Jack Marston is at a low point in his life. His family is dead, Beecher's Hope is in ruins, and he has nothing left to live for. Most days he spends so drunk he can barely remember anything, he kills and robs people at will, and there isn't an ounce...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Eva hummed quietly to herself as she brushed Mariposa's mane. The mare finally trusted Eva enough to let her lead her around and groom her, but putting a saddle on her back was another matter entirely, let alone getting her to carry a rider. "It's okay," she whispered in Spanish, stroking the mustang's silky-smooth neck. "I know it's hard to be so scared. But I promise I won't hurt you."
Mariposa nickered and snuffed her nostrils. Eva could feel the heat from her warm, moist breath in the air. "I brought you a sugar cube," she said quietly. "Would you like a treat?"
At the sound of the word "treat," Mariposa's ears pricked up and turned towards Eva. She raised her head and began sniffing Eva's dress pockets. Eva surrendered the sugar cube, and Mariposa picked it daintily from her palm. "Enjoy it, pretty girl," Eva whispered. "You deserve something sweet after all you've been through."
"You really have a way with that horse," said Jack quietly from behind her. For a moment, Eva didn't quite comprehend what he said. It was still difficult to switch her brain from Spanish to English sometimes, but after a brief pause, she realized what he'd said.
"Yes," she agreed. "It's encouraging."
Jack held out his hand to her and she took it, allowing him to pull her closer and hold her in his arms. "You were gone this morning," she said as he rested his chin on the top of her head. "Karen said you went to town. Did you find out anything about my immigration status?"
"I did," he replied. His voice was even and calm, but there was an edge of fear to it that caused fear to stir in the pit of Eva's stomach.
She swallowed and took a step back to look up at him. "And?"
He pulled her close to him again with a mixture of fear and sadness in his brown eyes. "Denied. West Elizabeth has already met its Mexican immigration quota. Now we'll have to wait all winter until you can reapply. And even then, there's no guarantee."
"Ya valí madre," Eva said as the fear in her stomach deepened into dread and bubbled over into her soul. She stared to the side as Jack held her, unblinking and looking at the rough, wooden walls of the barn. "Mario will find me now," she said in Spanish, too afraid to realize Jack couldn't understand her. "He'll find me and enslave me again, or worse."
"Darlin', I can't understand you," Jack said quietly, stroking her back. "I don't speak Spanish."
"I know," she sighed, forcing herself to remain calm so she could speak in English. "When I panic, I switch back to my native tongue because it's the one I use in my head. I have to think to speak English, and it's harder for me when I'm afraid."
"Fordham is coming tomorrow," Jack answered. "We'll figure something out. You're still safe here, Eva. I promise. I'll die for you if I have to, if it means you'll be safe."
"Please don't tell me not to be afraid," she whispered, breathing in his scent deeply. He smelled like leather and smoke and earth. Such a comforting scent could not put her fear to ease, however.
