be a steer before you leave mañana.”
The boy was already back on his horse. Jackson watched him as he coiled his rope and left the work area. He narrowed his eyes and studied the boy’s movements.
Something was off. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the young Santiago moved like a girl.
He frowned and shook his head. There was no way, with those kinds of skills, that he was a female. He’d hardly seen grown men act so fast with such precision. It would be impossible for a young female.
The crews worked together, starting to mix and talk. He hoped his cowboys learned a few tricks before going on the drive.
He scanned the area and decided now was a good time to solve the Tiago mystery. He hated surprises.
They had a tendency to turn good days into bad ones in a blink of an eye, especially when the warning signs were ignored. He would not let his impulse to help someone override his instinct that something was wrong. Not again.
Making his way to the wagon, he planned an in-depth chat to get this feeling in his gut settled. The kid was hiding something, but he didn’t have time to find a new assistant for the cook. He sighed. If it came down to it, he’d rather be shorthanded there than run into unforeseen trouble later.
Dismounting, he paused behind the wagon loaded with supplies. Jackson was sure the kid had come this way, but didn’t see him.
A sweet giggle came from inside the wagon. Jackson looked for the cook. He knew the man had several daughters, but he said they were all back in Mexico with his wife.
Looking between the canvas flaps, he only saw Santiago. The kid’s head was bent over a wood box, curls falling forward, hiding his face. Chirping noises mixed with soft girlish giggles floated through the warm air. It was Tiago.
The giggles came from Tiago.
Looking up, the youngster had a small chicken cupped in his hands. Jumping from his knees, he walked to the back of the wagon. With one hop, he stood next to Jackson. Without a hat, the kid barely reached Jackson’s chest.
“Cook has a few hens and some half-grown chicks. I have to keep the crate clean.” Lifting the awkward looking bird up for his inspection, the giggle came again. The chicken was half yellow chick fuzz, and half new red feathers. It looked like an experiment gone wrong.
“This one hopped on my shoulder and wanted to sit under my hair. I never knew chickens had personalities.” Tiago brought the chicken to a rounded cheek, and it cooed as it rubbed against the soft skin.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed and disbelief flooded his thoughts. How had he missed it? The orphaned boy he hired...was a female.
* * *
Sofia looked up at Jackson, and her heart slammed against her chest. The fire in his normally cool eyes warned her that she forgot who she was supposed to be.
This close, she could see the details in his irises. The green as bright as the new growth on the cypress trees. Now they burned with suspicion.
Stepping back, she tucked her head and locked down her lungs. If he discovered she was a girl now, he’d make her pack her saddlebag and send her back to the ranch, back to the plans her father had for her.
This adventure would end before it even began, and she’d be married to a stranger by the end of the year.
How could she be so stupid?
Turning to the wagon, she tried to climb inside and hide, but he reached for her arm. His strong hand holding her in place without effort.
“I think you have some explaining to do. Remember, I don’t do well with liars.” He started walking away from the safety of the wagon, pulling her along behind him.
Boots planted, she tried to stop him, but he didn’t seem to even notice.
“Please.” Lowering her voice, she wasn’t above begging. “Please, release me. I need to return the chick and finish my job.”
He didn’t slow. “You need to answer my questions. And think about your answers, because it’s starting to look like you don’t have a job.”
The chick squirmed in distress. Relaxing her hold, she tried talking to him again. “Please, let me return the chicken to the wagon.”
Halfway to the trees that lined the Frio River, Jackson stopped. He released her and crossed his arms. “Make it fast, and come straight back here. Don’t even try to run...again.”
With boots planted wide, and his forearms over his chest, he made an impressive sight. A sight she would be better off not appreciating.
Hurrying to the wagon, she talked to calm the chick. To be honest, it was more to calm herself. What could she say to convince Jackson she was a boy? Picking up her brother’s hat, she scanned the interior of the wagon, searching for anything that would help her.
“Santiago!” The command made it clear time had run out.
She had nothing.
Hat back on her head, she stepped out of the wagon and saw Jackson still standing the way she left him. She’d seen stone carvings softer than his face.
Taking her time to get out of the wagon, she was at a loss as to what to say to him. How could she convince him she was a boy?
The boots became heavy as she walked, each step a chore. She was more scared now than when she saw the bull charging. Dealing with Jackson was new territory. Being a boy was out of her experience.
A few feet from him, she stopped and looked at her boots. He was the one who wanted to talk, so she’d let him. It gave her a bit of time anyway.
“Follow me.” Without waiting, he turned and walked past the trees to the riverbed. Away from the cattle station. No one would see them there. She didn’t know if that was good or bad.
At the edge of the smooth rocks that made up the riverbed, he finally stopped. “What’s your name?” His jaw was tight.
Threads hung loose where they began to unravel at the end of her long sleeves. All her attention now focused on them as she rolled them between her fingers. Not knowing what else to do, she shrugged. “Santiago. Tiago.”
He snorted. Stepping closer, he cupped her jaw in one large hand and lifted her face, turning it to the right, then the left. His stare cut through her as if he saw right to her core. She had nowhere to hide.
One movement and he had the hat off her head. His eyes moved as he scanned her features. He shook his head. “How did I ever think you were a boy?”
Biting the inside of her cheek, she worked to keep her breath slow and steady. Showing fear was not an option.
“How old are you?” He moved in an inch closer.
“Twenty-two.” Forcing herself to keep eye contact, she didn’t blink. “Old enough to make my own decisions.” There had to be a way to save her job. She refused to admit she was a woman.
He dropped his hands as if they were burned. “Are you married? Is there an angry husband who will run us down and shoot us?”
“No. I’m not running from anyone or anything. Returning to the ranch after the drive is the plan, so I can work there. That’s all I want, and the only reason I’m here.”
He didn’t look convinced.
It was time to remind him what she had already done. “Just like I did when the bull was about to gore you. All that matters is I can handle the work. I’m fast at learning, too. One lesson, and I hitched the mules.”
“The trail is not the same as the ranch. It’s even more dangerous and unpredictable. It’s no place for a female of any age.”
“I didn’t say I was a woman.” She talked from the back of her throat, hoping it sounded rough and manly. “I have a dream for my life, and riding