The Valiant Women (31 page)

“I have taught
my brother
what he may need to know, but I pray every day that Juh will die before he can take James away!”

Shea put his arm around her soothingly, but Talitha glared ferociously at the massive Indian, no longer afraid though her body continued to shake.

“You are brave. You hate well. And you are clever.” Mangus gave her a long stare. “Maybe it is you we should have claimed rather than the boy.”

Rising lithely, he watched James patting Miguel and Patrick. “I shall tell the father of your brother that he is well,” he said to Talitha with the hint of a smile. “You have fine sons now, Hair of Flame. I hope they never fight my people. When they are old enough to understand, tell them they were carried in a cradleboard of the Din-eh.”

He stooped to clear the doorway. For a moment his great shadow darkened it and then he was gone.

XVII

It was a cold winter with blowing snow, but somehow Chuey managed to ride often enough to El Charco to convince Pedro Sanchez that Anita could be safely entrusted to him. The problem of a priest was solved by Shea's assuming civil power as the head of a settlement and performing before the madonna in the
sala
a brief ceremony which was followed by a long feast.

Santiago and Belen took up lodgings in the
sala
, leaving their quarters to Anita and Chuey till the couple's house was finished. James now slept on a pallet close to Talitha's in the kitchen. A long storeroom was added that spring, forming a right angle with the kitchen. The ranch structures were beginning to form a rough square around a space where most of the fruit trees were planted. Socorro intended to plant wild flowers and herbs there, too, and Shea said they'd dig a well so the women wouldn't have to go to the creek for water.

That would be a big help in winter, though in summer Talitha rather enjoyed taking laundry to the creek, sudsing with powdered yucca root, and scrubbing stubborn spots with fine sand.

James was toddling into everything, endlessly curious, and had to be watched. The twins required most of Socorro's strength and time. So, with Tjúni gone, it was fortunate that Anita took over much of the cooking and cheerfully helped with the other work. So delighted was she with her new husband and a house of her own that she sang while she bustled about the kitchen. She would frequently insist that Socorro rest with her feet up and make them both gourds of frothy chocolate from the
conducta
supplies.

Talitha and James had chocolate, too, at such times. James was such a special pet of Anita's that Talitha was sometimes jealous but she never showed it, remembering that a year ago only she, in all the world, had cared what happened to the dark-skinned blue-eyed little boy—except for Juh, of course!

Early that summer Talitha saw dust rising to the east, ran hastily to alert the men who were gentling horses so each would have a number of mounts to use during the cattle gather.

Coming out of the corral, the men ran for their rifles and the main house. Talitha sped to the creek for water in case they were besieged for several days. When she panted up the slope with both buckets, Shea met her and scooped them from her.

The dust churned nearer. Talitha strained her eyes. “Cattle!” she gasped. “Shea, there's hundreds of them!”

“Looks it,” he nodded, urging her through the door and barring it as he set the buckets down. “What I want to see is who's driving them!”

“It's the wrong direction for Apaches,” Santiago observed. “Going straight east, there aren't any ranches between here and Texas.”

“Going west, there's not much left except Papago and Pima
rancherías
,” added Shea. “We're pretty much an island, Tucson to the north and the other Sonoran towns south.”

Belen peered cautiously out a window. “Me, I don't guess where those cows come from or who drives. But
diablo!
They are big cows with very big and funny horns!”

Shea leaned over the Yaqui's shoulder. “God's whiskers! Longhorns! I saw them in Texas, every color of the cow rainbow!”

“Why, it's as my father said!” Socorro breathed, also gazing out. “The horns grow every direction and some spread longer than I am tall!”

“What're they doing here?” Shea marveled. “And how could they ever have come through all these miles of Indian country?” He grinned and slapped his leg. “Maybe they've got some of those Texas Rangers for herders!”

“Texas Rangers!” Socorro whispered, grasping him. “Shea, would they bother you?”

His hand went to the confused double brand on his cheek. “Don't see why they should. Texans aren't really Yanquis,
querida
. The ones I knew were always bragging about having been a free republic after they broke loose from Mexico and most of them still act like they come from a country all their own.”

“Here comes a man,” called Santiago, who had positioned himself in the bedroom.

Anita huddled by Chuey, Belen was with Santiago, the twins were suspended from a roof support pole in their fine cradleboard, and James squirmed among the adults like a puppy, vainly trying to see what was happening outside.

“If he's Apache, he's got on white man clothes,” grunted Shea, disengaging himself from Socorro's anxious hands. “I'll step out and see what he wants.”

“Take your rifle,” warned Santiago. “I'll come with you so he'll know you're not alone.”

“Both of you stay close to the house,” Socorro insisted. “You can get back in quickly if there's trouble.”

Talitha stood at the edge of the window with Socorro and watched as the stranger jogged slowly up. There was a rifle in his saddle scabbard, guns at each hip, a great sheathed knife, and his hair and eyes were the color of sand, lighter than his sun-burned skin.

“Howdy!” he called in English. “Damned if it ain't good to see someone 'cept them thievin', murderin' Apache devils!”

Shea laughed. “If all you did was see them, you were lucky!”

The sandy-haired man spat tobacco expertly to one side. “Not all that lucky! They picked off three of my men, ran off cattle four different times. We've been pushin' hard.” His eyes wandered to the creek, strayed along the broad grassy valley. “Sure would be obliged if we could rest here a few days, let the cattle graze and water good. I've heard the way to California's even worse than what we've come through.”

“California!”

The stranger offered his plug of tobacco, cut himself a hunk when it was refused. “Why, sure, California! Big prices out there for beef!” He grinned. “Them as want to pan for gold are welcome to it! I'll make mine out of sellin' these old longhorns that you cain't hardly give away back home!”

Shea and Santiago exchanged glances. They'd been planning to sell their culls to Tucson that fall. Shifting in his saddle, the Texan said, “If we can stop here, I'll pay you in cattle. We sure need a rest.”

“You're welcome,” Shea decided. “Spread your herd west. Even if they mix some with our cows, they're different enough to sort out! Then you and your men come along and eat with us.”

“Say, that's mighty kind of you.” Climbing down from his patient roan, the lanky man shook hands with Shea, and, after a moment's hesitation, clasped Santiago's hand, too. “We'll manage our own grub after this, but it would sure be fine to have a meal that's not scorched where it ain't raw!” He grinned. “I'm Will Thomas, late of the Texas Rangers.”

Santiago looked incredulous and Shea chuckled. “I just thought you might be. A Ranger, I mean. I'm Patrick O'Shea and this is my partner, Santiago Cantú. When you're ready to eat, you can meet the rest of the family.”

Talitha ran down to the marsh for more cattail roots to put in the stew while Socorro made more
posole
and Anita patted out her thin, perfect tortillas.

“I think it'd be good to send our cattle with him, if he's willing,” Shea told Santiago. “Even giving him a third of the profit, we'd still more than triple the money we'd get in Tucson.”

“And quadruple the chances of getting no money at all,” Santiago argued. “It's far to the gold fields. Even if this Señor Thomas makes the drive, what will ensure his remembering to stop at Rancho del Socorro when he's traveling with a heavy purse but no herd that needs graze and water?”

“Hell, Santiago, everything's a risk!”

“To be sure. But let us see a little more of these Texans before offering a deal.”

Shea gave his younger partner a blue-eyed look of disgust. “I never meant to propose it till we got his measure. Just wanted to know what you thought.”

“So now you do,” grinned Santiago. Shea gave him a grumpy look as the Texans paused outside the door, taking off their dusty, wide-brimmed hats.

Socorro invited them in. They looked at her as if she were a dream, trying not to stare, and bowed deeply as Shea introduced her. She blushed, slim as ever though her body was more gracefully rounded and accented by motherhood.

“You are welcome,” she told the men in her careful, pretty English.

Shea named Anita, Chuey and Belen, then dropped his hand to Talitha's shoulder. “This is our daughter, Talitha. Our son James is peeking at you from around the wall, and that pair in the cradleboard are our twins.”

“Quite a family!” Will Thomas complimented. His pale brown eyes warmed as he smiled at Socorro. “You seem much too young, ma'am!”

“James and I aren't really hers,” Talitha forced herself to blurt, though her heart had swelled with pride at being called the O'Sheas' daughter. “We—we were Apache captives, but Shea and Socorro talked Mangus into letting us go.”
And that's why, Texan, even if you cared, you couldn't make out the D beneath the crescent of that old horseshoe
.

“Mangus!” Thomas regarded Shea with fresh respect. “If you talked that heathen out of anything, mister, you've got more blarney than the rest of the Irish together! Wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't his bunch that killed my hands.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Say, you keep him in guns and ammunition? That why you're settin' here on this good land when everybody else seems to have been run right out of the country?” Shea stiffened. “I don't arm Mangus. But we are friends. And if that bothers you, Mr. Thomas, you better move on.”

After a clash of gazes, Thomas ground his heel sheepishly in the hard-packed dirt floor. “Reckon I was out of turn. No offense.”

“Then none taken.” Shea gestured toward the table. “Find a place and help yourselves!”

The Texans eagerly obeyed, each pausing long enough to nod as Will Thomas gave their names. “That butterball with the towhead is Lefty Wright. The bandylegged little rooster is Dallas Payson, and the one just as ugly as me is my kid brother, Joe.”

There wasn't room for everyone at the table so the vaqueros and Talitha and James filled their plates and sat on the adobe bench built as part of the wall.

“But surely there are cows in California!” Socorro was protesting. “My cousin's family had thousands! And there are many ranchers!”

Will Thomas shrugged. “Somebody says when the missions were taken over by the Mexican government, most of the mission herds were slaughtered just for hides and tallow. The remaining stock hasn't multiplied fast enough to take care of the Gold Rushers. After last December, when President Polk said in his annualmessage that there was sure enough gold in California, seemed like everyone who could crawl, walk or ride started west. Some say there'll be one hundred thousand new people there by the end of this year. And they'll need food.” He filled a tortilla with spicy stew, devoured it and sighed happily before he squinted at Shea. “Like I said, we've lost three men. If you can spare a couple, I'll pay 'em good wages to come along.”

Shea rubbed his chin. “Might be we could work something out. What do you think, Santiago?”

“That it would be fine to get Gold Rush prices for some of our beef.” Santiago turned to the Texan, speaking slowly in English, hesitating over some words. “Maybe two of us could help you, Señor Thomas. If you wait for us to round up some cattle and throw them in with yours.”

“How long?”

“Perhaps a week.”

“It's a deal,” said Thomas heartily, giving his hand first to Shea and then Santiago. “You get full price on your own cattle, and I'll still pay top wages to whoever comes along.”

“I'll go,” decided Santiago, gold eyes lighting. “Chuey? Belen?”

Anita put a protective arm through Chuey's, for even though most of the conversation had been in English, the gist of it was fairly evident. Chuey grinned and shook his head.

“With permission, Don Santiago …”

“I'll go,” Belen growled, “if none of the Sanchezes want to. Is it that we gather cattle and go with these
Tejanos
to California?”

Santiago nodded. “We'll start to brand and cull this very afternoon. And get the Sanchezes started.”

“We'll help,” said Thomas, who seemed to understand a good deal of Spanish though he didn't attempt to speak it. He smiled gallantly at the women. “I'd chase cows all day for a meal like this!”

“Then you must eat with us all the time you're here,” Socorro urged.

With the four Texans helping, as well as the Sanchezes, there was no question as to where a certain nine-year-old was most needed. Sighing, Talitha got down the twins who were starting to fret, changed their diapers and persuaded Socorro to lie down and rest while she fed them.

The next days passed in a rush. It seemed to Talitha that the Texans would surely consume all the food in the storeroom. No sooner were the breakfast dishes washed than it was time to start a noon meal to be carried wherever the men were working, and Talitha scarcely returned with
those
dirty dishes when supper had to be put on to cook. After six days, during which the Texas herd browsed happily and enjoyed the water, a hundred head of S cattle were ready to go. There would have been more but some of the late yearlings looked too puny for the long drive. Güero Sanchez had volunteered to go, so it was he and Santiago who rode off with the Texans, though Shea, Chuey and Belen helped gather the herd and start them out of the valley.