Santa Fe Mourning

by Amanda Allen

  Juanita took her arm as they walked toward the house where Refugio’s wife waited, the enticing scent of fresh tortillas and spicy stew wafting toward them.

  “Did you hear, Señora Maddie?” Juanita said quietly. “Father Malone has found the girls places at the Loretto school! Starting in the autumn term. They can live at home and be day students. He thinks Pearl especially has a real talent for mathematics, though they are going to need tutoring in history this summer.”

  “That’s wonderful, Juanita!” Maddie said. “Of course I will help them study.” Though she feared the house would be much too quiet without their hijinks all day.

  “They will have a good future. Or at least the chance of one.” Juanita glanced back sadly at the churchyard, those two lonely graves.

  Maddie squeezed her arm. “Could you come with me for a moment, Juanita? I want to show you something.”

  Juanita looked cautiously curious, but she nodded and followed Maddie to where Olive’s dusty old roadster was parked in the shade of a cottonwood. Maddie took a package from the boot.

  She tore off the brown paper wrapping and held it up to show Juanita. It was the portrait of the twins, sitting together in her studio, their arms linked. Their white dresses and pink hair bows were all that was proper for young ladies, but their smiles shone with mischief. With joy in the hope of the future, just as their mother hoped.

  Juanita pressed her hand to her mouth. Her dark eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “Oh, Señora Maddie. It’s beautiful. Just like them. My lovely, lovely little girls.”

  “It’s for you,” Maddie said. She held the canvas out to Juanita. “A little thank-you for everything you do.”

  Juanita gasped. “Oh, no! All your hard work? It is too much. It should be in the museum show.”

  “You know I could never bring myself to sell it. It’s rightfully yours. Only once I knew that could I finish it.”

  Juanita stared at it in silence for a long moment. Finally, she nodded. “Only if we can hang it in the sitting room for now.”

  “Right over the fireplace, of course.” Maddie quickly kissed Juanita’s cheek and smiled. “Now let’s go try some of that delicious-smelling stew. You need to eat and keep up your strength, and I can’t wait to hear all about your lovely family.”

  EPILOGUE

  “Are you sure, Señora Maddie?” Juanita said. Her reflection in the dressing table mirror was deeply worried.

  “Absolutely sure,” Maddie said decisively. “Just do it, Juanita.”

  “Perhaps you should wait until next week after the party. If it goes wrong . . .”

  “How can it go wrong? I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Juanita sighed and reached for the scissors. She frowned, lifted a long lock of Maddie’s dark hair, and cut it off.

  “You see?” Maddie said. “Easy peasy.”

  “If you say so.” Juanita went about the rest of her task with careful concentration. In only a few minutes, Maddie’s long hair lay on the sheet under her feet, and she had a crisp, chin-length bob.

  She turned her head, examining every angle. It felt so light, the bare nape of her neck so cool. She shook her head in delight and laughed. “Oh, it’s wonderful! I can see why it’s so fashionable. We should do yours now, Juanita.”

  Juanita shook her head. “Oh, no. I like my hair just as it is. But it does look becoming on you, Señora Maddie.”

  Maddie slid a diamond clip into one side and examined the effect. “What do you think, girls?”

  Pearl and Ruby sat on her bed, watching the proceedings with wide eyes as they petted Buttercup’s ears. After all her heroics, the dog had happily gone back to being a spoiled house pet, growing fatter on all her special treats.

  “You look like you’re in a movie,” Ruby said.

  Maddie laughed. “Then you must help me choose the right film star gown. The party’s starting soon.”

  As they sorted through the wardrobe, making piles of “no” and “maybe” dresses, Maddie watched them with a smile. Somehow every moment felt brighter now, as if a cloud had lifted and the sky was an endless blue again.

  Once Eddie had been cleared, he had gone back to San Ildefonso with his uncle Diego to visit Juanita’s family for a while. He was supposed to return when Rob Bennett and his sister, Madame Genet, who had been caught trying to flee town with the proceeds from her customers’ phony séances, went on trial. In the meantime, Maddie had worked on new paintings and Juanita had cooked far too much food for their dinners, which meant that David had to be invited to share in it rather often.

  And tonight he was going to escort her to the first public viewing of her work. Maddie couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so excited—or so nervous. Whether it was the thought of having people look at her paintings or having a date for the first time since Pete, she didn’t know.

  There was a knock at the door, and Juanita smiled. “I’ll answer it, Señora Maddie. You finish getting dressed. Girls, come along and let her decide on a frock.”

  Maddie gave her a shaky smile. “Are you sure it’s okay? My hair, I mean. Do you think he—well, people—will like it? I’m not sure . . .”

  Juanita laughed. It was the first time Maddie had heard her laugh, really laugh, in quite a while, and it sounded good. Very good. It sounded like—for the moment, at least—things were right in their little world.

  “You look like someone in the fashion papers,” Juanita said. “And anyway, it’s too late to change your mind now.” She hurried to answer the door, and Maddie stood up to examine herself in the mirror.

  She chose her pink silk and chiffon again, with a new gold cashmere shawl and her grandmother’s rope of pearls. With her hair shorter, she felt so light and young that she was sure she could twirl and twirl up into the sky.

  She glanced at Pete’s photo and gave him a smile. “I know you would approve, my dearest,” she said. And he would. He would love to see what she was doing now—the art, the hairstyle, even being chased by villains. All of it. She knew she didn’t need a medium go-between to talk to her husband. He was always there when she needed him. And now he wanted to see her go out and have a lovely evening.

  She picked up her beaded evening bag, tucked in her lipstick and compact, and hurried out to meet her date.

  David was laughing with the girls, who were skipping around and telling him all about their latest doll theatricals as he stroked Buttercup’s ears and made her wag her tail. They all seemed to like him so much and were so comfortable around him, Maddie thought as she watched them. He seemed to bring light and laughter into the room whenever he was there. Even the sad shadows she had once seen in his own eyes seemed lessened. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, to crash again to the cold, hard earth as she had too many times before. Yet he made her smile too. And that was good enough for today.

  He looked up and saw her standing there in the doorway. His jaw dropped just a bit.

  Maddie laughed nervously and gave a little twirl. “Do you like it? I decided to join the modern age at last!”

  “Are you sure you’re an artist and not a vamp?” he said with a laugh. “I would think I was looking at Theda Bara!”

  Maddie laughed harder. “It’s just me, plain old Madeline, I’m afraid. A few pounds lighter, though.”

  He took her hand and spun her in a foxtrot step that made the girls applaud in delight. “You look stunning with any hairstyle you choose. I’m a lucky man tonight.”

  “You should go on now,” Juanita said, “or you’ll be late. All your paintings will be sold before you even get there.”

  Maddie wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and kissed the girls good-night before she headed out into the evening on David’s arm. Spring was sliding into summer already, and the breeze was warm and soft.

  “I thought we might walk since it’s such a lovely evening,” he said. “But I can call a car if you’re tired.”

  “Not at all! A walk would be wonderful; it’s so warm tonight. And the st
ars are coming out!”

  He smiled, and they walked hand in hand toward the plaza, chatting companionably about his day’s work at Sunmount, the progress of her newest painting, and gossip about their friends in town.

  “Maddie,” he said, suddenly serious as they made their way through the evening’s promenade on the gravel pathways and the soft green grass of the plaza. “Are you sure you’re recovered from everything that’s happened?”

  She glanced up at him to find him watching her with a worried glint in his blue eyes. “Of course. Your friend Dr. McKee at the hospital examined my scrapes and bruises and proclaimed me quite well.”

  “But how do you feel? It’s not every day most of us get chased through the streets by a murderer.”

  “I guess not. I admit I do sometimes have a bad dream or two. But we’re all safe now. Work helps me forget.” She glanced back over her shoulder at the crowds of the plaza, the young couples smiling shyly at each other, their mothers fanning themselves and chatting, the ice cream cart and the band playing from the wrought-iron stage. “It doesn’t seem like such a dark cloud would be lurking under the surface here, does it?”

  He smiled. “Surely you know from your detective novels that darkness lurks everywhere. All we can do is try to dig it out into the light. It dies in the sunshine. And that’s what you did for this town by getting rid of Bennett and his gang.”

  Maddie sighed. “I hope so. I don’t feel brave at all, though. Just rather silly. At least Eddie’s safe now, and Juanita and her children can start to rebuild their lives. It’s a shame, though.”

  “A shame?”

  “Yes. He really did make the best orange blossoms in town.”

  David laughed, and they hurried up the steps into the art museum. She’d just been there the day before, helping Olive with the last pictures to be hung for the sale, but now it all looked transformed. Chinese lanterns cast a soft golden light on the flagstone floors and the pale-tan walls, giving the jewel colors and rich textures of the paintings a life of their own. The galleries were already crowded with people in evening clothes, sipping from Venetian glass goblets and chattering over the work.

  Maddie glimpsed Olive, a tall figure in her red velvet Navajo skirt and heavy turquoise necklaces, explaining a scene of a tin-roofed farmhouse and improbably green-colored horses in the blue grass yard to a group of buyers, her hands waving dramatically in the air. David was stopped by two of his patients, so Maddie drifted through the rooms, examining the works, sampling the spiced cider, and munching a tiny lobster roll from a waiter’s tray.

  Among the bright, merry crowd, Maddie glimpsed an incongruous figure—Inspector Sadler in his tweed coat. The man munched on a tiny crab cake and studied one of the paintings with a frown on his face. Maddie made her way toward him, determined to be friendly now that the real killer was safely caught. Even if the man did set her teeth on edge.

  “Well, Inspector,” she said. “Lovely to see you here. I hope it’s not a threat to any of the artwork that called you out?”

  He glanced down at her balefully, the crab cake held in his hand. “Not at all, Mrs. Alwin. Our department has been tasked with a bit of—community outreach.”

  Maddie bit back a laugh. “Community outreach? Whatever is that?”

  “Meet the people in town, get to know them. It will make connections easier to spot when crimes happen. One of the newest techniques in modern policing.”

  “I see. It does sound rather useful.” Maddie glanced around the gathering, wondering about the “connections” between all the people there, what would happen next. “All’s well that ends well, eh, Inspector?”

  “I suppose it is,” he said in a grudging tone. “But I have to warn you to be more careful in the future, Mrs. Alwin. You never know what’s really going on in your own backyard.”

  “No,” Maddie answered slowly, thinking of everything that had happened, all she had learned. “You really don’t.” She gave him a smile and left him to his crab cakes, drifting through the galleries.

  “Darling, there you are!” Gunther called. His green-and-white polka-dotted cravat gleamed as he kissed her cheek. “Here, have some more of this delicious planter’s punch. Not much punch to it, I’m afraid, but I added just a touch of my own.”

  “Gunther, you are an angel,” Maddie said and took a drink from his glass. “I do need a bit of courage before I look at my own paintings, hanging there for everyone to see.”

  “No fears there, my love! You’ve already sold one, and I’ve seen several plump collecting pigeons eyeing the other.”

  “Really?” Maddie cried.

  “Would I lie to you? Come on, you can see the little red dot for yourself.”

  They made their way through the crowd, past large portraits and landscapes, to find her two small scenes on one of the most prominent partitions. There was indeed a “sold” dot on the image of her house and garden, and a small knot of people gathered around the other painting, talking together in low voices.

  Maddie took a long moment just to watch it all, to let the warm, happy glow erase her fears for just a moment. She had done what her family said she couldn’t—created something beautiful from her own mind and paintbrush that other people could enjoy. She had said something with her imagination, declared that despite everything the world and life could be worthwhile.

  “You see that man there?” Gunther said, gesturing to a portly gentleman who was studying her paintings with a monocle. “He’s from the Santa Fe railway. Rumor has it he’s looking for images for the new calendar.”

  “Really?” Maddie gasped. “They pay hundreds of dollars when they use a print.”

  “And your work is just as good as Blumenschein’s or anyone else’s. If we both keep fingers ever so tightly crossed . . .”

  Maddie laughed and held up her hand to show her crossed fingers. “Dreams do come true sometimes.”

  “Darling!” he cried, seizing her hand in his. “You took off your ring.”

  “Yes.” She studied the narrow white shadow on her finger where her diamond wedding ring had been. “I hope Pete would understand.”

  “How could he not? You’re young; you have a new life now and years to live it. Even bootleggers can’t bring you down! It doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten him. We never forget them, do we?” He gave her a sad smile, as if he understood loss and remembrance.

  “Of course I do remember him. I always will.”

  “Speaking of a life to live, how is the gorgeous English doctor?”

  Maddie smiled. “Very well. He’s over there talking to the Hendersons. His patients, as well as big patrons of the arts here.”

  They both turned to study David, whose hair shone in the golden light. He gave them a wave and a broad smile, and Gunther sighed.

  “You are lucky, darling,” he said and took a sip of his punch.

  “I’m beginning to think so.”

  “Did I tell you I’ve started a new novel?”

  “No! What happened to the last one?”

  He took her arm, and they walked along the line of paintings, studying Olive’s portrait of the Martinez couple and their gleaming black pottery. “It just wasn’t working. I’m not in the romance mood, I suppose.”

  “Then what’s the new one?”

  “A detective novel, of course. An English lad who comes West to take back his family’s silver mine from a terrible villain. Until he’s wrongly arrested when there’s a murder.”

  “It sounds terribly intriguing.”

  “I thought so. We can’t let Father Brown have all the fun, can we? Three chapters are done so far. My editor seems interested.”

  “Oh, Gunther, that’s wonderful!”

  “But I need you to solve some more cases. It’s such marvelous inspiration.”

  Maddie shook her head. “No more of that for me. I’m settling down to a calm, quiet life now.”

  “No, darling! You are never meant for calm. You would be bored in a day. We both would. Now w
hat do you think of this painting? I love the storm coming over the mountain.”

  They stopped to examine a large scene of distant purple peaks and roiling dark clouds. “I think I prefer sunshine now. But this is very dramatic.”

  She was absorbed in examining the elegant brushstrokes of the sky, the tiny hint of gold light in the corner, when she heard someone calling her name above the murmur of the crowd. “Maddie! Oh, Maddie, there you are. Finally.”

  Madeline whirled around, startled. She saw a petite, waifish woman with silvery-blond hair cut in an Eton crop pushing her way through the knots of people around the paintings. Her elfin face was so familiar to Maddie, but it was usually laughing, alight with mischief. Now it was pale, the eyes shadowed by purplish crescents, her fine tweed travel suit and silk blouse rumpled.

  “Gwen?” she cried as her cousin threw herself into Maddie’s startled arms. The last time she’d seen Gwendolen Astor, Maddie had been waving her off from the train station at Lamy, watching her continue their planned trip to California while Maddie stayed in Santa Fe. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  “Oh, Maddie,” her cousin sobbed. “I’m in such trouble . . .”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Thank you so much for spending some time with me in my beloved hometown of Santa Fe! Even though we’ve lived here only a few years, I’ve been visiting northern New Mexico since I was four years old, and it always felt like “home” to me, a beautiful place with a special magic. I’ve also always loved the 1920s—the clothes, the cars, the films, and even the silly slang—so this series is a dream come true for me!

  Maddie, the Anayas, Dr. Cole, and their friends (and their foes, like Inspector Sadler!) are fictional, but Santa Fe is filled with a rich history, and I loved using just a few real people and places in the story.