"Papá, let me read the letter again, por favor." Josefina tried to sit still as the stagecoach bounced and jiggled making her feel like a pillow that was being fluffed. Her father, Andres Montoya, gave her a smile as she clutched the seat when they hit yet another hole in the road.

"Some king's road, eh," said her father. Josefina grinned as they were jolted again by the rough roadway. Her father reached into his jacket and produced the letter she had asked for. She must have read it a hundred times already, but he gave it to her to read again. "Haven't you memorized it by now?"

"Not quite," Josefina said as she carefully unfolded the letter. Her father looked on over her shoulder to help when she came to words she wasn't familiar with. As they were the only passengers from the last connection to Los Angeles Josefina read the letter aloud.

Dear Cousin,

I hope this letter finds you and your family well. I have been well enough, by now you've heard of the passing of my husband. As I have been settling his estate I have found it necessary to come to Mexico by way of Los Angeles. Let me know at once if you could meet me there. I worry about traveling by myself. I know it's a long way from home, but I would hold you in dearest affection if you could make it. I will arrive on Soberano in early April. I look forward to seeing you.

With all love and affection,
Anita

P.S. If you can manage it, I would be delighted if you would bring your girls with you, I would love to have some feminine company and I've never met your youngest.

The stagecoach lurched again causing Josefina's straw hat to fly off. This particular coach was heavy, bound for Los Angeles it was to deliver mail, medicine, supplies and according to rumour there was even some gold bullion amongst the luggage. Her father picked up the hat and resettled it on her head. "Are you excited to meet your cousin?"

"Sí," Josefina nodded as she folded the letter again, "she seems like a very nice lady. How long has it been since you last saw her?"

"It's been at since before you were born, I think your sister Clara was two," said Andres. Josefina handed him the letter and he put it back in his jacket pocket.

Josefina smoothed her skirt. "I wish mi hermanas could have come."

"They needed to look after the rancho, we will be together soon enough."

"I know." Josefina gazed out the window for a moment. At first it had been interesting watching the countryside go by, but now it was actually a little dull. "Papá, when will we get to Los Angeles?" She had asked the question before, but she kept hoping the answer would change, she was restless after all the sitting she had done on the journey.

"We aren't too far away now, the last mile marker I saw said it's only a few more miles. We should be there by supper time." Her father reached over to the blanket they had brought and began re-folding it. He was bored and ready to be in Los Angeles too.

Josefina adjusted her rebozo around her shoulders and sat back in the seat. She tried to relax and maybe go to sleep, but the bouncing of the stagecoach was just too unpredictable to get comfortable. Her father put an arm around her, and she snuggled up to his side. Only a little longer.

Suddenly, the stagecoach ground to a halt. Josefina sat up, her father looked alarmed. "Papá?" she asked in a small voice. He raised a hand to keep her quiet. There were voices outside barking orders.

"Josefina, get on the floor." Josefina obeyed silently, heart racing. She realized the stagecoach was being held up! Her father covered her with the blanket, she could feel her hat come loose again, but she didn't dare move to put it back on her head. "Stay here, don't move until I call for you."

Josefina couldn't see because of the blanket covering her, but she heard the door open and her father leave the stagecoach. She held her breath as she heard his feet hit the steps. Through the edge of the blanket she watched as light flooded the interior, then the door swung shut leaving Josefina huddled on the floor under a blanket in the semi-dark.

Josefina tried to will her heart to be silent, she was sure the thudding could be heard halfway around the world. She silently prayed that the bandidos would leave and not bother them anymore. The voices outside grew louder, she strained her ears to hear what they were saying, but the men were too far away to pick up distinctly. She thought she could hear her father's voice. The tone was escalating, then a gunshot cut through the air followed by a scream of pain and a thud. Josefina gasped, then the stagecoach was moving again, faster now than it had ever driven before.