Redwing's Lady

by Stella Bagwell

  As Daniel unbuttoned his shirt, he walked over to the faded photo and peered into his mother’s face. Even though she was standing on the same rock steps leading up to the front door of this very house, the photo seemed rather surreal to him. The camera shutter had caught Pelipa with a smile on her face and a light in her eye. Obviously, the moment in time had occurred before Robert Redwing had left his family and ruined Pelipa’s life.

  Doing his best to push that dour thought from his mind, Daniel switched off the light and finished undressing. The week had been long and harrowing. He was numb with fatigue and desperately needed sleep.

  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he lay down on the narrow bed and turned his face toward the open window. Nights in the high desert were usually cool in summer, and the wind drifting through the open space carried the scent of sage across his pillow. The fragrance reminded him of Maggie and he fell asleep whispering her name.

  The next morning Daniel slept past sunrise, something he hadn’t done in years. Light was streaming through the window, warming his face and the sheet covering his body. He felt groggy and stiff. The realization hit him that he was in the same position he’d been in when he’d gone to sleep.

  He could hear sounds of his mother moving around in the kitchen and smell the delicious odors of coffee, chorizo and eggs. For the first time in several days he felt hungry. He threw back the sheet and reached for his clothes.

  After a quick wash, he found Pelipa in the kitchen, warming tortillas on an iron griddle. She was dressed in a tiered floral skirt with a long-sleeved shirt of a different pattern buttoned up to her neck. Her hair, which was mostly black with only a few gray streaks, was waist length, but she kept the wavy strands braided in a coronet on top of her head. Little birds, fashioned from turquoise stone, always hung from her earlobes, and a silver cuff bracelet circled her right wrist.

  To Daniel she had always been a gentle, beautiful woman. This was running through his mind as he went to her and kissed her cheek. “Good morning, Mother,” he said, then glanced around. “Where’s Grandfather?”

  Pelipa carefully flipped one of the flour tortillas. “He’s already had breakfast. He’s gone to take care of his dogs.”

  “I’ll go visit him later,” Daniel said as he found himself a coffee cup and filled it from the drip pot on the gas stove. He’d bought his mother a modern coffeemaker last year thinking it would make the morning chore easier for her. The gift was still sitting in the closet, another example of her unwillingness to change.

  While he sipped, Pelipa asked, “Did you sleep well, my son?”

  “I don’t think I even rolled over. I was very tired. The department has been working overtime since Quito was shot. Trying to find clues and track down leads. And then I drove every evening to Farmington to sit in his hospital room.”

  “I thought there was a hospital in Aztec,” she said.

  “There is,” Daniel replied. “But the facilities aren’t as well equipped to handle severe injures like Quito’s.”

  Pelipa looked at him with gentle eyes. “Well, I’m glad he’s better. But I’m sure it will be a long time before he can work again. You and Jess will have to take care of things, yes?”

  Daniel smiled at her confidence in him. “Yes. And we will. Quito can rest easy on that.”

  She motioned for him to take a seat at the kitchen table, where she carried a plate filled with chorizo sausage and eggs and several warm tortillas.

  Daniel dug hungrily into the food while his mother washed dishes at the sink. She was not one for many words, and he was finished with everything on his plate before she spoke again.

  “Would you like to go help me gather the eggs?”

  Gathering the eggs was a woman’s chore and something she normally wouldn’t ask Daniel to do. But he was happy that she seemed to want him along today, he thought as he rose from his chair and carried his dishes to the sink.

  “I’d be glad to. It’s been a long time since I saw the inside of the henhouse.”

  She collected a large basket from the pantry, and the two of them walked out a door leading to the backyard. From this side of the house, the ground was mainly flat and swept several miles into the distance before rock buttes jutted from the earth like sentinels guarding its native people. Closer to the house, the ground was rocky and mostly barren. Purple sage and clumps of wiry grass grew in tufts here and there. In a few spots prickly choya bloomed bright pink and yellow.

  Daniel supposed the area held its own rough beauty, but he’d often wished better for his mother. He’d even pleaded with her to move to Aztec, where she could have a yard with grass and gentle flowers without thorns in the summer. But this was where Pelipa felt comfortable and at home, so he didn’t push the issue.

  The henhouse was some thirty yards behind the house. It was built with a combination of old lumber and corrugated iron. Chicken wire surrounded the front of the structure and stretched several feet outward to make a yard for the hens to roam in without the chance of them being eaten by a coyote.

  Daniel opened the gate to the chicken yard and followed his mother inside. Several Domineckers and Rhode Island Reds were pecking at corn chips that Pelipa had scattered on the ground for them to eat.

  Daniel said, “You’ve gotten more hens since I was last here. Did you hatch some yourself?”

  “No. Your grandfather brought the Reds back from Cortez. I didn’t need them but he likes the nice big eggs. I’m thinking about letting one of the Domineckers set. Meda has been hinting that she’d like two or three.”

  Meda was a distant cousin who lived in Towaoc. Since the old woman didn’t drive and had no other family to speak of, Joe often drove her and Pelipa together to the grocery store and to do other necessary errands.

  Daniel said, “She doesn’t have a henhouse. Where would she keep them?”

  “Probably on the porch. You remember, son, her mother, Josie, was from the southern tribe. And she never was very civilized.”

  Daniel wanted to throw back his head and howl with laughter, but he couldn’t. Not when his mother was deadly serious.

  Instead he said, “Well, maybe once you get the chicks, Grandfather will be civilized enough to make her some coops to keep them in.”

  They went inside the little barn where several hens’ nests, made of hay packed in wooden crates, lined the walls.

  Pelipa handed Daniel the basket, then went to the first nest. “I wanted you to come out here with me so that I could talk to you,” she said as she dug a brown egg from under the hay.

  Daniel wondered what was wrong with talking inside the house, but he didn’t voice the question out loud. Like his grandfather, Pelipa had her reasons for doing things, and he’d been taught not to question their actions. They were his elders and his family, and he was to learn from them, not the other way around.

  “Okay,” he said.

  Pelipa went to the next nest and plucked up two more eggs. “Do you love this Maggie Ketchum?”

  As he watched his fragile mother move from one nest to the next, he figured she had lain awake most of the night thinking about him and his wish to marry. It wasn’t surprising that she wanted to question him on the subject this morning.

  “More than my own breath.”

  His mother turned and studied him for long, quiet moments and then she moved across the dirt floor to where he stood. After she placed the brown eggs in the basket, she lifted her hands and cupped them around his face.

  “Then you must go to her and tell her so.”

  Daniel’s heart squeezed with pain. “I’ve already told her, Mother. She’s afraid of losing me.”

  She gently patted both his cheeks before she dropped her hands to her sides. “I know what it’s like to lose a man. I understand what she’s gone through. It’s not something I would ever want to go through again. That’s why—”

  Pelipa stopped and looked away from him as though just talking about her husband shamed her.

  “That’s
why you’ve never remarried,” he finished for her.

  She nodded and Daniel sighed.

  “I am not like Robert Redwing,” he said firmly. “I would never, by choice, leave my wife or child.”

  Her expression solemn, Pelipa nodded again. “I am certain of that, too.”

  Daniel helplessly threw up his hands. “Then how am I going to make Maggie understand this?”

  “Go to her. Stand by her side no matter what. That’s where your father failed. When I needed him the most, he wasn’t strong enough to stand beside me.”

  Daniel wanted to shout with frustration. This last week without Maggie had been pure hell for him. His mind was constantly jammed with solutions to reason with her fear. So far he’d come up with none. He couldn’t even get the woman to talk to him!

  “And how can I do that if she won’t let me?” he asked his mother.

  A faint smile lifted the corners of Pelipa’s mouth. “If she loves you, she will let you.”

  His mother made it sound so simple and easy. And maybe it was, he thought, with a sudden spark of hope. Maybe staying away from the T Bar K and not forcing her to speak with him was giving Maggie the wrong impression about his commitment to her. If she saw that he wasn’t going to back down or give up on her, she might take a second look at their situation.

  Bending his head, he placed a kiss on Pelipa’s forehead. “Thank you, Mother, for understanding. I’ll try again with Maggie, and keep trying until I can convince her.”

  “Good.”

  A wistful smile crossed his face. “And now that we are on the subject, don’t you think it’s time that you put the past behind you and found yourself a companion?”

  She looked at him in shocked wonder. “Daniel, you know that I’m too old for such things!”

  “You’re not old, Mother. The heart is never too old to love. Maggie has taught me that much.”

  Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, and then she stared down at the basket and the eggs nestled among the straw. “I’ll think about that, Daniel. I’ll think about it really hard.”

  Hope surged inside him, and he gathered his mother close to his chest and hugged her tight.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Later that afternoon on the T Bar K, Maggie was breathing a sigh of relief as she talked on the telephone to Victoria.

  “The doctor says Quito is steadily improving. Jess thinks he might even get out of the hospital by the end of next week.”

  “I’m so glad to hear this news,” Maggie said to her sister-in-law. “That morning when I drove up on the scene—” She stopped and shuddered as the memory of the overwhelming fear she’d experienced washed over her. When she’d spotted Daniel, alive and well, something inside her had snapped. She’d been angry. Angry because she’d been so afraid, and angry because he’d put her in such a situation in the first place. “Well…I’m just glad Quito’s going to recover.”

  “Jess says Daniel is wearing himself out driving over to Farmington every evening to sit with him. For the first two nights after the accident, Daniel didn’t even leave the hospital. Jess ordered him to go home and get some sleep, but Daniel refused. You know, Quito doesn’t have any family. None that we know of, and I guess Daniel wants to be there for him.”

  Yes, Daniel would be that way, Maggie thought wistfully. He was a good man with a good heart. She could look to the ends of the earth and never find one that she could love more. So why couldn’t she be brave enough to tell him she would be his wife?

  “He’s very close to Quito,” was all that Maggie could manage to say.

  Victoria didn’t reply for several moments, and Maggie was about to ask her if she was still there when the other woman asked, “How are things with you and Daniel?”

  The question had Maggie staring numbly at the living room wall. These past few days she’d never missed anyone as much as she’d missed Daniel. It was killing her to stay away from him, to avoid the telephone when his number lit up on Caller ID. She honestly didn’t know how much more she could go on before she began to break apart.

  “Not good.”

  “Why?”

  “Victoria! I’ve told you why. The man is a deputy! He could wind up shot just like Sheriff Perez. Only, he might not be so lucky as Quito. It might kill him! I can’t deal with that kind of uncertainty.”

  Victoria huffed out an impatient breath. “Jess was shot and nearly killed, too. But I didn’t run off wringing my hands. Just ask yourself, Maggie, do you want to live your life alone and miserable? Would that be better?”

  Dropping her head, Maggie massaged the deep furrows in her forehead. “I…just don’t know anymore, Victoria. I desperately want to see him, but I think that would only make things worse and…”

  She paused as Aaron ran into the room and spotted her talking on the telephone. In an instant he was standing at the side of her chair, shaking her arm for attention.

  “Uh, excuse me, Victoria. Aaron just came in. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Scowling at her son, she placed the receiver back on its hook. “Why were you interrupting my conversation?” she demanded. “I’ve told you never to do that unless it was an emergency.”

  The boy pushed out his lower lip. “Well, it was an emergency. I wanted to know if you were talking to Daniel.”

  Maggie let out an inward sigh. For several days now, Aaron had been listening for the phone and watching the road, expecting Daniel to call or show up in the front driveway. And every day that passed without a word from Daniel, she could see her son growing gloomier and gloomier.

  “No,” she said to him. “I was talking to your aunt Victoria.”

  Crestfallen, he muttered, “Oh. I was hoping it was him. Today is Saturday, and he doesn’t work on Saturday. He might come over if you’d call him.”

  Maggie rose from the chair and began to gather up a clutter of dirty dishes and papers from the coffee table. “No. We’ve been through this before, Aaron. Daniel and I…well, we have some problems to work out.”

  Aaron jammed his hands on his hips as he glared angrily at his mother. “Why won’t you talk to him? It’s your fault that he won’t come see me! You’ve told him to stay away. You don’t care that I love him and want him to be my father!”

  Maggie was incredulous at Aaron’s outburst, and she straightened up from the coffee table to stare at her son.

  “Aaron! You have a father!” She walked over to the fireplace mantel and plucked down a picture of Hugh. Pointing toward the glass, she said, “This was—is your father!”

  Aaron strode over to her, and Maggie’s heart nearly broke as she spotted the tears in his eyes and the quiver of his compressed lips.

  “I’m not a little baby, Mom. I’m old enough to understand that Hugh Ketchum was my real dad. But he’s not here anymore. He can’t talk to me or do things with me. Just looking at his picture doesn’t make up for any of that.”

  Her first instinct was to scold him again for not showing more respect, but the words died quickly on her tongue. She hadn’t been the only person to suffer because of Hugh’s death. Aaron had suffered, too, and because of her fear of the future, she was continuing to make her son pay the price.

  Placing her arm around his shoulders, she gently pulled him to her side and hugged him tightly. “Aaron, I’m sorry. I should have been listening to you. I should have been thinking about your wants instead of just mine. Will you forgive me?”

  He looked up at her and blinked back the tears. “Will you call Daniel?”

  She nodded slowly. “But don’t expect him to race right over here to see you. He has work and lots of other things to do.”

  And he might not ever want to speak to her again, Maggie thought sickly. And she could hardly blame him. So many times he’d tried to reach out to her, and she’d done nothing but push him away.

  Maggie walked over to the phone and punched in Daniel’s number while Aaron danced around on his toes and rubbed his hands together with glee. But his joy was short-lived
when she hung up the phone without speaking.

  “What’s the matter? Didn’t he answer?” Aaron questioned.

  Maggie shook her head. “I reached his answering machine. He’s out of town and won’t be back until later this evening.”

  “Oh. Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait,” he mumbled.

  Unable to stand the sight of her son being so dejected, Maggie suddenly suggested, “Okay. What do you say the two of us walk down to the ranch yard and take a long ride on a couple of horses from the remuda? By the time we get finished with the ride, Daniel might be home.”

  It wasn’t often that Maggie rode horseback with her son, so the unexpected gesture pleased him immensely and he flung his arms around her waist. “Yeah! Thanks, Mom!”

  The drive from Towaoc to Aztec had never seemed longer to Daniel. On several of the long, straight stretches across the desert, he’d pretty much floored his truck and broken all sorts of speed limits. It was good he hadn’t met a highway patrol. Daniel wasn’t sure how he would have explained his reckless driving. No officer of the law wanted to hear lovesickness as an excuse for speeding.

  But now that he’d talked to his mother, he was more than just anxious to see Maggie. He felt determined and even more certain that the two of them were meant to be together. Now all he had to do was convince her of that.

  The winding mountain road to the T Bar K was rough and rocky, and once he started the climb to the ranch yard, Daniel had to slow his speed greatly. He was creeping past the barns and feed lots, heading up the mountain to Maggie’s house, when the corner of his left eye suddenly caught a flash of red and brown colors moving rapidly.

  Slowing the truck, he looked over toward the ranch yard and spotted a commotion in one of the dusty lots. A horse was bucking wildly, sending plumes of red dust rising into the air. The other horses tied nearby to a long hitching post were breaking loose in fear and racing around the lot, searching for a place to flee the uproar.