Juan Read online

  Juan

  The Settlers Book Two

  Kathleen Ball

  Copyright © 2018 by Kathleen Ball

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  I dedicate this book to the members of my facebook readers group. Kathleen Ball Western Romance Readers. Thank you for the great input. I appreciate you.

  And as always I dedicate this to Bruce, Steven, Colt, Clara, Emery and Mavis because I love them.

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  The End

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  We’ve Only Just Begun

  WOJB Chapter Two

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kathleen

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  The Greatest Gift

  By Kathleen Ball

  Get you free copy of “The Greatest Gift”

  When you sign up for the author’s VIP mailing list

  Upon hearing screams, handsome rancher, Foster O’Donnell races to his barn and finds a stranger giving birth. When he tells her his name, she screams he can’t be Foster O’Donnell. Foster O’Donnell is the father of her baby. Can Christmas change their mutual distrust? Will Foster and Ginger find The Greatest Gift?

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  Chapter One

  Bone-weary, Juan left the waning daylight behind him and trudged into his house, savoring the peacefulness that surrounded him as he lit a lamp. He was dusty from chasing horses all day and couldn’t wait to wash the day’s work off. He’d gathered quite a herd so far though, and soon he and his brother Greg would be training them and then selling them to the Cavalry. It felt life changing to have his own place and be starting his own ranch.

  A half-eaten loaf of bread sat on his table, and he quickly drew his gun. The loaf had been untouched when he’d left that morning. He turned in a circle, looking for the culprit. No one lived out this far and that was how Juan liked it. He was tired of people staring at him with disdain on their faces because he was Mexican. Under the Oregon law, he was legally considered white, but no one cared about the law. Only about his dark skin.

  He relaxed and put his gun back into its holster. No one else was in the small house. Someone had been there, though, and it wasn’t the first time. He narrowed his gaze as he took in his surroundings, certain he’d had more cans of beans stacked on the pantry shelf, and his bag of coffee beans seemed lighter than it should be. Someone was stealing from him.

  He frowned. He couldn’t allow a low-down thief take his things. The fellow needed to work for his food. Juan worked from sun up to sun down to make his way. That was how things were supposed to work. Perhaps he should set a trap. He picked up a knife and sliced up the remaining bread. He had some butter his brother’s wife, Mercy had given him, and he spread it on the slices.

  After he put the bread on his tin plate, he sat at the wooden table his pa had made. He stopped frowning, thinking of his adopted ma and pa. They’d adopted a whole slew of orphans, including him and his real brother Carlos.

  He took another bite of his bread and smiled. Mercy had promised him some blackberry jam soon. He could almost imagine the taste, but she was so busy with her baby Hannah, it might take a while for her to get around to making the sweet treat. Generally he didn’t care much for babies, but Hannah had won his heart. She’d been born a bit early and was so tiny that he thought for sure she wouldn’t make it. But that little sweetheart had pulled through.

  The cry of a child startled him. It was coming from his bedroom. What the heck? He pushed his chair back and rushed toward the cries. He should have checked the bedroom before. The baby stopped its crying. The clink of Juan’s spurs and the thud of his feet became the only sound in the room as he strode across the plank floor. His ma would have given him a scowl for keeping them on, but he never took them off in his own house.

  He opened the door slowly with his gun in his hand. “Come on out. I know you’re in here.”

  His eyes widened when he saw Sonia Wist step forward with her baby boy. She looked terrified. And she was hurt. There were bruises on her face and a fresh cut on her bottom lip was bleeding. Her dress had seen better days, and her dark hair had been cut short.

  He put his gun away. She looked like a frightened filly that had been beaten. “Hi, Sonia. Come sit at the table and I can make a real dinner.”

  She shook her head and backed up until her back was against the wall.

  “It’ll be fine. Besides I bet your boy is hungry.” Just then the little boy wailed.

  With frantic motions, Sonia tried to get the young child to hush.

  “It’s going to be just fine, Sonia,” Juan said in as comforting a tone as he could muster. “Your baby is hungry. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  She stared at him for a long time before she nodded her head and then took a step forward. “I’m—I’m sorry I broke into your home. It’s not the first time. Please don’t be mad.”

  He held out his hand to her. “I don’t care about missing food. I do care about you and your son. Come, sit down. I’ll make you some eggs and then I’ll tend to your cuts.”

  While holding her son in one arm she reached up and touched her lip, wincing. Finally she nodded.

  Juan backed up slowly, giving her enough space so she wouldn’t feel as nervous. He could see her body shaking. “Here,” he said as he pulled out a chair for her. “I’ll light the stove. I hope you’re not too cold. I didn’t think to make a fire for myself, but it is chilly tonight.”

  Juan walked to the stove and smiled as he heard her sit down. He squatted in front of the cook stove and fiddled with it until it was lit. Maybe he should go and get Mercy to look at Sonia. He bet she had more bruises than were visible.

  “I have some milk for the little one. I’m surprised Mercy didn’t see you when she left it and the eggs for me. What’s his name?” Juan poured milk into a tin cup and put it onto the table.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Then she cleared her throat. “His name is Brent.”

  “That’s a fine name. Didn’t you marry that Roger fellow?”

  “He’s dead, and his father came to claim his property. He thought that included me and my son.” She kept her gaze on Brent as she gave him small amounts of milk at a time.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. How long has your husband been dead?”

  “He was shot out of his saddle two months ago. We had a small shack, and his father moved right in the day Roger died.”

  “That’s a tough break. I’m sorry to hear about Roger. What’s his father’s name?” Juan turned to the stove and fried some eggs along with some bacon.

  “Wendell Plank. He doesn’t like me very much.” The sadness and fear in her voice got to him.

  He wasn’t sure if he could believe her, though. When she was first pregnant she had tried to claim that his brother Greg was the father. Greg being the good man he was had almost married her. She finally came clean, revealing that the baby’s father was a peddler who’d come through town and promised Sonia he’d take her away.

  “What about your parents? Won’t they help you?”

  She hung her head but remained silent.

  He put the food on two plates and then placed them on the table; one for him and one for her. “Here we go.” Juan sat down, waiting
for her to answer him.

  “This is very kind of you, Juan,” she murmured, pink blooming in her cheeks. “My parents say that I’m dead to them.”

  He didn’t know what to say, so he ate and watched while she fed Brent the milk and ate too. Soon Brent closed his eyes, and his head flopped against Sonia’s shoulder.

  “You can put him on my bed if you like. I can put two rolled up blankets on either side of him so he doesn’t fall off.”

  Her surprise pleased him. She almost smiled at him but nodded instead, and then she took Brent into the bedroom.

  He breathed a sigh of relief that she was in the other room. What the blazes was he supposed to do with her? It was too dark out to take her to Brian and Mercy’s house.

  Sonia put Brent on the bed with the two rolled blankets on either side of him. What was to become of her and her son? Her parents suggested she give the baby away and then find a job in the saloon. Tears pricked her eyes at the thought. That was probably her only option now. Well, either that or beg on the streets. She didn’t have enough energy left to continue stealing food and sleeping in the barn.

  Thank goodness Juan wasn’t angry with her. She wouldn’t be able to take one more beating from a disgruntled man. Her body ached and she hadn’t been able to produce milk for her child. It’s a wonder he survived. She wasn’t a good mother, she was just all dried up.

  She stared down at her baby. He looked more like her than his father, and she was glad. That no good liar deserved to be hanged. He’d probably done this to other girls in the towns he passed through. Now she lived in shame and fear.

  Her hands shook, and she clasped them in front of her to stop the movement as she took slow steps out of the bedroom. She closed the door, leaving it cracked open so she could hear if Brent started to fuss. Unsure what to do next, she turned and stared at the floor. The heat of Juan’s gaze settled over her, and she couldn’t look at him.

  “Sonia, take a seat before you fall over,” Juan said. His voice had a hard edge to it, and she was sure he wasn’t happy that she had stolen from him.

  She sat down at the table and finally met his gaze. She expected a glare but instead she thought perhaps he was concerned. He was probably afraid he’d be stuck with her. “We’ll be out of here as soon as Brent has slept a bit.” It hurt her swollen, split lip to talk.

  Without commenting, Juan pushed back his chair and poured some heated water into a small chipped basin. He then grabbed a clean cloth and put it on the table near her. He moved a chair close to her and then he pulled her chair until she was facing him. He sat down and dipped the cloth into the water and then pressed it against her lip.

  The sting sharpened but then eased. Startled, she turned her head away.

  “It’s all right.” His voice actually gentled for a moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up. This looks fresh.” His brow went up.

  “I…I went to my parents over a week ago, and they sent me away. I came here, and the house was empty so I stayed inside for three days. I was afraid whoever lived here would catch me. I went back to Wendell’s place, and this time he smacked me around and threatened to kill Brent if I didn’t, if I… well what he wanted…” She paused for a moment. “Anyway, I had to crawl out of the bedroom window with Brent and I wasn’t able to pack my things. All I had packed was a small bag of nappies and clothes for Brent.”

  He pressed the wet cloth against her lip again. It hurt but she held still. It needed to be cleaned.

  “There, I think I stopped the bleeding for a while at least.” His voice seemed gentler, and she stared at him. His black hair reached beyond his collar, and his eyes were the deepest shade of brown she’d ever seen. His skin had a tinge of brown to it.

  “You’re Mexican.”

  Juan sat back in his chair and his disgust was evident in his scowl. “If you don’t want me to touch you, just say so. Are my hands too brown for you? Perhaps you don’t want to be in the same room as a Mexican. How didn’t you know before?”

  Closing her eyes she drew in a deep breath and let it out. She opened them and met his gaze. “I was actually admiring your deep brown eyes and your black hair. It just popped out of my mouth. It’s one of my greatest faults. I speak before I think. I do know you’re Mexican. You and your brother Carlos. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  It was silent in the cabin for a bit until he finally nodded his head. “Your parents wouldn’t allow me and my brother into the store. We didn’t go to town much. I still don’t. I’m never comfortable with the stares and whispers.”

  “I can’t say I blame you. I know how it feels. But I want you to know I’ll go in the morning.”

  He sighed. “Where are you planning to go? I don’t see as there are too many options out there.”

  “I don’t know but getting away from this town might be good or maybe I could be a mail order bride. Or, well there’s always the saloon.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. He’d probably have a look of disgust on his face, and she just couldn’t bear to see that.

  She bowed her head and stared at her hands. “I was raised in the church, and I tried to be good and follow the teachings, but I went astray. My ma warned me from when I was a little girl that purity was a valued virtue. But when Arthur Spade drove his peddler’s wagon into town I was smitten. Then he smiled at me and winked. He paid a lot of attention to me, and he made me feel special. All thought about my future went right out of my head, and when he asked me to sneak out of the house one night I foolishly did as he bade. He was in town for about a week.” A tear spilled down her face. “He made me so many promises. We were going to get married and he was going to take me away. One morning, I sat at the breakfast table and learned from my parents that he’d left.”

  “I’m sorry he led you to believe he cared for you.”

  His voice held so much compassion she had to lift her head and glance at him. Gone was the hard-edged man. “It’s my own fault, and since then all I feel is shame.”

  Juan tilted his head and stared at her. “Even when you married Roger?”

  Warmth filled her face, and she could only imagine how red she had become. “He was paid to marry me. I was lucky he went and got the doctor to help when I was giving birth. He ignored me unless he was drunk. He had a fondness for liquor, and he wasn’t the nicest man when he drank. He told me I ruined his life, and he’d have to have more money.”

  “That must have been tough.”

  Blinking back tears, she nodded as a lump formed in her throat. “I went and asked my folks for money, and my pa backhanded me and pushed me out of the house.” Standing, she gave him a nod. “I think maybe it would be best if Brent and I slept out in your barn. I don’t want to cause you any trouble. Like I said, we’ll be gone in the morning.” She turned and went into the bedroom. Brent was just stirring, and she swept him up into her arms, holding him close. Her soul was in tatters having told Juan all her secrets. What he must think!

  She walked out of the bedroom. “If we could just borrow a blanket, I’d be appreciative.”

  Juan stood and approached her. She cringed and braced for a blow…or worse. Men weren’t to be trusted.

  “You two take the bedroom; I’ll sleep out here in front of the stove. Leave the door open a bit so some of the warmth can get in there.”

  She stepped back, shaking her head. “I can’t do that. I can’t leave the door open. I know I must trust you a bit, and I did tell you my problems, but I’m just scared, so scared of what can happen in the dark. That’s how it starts, you know. Men have no problem being wicked at night doing things they know they shouldn’t and then once they feel comfortable enough they start to do whatever they want whenever they want.” She almost made it to the door before Juan stepped in front of her.

  “I’ll sleep in the barn. You can lock the front door. I understand the need to feel safe.”

  Before she could say a word, he grabbed his coat and went out the door. “Don’t forget to lock the door,” he called ou
t.

  Sonia locked it and checked it and then checked it again. She put Brent back down on the bed and then she sat in a chair near the warm stove. Her body shook, and she couldn’t get it to stop. She liked Juan, he was a nice man, but she was a ruined woman. The sooner she left the better.

  A chill hung on the air the following morning. Juan jammed his hands in his pockets as he paced in front of his door. Were they up yet? He’d hate to wake them, even though he certainly hadn’t gotten much sleep. He’d spent the night feeling bad for Sonia. She was a nice person who had made an error in judgement. It was a shame that one indiscretion could leave her life in shambles.

  She’d probably be glad to leave his house, though. No white woman wanted a Mexican man. He was always looked at with distrust, sometimes with outright malice. He couldn’t change things. It was safer for him to stay on the ranch.

  Without warning, the door opened and he smiled at Sonia as she hovered just on the other side of the threshold. She gave him a slight smile back. The circle under her eyes told a story of a sleepless night.

  “Good morning, Juan. Would you like breakfast? I could make you some.”

  Without giving her an answer, he walked into his cabin and put more wood in the cook stove.

  “I bet you just want to get on with your day…” She drew a deep breath and added, “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow one of your blankets to wrap Brent in.”

  “You can take whatever you need.”

  She gave him a quick nod and bundled Brent up. Head held high, she left.