Talitha stared at the pulsing thick cord connecting the baby to his mother. What did you do with that?
Shea looked equally helpless, but then he said, “Must be like any creature!” and cut through that vibrating cord with the knife. “There should be some stuff to come out,” he muttered. “But first—”
Taking the tiny wriggling creature, he held it up in the last rays of the sun. “Our son.” His laughter was hoarse with relief. “Look at that black hair! Just like yours!”
“But he should have red hair!” Socorro protested. She grimaced. “I—I don’t feel as if he’d been born! There—there’s still something!”
“Afterbirth,” Shea told her.
“No,” said Tjúni who’d come back unnoticed. “More baby.” She stooped to Socorro, held a small jug to her mouth. “Drink this. Make strong. Other baby want to come quick.”
“Twins?” growled Shea. “My God, is this what our mother had with Michael and me?” Handing the baby to Talitha, he chafed Socorro’s hands. “Lass, lass, I’m sorry!”
After she’d drunk Tjúni’s brew, she’d lain back, eyes shuttered, but now she looked up at him with a scolding smile. “Sorry we’ll have fine sons? You are a burro redhead! Now let me push against you.…”
Within minutes, the second boy emerged. Tjúni helped bring out the afterbirth which she thrust deep in the hollow of a tree and covered with rocks. She made Socorro drink more tea and then Shea carried his wife homeward while Tjúni and Talitha followed, each with a baby wrapped in old shawls. The second had red hair.
Wouldn’t Tjúni have helped Socorro? Talitha wondered, glancing sideways at the Indian woman. Maybe she didn’t know how, but neither did I.
It was twilight when they reached the house, walking because Socorro couldn’t ride. Santiago moved out of the shadows at their approach as if he’d been waiting, and his limp was pronounced as he passed in front of the door.
“Doña Socorro? She’s safe?”
She laughed hazily, “There are twins, Santiago! And one can be called Hair of Flame!”
“If they were deformities, being yours they would still be beautiful!” Santiago returned fervently. “You should eat now. You must be strong to feed that pair!” His voice cracked. “I was ready to hate them for your pain, lady, but it seems for your sake I must love them.”
Frowning down at the babies, he extended a finger to each, grinned at the ferocity with which he was seized. “Ay, what ropers they will make! Nothing will escape them!”
Chuey and Belen came shyly forward, murmuring good wishes to Socorro and peering, fascinated, at the twins. Telling them to fetch the horses from the creek, Shea carried Socorro to the bedroom, and soon she had a child at either breast, mouthing hungrily, though of course she wouldn’t have real milk for a few days. They seemed happy with the thin pale liquid that dribbled from their lips, though.
Shea brought a candle, a luxury from the conducta, and lit it. In spite of her ordeal, Socorro looked lovely with her children in her arms, their small downy heads nuzzling against her. She smiled at Shea.
His blue eyes were dark with something that made Talitha feel like an intruder. She went to the kitchen and filled bowls with posole which she carried back to them. Shea and Socorro thanked her, but their gazes never left each other.
Shrinking within herself, Talitha collected James from Santiago, bent over him as she spooned gruel into his eager mouth. Shea and Socorro had their own children now. They wouldn’t have much time to bother with a pair of waifs.
But I’ll take care of you, James! Talitha promised silently, blinking back tears. I’ll love you enough to make up for your not having anyone else!
Strong brown hands scooped James out of her lap. “Eat your own supper, little one, and let me feed my godson!” commanded Santiago.
Belen handed her a scrap of thin hide. “Another cow for you, doncellita.”
Chuey produced a dark feather that glinted with gold in the firelight. “From an eagle,” he said, and gave it to her.
Talitha’s heart swelled, crowding out the tight unhappiness. Why, the twins would need care; she could help with them! And James would be their big brother. She loved Shea and Socorro best, of course, but Santiago and the vaqueros were also her family. With two new babies to love and play with, life would be better than ever!
For a while, the twins had limpid deep blue eyes that seemed a mixture of all colors, but gradually Miguel’s turned hazel while Patrick’s were bright blue. When the fine baby hair dropped off, Miguel’s new curls were black but Patrick’s shone rich deep red. They looked much alike except for coloring, though Patrick was thinner and bigger.
At first it hadn’t seemed possible that anyone as slight as Socorro could nourish two babies, but she had plentiful milk. Shea made her rest and eat till she protested, laughing, that she was getting fat, and insisted on resuming more of her work.
When the twins were a month old, Tjúni abruptly announced that she was leaving, going to her promised part of the westerly San Manuel sitio.
“But we’ll have our Roof Feast next month,” Shea reminded her after the startled silence that greeted her words. “That’ll mark a year since we got good shelter. You should wait for that, at least!”
“More than a year since I meet you at Sonoyta,” she answered. “Piñon time, agave roasting, cholla budding, corn and squash planting, time of cattail pollen, tunas and grapes—through all seasons I with you. Your roof mean nothing to me.”
Shea started to argue but Socorro intervened quickly. “You must take plenty of food and all the other things you’ll need,” she said. “And this is your home, if you ever want to come back.”
“Your home,” countered Tjúni. She looked straight at Shea for a moment before she said as if to herself, “But I make own house.”
“I’ll go with you,” offered Santiago. “There’s a fairly sound building that I can help you thatch and I’ll butcher a cow for you.” He grinned. “Would you like me to find you a likely man in Tubac or Tumacácori?”
“I choose man,” she said curtly. Talitha wondered why Socorro’s face was suddenly so still.
Tjúni departed riding a mule while another carried a pile of household goods and necessaries. Talitha was glad to see the last of her for Tjúni had never laughed except scornfully and there was a sort of brooding about her that made Talitha uncomfortable.
Santiago and Chuey went with her, returning four days later with the news that Tjúni’s abode was thatched, a supply of wood amassed, and the meat of three cows was drying for jerky, for as if on signal, the day after the party arrived at the old San Manuel outpost, two Papago families had appeared, distant relations of Tjúni, driven from their home fields by Mexican bandits pillaging northward. So Tjúni wouldn’t be alone and there’d be more men to help with the cattle and in case of trouble.
In December, while Talitha and Socorro were preparing special foods for the Roof Feast, Shea said early one morning that he was going to Tubac and would be back next day.
Socorro knit her brow, suckling a baby at either breast. “I wish you wouldn’t! With Apaches and bandits out, it’s surely best to stay close to home.”
“I have business there,” Shea teased mysteriously.
She sniffed. “It had better not be business with skirts!”
“My love!” He chuckled, playing with a lock of her soft hair. “How can you think I’d have the energy?”
It turned stormy and cold the next day, adding to Socorro’s worry, but Shea rode in before sundown, leading Viejo whose aparejos were laden with what looked like dead branches but proved to be small trees with roots still embedded in soil.
“Pomegranates and peaches,” Shea explained as he leaned them against the wall just inside the door. “I thought it’d be nice to plant them on our Roof Day.” He shook his head grimly. “Don’t feel much like celebrating after what I saw in Tubac.”
Socorro’s frightened eyes lifted to him and the vaqueros frowned. “
Apaches,” Shea said. “They struck a few days ago, ran off the cattle and horses and promised they’d be back. The people who survived are gathering up their things and making for Tucson.”
“But the soldiers!” protested Socorro.
“Often there’s only five or so fit for duty,” Shea said wearily. “When I passed through Tumacácori on the way home, the Indians were taking the saints down from their niches and packing the vestments. They’re going to Tucson, also.”
The adults all looked at each other and Talitha shivered because these people, her safety and to her so powerful, looked devastated. Socorro’s head drooped.
“We had little to do with Tubac or Tumacácori,” she said. “Yet knowing the people were there made it seem as if we weren’t completely cut off.”
“They hope to come back in the spring,” Shea encouraged. But next day their Roof Feast was haunted by the knowledge that the nearest people of their kind were in Tucson, eighty miles away.
Even so, there was a solemn joy binding the group that knelt before the madonna in the sala. Shea thanked God for protecting them and besought His grace for all homeless ones, especially those driven so recently from the Santa Cruz Valley. Talitha squeezed her eyes shut and said her own prayer. Mother, don’t let anything happen to my family here and don’t let mean old Juh ever get James!
It looked as if it might snow, so as soon as the noon feast was over, they went outside to plant the trees. Socorro, bundling up the twins, selected spots where she wanted the pomegranates and peaches and the men were digging when Belen straightened.
He pointed, face a mask. From the west a lone rider was coming. Shea said quietly, “Santiago, why don’t you and Chuey get in the vaqueros’ quarters and have rifles loaded? Socorro, you and Talitha stay inside.”
“It’s Mangus,” said Talitha. She’d seen the chief so often that even at this distance, she recognized the set of his huge body. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She caught James’s hand, started to scoot him inside despite his indignant howl. “If—if Mangus wants James, say he’s dead or something!” she entreated, then hustled her sturdy little brother to the bedroom.
He shrieked that he wanted to see “Man-us” but Talitha cuffed him and said if he didn’t keep quiet the big Indian might eat him.
James’s garbled reply, deciphered, was that he didn’t want to be eaten and he was a very good boy. Talitha hugged him close, stricken at the big tear rolling down his blunt little nose. “I’m sorry I hit you, honey,” she whispered. “But sometimes you have to do what Tally says right away. Now stay there while I peek out the window!”
Dragging up a bench, she stood on tiptoe and watched Mangus nearing the men. When he was close enough for his features to be recognized, Socorro went out, and stood with her babies to receive him.
Talitha couldn’t hear what they said, but Mangus seemed to ask permission to hold the twins. Neither showed any fear of the huge Apache. Patrick reached up to touch Mangus’s face. After a moment, he gave them back to their mother’s arms. Turning to the pack behind his saddle, he brought out a cradleboard—a very wide one.
Talitha blinked and saw that it was made for twins. Soft buckskin lacings, a canopy that ran the width of the top of the board, with turquoise, feathers and other charms fastened to the top. When the boys were older, it would be a heavy load to carry, but would still be a convenient way to tuck them out of harm’s way when Socorro was busy.
So the visit was friendly. Probably through the miners, Mangus had learned about the twins. Talitha took a deep breath, then caught it in, as Socorro turned to the house and Mangus and Shea followed.
The Apache ate of the plentiful food of the feast, relishing the pumpkin candy, pipián, wild turkey in mole sauce, and innumerable tortillas and tamales. When he had consumed enough for four men, Mangus for the first time turned his attention to Talitha who had come to help serve him.
“Where is the son of Juh?”
Talitha cast Socorro and Shea a pleading glance. Shea said gently, in English, “Bring James in, Tally. Mangus only wants to be able to tell Juh he’s well and alive.”
Reluctantly, Talitha went to the bedroom. She’d been able to make James stay there only by saying there was a bad man in the kitchen. Now she had a hard time convincing James that the man wasn’t bad today, but at last she bribed him with the promise of more pumpkin candy.
“And don’t you cry in front of him!” she adjured her seventeen-month-old brother. “You knew him when you were a little baby so try to show him you’ve grown up!”
James clung to her skirt till they crossed the sala, but when he saw Mangus he did something that made Talitha’s scalp tingle. He stopped a judicious distance from the giant and greeted him in the Apache tongue, the words Talitha had grudgingly taught him in case her prayers availed nothing and James had to live with Juh.
Mangus gave her a swift, penetrating glance. He returned James’s greeting and watched him curiously as the child went over to examine his foster brothers’ elegant double cradleboard.
“So you have taught your brother the tongue of the Din-eh,” Mangus observed dryly. “Do you then so miss the sound of it?”
The taunt brought back her despair and anger, the terrifying loneliness after her mother died. Trembling with outrage rather than fear, Talitha hurled words at him with the wish they were fatal arrows.
“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 b
lue-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.”
The Valiant Women Page 23