“Good. Then shall we dance again?”
“I don’t think—”
But he was already pulling her to her feet and holding her close, much too close, as they waltzed. She tried to pull back but he held her tightly, his breath warm against her hair, her breasts pressing into his chest. She had to look up to see his face and she didn’t like that, nor did she like the way her small hand fitted into his big, calloused one. She remembered Edwin’s hands, so soft and manicured; a gentleman’s hands. Rio smelled like a man, a little cigarillo smoke, a touch of liquor, the male, salty, sunburned scent of a cowboy. His eyes were dark brown where Edwin’s were pale. Edwin had a soft, pink face and graying light hair. He also wore expensive cologne and the finest of fashions.
She tried not to, but she enjoyed the dance. And now the orchestra struck up “Good Night, Ladies” as they danced, and she saw Uncle Trace come out of the bar.
“Oh,” she said, “it’s time to go.”
“Let me get your wrap,” Rio said.
“I can do that myself.”
He ignored her protest and led her back to the table and put the soft cashmere shawl around her shoulders, his hands lingering just a moment longer than needed. She could feel his breath next to her ear and for a moment, she thought he would kiss her ear. Did she want him to? No, of course not, she scolded herself. She had never been kissed before and when she allowed some man to be the first, she wanted it to be a man she wanted to marry, not a Mexican cowboy.
Uncle Trace joined them just then. “Well, it looks like you two have had a good time.”
“I did,” Rio answered. “I’m not sure about the young lady.”
“It was very nice, Senor Kelly,” she said in a cold, polite tone.
“Good.” Uncle Trace grinned. “Otherwise it would be a long train ride home.”
“What?” Turquoise blinked.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Trace said as they started to leave the restaurant. “I need a bunch of horses shod. Rio is goin’ back to the ranch with us.”
Oh hell. She didn’t know whether to be angry or just annoyed. She wouldn’t be returning to Austin for months. That would probably mean the end to any possible romance with Edwin Forester. By then, he’d probably be engaged to some snooty rich girl like Carolyn Turner.
The next evening, her friend Fern came to see her off.
“My word,” she said with a giggle, her freckled nose wrinkling, “I see you have a handsome man accompanying you home.”
Turquoise turned and looked toward Rio standing and talking to her guardian on the platform. “Oh, that’s just the farrier. Uncle Trace hired him to come shoe a bunch of horses.”
“He’s mighty handsome anyway,” Fern said. “Any girl would enjoy a trip with him.”
“I don’t think so,” Turquoise answered and looked around, hoping against hope that Edwin Forester might come to the train to see her off. But of course he didn’t know she was leaving today and wouldn’t want to face Uncle Trace anyway.
The train whistle tooted a warning and the conductor yelled, “All aboard!”
Fern and Turquoise hugged each other.
“Now remember,” Turquoise said, “you promised to take good care of Silver Slippers. I need a horse to ride when I come back to town and I hope that’s soon.”
“I promise I’ll move her to our best pasture,” Fern whispered. “I can hardly wait for the next chapter of your romance.”
“Remember, you’re sworn to secrecy,” Turquoise reminded her. “I don’t know how I can keep in touch with Edwin.”
Fern grinned and wrinkled her freckled nose. “Come back and visit me soon. You know we need to work on my wedding plans.”
Turquoise started for the train. “That’s an idea. I’ll try to get back.” She waved to her friend, wondering if Edwin would forget her before she ever returned to Austin. There was nothing she could do about that now. She saw Uncle Trace and Rio striding toward the train as the whistle tooted again.
Fern waved a hankie and Turquoise waved back as the two men swung up on the train. Then the train shuddered and chugged, beginning to move out of the station.
“Well,” Trace said with a smile, “I’m surprised you left that new mare behind. I thought you’d want to bring her home.”
Turquoise said, “Fern promised to look after her so I’ll have a horse to ride when I get back to Austin to help plan her wedding.”
“Sounds logical.” Uncle Trace grinned. “They should be servin’ in the dining car soon. Or shall we go into the club car for a drink first?”
“I don’t think I’m hungry,” Turquoise said, pointedly ignoring the tall Rio.
“Good. Then the men can have a drink.” Trace clapped the other man on the back. “Come on, amigo, we’ll have a couple of drinks and talk.”
“Si.” The other grinned and nodded.
The men started through the car and Turquoise frowned. The two liked each other too much. On the other hand, they were a lot alike, and neither was the polished gentleman Edwin Forester was.
She took a seat on the scarlet horsehair cushions of their private car and waited for the black waiter in a white jacket to come through the car striking his small gong. “Ladies and gentlemen, first call for supper, first call.”
Impulsively, Turquoise decided she would go ahead and eat. That way, she wouldn’t have to share a table and conversation with Rio Kelly. She hurried to the dining car and stood swaying in the entry, looking down a long line of crisp white tablecloths.
“Ma’am?” The black waiter came to her. “Will you be dining alone?”
“My uncle and his employee might join me later, but I’ll eat now.”
He led her to a table and pulled out the chair. Outside the window, the scenery flew by as the train chugged deeper into the hill country. Purple shadows of dusk settled over the landscape and outside, bluebonnets and scarlet Indian paintbrush dotted the landscape of grazing cattle and horses. She ordered a sherry and decided on beef pie in a crispy crust. She sipped the wine and enjoyed the scenery as the car filled with diners.
The beef pie was excellent; hot and filled with a creamy burgundy sauce. There were also small new potatoes floating in melted butter and fresh asparagus. She topped it off with excellent coffee and an orange creme cake. Turquoise was just finishing as Trace and Rio joined her.
Uncle Trace said, “I thought you weren’t hungry.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Buenas noches, senorita.” Rio nodded politely
She gave him a curt nod. “If you gentlemen don’t mind, I think I’ll go out on the platform.” She stood up abruptly as Rio tried to pull her chair out for her.
Trace covered a yawn. “Myself, I think I’ll catch a quick nap after we eat. We’ll get in late, Rio.”
“Si”. He sat down and T
urquoise headed through the dining car, grabbing onto chairs to keep from losing her balance on the swaying train. Behind her, she could hear the two men discussing horses.
It was dark outside now as she went out on the back platform and watched the shadowy landscape they chugged past. The scent of wildflowers and cedar trees drifted to her as they passed through the hills. Soon she would be home and she would return to teaching the small children of the ranch employees. She loved children, but with Senora Du-rango and her children gone to Philadelphia, things would settle back down into the humdrum of ranch life, broken only by an occasional visit to the tiny village on the edge of the Triple D.
And back in Austin, there would be glittering parties and elegant dinners, talk of politics and money, important people traveling to Washington, D.C., and New York City. Well, maybe there was no future for her except the ranch, after all. And yet, she wanted so much more; she yearned for glamour and respectability.
After a while, she heard the door open behind her and a man cleared his throat. She didn’t turn around. It was surely Uncle Trace coming out for a final smoke and maybe to scold her for being curt with the other man.
Then a deep voice with a Mexican accent said, “Per-done, senorita, would you mind if I joined you?”
Rio.
She didn’t turn around. “I don’t own this train. You’re certainly entitled to come out here.” She kept her voice icy.
A long silence, then “Do you mind if I smoke?”
She merely shrugged. She heard the strike of a match and then the pleasing scent of burning tobacco.
“Senorita, if I may be so bold, if I have done anything to offend you, I offer a thousand apologies.”
She felt herself cringe. She was the one who had been rude. “You have done nothing except leave me in the middle of a creek without coming to my aid.”
“Are you still angry about that?”
“Yes. It was thoughtless of you.”
He laughed, a low chuckle. “I would have aided you, but you began to treat me like a lowly servant. I’m not used to that from women and I may be poor, but I am proud, missy.”
“Perhaps I was a bit uppity,” she admitted.
“A bit?” He snorted and she wanted to give him a good whack, but she had a feeling this wasn’t a man to take that. He was just a little wild and uncivilized and she was used to men humbling themselves over her beauty.
“I’m just disappointed to be returning to the ranch so soon, that’s all.”
“I hear it is the biggest in Texas. I could only hope to own such a spread someday. You are very lucky to have such a benefactor.”
She turned slightly to look up at him. He was so big and powerful, looming over her with those dark eyes and the silver cross reflecting the moonlight. “You just don’t understand, I like ranch life, but I’ve always hungered for something more and a half-Mexican girl can’t—well, never mind.” She turned back to watch the tracks under them slipping by.
He came closer and threw his smoke away. She saw it hit the tracks behind them with a shower of sparks. “Oh, senorita, I do understand. How do you think a poor, fatherless boy who’s also half Mexican survives but by his wits in a city like Austin?”
“What happened to your father?”
“That’s a rude question for a young lady,” he said. “But since you’re nosy, my father was an Irish soldier in the Mexican-American War who fell in love with a local girl.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” So he was much like her, she thought; half-Mexican bastard.
The train lurched on uneven track and she stumbled, grabbing for the rail. The man behind her reached out and caught her, pulling her back. “Senorita, are you all right?” His hands were strong and powerful, not the hands of a gentleman at all.
“I—I’m fine. I think I should go in now.” She turned abruptly and was looking up into his rugged face, their bodies almost touching.
He stared down into her eyes and she saw passion and need there, but he stepped back and bowed low. “After you, Miss Turquoise.”
They returned inside and settled down in the Durango private car where Trace was already dozing over a ranch magazine. Rio leaned back against the cushions and slept, but she could not sleep. She had had one chance maybe to meet the important people and mingle with them and now she was headed back to her schoolroom.
Finally, the train stopped at the tiny village station in late night. A buggy driven by the ranch foreman, Pedro, was waiting and they all piled in, Rio putting his hands on her slim waist and helping her up into the buggy where he sat next to her.
“Hey, Pedro.” Trace shook his hand. “Anything much been happenin’ while we been gone?”
“Not much, boss.” The two men got in the front of the buggy and they started off.
“I’ve bought some new blooded cattle,” Trace said. “They’ll be shipped in here soon. Otherwise, it was a pretty dull trip.”
Dull trip? How could he say that? Turquoise thought as she tried to scoot farther away from Rio, but the seat wasn’t that wide. It had been the most exciting time of her life.
It was ten miles back to the ranch and sometime in that monotonous buggy ride, Turquoise fell asleep in spite of herself. When the buggy finally pulled up before the big white hacienda with the fountain in the front patio, she was leaning against the big man and he had put his arm around her, cradling her against him.
She sat bolt upright.
“I was keeping you from falling,” he explained.
Trace was already stepping down. “Gracias, Pedro. Take Rio over and find him a place in the bunkhouse. He’ll be with us a few weeks shoein’ horses.”
Pedro’s white teeth gleamed in his dark face. “Ah, good, amigo. You’ll be here for Cinco de Mayo then?”
“Si.” Rio nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.” He stepped down and helped Turquoise from the buggy, then stood looking down at her. “Good to see you again, senorita.”
“Yes,” she said and walked into the house, Trace right behind her with the luggage. She looked back and saw the buggy headed toward the bunkhouse.
“Ah, good to be home,” Trace said with a sigh as they entered. “Now if Cimarron and the kids were only here. I hope they get enough of Philadelphia to last a lifetime.”
“I wish now I’d gone with them,” Turquoise said as they entered the front parlor.
“Well, you were bound and determined to be a debutante,” Trace griped. “Damned foolishness.”
She’d been humiliated, that was true, but because of it, she’d met Edwin Forester, who was everything she dreamed of in a husband. Problem was, he was now more than fifty miles away and in this isolated ranch country, it might as well have been the distance to the moon.
She awakened the next morning thinking of all she had to do with her little class today, then realized suddenly it was Saturday. She dressed in a plain blue denim dress and went downstairs where old Maria was serving steak, eggs, and tortillas, washed down by strong black coffee.
“Well, good mornin’, sleepyhead. It’s eight o’clock. The day’s half gone.” Trace grinned at her and Pedro jumped to his feet as she entered the big dining room. “We’ve already been layin’ out work for the day.”
“Buenos dias.” Pedro grinned at her with his gold front tooth.
“Buenos dias,” she said with a yawn.
Trace pulled her chair out and the men sat back down. Maria entered and poured her some coffee.
“Ah, little one, you have a good time in the big city, si?” Maria patted Turquoise’s head, as she had always done.
“It was fun.” Turquoise smiled at her. “I’ll give you all the details later, lots of shopping.”
Trace groaned. “Well, that’s not something I’m eager to hear about again. Come on, Pedro, let’s go over to the bunkhouse and get that new man started.”
Rio. She frowned at the thought. There was something about him that both annoyed and excited her. She sipped her coffee and
waited for the two men to go out.
“Are the children all right?” she asked.
Maria nodded, a big smile on her face. “They hope you brought them something, senorita.”
Turquoise grinned. “I did. Candy and some books. Oh, and I brought a beautiful shawl for you.”
“For me? Oh, you shouldn’t have, senorita.”
“But of course I did. You have been like a mother to me since my own was killed.” That sobered Turquoise and she tried to remember her mother, Rosa. All she remembered was that she had been beautiful and stormy, but had died a heroine saving Trace and his woman, Cimarron. Her father had loved her the most, she knew, but there’d always been a rumor that he was not really her father, that the old don or one of his white friends had fathered her and pressured old Sanchez into marrying the fiery servant girl to cover up the scandal.
She did not want to think about that now. She ate with gusto the scrambled eggs with hot chili peppers, cured ham, and some warm tortillas, covered with honey and butter. Then she shared some of the ham with the tiny brown chihuahua, Tequila, that had hopped up on the nearest chair, begging and whining.
Maria clucked with disapproval. “You shouldn’t spoil the dog so.”
“Oh, everyone does,” Turquoise answered. “Has there always been a chihuahua here at the Triple D?”
“Always.” Maria smiled. “And most of them named Tequila. Remember the one that is buried at the old don’s feet?”
Turquoise nodded. And right next to the old don in the family graveyard was his faithful foreman, Sanchez, the only father she’d ever known.
After she ate and drank more coffee, she brought out the silk shawl she had brought the cook, who oohed and aahed over it and kissed and hugged her.
“Now I think I’ll go out and find the children,” she said as she started for the front door. “They’ll be expecting to see me.”
Tequila, the little chihuahua, trotted along behind her.
Turquoise gathered up her gifts and went out to find the ranch children. They were all waiting in front of the little schoolhouse near the blacksmith shop. “Buenos dias. Did you miss me?”
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