“You’re teaching me more than I’m teaching you,” he said one night after the twins had vied in showing him how to cast a peal and mangana.
“But you don’t need to know what we can show you,” Talitha laughed. “An engineer doesn’t rope cows or plant corn or roast cholla buds!”
“This engineer plans to,” he retorted. “As soon as the new boundaries are fixed, I’m buying some land of my own adjoining the company’s.”
“You plan on staying in the valley permanently then?” asked Shea.
Marc nodded. “It’s got a grip on me. Marching mountains—everywhere you look, there’s a range and behind it another, and another till they fade into the sky. Green gentle country can never hold me again.” He smiled at Talitha. Weeks ago they had fallen into using first names. “So you see, Talitha, I’ll be very grateful if you teach me all you can.”
He was especially interested in medicinal plants. Talitha taught him what she knew and showed him the roots and herbs Nōnó had given her. “The lantana he told me to give Socorro didn’t help, though,” she said and was gripped with a wave of grief.
Socorro was dead six months now, and the sharpest loss was dulled, but when Talitha really thought of her, she felt a deep wrench of sorrow and rebellion.
To die at twenty-four, leaving a beloved husband and three small ones! It wasn’t fair, it shouldn’t happen! And James shouldn’t be up in the mountains with Apaches, he should be here!
Revier said quietly, “Perhaps it helped enough to get the child born. If Nōnó cured Shea of hydrophobia, he must have powerful skills.”
“Yes, and he told me a cure for snakebite that sounds awful enough to work.” Resolutely, Talitha directed her thoughts away from the ache of remembering Socorro. There had been so many happy times. She’d try to think of them, not those last hours.
“And what is this awful remedy?” Marc teased.
“Catch the snake and kill it, then take out its liver and gall and smear the gall on the bite. Eat as much of the liver as you can.” She made a shuddering face. “Ugh!”
Marc chuckled. “It might work, Talitha. I had a biology professor who thought very strong antitoxins are present in the bile of some animals. And in the Talmud it says hydrophobia can be cured by eating the liver of the dog that bit you! Nōnó’s in good company.”
That led to his explaining what the Talmud was and comparing it with the Koran, the Bible and the Zend-Avesta. Talitha darted him an incredulous look. “You didn’t have to learn all these things to be an engineer, did you?”
His blue eyes danced. “No, indeed. But let me tell you an important fact: all things being equal, streams tend to meander. And so do I. Most engineers don’t like that. They have their T-squares and angles and want to go in straight lines. But that’s ridiculous!”
Talitha eyed him dubiously. “It is?”
“Of course it is! It’s against nature which has precious few straight lines.” He blew out his cheeks and she guessed he was voicing an ingrained aggravation. “Men are crazy and scientific ones are the worst! What do they use for boundaries? Rivers! Rivers that shift drastically with any big flood! Now why, instead, not use a mountain range or a ridge that’s not going to alter?”
“From what you just said about streams meandering, I should think you’d like rivers for boundaries,” said Talitha.
His scowl changed to a surprised grin. “So I should! It’s one place where the engineers haven’t triumphed.”
She shook her head in laughing puzzlement. “I don’t understand you, Marc. You’re an engineer yet you grumble about their methods!”
“Mining engineers are different,” he said smugly. “Just remember this, my dear; there’s a rock at the bottom of everything!”
Casually, he taught her and the twins a little about minerals. How volcanic magma turned to igneous rock which might then become sedimentary or metamorphic; how conglomerate rocks were formed of many small rocks or pebbles cemented together by clay in some alluvial dump; and how the study of rocks led to a grand and staggering view of the world, a time before man existed, when plants and creatures both immense and miniscule left their traces in mud now hardened to stone.
It fascinated Talitha to hear Marc apply his scientific knowledge to everyday things. He pointed out that the white rocks at the bottom of a pool attracted enough light to permit algae to form. On a cold day, when they saw a prairie pheasant or paisano lying on a rock with its wings spread, he surmised that the dark patches in its plumage were soaking up sun to raise its body temperature. Once when they rode far enough west to find saguaros, he pointed out that the nesting cavities made in them by woodpeckers and flickers, and later used by sparrow hawks, elf owls and other birds not only provided a great measure of safety from predators but maintained a fairly steady temperature.
“Which is good in winter,” he said, “but how wonderful in summer when, I’m told, temperatures can go well over a hundred!”
Talitha laughed. “Oh, well over a hundred. For days and days and days!” She studied a saguaro cavity with fresh respect. “It’s too bad we can’t live in something like that!”
“Well, your thick adobe is a good insulator. Or people could get many of the same benefits by building in the side of a hill or partially underground.”
“But that would be so dark!”
“Not as glass gets more plentiful. One whole open side would give a lot of light and sun heat.”
“Which we certainly don’t need in the summer!”
“Heavy curtains could shut it out then, Talitha.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, reined his buckskin around for it was time they got back to the ranch. “It’s all a matter of properly using man’s brain on what God has provided.”
Without Marc’s wise and cheerful company most weekends and the challenge of studying in between, Talitha wouldn’t have been able to bear Tjúni’s presence even though Shea didn’t, at least openly, treat her any differently than he had before.
Talitha wished desperately that Santiago would come back and supply a balance. Since the night Shea had refused her, there’d been constraint between them. They seldom looked directly at each other or spoke more than was necessary. Talitha was sure that Tjúni had noticed and was glad of the estrangement.
It would have been a relief to pour all this out to Marc, but Talitha couldn’t babble about Shea’s private arrangements. Santiago would see and understand, though, without any words. With him there, she wouldn’t feel so alone. Apart from wishing he’d come for the comfort of his being at the ranch, she was increasingly worried as March advanced.
There were always Apaches and bandits but William Walker’s filibustering had made it even more hazardous for strangers to go wandering about Mexico, especially if they were looking for ports convenient to the region Mexicans felt had been all but stolen from them. So, while she hoped Judah Frost would never return, she prayed that Santiago would.
It was strange to start working the cattle that spring without Santiago urging Noche to turn some escaping steer, expertly roping the most elusive yearling, filling the air with good-natured obscenities flavored with Spanish color and elegance.
There was quite a mix of brands and earmarks. Santiago, a partner, shared those branded with Rancho del Socorro’s S; the Vasquez brothers used a V, Chuey Sanchez had an S lying on one side, and his father and brother at El Charco branded with a circle. Belen still insisted on contributing his share to Talitha. Her pile of señales had grown till she’d long ago had to start keeping them in a box Shea had made for her. It had used to give her a glow of ownership to see her Cross T on an animal but that had been when she vaguely dreamed that one day she and James would have their own small place near the ranch.
James. That ache, unlike the one for Socorro, seemed to get worse as time passed with no word of him. He’d gone off, blaming himself, thinking all of them blamed him; a terrible load for a little boy who wouldn’t have his seventh birthday till this July.
So Talitha got no particular thrill out of burning the Cross T on this twentieth unbranded cow that she and Belen had caught. As he let it up and she stepped out of its way, Belen straightened and peered up the arroyo.
“That horse—it looks like Señor Frost’s!”
Whirling, she gazed beyond the mist-gray mount, straining to glimpse the gleaming, black of Noche, but there was only the big gray and the pack mule. Talitha dropped the iron, untied Ladorada and urged her into a gallop.
Judah Frost’s handsome thin lips curved in a smile as she drew up beside him. “So eager, Talitha? You rejoice my heart!”
“Where’s Santiago?”
“Here comes your worthy guardian. Allow me to explain once and for all, my dear. I’m quite fatigued—”
“Is Santiago alive?”
Frost sighed plaintively. “Of course he’s alive. Very much so. Now please wait till the others gather ’round.”
Shea and Chuey were waiting with Belen when frost reined in Selim and slid from the saddle to shake hands with Shea and nod a greeting to the vaqueros.
“We found a port,” he said, “but you want to know about Santiago so I’ll tell you about him first. By now he must be married to a very pretty woman of mature years, the widow of a prosperous ranchero. We stopped at her home for shelter—she lives about halfway between Hermosillo and the proposed port, and she and Santiago made friends so quickly that I assure you I felt very much out of it. By the time we had rested enough to go on our way, she had persuaded Santiago not to.”
Shea looked dumbfounded. “Just like that? I’d have thought he’d come for his cattle and share of the mine proceeds.”
“His fair widow has more cattle than she can keep track of,” Frost grinned. “And she didn’t favor letting her potential husband risk himself in Apache country since it was on a trip to Tucson that her first one was killed. Santiago said to tell you his cattle are for his godson, young James. Talitha and the twins are to share the mining profits, with you in charge, Shea.”
Standing as if an invisible current dashed against him, Shea didn’t speak or move for a time. Then, with a heavy shake of the head, he said slowly, “Hard to believe! After all this time, he’s gone just like that. I sure wish he’d have come back himself to talk it over.”
Talitha’s feelings echoed Shea’s words. Santiago had promised to come back. It was hard to believe that he’d just stop someplace and forget all about them.
“My dear Shea,” chuckled Frost. “It wasn’t with talking the lady got her way! And Santiago did want to break the news to you but she pleaded so tearfully it would have melted anyone’s heart, let alone a prospective bridegroom’s.”
“There’ll be a priest to marry them,” Shea said under his breath. He seemed to contract his loosened body, drew himself up straight. “Well, after he’s been wed awhile, perhaps he can journey this way now and then. And you must tell me how to find him.”
Frost gave directions from Hermosillo, in such detail that Talitha was reluctantly almost convinced. Then, since it was growing late in the day, Shea called a halt to the branding and they all rode for the ranch.
At the sight of Tjúni, Frost shot his host a quick glance, then smiled at Talitha. “So this is why you’re out playing vaquero! You’ve got someone else to make the tortillas and watch the baby.”
Talitha flushed. She had washed her hands and gone straight to pick up Caterina who had stopped nursing at Anita’s breast when Talitha appeared. Gurgling with delight, Caterina seized fistfuls of Talitha’s hair.
Shifting her to a shoulder and patting to bring up any air bubbles, Talitha stared at this man whom she feared as she had never feared Apaches. He threatened not only her body but the very core of her being, what her mother and Socorro would have called a soul.
Talitha wanted to shout that she didn’t fully believe him about Santiago, but that could bring on trouble for Shea who now saved her from answering Frost’s belittling remark.
“Tally doesn’t play at vaquero. For weight and size, she’s as good as they come.”
“Really?” murmured Frost. His polite tone, at least to Talitha, held an edge of amused derision. “I suppose I’m judging her by eastern girls. At her age, they’ve scarce put away their dolls.”
“I still have my doll!” Talitha flashed at him.
“Indeed?” he murmured. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Why?”
He said blandly, “It’s refreshing to hear that such an independent young lady clings to her toys.”
The wonderful doll brought up by conducta, named for Talitha’s mother and once besought to keep Juh from claiming James, was little more of a toy than the madonna in the sala but Talitha wouldn’t have told Frost so. She felt instinctively that the more mistaken he was about her the better.
Caterina burped milkily on her shoulder. With a final hug, Talitha gave her to Anita who was fending off nine-month Paulita, promising to feed her as soon as they went to their own house to cook for Chuey. As Talitha helped Tjúni finish preparing supper, Frost leaned back in one of the rawhide chairs and described the two harbors he and Santiago had located on the Sonoran coast.
“The northern one would be less than two hundred miles from Tucson and the southern slightly more.” He placed his chin on slim, pyramided fingers. “I’d reckon on getting goods from San Francisco in about forty days compared to four months coming through Yuma, and the cost should be about six cents a pound as compared to fifteen to eighteen.”
“Sounds good if the Mexican and Sonoran governments will open the port.” Shea was interested in spite of his shock over Santiago.
“I’ve talked to the governor and think he will. He’s even hinted at letting goods pass duty free through Mexico into the United States since a thriving new port would help the Sonoran economy.”
Shea whistled. “Maybe I should have bought into your freighting business!”
“There’s still time,” Frost grinned expansively. “Anyway, nothing’s going to happen till the Gadsden treaty’s been settled. By the way, Congress is quibbling over it; that may be a while.”
At Shea’s urging, he stayed the night, sleeping in the vaqueros’ quarters while Tjúni grudgingly spread her pallet in the kitchen as she had before she went away that fall the twins were born. Passing through the sala as Talitha readied Caterina for the night, Shea paused and gazed down at his daughter.
Her tiny fingers reached for him. With a kind of sigh, he offered a brown finger, laughed in surprise as she closed her chubby honey-colored fist around it, holding so tight that he could raise her.
“God’s whiskers! She hangs on!”
“Yes.” Talitha could scarcely speak. This was the first time he’d laughed at his baby, looked at her with anything but pain and guilty resentment. Talitha’s heart swelled. Oh, let him love her! she pleaded silently to mother, madonna and Socorro; God, if He listened. Please, let him love her.
At least, after all these months, he was looking. If he looked, he had to love. Caterina was such a beautiful, funny baby with eyebrows that puckered fiercely when her wants weren’t promptly attended to. She spent hours each day now rocking on her knees and could already hitch herself along a little way before she collapsed.
“Well, my lass, come here then,” Shea told her as she squealed and refused to let him go. Awkwardly, he held her at arm’s length. “She doesn’t weigh much,” he said anxiously to Talitha. “Do you think she gets enough to eat?”
If she didn’t, this would be a fine time for you to notice it, thought Talitha but she was too overjoyed at his interest to chide him. “Of course she does! Anita still feeds her and I give her ground piñon nuts in honey and water, the way I fed James.”
He frowned, obviously not satisfied. “She feels too light to me.”
“She wouldn’t, if you’d been holding her since she was tiny.”
Talitha bit her lip, but he seemed not to notice the indirect reproof.
“Reckon I’d better start
getting milk out of one of those old range cows. The babies can get used to it gradually and when Anita’s milk gives out, they can change over entirely.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you.” Talitha frowned. “Socorro fed both twins till they were almost two and you never worried about them.”
“That was different! She saw to things then. Now it’s up to me. And this one is going to have what she needs!” He squinted at Talitha across the baby’s shoulder. “A glass of milk a day wouldn’t hurt the twins. Or you, either! You’re skinny as a post!”
“Milk?” Talitha echoed. Milk belonged to Nauvoo, before they’d had to cross the icy river in the night. It belonged to a long time ago. “Me, drink milk? Why, Belen would laugh his head off!”
“Never you mind that.” Shea uncurled his daughter’s hand from his hair and put her back in her basket. “Starting tomorrow, there’s going to be milk! And it’s time you had your own room, you and little Katie.”
“I don’t mind, Shea.” She couldn’t say how comforting it was to have him just a wall away, except for the occasional hours he spent with Tjúni.
“You’re almost a young lady! Time you had a proper bed and place instead of a pallet in what’ll be the living room if we ever get that civilized! As soon as we get back from selling the cows, we’ll get that room of yours started.”
She didn’t argue. It was good to have him wanting to do something more than the necessary things. In spite of her misgivings about Santiago, Talitha went to bed that night in a glow of happiness. Shea had held the baby, really looked at her, and for the first time had given her a name!
Katie. A wee Irish name, with none of the haughty stateliness of Caterina which Talitha had already begun shortening to Cat. It was going to be all right. Shea had started to love his child.
XXIV
Talitha had avoided being by herself where Judah Frost might find her but next morning after breakfast when he was preparing to leave, he asked her if she had the letter for her father.
The Valiant Women Page 34