Pilar galloped ahead of the wagon on her horse, rushing toward the ranch. She was the faster rider, and had ridden ahead of her brother and the wagon to warn her mother and the other ranch hands about the situation. Carrying the American to the wagon had been very hard work, and she was already exhausted. She pressed on, though, fearing for the man’s life. Fearing for the possible consequences of his death. Santiago rattled along behind her, driving the wagon at a slower pace to avoid harming the already injured man.
Before long she was at the outskirts of the ranch, flying past the outbuildings, the barn, and the corrals where they held the horses. This was a large, well-established horse ranch, and took up over 500 acres on its own. Normally she found the size to be a benefit – it kept strangers away from the house at the center, and gave her plenty of areas to find privacy. Today, though, the ranch’s size was a detriment. She put her heels to her mare’s sides, asking for more speed, and began to scream for her mother.
“Mama! Mama! Necesito! Necesito!” she shouted, her eyes flying over the courtyard that served as the center of the ranch. Her mother ran the ranch with other members of her husband’s family, and had years of experience in treating injured people. She would save the American they had found. But where would she be at this time of day? Pilar hauled her horse to a stop and jumped to the ground, turning in a circle as she called.
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