The Ranger Takes a Bride (3 page)

Chapter Four

If
he'd turned into a horse in front of her, Alejandra may not have been any more surprised. He spoke Spanish? His accent wasn't perfect, but it wasn't bad. He'd obviously heard the language spoken quite a bit.

"¿Sí?" He took another step forward, creases lining his forehead. The action jerked Alejandra from her shock. What had he asked? If she'd been hurt?

She took her own step…backward. "No. No estoy dolido." Even if she
were
hurt, she sure wouldn't tell this man. She raised her chin a notch, but the action pulled at the tender skin on her cheek where the renegades had struck her.

"Eso es bueno. ¿Puedo ayudar a que llegue a casa?" He wanted to help her get home? If only that were possible. Alejandra's heart squeezed at the thought.

But maybe he could help her get the things she needed. Dare she trust him? She would have to take a chance on someone. And there was something about this man that seemed safe. But she'd make sure to keep her distance.

She met his gaze and answered in her native Spanish. "I’m looking for the mercantile. Can you direct me?"

His mouth quirked into a light smile. Not the scary kind that sent chills down to her toes, but a happy smile. Like he was glad she'd given him a chance to help.

He touched the brim of his hat and spoke again in perfect Spanish. "Sí, Señorita. I'd be honored to take you there."

Turning, he extended a hand in the direction from which she'd come. Had she passed the mercantile on her way into town? If that was the case, she really did need help, at least finding the building. With a wary eye on the man, Alejandra stepped forward and walked beside him on the boardwalk.

He seemed even taller now that he walked close. But his size was more comforting than unnerving. What was it about him that spoke confidence?

"Are you new to this area?" His Spanish was slow but easy to understand.

Her gaze shot to his face, and found him watching her. She jerked her focus back to the street in front of them. He kept to a leisurely stroll, but she still had to take long steps to keep up.

"Sí." Should she say anything more? No. It couldn't be safe to give any more details than necessary.

He seemed to accept her silence without resentment, though, and they walked past a few more buildings. Stopping in front of a tall, two-story structure, he opened the door and motioned for her to walk in.

"What are you looking for?" he asked in a low voice.

"La comida," she whispered back. The place was filled with shelves and displays and tables covered with more than Alejandra could have imagined. Boxes and bags and barrels lined one empty wall. And a table in the far corner held stacked rows of fabrics—more colors and designs than she'd seen in years.

The man motioned toward the other side of the large room. Jars lined a bookcase, and more large sacks sat on the floor. A small table draped with a bright red table cloth held loaves of bread and round containers that looked like they held cornbread cakes.

Alejandra's stomach rumbled. Loud enough for the whole store to hear, especially the cowboy standing mere feet away.
Don't look at him. Pretend nothing happened.
But her wayward gaze found his face—and the hint of a smile there.

"Sounds like we should head to the café for lunch after we leave here." His eyes twinkled. Was he laughing at her?

Alejandra tore her gaze away and strode forward to examine the bread on the table. "No. I have to get back to Mama Sarita."

He stood patiently while she examined each of the foods. Everything looked so good and just made her hungrier. Finally, she selected a loaf of bread, some dried meat, and cans of corn and tomatoes. Hopefully she would still have enough money to rent a horse, but they had to have food until they reached the town of Seguin and found Mama Sarita's sister. Mama had said it was still two or three days walk from this city.

She carried her parcels to the counter where the cowboy waited. As she set everything out, a tall man stepped up behind the counter and began making marks on a sheet of paper. The bare top of his head glimmered in the light from the lantern beside him, while a crown of pale yellow hair hung limp like fringe over his ears. His bright red vest barely buttoned around his expansive middle.

The man looked up and spoke something to her in American. She caught the word "cents," but nothing more. Alejandra fought back a frustrated groan. These people spoke so much faster than Mama Sarita when she was teaching Alejandra new words. Why did nothing sound familiar?

"He said the total cost is sixty cents." The cowboy spoke softly, and his words released the tension coiled in Alejandra's shoulders.

She pulled three coins from her skirt pocket. How many pesos was sixty cents? She laid two on the counter, then looked at the storekeeper.

He examined the coins for a moment and his brows knit, then he looked up and spat a stream of words at her. She didn't have to understand them to see the anger flaring in his eyes. The cowboy spoke to the round man in a low, commanding voice. Stronger than any he'd used with Alejandra.

The storekeeper addressed the cowboy again, his words more reluctant than angry this time. Alejandra understood only the word "money." The cowboy spoke again, determined patience slowing his words so she picked out "pay" and "cents." Was he bartering a lower price for the food? Alejandra bit back a smile. Luck had smiled on her when she met this man.

Finally, the storekeeper picked up one of her pesos and pushed the other back in her direction. He lifted the items into a small wooden crate, shoved it toward her, then spun and walked away without a word.

The cowboy turned toward her, a dissatisfied pinch lining his mouth, and spoke in her language. "He is sorry for his words." He reached for the crate, but Alejandra grabbed it first. Even though this man had been kind so far, she would hold onto her own possessions.

When they stepped outside, the man turned left onto the boardwalk in the direction they had come. He walked as if he expected her to stay with him. Where was he taking her? She needed to ask for directions to the livery, then it would be best to send him on his way.

Alejandra stopped, and a stride later he turned to look at her, brows raised.

"What's wrong?"

She squared her shoulders. "Please tell me where to find the livery, then I won't be a bother to you anymore."

Twin lines formed on his forehead. "Can I buy you lunch at the café first?"

This man wanted to give her food? No. That would be trusting him too much. And Mama Sarita waited. No, she wouldn't fill her stomach knowing Mama had not eaten yet today.

Shaking her head, Alejandra said, "No, Mama Sarita waits for me. I need to rent a horse and go back to her."

The cowboy's mouth pinched again, and he seemed reluctant as he turned back the way he had been walking. "The livery is this way."

Alejandra scurried to catch up with him, then settled into his relaxed stride.

Several moments passed before he spoke again. "Can you ride a horse?"

Alejandra's gaze jerked to him. Couldn't everyone? "Sí, but the horse is for Mama Sarita to ride."

He glanced at her with one brow raised. "Can
she
ride a horse?"

"Sí."

The way his eyes danced when he smiled was captivating. "The livery owner will need to know how long you plan to keep the horse."

Oh. She hadn't thought about how to bring the horse back to this town. Maybe after Mama Sarita was settled with her sister, Alejandra could bring the horse back, then walk to Seguin again. She nibbled her lower lip. How long would that take? Maybe this cowboy would know of the town.

"Señor, do you know how far to Seguin?"

The man's eyes widened. "Seguin? Your madre is going to Seguin?"

No need to correct his misunderstanding of her relationship with Mama Sarita, but why did he seem surprised about the town? "Sí. We're both going. Do you know how far?"

He seemed to recover himself. "It's about thirty miles. A long day's ride." He paused for a moment. "So you need two horses?"

"No. Mama Sarita rides because her foot is injured. I will walk."

Those two lines formed on his forehead again, but the man didn't answer. In fact, he remained silent as they passed two more buildings, then stopped in front of an open barn door.

~ ~ ~

Edward straightened his spine as he stepped through the wide livery door, the woman by his side. Something about her drew him in a way no other woman had. She was beautiful, to be sure. Even with streaks of dirt gracing her cheeks and jaw, her tiny features and dark eyes took his breath every time he looked at her.

It's a good thing he found her when he did. Goose bumps covered his arms every time he thought about what those lowlifes would have done with her. No woman deserved that, especially not this delicate flower beside him.

Edward scanned the barn aisle. "Malcolm?"

A head of red curls poked from a stall like a gopher from a hole in the ground. "Yep?" Recognition dawned, and he stepped out of the stall and strode toward them with long, lanky steps. "Edward. Good to see you, chap." Turning to the woman, he placed a hand across his midsection and bent slightly in a half bow. "Hallo, miss." Malcolm's tone picked up a hint of his Scottish ancestry as he spoke the words.

"Malcom, this lady needs to rent a buggy or wagon for a week or two. What do you have for her?"

The man's thick red brows lowered until they covered half his eyes. "Afraid all my buggies are out right now, 'scept the Doc's, but I can't give you that." His brows rose again as he turned to Edward. "Will a wagon do?"

Edward gave a single nod. "Fine. I'll settle up with you once we get the lady on her way. Good?"

Malcolm spun and charged his lanky form back down the aisle. "I'll have 'em ready afore you can sneeze. Meet you around front."

Edward bit back a smile at his friend's enthusiasm. Turning to the woman at his side, something in his stomach tightened at the sight. She nibbled her lower lip again. It was the cutest habit, one she appeared to do any time she was thinking or worried. And this time it looked to be worry. A single line marred the beautiful skin of her forehead. Everything in him wanted to take away whatever it was that concerned her.

He lowered his voice to a gentle tone and switched to Spanish. "He's gone to hitch a team to the wagon."

Her dark eyes widened into horror. "No! No wagon. I can only afford a horse. Or a donkey. No wagon." Her words tumbled out so quickly he had to focus to interpret the steady barrage.

Out of instinct, he reached to settle a hand on her shoulder. Something to calm her down. But the anger that sparked in her eyes as she leaped backward made him jerk his hand away quicker than a snake could strike.

"Don't worry." He kept his voice calm, but his mind reeled faster than a thrown lariat. And then an explanation came to him.

"You don't have to pay. The owner needs the wagon delivered to the livery in Seguin, so he would consider it a favor if you drove it there. No charge." His conscience revolted at the lie, but what else could he say? He had to get her to take the wagon. Seguin was way too far to walk, and it didn't seem like she would accept a gift. An innocent lie couldn't hurt if it was spoken to help someone, right? The same way he'd added her food to his tab at the mercantile when ol' Harry refused to accept her Mexican coin. But still, an uneasy weight settled over him.

The expression on her face changed to wary scrutiny. Would she accept the gift? His chest tightened as he waited.

A slight nod of her cute pointed chin gave her decision. Tension slid from Edward's body as he watched the movement. The relief that flowed through him was a little unnerving. Why did it matter so much to him what happened to this woman? Sure, she was beautiful, and vulnerable, and obviously in need of help. Maybe he was so protective because he came upon her when those thugs attacked. If he could be assured she and her mother had a safe ride to Seguin, with food to eat until they arrived, that would be enough. But what would they do when they got there?

He chose his words carefully. "Are you going to visit family in Seguin?"

She nodded. "Mama Sarita's sister lives there with her husband."

Another wave of relief. "My sister and her husband own a ranch outside of town. Perhaps I'll see you there sometime."

The sound of a wagon outside the open doorway grabbed Edward's attention, and he led the woman toward the team as Malcom stepped down from the seat. She scrambled up before he could do more than touch her elbow.

"You know how to drive a rig, ma'am?" Malcolm eyed her.

She didn't answer, but looked at him with that line creasing her forehead again.

With a jolt, Edward realized she didn't understand. He quickly translated. Never before had he been so thankful for all the Spanish he'd learned from the cowboys on his brother-in-law's ranch. He'd be hard-pressed to find a better group of vaqueros.

Upon hearing the question, the woman turned a radiant smile on Malcolm and took up the reins. She responded in Spanish. "Sí. Papa taught me many skills with horses. I'll deliver the wagon to Seguin as you ask."