1925
Elizabeth pulled on Grace’s reins, then walked her toward the edge of the large rock outcropping that ran along the top of the ridge. In front of her was the whole valley, with the San Gabriel River winding its way down its center. This had become her valley, her home. She could just see the Western edge of the Sierra Madre Mountains off in the distance, and she knew the Rio Grande was to her north and the Gulf of Mexico to her West, but her life was what stood before her and the one hundred and fifty acres that was Rancho Arroyo.
When she had met Roberto almost fifty years ago, she never envisioned how attached she’d be to this sometimes-harsh landscape. She was proud of herself, having gone to the Waco Female College and earned her teaching degree. She had been teaching school in San Antonio just a year when the dashing Roberto Arroyo arrived looking for horse breeding stock. He was five years older than her, but it mattered little to Elizabeth, who was impressed by the horse knowledge of the handsome Mexican, his beautiful brown eyes, and a voice that resonated deep within her heart.
It was hard at first, being the only white person on the ranch. It took some time for Roberto’s family and his ranch hands to trust her. But with her knowledge of horses and her willingness to help with any task, it didn’t take long for her to feel a part of the family. And when her husband and nephew were killed by banditos, the family rallied around her, supporting her as she became the new ranch manager.
The ranch was their home, and the San Gabriel Valley was their oasis. They used the river to irrigate their corn and wheat fields. It kept their livestock alive when the rains didn’t come when they should and was a place to play on hot summer days with her children, and now her grandchildren and even a few great-grandchildren.
And now she had to leave it all. That life-giving river would soon swell and cover everything she and her husband’s family had worked toward for decades.
A tear ran down Elizabeth’s cheek.
When she looked far to her right, she could see the cause of all the impending destruction, the El Alto Grande Dam. It rose like an artificial cliff, a gray, man-made monolith that spanned one end of the valley, cutting off the river’s natural outlet. It was finally finished, and soon they would have to leave the place she now considered her home.
Elizabeth slowly dismounted. At seventy-three she still enjoyed the freedom of riding out on her own, but she had to be more careful. An unexpected fall and she might end up buried in the valley, alongside her other relatives. It wasn’t such a sad thought for Elizabeth. Sometimes she wished she would die here, but the Lord had not come for her yet. She had work to do. Which is why she had come to this spot. As the head of the Arroyo family, it was ultimately her decision where the family would end up.
She let Grace graze in the new spring grass as she walked to the edge of the rock outcrop and sat, her feet dangling over the side.
There had been a lengthy discussion that very morning, with her brother-in-law, Diego, who like her, was in his seventies, his sister-in-law Isabella, who was a few years younger, and her own children, Santiago, Pilar, and Enrique, who were all in their fifties. Santiago and Pilar had families to consider, like Diego and Isabella. But Enrique had never married so he only had himself to worry about.
Emotions had run high.
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