Dorothy Garlock (34 page)

Mooney walked the mules at a fast pace until they were over the rise and out of sight of the camp, then he stood and cracked the whip hard over their backs, whipping them into a run. Burr swayed dizzily on the seat, his chin on his chest, blood dripping from his side and from a dozen cuts on his arms, chest, and back. Realizing that he could tumble from the seat, Mooney slowed the mules again to a fast walk and held on to Burr with one hand. After a few miles he pulled the mules to a halt and tried to stanch the blood coming from Burr’s side.

“I’m all right. Go on,” Burr said weakly. “Just . . . let me lie . . . down.”

Mooney stood and eased Burr down on the seat. “Hold on—we ain’t far from Luis’s place.”

Still, progress was slow. Mooney was afraid to run the mules, afraid Burr might bounce off the seat. A rough ride might even cause more bleeding. The late afternoon sun was riding the crest of the mountains and Burr had been unconscious for some time when Mooney spotted a rider in the distance. He signaled by waving his hat, and soon the rider came at a fast gallop.

Luis pulled his black stallion to a halt beside the wagon and sprang from the saddle. He let out an astonished oath when he saw his brother’s white face and the number of wounds on his body.

“Get up here and hold on to Burr so I can whip up these mules,” Mooney said. “It ain’t more’n a couple a miles to your place.”

Burr roused when Luis knelt beside him to lift his head from the hard seat.

“Tobacco did the trick, brother. God . . . I’m sick—” He vomited.

“Swallered too much juice, I reckon,” Mooney said.

When they reached the hacienda Luis brought out a straw tick, put it in the back of the wagon, and laid Burr on it. He bound the wound in his side and covered him with a blanket. They talked about him staying at the hacienda and Mooney going to fetch Ben and Johanna. Luis decided the care he needed would come faster if they took him home.

On the way to the ranch, Mooney told Luis what happened.

“That Burr fought like a wildcat,” he said with pride. “And that Indian buck was ugly—ugly as a mud fence. He shore did want to take our hair and ride on the ranch. Don’t think we’ll have no trouble now. That one feller, that Geronimo, told that to Burr. He’s got a powerful lot to say ’bout what goes on. He said if’n Burr killed the buck they’d leave us to bring ’em goods when they come again. I swear to God, Luis, that’s what he said—”

Mooney told Luis every detail of what had happened from the time they reached the Indian camp to the present. Luis listened patiently through the second telling of how Burr had spat in the Indian’s eyes. He knew Mooney was just getting warmed up to tell the story when they reached the ranch.

T
wenty

I
t would be the longest, most miserable day in Johanna’s life. She came to this conclusion before mid-morning. She moved nervously from one chore to another, her mind dulled with dread as it had been from the moment Burr’s wagon had rolled out of the yard. At first she was angry because of the flippant attitude he had taken about going to the Indian camp. After thinking about it, however, she decided that the flippancy was probably to conceal his own apprehension, because surely no man in his right mind
wanted
to go there. And he
had
turned and waved at her.

At high noon they buried old Mack and the Indian woman. It was decided shortly after the old man died not to ask the
padre
to stay over for the burial because Mack would have scorned a service and because the
padre
was urgently needed elsewhere. The good man, with several gold coins in his purse and escorted by Paco, left before dawn for the village in the mountains.

Johanna and Ben rode on the tailgate of the wagon that carried the bodies to the small cemetery. Red drove, and two of the ranch hands followed the wagon on horseback. Bucko and Jacy were left in Codger’s care. Under Ben’s instructions a grave for Mack was dug at the far end of the burial ground, as far as possible from the graves of Anna Englebretson and Juanita Gazares, although the final resting place for the mother of Mack’s third bastard son would be near that of the mothers of his two other sons.

They buried the Indian woman’s body first. Red carried her slight, blanket-wrapped body and placed it in the grave. Johanna was pained when she looked down at the pitiful bundle. She wished she knew the woman’s name, and if it mattered to her that she was being buried here, or if she’d rather be with her own people. As the men covered the body with earth, she softly recited the Lord’s Prayer, knowing it would mean nothing to the woman, but somehow she felt better for doing it.

The men were sweating profusely by the time they lifted the crude box containing old Mack’s corpse out of the wagon and into the grave. They stood with hats in hand while Ben read from Scripture, then shoveled the soft earth over the box, ensuring that the old man’s dust would remain forever in the valley he had loved.

The men went back to the wagon, and Johanna and Ben walked over to the other graves. She read the inscriptions on the markers in a hushed voice: “Juanita Gazares, beloved mother of Luis Gazares.” She moved on to Anna’s grave. Her eyes filled with tears. Anna had been only twenty years old when she died. She had been even younger than Jacy when she was introduced to Mack Macklin’s cruelty.

Ben reached out and caressed the top of the board marker on his beloved’s grave. Johanna looked at him through her tears and saw that his face was serene. His eyes had a faraway look, as if he were seeing once again the fragile, golden-haired girl with the enormous blue eyes. As Johanna moved away to leave him alone, she heard him say softly, “It’s going to be all right now, Anna.”

Ben’s words stayed with her on the way back to the house. She clung to them for reassurance. She imagined that if Burr lived to come back to her, her life would be a series of crises that would run from ecstasy to despair. God help her! She loved Burr Macklin and would be more miserable without him than with him. She reached out and grasped Ben’s hand, needing physical contact with someone else who loved Burr.

“I’m scared, Ben.”

“I know. So am I, but it’s going to be all right. I feel it. It
is
working out.” He patted her hand.

Red pulled the team up in front of the house, and Johanna and Ben went up the path to the porch. Johanna couldn’t help thinking about the day she’d arrived, and had walked up this same path to be met by such hostility. She almost expected to hear the old man shouting profanities. She thought about how during the weeks that followed she had cringed each time he had bellowed, “Girl!” What a strain it had been to steel herself each time she walked out onto the porch to face him.

The enormous cowhide-covered chair was empty, and the bucket old Mack had used for a spittoon was gone, although the tobacco-juice stains remained. The door to his room stood open, an eerie silence emanating from it. Johanna walked slowly down the hall to the kitchen. Rosita was busy with the noon meal while another Mexican woman cleaned. They were laughing and talking but fell silent when they saw Johanna in the doorway. Bucko and Harley, Rosita’s little one, sat at the table stuffing themselves with warm buttered bread sprinkled with sugar.

“Señora,” Rosita said, “Señor Burr tell me to come and bring Sofia, she have no family, she stay and help you, no?”

“
Sí.
I would like Sofia to stay and help.”

The short, plump woman’s face broke into a wreath of smiles. She dipped the mop into the bucket of water and scrubbed the floor vigorously.

Jacy and Luis were across the hall in the sitting room. Johanna stood quietly in the doorway and watched Luis nervously pacing the length of the room. It was undoubtedly the first time he had been inside the house.

Jacy jumped up from the comfortable chair. “Johanna, you’re back! Can’t you feel the change in this house already? Oh, I don’t . . . I know it’s wicked to be . . . not sad. It’s not that I’m glad, but—”

Luis looked at her with an indulgent smile. “
Vida mia,
sit down and rest. You’ve been like a small drop of water dancing on a hot stove.” He continued pacing.

“When do you think they’ll be back, Luis?”

“I do not know,
hermana,
perhaps not till the sun goes down.”

It was comforting to hear him call her sister, but his anxiety increased her nervousness.

“Not before then?” The anguish in her voice brought Jacy to her side.

“Burr will be all right, Johanna. Luis says Burr knows the chief. He thinks he’s got a good . . . chance.”

“What kind of chance? One in ten? Nine in ten?” Johanna’s voice rose, her mind riddled with fear.

“A good chance,
hermana,
” Luis said.

Johanna wanted desperately to believe him, but couldn’t.

Jacy grabbed her husband’s arm and her eyes sought his. “Didn’t I tell you she loved him, Luis? Didn’t I tell you Johanna wouldn’t have married him if she didn’t love him?”

“Yes, little one, you told me.” Luis gazed down at his wife with such love in his eyes that Johanna felt a stab of profound longing. “I’ll leave you two together,” he said abruptly.

Jacy threw her arms about his waist and buried her face against his chest. “Are you going . . . there?”

“I will not do anything foolish, my pet. You are not to worry. I will be here to spank life into our
niño
when it is time for it to face the world.”

“Be careful,” Jacy whispered.

“Of course.” He raised her face with gentle fingers. “My first concern is for you, my love, my life. My next concern is for my brother and,” he looked at Johanna, “his wife.”

Jacy and Luis walked out of the room together, their arms entwined. Johanna slumped down into a chair and sat for a few minutes before jumping to her feet. She went out into the hall in search of Ben, passed the old man’s room, then slowly went back and looked in. It seemed so strange for him not to be there. The mattress was missing from the bed and the floor had been scrubbed. It seemed bare, lonely. Even the unpleasant odor that had always permeated the room was replaced by the scent of lye soap and damp stone slabs. Again she felt sorrow for the man who had been so lacking in feeling for those around him, and who was so disliked that they couldn’t wait to remove all trace of him.

Deep in thought, Johanna wandered onto the back porch, only to be startled by the sudden appearance of Isabella, on her way into Burr’s room. Cold anger surged through her and propelled her into the room in time to see the woman toss some freshly washed shirts onto the bed. Isabella turned to face her rival, her eyes challenging, her mouth curled in contempt. Johanna, however, faced her down, and Isabella finally lowered her eyes and, with spiteful arrogance, attempted to sweep past Johanna. She did not get far before Johanna grabbed her arm. Isabella whirled like a tigeress, her teeth bared, her eyes spitting hate.

Surprised by the girl’s sudden ferociousness, Johanna stepped back, but did not yield. “You are never to come into this house again.” She issued the command with cold dignity.

“Only Señor Burr tell me that!” Isabella hissed, confidence blazing in her eyes.

Johanna smiled coldly. “I am mistress of this house.” The very words now brought with them a new confidence. “If you wish to remain in the valley you will do as I say.”

Isabella, not unlike a brazen child, placed her hands on her hips and thrust her small pointed breast forward, the dark nipples showing brown beneath the thin material of her blouse. She glared at Johanna with dark eyes flashing with fierce volatile lights, and then in a gesture of defiance she tossed her head to one side, her long black hair whipping out and over her shoulder.

“
Gringa!
” she spat. “You not woman enough for Señor Burr! He no want your pale skin and body sharp with bones. You go from here!”

Johanna’s anger turned to wide-eyed disbelief at the incredible nerve of the girl. “I’m here to stay. You’d better understand that right now. You are not to come here again.
Comprende?
”

There was such loathing and violence in Isabella’s eyes that had Johanna been less angry she might have chosen her words more carefully.

“You never have Señor Burr’s
niño.
I swear it! Señor Burr my man! You know nothing of how to please him.” Isabella spat out the words with vengeance. As if to inflict further pain, she said arrogantly, “Luis not wed your
puta
sister, if not for rape
niño
in her belly. He do it for his mother.”

“That’s enough!” Johanna said sharply.

“What I say is so,
gringa
!” The Mexican girl was panting with anger. She spun around and was through the door before Johanna could say another word.

Johanna followed her out of the room and from the back porch watched her race down the path toward the adobe houses. She stood there long after Isabella was out of sight and played back their conversation in her mind. Calmer now that Isabella was gone, Johanna recognized Isabella’s threat. Finally she realized there were more immediate problems—the main one was getting through the day.

She went to the front porch, where she found Ben sitting in a chair he’d brought from his room and looking off down the valley. He took the pipe from his mouth.

“I see Luis couldn’t stand it any longer,” he said quietly.

“Is he going to the Indian camp?” she asked with some alarm.

“No, lass. Luis knows where his responsibility lies. He’ll just scout around. He won’t do anything foolish. Sit down, we’ll wait together.”

“Is it always like this when he goes to the camp, Ben?” Johanna asked after she was seated.

“There’s always worry when the Apaches come to the valley.”

“Why is this time different? Why is Luis so edgy? Is it just because it’s such a large encampment?”

“Not exactly. For some time now the braves Luis trades with have been getting bolder, more resentful of our being here. You have the right to know, lass—Luis thinks the Apaches may go to war against the whites. That don’t necessarily mean against us,” he added quickly. “The Apaches are a people of their word. If they say they will leave us in peace, they will.”