(Very fast paced but that's cause I kept forgetting what I wanted to write 😭)
The water was cool around him. Roman stayed near the shallows, just deep enough that his feet reached the bottom of the creek. He couldn't swim so this was as far as he would dare.
He was just about to dip his head back into the water when he saw a man. Roman tensed. Santiago whinnied as the man came closer to him. Roman had him tied up to a tree in case he spooked.
As the man came closer and out of the shadow of the trees Roman could see his pale skin and the rifle he carried. Roman didn't have a gun, only a hunting knife that was in the saddle packs next to the water. There was no way he could get to it in time if this man decided to shoot. His heart started beating faster and faster.
The man waved at him. "Hola!"
Roman didn't respond. He didn't know what to do.
"Tu hablas Engles?"
His pronunciation was poor but Roman understood him.
"Sí." His voice was shaking.
The man smiled. "What's your name, son?"
Roman's tongue felt heavy. It'd been quite some time since he'd spoken English.
"Roman Aguilar."
The water rushed around him. He felt too exposed. No, he was exposed. All his clothes sat on the bank next to the saddlebags. He swallowed.
The man followed his eyes and saw his things. He looked back at Roman.
"Get yourself decent," he said. "I'll get you a proper bath, some food."
"Thank you, sir," he stuttered through his nervousness. As he waded through the water back to shore the man turned around, lighting a cigarette.
By the time they started walking Roman was changed. His clothes were wet still but the sun was quickly drying them. Roman led Santiago on his right, away from the man, unsure if the horse would bite this stranger.
The man introduced himself as a Mr Will Stevens.
"Where're you from, boy?"
Roman swallowed. "Parral."
Stevens looked over at him. "Far from home. What're you doing out here?"
Roman didn't answer, but apparently that was enough.
"Headed to the states, huh?" It was more of a statement than a question. Stevens was clearly American, from the way he dressed to the way he spoke. Roman was scared of not being welcomed in a country he hadn't even made it to yet.
"I'll get you back on your way, don't worry. How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
When they made it to the Stevens property it was turning dark. The man watched as Roman tied up Santiago, then led him inside. It was a small estate, but larger than any common house in Mexico.
Roman was introduced to Will Stevens' wife, Marisol, a short woman with smile lines on her face. She looked to be pregnant but Roman didn't ask. They had a daughter, a girl just a year or two younger than himself. Her name was Samantha, but her parents called her Sam.
At dinner she sat next to him, while he sat across the table from her father. Food was served by a couple of maids; slavery had been abolished in the country, but housekeeping was still a regular job for many.
Marisol asked him lots of questions at the table and he tried to answer as much as he could. Her accent was thick so he looked to Will for clarity plenty of times.
By the time they finished eating it was dark out. He was told by Will that his horse had been fed and taken care of, then he was shown to the washroom.
It was the first time in weeks he'd bathed with soap. He could barely afford food, let alone simple hygiene. Cleanliness had always been important to him and it disgusted him to feel and be so dirty. He supposed he earned it.
When he was done he dried his hair and body, then put on semi-clean clothes. Like himself, he washed them in any creek or pond or river he came across.
He left the washroom, looking around. It was always nerve-wracking to be in someone else's home, especially a big one like this. Americans had a different form of hospitality than Mexicans. Very different.
After wandering around for a moment he found the married couple in what he could only assume was a foyer, although he didn't know the word in English.
"Roman," Marisol said. She smiled as she put down the needle and thread she was using to mend a piece of cloth. "Where did you say you were from again?"
It was a lot of words. Roman looked over to her husband for a translation. Instead he answered for him.
"Parral." He didn't say it correctly but Roman didn't have the courage to correct him. "What's your father's name?"
It took Roman a moment to figure out what he asked. "Emilio Aguilar, sir," he got out.
"Do you need to write him?"
Roman shook his head. "No. No, he-... he does not want to speak to me."
"English," Will corrected. Roman tried not to glare; it was annoying to be forced to speak a language not his in his own land.
"I do not know the words."
Marisol looked at Will; she didn't know the language. Will sighed and got up.
"I'll show you to your room."
Roman woke early. He wanted to get out of the house, before he became a burden. He made it to the front door when one of the maids ran into him. Her skin was lighter than his, and with her full lips and long brown hair he could tell immediately she was from here.
She smiled. "I'll tell Mr Stevens you're up."
"No. No-"
She was already swiftly walking to the bedrooms. Roman sighed and walked outside. He found the small stable where Santiago had been put.
He heard footsteps as he started to put his tack on. Roman looked behind him and saw Stevens.
"Leavin' so early, huh."
Roman didn't respond; he didn't quite know what the man meant.
"Let me get you some food."
Will went back inside and Roman planted his forehead against Santiago's neck. The horse snorted.
A minute or two later Will came back out with a small sack. He pushed it into Roman's hand.
"Why'd you leave your father?" he asked, his hand still on top of Roman's.
Roman startled. "I-I am grown. I do not need my father."
"Grown men don't run, Roman."
Roman swallowed.
After a moment of silence he reached into a pocket and pulled out some money. He handed it to Will. "Here. For your troubles."
Will shook his head. "Keep your money. Keep heading north on the road and you'll reach a city by this afternoon on horseback. Stay out of trouble, y'hear me?"
Roman nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Go."
Will Stevens didn't need to tell Roman twice.
