Epilogue (Book One)

    Belle and Elizabeth traveled by train back to the Roma area, and went by stagecoach back to the town itself. There, they decided that Belle would move to the ranch with Elizabeth. The two had become close friends during their journey, and did not want to separate. Belle had also decided that she wanted to live a different kind of life, and was eager to try her hand at the healthy living of a ranch. For her part, Elizabeth was happy to have another friend at the ranch, and welcomed another helping hand. Belle was to help with cooking, cleaning, and entertaining, as well as the running of the business.

After several months, Belle wrote back to Roma and arranged to sell her business to one of the other ladies in the house. She moved into a more permanent room in Elizabeth’s ranch house, and began caring for some of the younger children. She also took over the bookkeeping, to give Elizabeth more time with her horses and children.

A couple of other ladies in Belle’s house moved to Elizabeth’s ranch as well, offering to help with cooking, cleaning and gardening. Elizabeth welcomed them with open arms, knowing that there was always enough work to go around, and thinking that it might be good idea to have more women around when men stayed in the lodging house. She did not encourage prostitution, but knew that a man enjoyed a woman’s company when he was eating and drinking. She encouraged the women to educate themselves through reading and writing, so that they could have intelligent conversations with the travelers. As her household grew, Elizabeth’s reputation as a hostess increased. Before long, her ranch had become a destination for travelers, as Roberto had hoped it would be.

Will returned to Boston and focused on healing his shoulder. He and Elizabeth continued their correspondence, planning to see each other as soon as possible. As the months crawled past, they began to make real plans for their reunion.

Will and Elizabeth Travel to New Orleans (Book One, Chapter Twelve)

    Two weeks went by while Will and Marshall Rainey searched for a short-term sheriff for the town. They interviewed many men, and finally found two that they thought would serve as sheriff and deputy. As time went on, the marshall would judge the men and decide whether they should become the permanent lawmen in the area.

Elizabeth spent her time volunteering at Will’s house. She put herself in charge of sorting through his things and setting aside what she thought he would want. She kept for him the picture of him and Mary, and put some of Mary’s handkerchiefs in the pile of Will’s belongings, but decided that the rest should go. Too many of Mary’s goods would only bring pain and longing, she thought. Arrangements were made for the rest of the furniture, and all of Mary’s belongings, to be sold. Will did not need to be reminded of the house or its tragic end, and she thought that he would prefer to have the money for his journey.

Will arranged to leave by stagecoach at the end of his two-week stay, and told the town of his plans. He also asked Belle to accompany him and Elizabeth on this next leg of the journey. Elizabeth and Belle had become close over the two weeks in town, and he thought that it would be better for Elizabeth to have company on the way home from New Orleans. When he told her of his plans, she laughed at him; how like him, she said, to think of her safety when he had his own healing to worry about.

When the coach arrived, the entire town turned out to say goodbye. Will, though, was nowhere to be found. Belle asked around, and found that no one had seen him since the day before. Frowning, she turned to Elizabeth, who smiled gently.

“He has gone to his property to say goodbye to his wife,” she said softly. “He left yesterday with the memorial marker, saying that he would rather put it up on his own. I haven’t seen him since then, though he promised that he would be back in time for the stage.”

The people busied themselves with packing the luggage onto the stage, and waited. They put Elizabeth’s bags on the roof, and followed those with Belle’s own bags. Elizabeth had packed all of Will’s belongings into several bags, and handed these to the stagecoach driver as well.

When Will arrived, he looked tired and dirty, but had lost some of the tension around his mouth and eyes. He hugged Elizabeth, then turned and hugged Belle, and handed his horse to a woman standing near him.  

“Belva, you are Roy’s sister. I believe that you will give my horse the best care possible. Take good care of him, though, for I’ll be back to claim him before too long.” Belva blushed and started to cry, but nodded through her tears.

Will turned to the people in the crowd and smiled. “Thank you all for your kindness and friendship. Please write me in Boston. I will see you soon.” Then he turned to Belle and Elizabeth. “Ladies, shall we?”

Nodding, both women stepped up into the stagecoach, ready for the next part of their journey together.

Will and Elizabeth Return to Roma (Book One, Chapter Eleven)

    Elizabeth and Will traveled for almost two weeks to reach Roma, surrounded by the large group of armed men. The two rode in the covered wagon, which slowed them down, taking turns with driving and sleeping, and spoke relentlessly during their journey. They continued their life stories and talked about what they planned to do with the future. Most importantly, they talked about whether they would ever meet again. By the time they reached Roma, Elizabeth felt that she had found a friend for life, and had little doubt about maintaining contact. She knew that she and Will would meet again someday, and looked forward to it.

Victor and Martin took special interest in Elizabeth, as a white woman who managed and ran a ranch. They spent their time picking her brain about her horses and dogs, and asking her opinion on different cattle and sheep in the area. They decided that she needed to know how to shoot a bow and arrow, and took it upon themselves to teach her. Elizabeth agreed, laughing, and told them that she would be happy to learn, and that it was always a good idea for a woman to know how to defend herself in various ways. She did what she could to return the favor, teaching them some Spanish songs about love, children, and good horses. These men, too, became Elizabeth’s lifelong friends.

*********************

When they rode into Roma, the group found that the entire town had gathered to welcome them. The scouts outside of the town had seen them approaching and recognized some of the men in the marshall’s party. They had also recognized Will riding in the covered wagon, wearing his unique and identifiable hat, which had a thin white band around the base. When the wagon stopped amid the women, children, and men of the town, the questions began to fly. Will laughed and answered as many as he could, telling the people where he’d been, what had happened, and how he was. His face stilled when people asked about Roy, though, and he passed on the news of Roy’s death with a sorry face. He introduced Elizabeth and the men from her ranch, telling the townspeople that this woman and her children had saved his life, and asking that the people of the town make them welcome.

“Bienvenidos!” someone called from the crowd. The voice was echoed by several other voices and a smattering of applause.

The Mexican ranch hands nodded solemnly at the crowd, tipping their hats.

After an hour of answering questions and telling his story, Will put a hand to his head. 

“Good people, we have been on the road for some time, and some of us are not as well as others. Let’s adjourn this meeting for now and agree to meet again tomorrow, for I need to go home and rest. I’ll oversee a town meeting at nine tomorrow morning in the town hall. The marshall and I will answer more of your questions then.”

A young girl in the crowd jumped up and down, waving to get Will’s attention. “What about school, Sheriff?”

Will laughed. “Well, Tracy, I think you can probably talk to your teacher about that. She may see her way to letting you skip school, seeing as how we have an important meeting planned.”

The girl turned to a small woman next to her, looking up earnestly. “Is that okay, Mrs. Olson?” she asked quietly.

The woman nodded, smiling down at the girl. “You can come to class after the meeting, Tracy,” she answered kindly.

Will smiled in return, nodding to the school teacher in thanks.

Elizabeth laughed as Will turned away. “You seem to have some big fans in the town.”

“It happens when you live among people long enough,” he shrugged. “That girl – Tracy – is one of kids I saved during the tornado. You get close to people in situations like that.”

Rancho Arroyo receives two Guests from Roma, Texas (Book One, Chapter 10)

    Several weeks after Will shot himself, the ranch had a number of curious visitors. A man with a marshall’s badge and a shock of white hair rode into the ranch with two Indian men. The marshall addressed the ranch hands in Spanish, telling them that they were there on friendly business, and asking for the owner of the ranch. One of the children went running for Elizabeth.

“Who does he say he is, Felipe?” she asked, as she and Will followed the child back to the main ranch house. “Has he said what he wants?”

“No, Tía,” Felipe answered. “Just that they were here on business and wanted to see you.”

When they got to the main ranch house, Elizabeth asked Will to wait in one of the side rooms. She worried that an injured American in her home might make the marshall suspicious and even aggressive, and she didn’t want to take any chances. Better to find out what the man wanted on her own. She ran her hands quickly through her hair and along her clothing, and made her way into the main room, holding her hand out in greeting. 

“Hello gentlemen, I am Elizabeth Arroyo, the manager and co-owner of Rancho Arroyo. What can I do for you?”

The man with the white hair stepped forward, surprise written on his face. “An American woman? You are the manager of this ranch?” he asked.

Elizabeth nodded, raising one eyebrow. “I am, yes. What can I do for you, sir?”

The man cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t mean to be rude. I don’t expect to see Americans this far south of the border. Let me introduce myself. My name is Marshall Rick Rainey from the town of Rio Grande City, in Texas, and these men are Victor and Martin Longoria. They are Comecrudos, also from Texas. My friends and I are looking for two of our associates. We tracked them into your small woodland, where we found remnants of an old campfire, shell casings, several hasty graves, and wagon tracks leading this way. None of these graves belonged to our friends, though, and we wonder if you might have some news for us.”

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. “I believe I may, Marshall. Who exactly are you looking for?”

“Their names are Sheriff Will Austin and Deputy Roy Blackford, both of Roma, Texas.”

Elizabeth’s smile grew larger. “Will Austin has been here for several weeks. He was involved in a gunfight with some outlaws in my woodland, and nearly died. He had lost much blood when my children found him. I’m afraid his deputy was not so lucky; he is buried in our graveyard, behind the main house.” She turned to the child standing next to her. “Felipe, will you go get Will, por favor(italics)? These men are his friends, and would like to see him.”

The boy ran out of the room and returned within minutes, towing Will behind him. Elizabeth smiled, noting that the stubborn man had left his cane behind in his rush to see his friends. He was limping, but walking much better than she could have imagined. His face broke into a smile when he saw the three men behind her.

Elizabeth Shows Will Her Spot Overlooking a Valley (Book One, Chapter 9)

The next day, Elizabeth drove Will up into the hills near her home. He was too weak to go by horse, but the wagon ride gave her a chance to explain where they were going. “When Roberto died, I was beside myself,” she told him, steering the wagon carefully around a turn in the road. “I did not have the luxury of time to deal with my grief, though, as I was pregnant with Enrique. I did not have time to stop living or abandon those around me. I tried to continue my life as though nothing had happened, but found myself breaking down in tears several times every day – sometimes at the worst possible moment. At one point, I was out with some of my hands, gathering the sheep for the night. I was overcome with grief, and fell from my horse, hurting myself and almost killing the baby. I knew then that I had to find a way to recover.

“One of my close friends told me that when her father died, she had gone up into the hills to spend time on her own. She had come across a bluff, where she could see for miles down the valley. The area had been quiet and solitary, but never lonely. She told me that she felt she could commune with nature in this place. When she described it, I realized that I needed a place like that – a place to be by myself, and to listen to my heart. A place where I could start to heal. I found a place like that on our ranch, and, at first, spent an entire day by myself. Eventually, my heart started to mend itself, and I saw where I needed to go. I had found my path.”

Elizabeth paused, giving Will time to understand what she had said. “I think that this is what you need, Will. A place where your heart and soul can begin to mend.”

They travelled in silence for some time, and then turned off the main road. Elizabeth helped Will down from the wagon and supported him as they walked the short way into the clearing. 

“I will leave you alone for a while,” Elizabeth told him, nodding at the grass. “There are plenty of soft places to sit here, and plenty of room for thinking. I’ve brought food for us to eat later. I’ll be over there if you need me.” She turned and walked away, leaving Will on his own.

Will took a deep breath as he watched her walk away, inhaling the sharp tang of the vegetation around him, and breathing the very sunshine. He closed his eyes for a moment and sent his senses out, but found only quiet and peace; Elizabeth was right – this was a place for healing. He turned to his left and gasped at what he saw. The entire world lay before him – miles and miles of plains, forests, and ranch land. A fine mist covered the land near the base of the hills, but the land beyond that was bathed in rich, warm yellow sun. The creek on Elizabeth’s property was a sparkling jewel, while her large ranch houses looked like children’s toys. His eyes ran across her fields of corn, reveling in the gentle swaying of the stalks. Beyond that he could see her horses and sheep, and beyond that the wooded line where her own forest began. The clearing must sit on the very edge of the hills, he thought, to give him this view.

Will sat down slowly, careful not to stretch or turn his thigh, and let the beauty and enormity of the place wash over him. His was but a small life, he realized, compared to this view. Compared to the world at large, his own world – and the problems he held there – were small and insignificant. His grief was real and incredibly painful to him, but it was also just a small part of the world around him. If he found a way to heal, it would be only a small part of his own story.

He turned to look for Elizabeth and found her sitting on a large boulder, her face turned to the sun and her eyes closed. This woman wanted to help him get better, he thought. She had put her time and heart into his care, and he had repaid her by trying to give it all up. What she deserved, though, was someone who returned to her the same strength she had shown him, and the same open communication he had given her in his first days here.

Suddenly Will wanted to talk again. He wanted to tell Elizabeth everything that he had been feeling, and the thoughts that had driven him to the edge of madness. He had never believed in people who shared their feelings before, but the thought of keeping them to himself – of keeping all that sorrow buried in his own soul – became unbearable.

“Elizabeth,” he said softly, afraid that she might be asleep.

Her eyes flew open, surprised, then gentled as she saw that he was unharmed. “Yes?” she asked.

“I believe I am ready for some lunch,” he answered, smiling. “And I would like to talk, if you are willing to listen.”

Will Falls into Deep Depression (Book One, Chapter Eight)

Will sighed, looking out the window. He had been here over a week, and still couldn’t walk on his own. His thigh wound was healing, and he could see that the leg wasn’t infected, but the shoulder wound was still open and seeping. It still ached constantly, though Elizabeth was giving him medication for the physical pain.

As much as she had tried, she could do nothing for the emotional pain. Will had realized how depressed he was earlier, when he had finished his story. Elizabeth had spent a lot of time in ranch work, and he understood that there were other things she needed to do – she had a large ranch to run, and could not sit for days on end speaking to her guest. Still, her work meant that he had been left alone. The solitude was playing games with his mind, and he had taken to replaying the events of the last few months over and over, trying to find a different answer. The unhappiness of his marriage to Mary, then her death, and his tumble into alcoholism. The search for the Gomez brothers; his unwillingness to listen to Roy, and then the attack from the gang itself. He had now convinced himself that he could have saved Mary if he’d only tried harder, and that Roy would still be alive – and with him – if he’d only listened. The weight of both of their deaths leaned heavily on his conscience, and kept him from sleeping at night. He was growing more exhausted with every passing day, and falling deeper into a chasm of guilt and despair.

In his moments of practicality, Will knew that these thoughts and feelings were ridiculous, and that they were only doing more harm. His depression was probably keeping him from healing adequately; instead of being up and out in the sunshine, where the warmth and fresh air would tend to his wounds, he spent his time in his room, becoming obsessed with the past.

Will looked around the room now, searching for something to take his mind from his thoughts of Mary. He had asked for more books, and received them, but had found that they couldn’t hold his interest. He needed something to do with his hands, something that could occupy both body and mind, so that he could stop thinking…

As he gazed around the room, Will noticed his gun belt sitting on the table in the corner. Elizabeth had told him that she didn’t believe in leaving guns around the ranch, and preferred to store them in their holsters and in drawers, so that the children wouldn’t get at them. She had realized, though, that he would worry about his possessions, and would want to know that he could defend himself if need be. So she had left his gun in his room, which was found at the campsite, and where he could see it. At the time, he had thought that she was being generous.

Now he wished desperately that she had moved it.

He had been looking at the gun for less than a minute when the idea came to him. He was a useless man, lying here in bed. He could not move by himself, had to have his meals brought to him, and needed help just to reach the outhouse. He would never have his job back if he couldn’t ride or shoot, and the feeling still hadn’t come back in his right hand. His wife had been shot, and the people in the town had stopped trusting him. He had no home to which he could return, and no one who would watch over him. The worst of it was, he realized, that he felt himself to be a drain on Elizabeth’s household. She did not have time to nurse him back to health, and she wouldn’t thank him for living as a cripple on her ranch.

His gun, which had gone with him on so many adventures, and saved his life so many times, might do him one last service. This might be the way out of his current situation.

He would have difficulty getting to the table, true, but he thought that he could do it with time. He would have to load and aim the gun using only his left hand, since his right hand was useless. He would have to find the strength to squeeze the trigger, and he might be discovered and stopped before he could do any of this.

But if he succeeded … if he found the strength to do these things … he would be free. Finished with the guilt and the worry and the sorrow.

He was pulling himself up and trying to stand before he realized that he’d made his decision. The table was several steps from the bed, but his thigh was healing and did its best to support his weight. He fell the short distance toward the table, and pulled himself up to sit in one of the chairs. Loading the gun with one hand was one of the most difficult things he had ever done, but he bit his lip, concentrated, and finished the loading process. Someone walked by outside, then, and he stilled, holding his breath. If they caught him now, he would lose many of his privileges, and he did not want to disappoint Elizabeth. The footsteps outside strode past, though, and he began to breathe again. Safe, for the moment.

Will raised the gun quickly to his head. The quicker he was, he thought, the less chance there would be of anyone stopping him. It was difficult to hold the gun up, weak as he was, and his hand began to tremble and sweat. He pressed the nozzle of the gun roughly against his temple, tried to calm the shaking, and pulled the trigger before he could think any farther.

Will Tells About How He Ends up in Mexico on Rancho Arroyo Chasing the Gomez Gang (Book One, Chapter Seven, Section 2)

    “Two days later I received a telegram from one of my contacts across the border. It said the Gomez Gang had escaped from prison two weeks before. The Mexican prison hadn’t had a telegraph system, and so hadn’t been able to contact anyone for help, or to warn them.

    “When I read the telegram, I knew that the Gomez Gang had done this. They had come for me, and had found instead my Mary, defenseless and probably still asleep. They had killed her for what I had done, which made this – to my mind – my own fault. I fought with myself about what would have happened if I had stayed, instead of going hunting. Would I have been able to save her? Would they have taken me instead, and left her alive, or would they have killed me, then abused her and killed her afterward? My practical side told me that they would have killed us both. My emotional side insisted on blaming myself though, and led me to believe that Mary’s death was my fault.”

    That emotional side had led to Will’s quick descent into Hell. He’d drank everything in sight, seeking the oblivion the alcohol brought with it, and stopped doing his job. He hadn’t admitted it to anyone else, but he’d still felt like an outsider in Roma. He had come from the East Coast, and didn’t think he’d ever fit in to Texas. Now his paranoia increased, leading him to believe that everyone was against him. Everyone blamed him for Mary’s death. People did not think that he’d be able to defend the town. People were afraid that the Gomez Gang would come back to the town, and that he’d be defenseless.

“By the end of the week, I’d worked myself into quite a state,” he finished. “I believed that the only way to prove myself – the only way to convince anyone that I was worth anything – was to go after the Gomez Gang myself, and stop them. And I was drunk enough to do it.”

He had gathered his guns and two of his horses, and told his deputy that he was going to find the Gomez Gang. Roy had been loyal – and faithful – enough to come with him. Before they’d left, though, Roy had insisted on wiring Marshall Rainey in Rio Grande City, updating him on the events of the last week and letting him know that they were going after the Gomez Gang. Will hadn’t understood why this was important, but Roy had insisted that the marshall be informed of their plans. The marshall needed to know that the Gomez Gang was on the loose again, at the very least, and that they had attacked and killed someone. Roy took advantage of the communication and asked Marshall Rainey to come to Mexico after them and bring Victor and Martin Longoria. These were two of Will’s Comecrudo friends, and specialized in tracking anything that moved. Will had argued, but Roy had pointed out that they were going to be tracking outlaws outside their home country, without any help, and that neither of them were well known for their tracking abilities.

Presented with this fact, Will had relented and allowed Roy to write whatever he wanted in the telegram.

“Roy and I hit the road and hightailed it down to Mexico. We knew that they would have come back down here, probably to the town where they lived, to avoid prosecution in the US. If we’d caught them again up there, they’d have had a date with the hangman’s noose, make no mistake. Down here, though, we’d have to go through different routes, and I didn’t plan to involve the Mexican government. I assumed that if we found the gang, I could kill their leader, Pedro, and put an end to it. I didn’t think that any of the others would be strong enough to control the group without him. I didn’t think through the plan, of course, but I figured that we’d come up with something. I was still drinking heavily, and being more of a burden to Roy than anything else, I’m afraid.

“Roy is an extremely true friend, and did his best to take care of me. He told me that he didn’t think I was thinking clearly at the time, though I didn’t hear him. Over the next two weeks of tracking, he also told me that he believed we were going in circles. He thought that the Gomez Gang was leading us on the wrong trail, trying to get us confused. I disagreed, of course, but I had no idea what I was talking about. When I finally sobered up enough to notice that we were backtracking – covering the same ground over and over – we were three weeks from home. We agreed to camp for a night and put together a new plan. My brain had finally kicked back into gear, and I knew that we were going about this in the wrong way.”

That afternoon, though, they had been unable to find an appropriate place to make camp. They found their way into a forest, looking for a campsite, and then couldn’t find the way out. Instead of pushing on to find a wide-open camping spot, they had given up and chosen a clearing in the forest. The site had made both Will and Roy nervous, as it would be easy for someone to sneak up on them, but they’d had no choice. They’d taken turns standing watch throughout the night.

“The next morning, when we were having our coffee and putting together our plan, our worst fears were realized. Pedro Gomez and his gang came strolling out of the trees, laughing about the fact that they had caught us flat-footed. We were caught completely unaware, with nothing but our pistols at hand. Pedro made the most of it, laughing at us and telling me every detail about what they had done to Mary.

“I let him, thinking that if he talked long enough, he might give Roy and me an opening to escape or get the first shots in. I knew that if we shot first, we would each get two shots in, and that they would be killing shots. I also knew, though, that there were five of them and two of us, and that we would be dead by the time we shot again. We had to find a way to get the jump on them, kill all five before they knew what was happening.

“So I raised my hands and pretended that I was giving up. ‘Five against two,’ I told them. ‘No contest, you win.’ Roy looked at me like I had lost my mind, then realized what I was doing and started to play along. He argued with me, telling me that I was crazy, and I shouted back. Pedro could probably understand most of what we were saying, but I doubt that anyone else could. They could tell that we were arguing, though, and thought it was very funny. They all began to laugh at us, including Pedro. When I saw that, it took me two-seconds to reach into my belt, grab my gun, and put a bullet in Pedro’s forehead. My other shot went into Santos, the second in command. Roy took out Zenon and aimed at Galeno. He missed, though, and Galeno shot him instead.

“Roy dropped like a shot, dead, and one of the other guys shot me in the chest before I could get another shot off. As they rode away, they shot again – this time the bullet went into my thigh. I dropped next to Roy, and hit the ground hard. I could feel the blood pumping out of my chest, and running from my thigh wound, and I didn’t think I’d last long. We hadn’t shot quickly enough, and now we were both going to pay for it. I was sorry about Roy, but I wasn’t scared to die. My thoughts were of Mary, and the fact that she was gone. I didn’t have anything to live for, and it would be a hell of a lot easier to be dead, but I hated that some of the men responsible for her death – and mine – were still out there. That they would kill and rape again. I knew that they didn’t deserve to live – they should have been behind bars!”

Will paused and looked up at Elizabeth. “That thought kept me alive. If I didn’t put them behind bars, who would? I had to survive, you see, to avenge my wife’s death. I had to live, to catch those men. I closed my eyes, trying to conserve my strength, and when I opened them again I saw your daughter leaning over me.”

Will Tells About Meeting Mary (Book One, Chapter Seven)

Chapter Seven

    Will smiled. “Well, my life wasn’t only about catching the Gomez Gang. I’d been nursing a romance of my own in Roma. Part of my daily routine as the deputy in Roma was to meet the stagecoach whenever it came into town. This started as a security measure, since we wanted to know who was coming and going from the town. It turned into something of a tradition for the sheriff to meet the stagecoach and greet new people to the town, though. As time went on, other sheriffs started doing the same thing. 

“Abigail Charles, one of our most venerable citizens and our town’s seamstress, told me one week that her daughter was scheduled to be arriving on the stagecoach. The girl had been born in Roma and then moved to New York, where she went to school and lived with relatives of her father. She had gone on to go to college at Syracuse University, and was now in medical school. She was coming home to visit for the first time in many years. Abigail was a particular friend of mine, and I’d known her husband Levi before he died.

“I knew Mary immediately. She had Abigail’s green eyes, and had the look of a city girl. She was also the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was dressed for the city, in very feminine traveling gown. I noted that she hadn’t worn any jewelry, though, and took this to mean that she understand the dangers of being robbed on the road. She had her long, light brown hair tied up, with sensible boots on her feet. She got off the stagecoach and looked around with a great sense of joy, her eyes flying everywhere at once. I wondered if she remembered the area or if this was her first impression of Roma.

“I waited first for Abigail and Mary’s brother, Randolph, to greet her – they had both come with me to meet the stagecoach – and then marched right up and introduced myself. I’ll never forget the way I felt when her eyes turned to meet mine. I felt as though she saw straight through to my soul, and decided immediately whether she would like me or not. She must have decided that she did, for she smiled, curtseyed, and took my hand. She had brought her friend, Victoria, with her, and I walked with them back to Abigail’s home. To be honest, though, I didn’t want to let the girl out of my sight. I was already infatuated with her. Abigail must have seen that, because she asked me to stop in the next day to show them around town, and of course I agreed.

Elizabeth Tells Will How She Met Roberto (Book One, Chapter Six, Section 2)

    “First, though, I went to school. I started going to Waco Female College in Waco, Texas, in 1871, and graduated in four years. I specialized in English literature and writing, which was my particular passion. I made very good grades and stood out as one of the most accomplished students in my class. When I graduated I found work immediately – as a teacher back in San Antonio. I taught for only one year, however.”

“What happened?” Will asked breathlessly.

“My life changed, and I moved on,” Elizabeth answered, a merry twinkle in her eye. “I had been teaching for several months when my family decided to attend a large barn raising and party in the area. Of course my friends and I decided that we would go alone – it was a chance to dress up, dance, and meet eligible men in our area. We donned our finest party gowns – which were nothing to see, I can assure you, as we teachers were very poor – and turned out for the barn raising. The men worked on the framing and walls while we girls talked, drank punch, and chose possible mates. I would never have guessed that I was looking at my future husband that night.

“Roberto was there on a business trip from Mexico. He was from an old and established Mexican family, who owned a cattle and horse ranch just south of the border. He was the oldest son, and would get a share of the family business when his father retired. He’d been sent north to meet some of the family’s business associates and learn about buying horses. As luck would have it, one of the men he was there to meet was my uncle.

“We spent a couple of hours watching each other before we were introduced. He was a very handsome man, darker than anyone I had ever met, and about five years older than me. He was dressed cleanly, but not in the traditional rancher’s garb like everybody else in the room. His dress was more formal. Mexican men adore dressing up, you see, and Robert loved it more than most. He would take any excuse to wear his finest clothing, and I suppose a barn raising – where he would see eligible young ladies – was all the reason he needed that night. I will never forget the color of his suit. It was a deep burgundy velvet, the color of blood, and it stood out in the crowd. His boots were shiny black, his thick, dark hair was neatly combed back and he had a glitter in his smile. Some of the girls thought that he was dressed too formally, and didn’t like the look of the traditional Mexican dress. I found it both beautiful and intriguing, myself, and couldn’t take my eyes from him. His willingness to stand out just made him more attractive to me – I had never fit in with others of my own age or sex, and his individuality made me think that he would understand my need to be different. When he asked me to dance, I agreed.”

Elizabeth smiled, remembering that bright week in the Spring of 1877. Roberto had been in town for only two more days, but the two had become inseparable during that time. They’d danced the night away at the barn raising, then made plans to meet for breakfast the next morning. They had spent the day exploring the area, meeting with different horse brokers for Roberto, and touring her aunt and uncle’s farm. Roberto was interested in her mind, and fascinated with her knowledge of horses. She had taken him into the foothills to show him the view around the town, and shared her dreams about horse ranches and children.

“By the time he left, we knew that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together,” Elizabeth remembered softly. “I wrote him three or four letters a week for the next two months, and he wrote just as often. We grew closer with this new communication – there are things you can communicate in a letter that you would never say in person, so we learned much more about each other. 

“In the Fall of that year he surprised me with another trip to San Antonio. I heard a knock on my door, and went to answer it. There was Roberto, dressed up in one of his rich suits and holding a guitar. He sang to me - a very traditional Mexican love song about a boy and a girl. After the song, he went down on his knee, held out a thin band of gold, and asked me to marry him. We were married the following year in Mexico.”