Journey of the Heart (8 page)

Elizabeth was watering her flowers when she heard him ride in. She looked up, ready to smile and invite a neighbor in for a cup of tea. It was a warm morning, but she felt herself grow cold when she recognized Chavez. He was alone, thank God. Maybe he was just on his way somewhere and had stopped to water his horse? She put her bucket down and wiping her hands on her apron, walked up the porch steps and called to her husband.

“Michael. We have a visitor.”

Jake had gone for the mail yesterday, and Michael was engrossed in the newspaper. “Who is it, Elizabeth?”

“I believe it is Mackie’s man, Chavez.”

Michael took off his reading glasses and stood up. Chavez. He looked over at the wall where his cavalry pistol hung. He didn’t wear a gun regularly, although he always rode with a rifle. He’d worn a pistol long enough in the army, he told anyone who asked. Well, he was not putting it on today, he decided. Not and appear scared of scum like Chavez.

He pushed open the screen door and stood next to his wife.

Chavez had tied his horse and was watching Gabriel work one of the two-year-olds, just as if he were any neighbor here for a visit.

“Wait here,
a ghra
,” Michael told his wife.

“
Buenos dias
,” he said quietly when he reached the corral fence.

“
Buenos dias,
Señor Burke
. Parece que usted se consiguió un hombre que sabe de caballos
.”

“Yes, Gabe is very good with my horses. Are you interested in buying one, Señor Chavez?”

Chavez laughed and turning to Michael, put out his hand. “I don’t think we have ever really met, Mr. Burke.”

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure of a formal introduction, Chavez. But I feel like I know you,” Michael added. He kept his hand by his side and finally Chavez dropped his.

“I am not here for the pleasure of watching your beautiful horses, Mr. Burke. I am here on business.”

“And would that be your business or Mr. Mackie’s business?” Michael asked caustically.

“Mr. Mackie’s business
is
my business.”

“Yes, so I thought, Señor Chavez.”

“Señor Mackie sent me to tell you that he has reconsidered his offer.”

“Em, he has decided that he doesn’t want my ranch after all?” asked Michael with dry humor.

“No, he has decided he wants it so much he is willing to give you twenty dollars more an acre.”

“ ‘Tis a more than generous offer,” said Michael.

“Yes. It would be to your advantage to take it, Señor Burke.”

Michael was silent for a minute and Chavez turned back to watch Gabe.

“Em…exactly why would you advise me to accept, Chavez?”

“Because not only is it a more than generous offer, it is Señor Mackie’s last offer, Señor Burke.”

“ ‘Tis indeed?” said Michael. “You mean he’ll be giving up on me after all this?”

Chavez turned. “Mr. Mackie never gives up on anything he wants,
señor
. Let us just say it is the last time he will be so generous.” Chavez’s eyes were unreadable as he continued. “You have a nice place here, Mr. Burke. Beautiful horses. A lovely wife and daughter, I hear.”

On the surface, Chavez’s words were only a polite litany, but the undertone had nothing of politeness in it.

“Are ye threatening me, Señor Chavez?” Michael asked calmly.

“Why, I am just making an observation,
señor
. But life is, I am sure you would agree, uncertain. I would urge you to take advantage of Señor Mackie’s offer.”

“Tell Mr. Mackie I appreciate his generosity, but I prefer the uncertainty of life to being driven off my land by a bully and his hired gun.”

Chavez gave Michael an empty smile and said: “I am sorry that is your decision, Mr. Burke.
Hasta luego
….”

“You are sorry, my arse,” muttered Michael as he watched Chavez ride away. “And I’m sure I will be seeing you again.”

* * * *

Gabe had seen Chavez ride in and had considered interrupting the lunging for a few minutes. But Chavez was alone and Michael right inside, so he decided to go on with his work and just keep his ears and eyes open for trouble.

He ignored Chavez when the man came over to the corral. He couldn’t hear what Michael and his visitor were saying, but their faces were calm enough, so he put his attention on the two-year-old. After Chavez had ridden away, Michael stayed by the fence and watched until Gabe had finished.

“She’s a sweet-tempered filly, isn’t she, Gabe?” he said when his employee led the horse over to the fence.

Gabe stroked the filly’s nose. “She is, Mr. Burke.” He hesitated and then added, “I saw you had a visitor.”

“Señor Chavez, yes.”

“I know that this is none of my business,” Gabe said hesitantly.

“ ‘Tis indeed yer business, boyo, if you work for me. Mr. Nelson Mackie had made me another offer. His last offer, so I’ve been told.”

“And you refused,” Gabe said quietly.

“I refused,” said Michael. “I will not let anyone buy me off a place I’ve built with me own sweat and hard work. ‘Tis my home and my family’s and this is one Irishman who won’t be driven off his land.”

“Good for you, Mr. Burke.”

“Well, now, Gabe, I don’t know that it will be good for me,” Michael responded with a wry smile. “It might be very bad for all of us.” He looked Gabe in the eye and said seriously: “Now is the time for leavin’, Gabe. I’d not think ill of you if ye did.”

Gabe returned Michael’s gaze steadily. “Why, I haven’t finished with these horses, Mr. Burke. And there is still Night Sky to gentle for your daughter.”

Michael nodded. “Well, don’t say I haven’t warned ye, lad. But I can’t deny I was hoping ye’d say it. ‘Twas a good day for us when Eduardo sent ye here.”

* * * *

It wasn’t hard for Elizabeth to guess what Chavez wanted. She didn’t have to be there to know Michael’s answer: he’d never sell their land. Or be driven off alive. And neither would she. Mackie would have to kill both of them if he wanted the Burke property.

She picked up her bucket to go and fill it again and as it bumped her leg she was suddenly overcome by fear so strong she thought she was going to faint. She set the bucket down and sat on the edge of the porch, leaning back against one of the posts.

“Are ye all right,
a ghra?”
asked Michael as he walked toward the house.

The fear had risen and washed over her like a wave, leaving her drenched in a cold sweat. She shivered, even though it was a hot day. “I just felt a bit faint, that is all, Michael,” she said in a low voice.

Michael sat down next to her and put his arm around her. “You are shaking, Elizabeth.”

She was and she couldn’t seem to stop. Michael pulled her closer and his body heat and the reassuring feel of his arm around her gradually relaxed her.

“Is it Chavez,
a ghra?”

“I don’t know, Michael. Something just…came over me when I went to fill the bucket. I am not really that frightened of him, though I suppose I should be with his reputation. I can guess what he came for.”

“And ye know my answer?”

“It is mine, too, Michael, you know that.”

“Mackie is not going to be such a gentleman now, Elizabeth. No, I am wrong,” he continued, with an ironic laugh. “He’ll act the gentleman as usual and let his hired wolf do the dirty work. Chavez looks like a wolf, with those green eyes of his. There seems to be no feeling in the man, Elizabeth, or else he couldn’t be doing his job.”

Elizabeth had finally stopped shaking. “Are ye feeling better,
a ghra?”

“I am, Michael. And what about Gabe? Will he stay, do you think?”

“He’ll stay, Elizabeth. And we are lucky he will.”

* * * *

That night, Elizabeth dreamed of her family. Her father was lying there, that black-red rose of blood on his white shirt. Her mother was on the ground, skirt above her waist. And she, Elizabeth, was walking up the bank, her bucket full. “Here’s the water you wanted, Ma.” But Jonathan, her little brother, was gone.

She awoke with a start, her chest aching with unshed tears and she felt Michael’s solid warmth next to her. She burrowed into his arms and let the tears fall.

Michael woke immediately. “Elizabeth, what is it?”

“I had a dream, Michael. A nightmare about my parents.”

“Oh,
muirneach,”
he whispered and he stroked her hair gently.

“I used to dream of it every week,” she whispered, “but that was long ago in Santa Fe. Before I married Thomas. When I became his wife, I guess I felt safe again.”

“And are ye feeling unsafe now, Elizabeth?” asked Michael with pain in his voice.

“Oh, I feel safe here with you, Michael,” she protested, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

“I know ye do, but with Chavez riding in like he did….”

“I suppose he reminds me of the Comancheros,” she said after a moment. She shuddered and her voice broke. “They were lying there, Michael, just like they were that day. My father and my mother. I was coming back with the bucket of water they sent me for. I had wanted my little brother to go, you know. If he had, Michael, then he’d be alive today and I’d be….”

“But thank God, ye’re alive here with me, Elizabeth, for what would I have done without ye all these years,
muirneach.”
He kissed her gently on the lips and she responded with an almost desperate passion. “Make love to me, Michael,” she whispered.

Their lovemaking usually began slowly and tenderly and built to a crescendo. Tonight, however, Elizabeth was ready for him almost immediately and Michael entered her after only a few kisses. He could feel his body respond to her need and he drove into her as deep as he could as she raised herself to meet him.

“Oh, Michael,” she whispered as she lay there afterward, her head cradled on his chest, “If anything happened to you….”

“Whist,
my dear one, nothing will.”

But he lay there after she fell asleep, wondering if he would be able to keep his promise.

The mail had contained not only Michael’s newspaper, but a letter for Cait from Henry. Her mother had handed it to her, noticing only the surname and the postmark and said, “Here is a letter from Susan Beecham, Cait.” Neither her mother nor her father noticed her quick blush when she saw Henry’s initial.

He was arriving in three weeks and would stay ten days on his way to visit a classmate in California. “I can’t wait to meet your parents, my dear,” he wrote, “and get their permission to make our engagement official. We can travel back together, just as we planned.”

She should be ecstatic, she thought, as she reread the letter. She couldn’t wait to see him, that was true. But his imminent arrival meant she had to tell her parents her plans. They assumed she was home for good. That she would be looking for a position teaching school in the county, and eventually marry someone from the valley. She had to tell them soon. Tonight.

She went out for a long ride with the letter tucked inside her blouse. She picnicked in the little canyon east of the ranch and reread the letter several times and daydreamed of Henry. He was very handsome with his brown hair and brown eyes and patrician nose. On her first visit to the Beechams he had overwhelmed her with his brilliant conversation that ranged from politics to literature. At first, she had only listened shyly. Then, with his encouragement, she’d ventured her own opinions. He had listened to them, supported her in them, for he was nothing if not forward-thinking about the position of women. And then one night as he and Susan and Cait had strolled the rolling lawn together after dinner, Susan had excused herself. And Henry had slipped his arm through Cait’s and continued their walk down to the small lake at the foot of the hill.

They watched the moon make a bright path across the water and then Henry had turned to her and putting his finger under her chin, tilted her face for his kiss. It was a gentle, tender kiss and Cait felt her mouth open naturally to it. But Henry pulled away and stroked her cheek with his finger.

“I do think that I am falling in love with you, Caitlin Burke,” he said with a winsome smile.

Caitlin was thrilled. Susan’s handsome, brilliant, sophisticated brother was in love with her, ‘Calico Cait,’ as the girls at school had called her.

“You don’t have to say anything, Cait,” he added, amused rather than taken aback by her silence. “It is too soon for you, I know. But I can be patient.”

“It is only that…I don’t know what to say,” she stammered.

He kissed her again, on the cheek this time, and taking her arm in his, walked her back up to the house. “I told Susan to give us ten minutes. We don’t want to be creating a scandal,” he teased, his eyes laughing down at her.

Of course she fell in love with him. How could she not? She could talk to him about all that she was learning and about her new dreams for the future. “I want to teach young women, Henry,” she said. “I want to stretch their minds the way Mrs. Weld has stretched mine.”

“That is one of the things I love about you, Cait. Your idealism. And when we marry, you can continue to teach for a while.”

“
If
we marry, Henry,” she said tartly. “Why, you haven’t even asked me.”

But of course, she knew he would. And he did, a few months later, on her Christmas visit. She’d said yes, but only to an unofficial engagement, for she had to tell her parents in person.

Now here she was, home a week, and had told them nothing!

* * * *

“Cait, could you slice the corn bread and put it on the table?”

“Yes, Ma.”

“And go call your father.”

Caitlin went halfway to the stable and called out: “Da, dinner’s ready.”

Michael was just coming out of the barn and he walked up to her and putting his arm around her shoulders, said, “ ‘Tis good to be hearin’ you shout for me, Cait. Just like ye used to do.”

“Elizabeth, I’ve said this before….”

“Only a million times, Da.”

“You cook a good meal for a hardworking man. And don’t ye be gettin’ disrespectful to your Da, young lady!”