Paloma and the Horse Traders (20 page)

Whether Claudio knew she was there or not, she
could not say, except that her heart sank the night he called out,
“Mama!” Tears on her face, she held both his hands that
night.

When she came back to bed, she woke up Marco,
the words spilling out of her about the sorrow that had driven the
sleeping Claudio Vega back so many years into another world, one
before her birth, when he was a young boy.

Tucked close to her husband, Paloma felt her
own heart finally stop its racing. She knew who she was and where
she was, and she thanked God and all the saints for her good
man.

She knew her words had disturbed Marco, because
he did not return to sleep immediately. “Paloma, what did you do
when you had nightmares in the house of your uncle in Santa Fe?” he
asked.

“
Do? Do?” she had asked in turn,
uncertain what he meant.

“
You know, when you had
nightmares.”

“
No one ever came into my room. It
was just me and the Comanches.” She shuddered. “Some nights it
seemed as though they rode around and around my bed.”

She felt his huge sigh and happily let him pull
her closer. She debated whether to tell him any more, but he was
her husband. “For the first year, when I had those nightmares, I
crawled under the bed and into the farthest corner, as I had
crawled that day when everyone died.”

“
Dios mío
,” Marco whispered
into her neck.

“
I felt safe there,” she whispered
back. “That is why I don’t begrudge a moment sitting with my
brother. I wish someone had sat with me.”

She lay still now, debating whether to get
up—morning wasn’t far off now—or sleep as long as she could. She
knew this early-morning meditation would be her only free time all
day, because that was the nature of life on the Double Cross. Soon
she would be outlining daily tasks for the house servants, tending
her children—thank God for Graciela’s help—and helping out where
Marco needed her. Better to lie there and just enjoy the comfort of
food enough, shelter enough, love enough. Too many had far less
than she.

She thought about her children in the next
room. Sometimes at night before they slept, she heard their drowsy
conversation, their giggles, their shared secrets, even with their
still-rudimentary language. Marco usually went into their room to
remind them that night was the time to sleep. She had to laugh into
her hand when he thought he spoke quietly and told them to whisper
if they wanted to talk, so Mama wouldn’t hear. “She needs her
sleep,” he whispered on more than one occasion. “Why, Papa?”
Soledad had asked, and he had replied, “You’ll know soon enough,”
which seemed to satisfy the child.

At peace with herself, she rested her hand on
her belly. Her waist had not yet begun to expand, and most mornings
started with her kneeling over a basin, but she felt the same
serenity she had known with her first pregnancy. This side of love
was one of God’s great mysteries.

She knew her husband’s body well. In a moment
of candor—she who was modest—she had told him how she loved to look
at the two of them joined together. He had smiled and sat up from
her body. “Look all you want,” he had said, gazing deep into her
eyes, then down to where they were still coupled. “I like it,
too.”

At moments like that, she thought of her
parents, and hoped they had been as happy as she was now.
We
cannot know
, reason told her, but her heart
disagreed.

She lay still, thinking of the day’s tasks
ahead. Thank goodness all the candles were made for the coming
year, and the wool they were keeping for household use had been
spun and balled into tidy skeins. When winter’s bitter cold and
blowing snow made the Double Cross seem like the last Christian
outpost in the world, she would stay warm by the fire, a child on
each side of her, as she knitted caps and mittens and socks. By
then, the baby would be moving. She wondered what Soledad would do
when she put the child’s hand on her belly to feel movement within.
I’ll find out
, she thought.
And what will I tell her,
this no-daughter-but-so-daughter of ours?

Paloma decided this would be a good day to walk
with Graciela and the children beside the
acequia
. She had
noticed how Graciela seemed to start with every sudden sound, and
how she continually looked over her shoulder. More than two men in
the kitchen at the same time nearly reduced her to
tears.

Paloma understood, thinking how frightening it
must have been to be at the mercy of women demanding her labor
during the day, and men claiming her body at night. Only God’s
mercy had spared Paloma that indignity.

Sancha had also whispered that food was
disappearing from the bread safe, something that hadn’t happened
before Graciela arrived. Paloma understood this, too. She had tried
to squirrel away little scraps of food in the Moreno house, but all
that earned her was humiliating exposure and a beating. Paloma
thought back to those days. Even knowing she would be thrashed, she
felt compelled to steal, because she was eleven and on her own in
the world, and a girl had to eat. And so she understood how her
brother cried out for their mother.

“
Patience and time,” she said out
loud, which woke up Marco.

He turned sideways, light brown eyes looking
into blue ones. “Eight years, I shared my pillow with no one.” He
touched her cheek. “Now, mostly it’s just you, but sometimes it’s
Soli and Claudito as well. Do we need a bigger bed?”

“
No. We’ll just crowd together like
pine nuts in a basket,” Paloma said.

“
Patience and time, eh? Who are you
worrying about now?”

“
Graciela. Sancha tells me she has
been stealing food. I am reluctant to chastise her, because I know
something about her fears.” She inched closer, because the morning
was cool. “Claudio’s wound is better, the wound we can see, at
least.”

Marco sat up. “I’ll give him something to do
today. I was planning to ride to Santa Maria with Toshua. I will
invite him.”

“
You’ll be careful?”

He nodded and got out of bed, dressing quickly
as she lay there watching him, enjoying just another few minutes
off her feet. She swallowed because the basin was starting to
summon her. She must have made some noise, because Marco grabbed
the basin, pulled her into a sitting position and set the basin in
her lap. He held back her hair as she vomited, then poured her a
glass of water. She sat cross-legged as she drank.

“
Better?”

“
In a few months,” she joked. “Must
you go to Santa Maria?”

“
I must. I hate to leave little
Santa Maria at the mercy of that garrison. I should have been there
sooner, especially since we do not know what mischief Great Owl has
done in the village.”

“
Ah! You tell me not to worry, and
you worry about Santa Maria,” she said, getting out of bed. She
pulled on her
camisa
and was looking for her petticoat, when
Marco came up behind her and pulled her close.

“
As
juez de campo
, I get paid
to worry,” he growled into her neck, which made Paloma laugh, then
cover her mouth, not wanting to wake the children.

Once dressed, Paloma followed Marco into the
kitchen and then the garden beyond. He stood there and she looked
where he looked, to see Toshua standing on the parapet, facing
north.

“
He has been doing that all week,”
Marco told her. “He won’t say why.”

“
He tells me not to worry, and yet
he is worried. Is it for Eckapeta?”

“
I think not. He knows how
resourceful she is. I think he knows there is trouble in the north,
from the land of the Utes.”

“
They will harry us,
too?”

“
Hard to say. The Utes were our
allies when Governor de Anza led us against the Comanche Cuerno
Verde in ’79,” Marco said. “Does Great Owl seek to gain their
trust, or does he plan to work carnage among them? I should find
out.”

“
Why you?” she asked.

“
That has always been Governor de
Anza’s special charge to me, since we form the eastern boundary of
New Mexico.” He put his arm around her and walked toward the
acequia
. “We’ve done well, thanks to Kwihnai, but now we
have trouble.”

“
Very well,” she told him. “Enlist
Toshua and ask my brother. He is well enough, and I can tell he is
bored.”

Claudio perked up immediately when Marco
invited him along to Santa Maria. In answer to Marco’s question
about his shoulder, Claudio patted it and didn’t make a face,
although Paloma couldn’t overlook the sudden sweat on his
forehead.

“
Are you certain?” she
asked.

“
Claro
,” he replied promptly.
“Can I help it if you keep your house too warm?” He wiped his
forehead with the back of his hand. “I need to ride.” He stood back
and looked around the high-walled plaza where she felt secure. “I’m
not used to being enclosed, Paloma. In fact ….” His voice
trailed off.

She knew what he was going to say. Only five
days with him after years certain that he was dead, she realized
that she did not know this man. They had both grown up. She said it
for him. “In fact, you are not so certain that you belong
here.”

Claudio gave her a look of surprise mingled
with relief. “
Claro
.” He kissed her cheek and hurried toward
the house. She watched him go, noticing with dismay the extra
spring in his step.

Graciela watched her children in the kitchen
garden, where Sancha had set them to work picking beans. “No one is
too young to help a little,” Sancha had told her. Paloma went into
the horse barn, where she had last seen Marco. He was saddling old
Buciro, so she came up behind and put her arms around
him.

“
Something bothers you,” he
said.

“
How do you know?” she
asked.

“
Because you’re quiet.” He chuckled
and it was the kindest sound. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but
does my back feel just a little wet now? What’s the matter, dearest
heart?”

“
Claudio doesn’t think he wants to
stay here,” she mumbled into his shirt, feeling like a disagreeable
child. “All these years, and he isn’t sure!”

Marco turned around and took hold of her hands.
He kissed each palm, then set her hands against his chest. “Give
him a little room, Paloma. Where has he been these past
years?”

“
On the plains, traveling here and
there with smelly traders, pretty much living the life that every
man would enjoy, I suppose,” she said. “Even you! Don’t deny that
you like stripping down to a loincloth.”

“
It’s pretty comfortable, Paloma,”
he teased. “You should try it.”

“
I would flop and not be so
comfortable,” she said, which made him throw back his head and
laugh. “Oh, stop it! Does no man ever really want to be
domesticated?” She pointed to herself. “But
I
am
here!”

“
To my great satisfaction,” he told
her, and gave her the look she remembered from the first time she
saw him, something he probably wasn’t even aware of: an appraisal,
followed by a slight nod, as though he had found something that had
been missing.

“
You’ve seen me when I return from a
trip. I never ride my horses hard, do I?”

“
Never,” she agreed.

“
Why is it that I pick up my pace
when I see the walls of the Double Cross?”

“
You love your home?”

“
I do. I always will,” he admitted.
“Mind you, Paloma, those long eight years after Felicia died and
before you and I … I rode slowly because there wasn’t anyone
waiting for me. Now I hurry up because I know you will be standing
at the gate, practically jumping up and down, but holding your
hands so tight together because you are a Spanish lady.”

“
Oh, I don’t …” she began, then
blushed. “Well, yes, I suppose I do.”

“
I know I’ll hear about puppies, or
Soledad’s cough, or Claudito’s new tooth, or what damage the hail
did to your peas. You’ll scold me because I look tired or too thin,
or smell bad, though not as bad as your brother, and—”

“
That is so unimportant,” she began,
but he put his fingers to her lips.

“
Then why do I crave it? I know that
I will hear the latest news, that Soli and Claudito will sit on me
and demand horsey, that you will have my favorite meal
cooking—”

“
I have that meal ready for days,
because I’m never sure when you’ll arrive,” she said.

“
I will pray that night in my own
chapel, kiss my children goodnight, and lie down in my own bed with
the finest wife a man can have.” He put his hand on her waist and
started walking her out of the horse barn. “I do like to ride the
plains with Toshua, but Paloma, I know where I live, and I know who
I love. Let’s just let your brother be Claudio.”

“
All those years—”

“
We can’t change them.” He stopped
walking and put his hands on her shoulders. “You can do one of two
things, Paloma, as I see it: you can whine and cry and hang onto
him, or you can give him a kiss goodbye and assure Claudio that he
is always welcome here.”