Chapter 1

Elena Rocha was on the road again, which meant that if you saw her truck, you had better get out of the way. Her eyesight wasn’t quite what it used to be, though she was never one to admit it.

Sure, she could have had any of the other workers go to pick up supplies, but she preferred to do this on her own. It had been a tradition with her husband Hector, one that they did alone while they ran the Arroyo Angeles Ranch together. Though Hector has been dead for about ten years, Elena still planned to keep the tradition going.

She never felt alone while she was driving. She always had a piece of her life and love close to her, a locket with two pictures: one of her and Hector, the other of her two boys, Carlos and Beto. Wearing the locket was her way of keeping her family with her, even when they were apart

Driving was also her way of getting some peace and quiet. Running a ranch wasn’t an easy job, and it became harder when she had to do it alone. Elena had always been a strong and determined woman, one that had a huge heart but could still rule with an iron fist. That was why so many people loved her, though she did make a few enemies along the way. Some of the suppliers loved seeing her, while others trembled when her truck pulled up.

The peace was why the supply runs were so special to her. She could simply sit in her truck with her radio tuned into her favorite station while classic Tejano hits played. No one was there to interrupt her thoughts or complain about what she was listening to. She could be without a care in the world, if only for those few minutes.

Elena’s trips with her husband used to contain small talk, yet now they were just her thinking. Thinking of her sons and how proud she was of them. Her mind also filled with regrets, leading to many tear-filled drives. Today was one of those drives.

It was a particularly bad episode this time, and she almost thought about pulling off to the side of the road so she could open the locket and kiss each of the pictures inside. Instead she just talked as if her husband were with her. “Mi amor, I wish you were here with me right now,” she said as she fought back tears. Elena closed the locket back up and began to drive towards the feed store.

She was reaching the area she loved the most, the wooded one where occasionally you could see a deer off to the side. Elena considered the deer her spirit animal, and enjoyed watching them run about through the trees. As she drove, it seemed as if the deer picked up on her sadness, since there were plenty of them in full view. Elena took her gaze off the road for a quick second as she marveled at one particular doe that was grazing off to the side.

As she turned her eyes back, her face went from joy to fear. One of the deer had run onto the road ahead of her. She swerved to avoid it, then pumped her brakes so she could slow down. But nothing happened. The car continued moving forward and showed no signs of stopping. Elena grabbed her locket and said one final prayer. Then it was all over.1

Upon entering the extremely crowded bar, one would think that everyone in the room was filled with joy. The music was pulsating with the current electronic hits, drinks were firmly in hand, and many took to the dance floor to let the day’s frustrations float away into the cool night air. Carlos Rocha was supposed to be one of many slightly buzzed men hoping to forget their troubles. However, today was not the day for any type of release.

It started out well enough. He got up, got dressed, stopped to get a Frappuccino, nothing too out of the ordinary. Then his boss called him to the office earlier and thanked him for his many years of service. He stopped for several minutes, which allowed Carlos to carefully assess the situation.

The way he said it gave Carlos reason to pause. No smile was present, nor were there any signs of celebration. After leaving the small South Texas town of Tres Reynas for the big city, Carlos worked his way up the local news station and became one of the top reporters in the city. Carlos had an idea of what was coming, but he thought a reprimand or small suspension would happen. Although there he was, being told the usual “there was only so much I could do” before hearing “I have to let you go.”

Carlos tried to keep it together as he gathered his things and walked out of the station. He did a good job until he reached his car and allowed the tears to flow from his face. Carlos knew that at twenty-eight, he was still young enough to start over somewhere fresh. He’d even managed to save a good nest egg to keep him afloat for a while. If news somehow traveled about what had happened, the road to finding a new gig would be a bumpy one.