direction the boy had disappeared. “I know there was something about the kid, but we can’t save them all, old man. Come on, we offered him a job and he ran. I’ll take you out for a run tomorrow.”
Jackson had one goal, and that was to get De Zavala to sell him a few of his broodmares. Their bloodlines were as old as those conquistadors. There was also a perfect property on the edge of town.
He brushed down Dughall and thought of the ranch he wanted to build. He visualized a place much like this one, but smaller. He wouldn’t need such a big house for just him, and he wasn’t going to marry. Not ever again.
He gave one last look out to the trees. Should he try to go after the kid? He had to be hungry. He sighed and threw the brush back in the bucket. Santiago would know the countryside better than he did. In the morning, he’d ask the ranch hands. Someone had to know the kid’s story.
Sofia leaned against the giant oak. Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her pounding heart. Eyes closed, she forced her lungs to relax.
Despite the horror of being caught, she had experienced pure joy for a moment. The big stallion’s muscles flexing under her, all the raw power ready to be unleashed.
The imprudent man had to call him back. The American cowboy didn’t even have the manners to button and tuck in his shirt.
Growing up on the ranch, she had been around plenty of men, but the man her father was doing business with made her uncomfortable in ways she didn’t understand.
She never realized how sheltered her father had kept her even as she ran free over the ranch, or maybe she’d just been too young to notice the men. But she noticed him, and he was a distraction.
For a bit, she had forgotten she was supposed to be a boy. That would’ve been disastrous.
He had said the horse was his. That didn’t make sense. She thought he was some cowhand delivering a new stallion for her father’s stables. How did a poor cowboy get such a magnificent stallion?
Her breathing slowed to normal as she pushed herself off the rough tree bark. Her hands ran down the bottom of her oversize shirt. The ease of movement in her brother’s old clothes was liberating. The thought of being trapped in a corset and dress again depressed her.
She could have her own clothes fashioned in such a way that gave her freedom of movement. Just because she was a female, her mother had convinced her father she needed to stay in the house, but she was different from her mother.
Sofia closed her eyes and bit hard on her lower lip, clearing her thoughts. The back of her head bumped the trunk. Above her, stars danced through the tree branches, winking at her.
Life was too short to live by someone else’s expectations. She loved the land. Running the ranch with her father was all she wanted. She could be his partner.
He needed her. With her mother and brother gone, it was just the two of them. This was her legacy also.
The light was still coming from inside the barn. First, she needed to convince him to buy that stallion. She would find a way to go for a real ride on the horse the cowboy called Dughall. Maybe the man could stick around, too.
She would love telling him what to do. As his boss, he would have to follow her orders. She touched her arm where he left his handprint. The warmth of his touch lingered.
With slow steps, she moved back toward the hacienda. Inside the courtyard, she eased along the adobe wall. As she got closer to the window that provided her escape earlier, her father’s voice drifted through the air.
She groaned. Getting back into the house would not be as easy as leaving now that he was awake. Sofia flattened against the wall as a light moved across the room.
Trapped.
She crossed her arms and slid down the rough side of her home. Her father’s voice carried through the night. He didn’t usually talk to himself. All the political upheaval had him more stressed than she thought.
“Thank you for taking my offer into consideration, Señor De Zavala.” The rough baritone voice joined her father’s.
Sofia’s hand covered her mouth. The cowboy was having a late-night meeting with her father? Maybe he had seen through her disguise. Her heart jumped in her chest.
Staying low, she peeked over the windowsill and watched as the tall cowboy shook hands with her father.
A dark jacket covered his shoulders now, and leather boots had him standing taller than he was earlier in the barn. Her father was not a small man, but he lost some of his size next to the cowboy.
They turned, moving closer to her. She dropped to the ground, waiting to see if they were coming to the window to call her out. Instead, she heard the chairs at the small table scrape across the wood floor. They settled in and started talking about horses.
The cowboy wanted to buy some of their top broodmares? No way would her father sell his best mares to this man.
“Mr. McCreed, I have a trade in mind that would get us both what we want. With all the uncertainty of Texas winning its independence from Mexico, many of my people have fled back to our homeland.”
A pause followed, as if her father needed to gather his thoughts.
“Texas is my home, and here is where I want to build my legacy. Losing my wife and son leaves me desperate to secure my land, my daughter’s future and the future of her sons, my grandsons. I have a cousin in Galveston, and I need to send her to him in order to set my plans in motion to marry her to a well-connected American.”
Sofia’s stomach twisted. Her father intended to send her away, to marry her off. Not to Mexico this time, but it was just as far. She had hoped he changed his mind, but the only thing that changed was he no longer talked to her about his plans for the future.
“Sir, I completely understand the need to protect one’s family. Especially a daughter, but what does this have to do with our deal?”
Her father gave a deep short laugh. It sounded as if he hit the cowboy on the arm or shoulder. “Forgive me. If you are ever burdened with a daughter, you will understand my worries. I love her, but she needs protection.”
Burden? Slow tears trailed down her cheeks. She heard the familiar tapping her father did when he was thinking. “I have a buyer for cattle in New Orleans. With so many of my families leaving for Mexico, I’m shorthanded. I need a range boss I can trust to get them to that point. You have driven a herd to market, sí?”
There was a pause in the conversation. She tilted her head to see if she could get a visual of them.
Her father continued. “The cash will fund my daughter’s trip to Galveston. I also have a small herd of geldings I’m selling. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can settle her future and the future of the ranch.”
A cold sweat on her skin battled with the burn in the pit of her stomach. She tightened her arms around her middle. Her father wasn’t even considering her request to stay and help him on the ranch. He was in a rush to marry her off. To get rid of his burden.
Pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes, she tried to stop the tears. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. It would just prove her father right. She was not weak.
The stranger’s deep voice carried through the window again. Making sure to be silent, she leaned in to hear more of the conversation.
“We haven’t been acquainted long, Señor De Zavala. I’ve been on a couple of drives, but never as the boss. What makes you think I can be trusted with your cattle, horse and cash?”
“You have more experience driving cattle than anyone else. I like to think I’m a good judge of character, and I know how important a man’s dream can be to motivate him. You have one of the finest stallions I’ve