He soon had generous amounts of elderberry bark, its tea good to cause vomiting or cure constipation; joint fir for fever and kidney pain; walnut hulls for cleaning maggots out of wounds; green oak bark to make a cure for diarrhea; root of ocotillo for painful swellings; cholla root for a laxative; agave pulp for wounds. John, as he asked them to call him, was a keen observer and jotted down notes on wildlife, birds, plants and terrain. He didn’t come every Sunday but as spring approached, Talitha began to feel disappointed when noon came without him.
One morning he came so early that he must have left camp before sunup. “Why don’t we ride to Tubac and enjoy Colonel Poston’s entertainment?” he suggested as soon as he had admired Caterina’s new kitten and extracted a splinter from Patrick’s hand that no one else had been allowed to touch. “The superintendents from other mines come for dinner and neighbors are always welcome.”
Shea laughed. “My head can take Colonel Poston’s hospitality only once a year! But, Tally, you could go with the doctor.”
“Oh, I couldn’t!” she exclaimed, blushed at her rudeness, and tried to cover it by saying that she was in the middle of making panocha.
The sprouted wheat meal and brown sugar pudding, after mixing, had to set an hour before it baked very slowly for several hours, and did indeed take time and care, but she hadn’t even thought of the waiting batter when she first refused.
A glint in John’s eyes told her he guessed this but he smiled charmingly. “I’d rather have your panocha any day, Miss Talitha, than the colonel’s venison, even though he’s now getting champagne and Scotch to go with it.”
Settling by the fire with Shea who was mending a bridle, Irwin gave them the latest news. Just as the Santa Cruz Valley in Arizona was being repopulated, in northern Sonora ranches that had been abandoned for twenty and thirty years were coming back to life. For good prices, Sonorans supplied staples like wheat and sugar to the miners, soldiers and settlers of southern Arizona, and also profited in the trade of luxury goods brought in through Guaymas.
“But the honeymoon’s over,” regretted Irwin. “A certain Henry Crabb started recruiting colonists in San Francisco for the Gadsden Purchase this January, only when he got to Yuma, he let them know he planned to join Pesqueira in putting down Gándara’s forces, and colonize in Sonora. Probably, back before Pesqueira got fairly well established, he had made some kind of deal with Crabb—Crabb’s brother-in-law is an influential Sonoran named Ainsa. But Pesqueira doesn’t need Crabb now and he’s whipping up the populace against this latest filibuster.”
“Surely when Crabb gets word of that, he’ll drop the idea,” scoffed Shea.
The doctor shook his head. “He left Yuma heading for Caborca early in March, a few weeks ago. He’s sent two men to see if there aren’t some fight-hungry adventurers in Tucson, Tubac and Calabazas who’ll join him.”
Shea gave a long, low whistle. “Poston would never fall for such a shenanigan?”
“Not he. He told them he depended on Sonora for supplies and labor and tried to make them see the expedition was bound to fail and could only destroy the present good feeling along the border. But some of his miners went. I would reckon about thirty-three men, most from around Calabazas, have taken off toward Caborca.”
“Then God help them. Pesqueira won’t. The fools! Don’t they know how Mexicans feel about Americans, first the war taking the spread from New Mexico to California and the Gadsden Purchase whacking off Sonora’s northern half? Greedy damn Yanquis!”
“Just like England?” Irwin grinned.
“More than a little, man!” Shea tossed the bridle to the floor, getting up. “Here’s the North saying the South can’t go its own way. Here they are, dilly-dallying about making Arizona a territory when Santa Fe ignores even Mesilla, which is where our nearest court is!” He let out an exasperated breath, shrugged aside governmental iniquities. “I know you’re not a horse doctor, John, but would you have a look at a canker in my old Azul horse’s ear?”
“The men say I should stick to horses,” Irwin laughed, and, with Caterina and the twins, followed his host outside.
“The panocha was very good,” Irwin said that evening. He and Talitha were briefly alone in the storeroom where she was getting him dried elderflowers to treat colds and stomachaches. “But I think there was another reason why you didn’t want to go to Tubac.”
She said nothing. “Well, Miss Talitha? Will you go with me next Sunday if I can escape emergencies? People seem to wait till Sunday to come to me with ails they’ve had all week.”
How could she explain that she didn’t want to lose him as she’d lost Marc? Slowly, miserably, she said, “That would look as if we were—keeping company, John.”
His eyebrows climbed. “My dear, why shouldn’t we?”
She swallowed, involuntarily stepping back. “I—I thought you came here to see all of us!”
“So I do. I like the O’Sheas tremendously, and love wee Cat.” In the dim room, his eyes seemed to catch and hold the light there was. Silence mounted between them, a growing tension. “You told me you weren’t engaged.”
“I’m not.” What could she tell him, that he’d accept? “But I—I do love someone.”
The red head, painfully like Shea’s, went back sharply. “I can’t believe any man you cared for wouldn’t have carried you off by now, even if Shea didn’t approve,” Irwin said at last. “Nor can I believe there’s a man who, given the chance, could fail to love you.”
“This one doesn’t.” Talitha couldn’t keep the bitterness from her tone.
Irwin sighed. “But you hope he’ll change?”
“Even if he doesn’t, I won’t.”
A smile crept into his tone. “Let’s see now, next month you’ll be all of seventeen, isn’t it?”
She didn’t answer that. After a moment, he took her hands, raised them to his face. “Very well, my stubborn lass! But now all’s clear between us and you won’t be leading me on—” His voice twinkled. “Why not ride out with me sometimes?”
“You still want to?”
“Of course! The señoritas are pretty little things and dozens have poured in from the despoiled parts of Sonora where they’ve lost their men from Apaches or civil war, but their interests run to romance and monte. I’d much rather talk with you. At least sometimes.”
“Well,” she said doubtfully. “If you’re sure—”
He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I’m sure. I can be a good friend to you, Talitha, though I’d hoped to be more.” He chuckled irrepressibly. “And there’s the chance you may realize in time what a rare catch I’d be!”
They were both laughing when they went inside. Irwin told Shea he’d like to call for Talitha next Sunday. After a startled glance at her, Shea said heartily that would be fine. Talitha’s heart made an odd little somersault.
Maybe, if she kept company with the doctor, Shea would be jolted into seeing her as a woman, admitting she was grown up. That might make a difference. Anyway, John Irwin was handsome, brilliant and fun, and now that he understood matters, she was going to enjoy his companionship. Once he was transferred from this remote wilderness post, he’d forget all about her, but they could, for now, ease each other’s loneliness.
XXVIII
It was in April that John Irwin brought news of what had happened to Crabb’s expedition. On April 11th, with sixty-nine of his men, Crabb had fought his way into Caborca. In some low adobes across the street from the church, the Americans held out for six days against ten to one odds. Crabb persuaded them that surrender might bring them safe passage across the border.
Instead, after giving up their weapons, they were shot at the next sunrise. Crabb’s head was severed and preserved in mescal. The bodies were left for hogs, and a few days later Crabb’s rearguard of sixteen was overwhelmed, marched into Caborca and shot.
Four sick members of the expedition had been left at a trading post on the American side. Mexican troops crossed the border and shot
the remaining would-be filibusterers.
“Now Major Steen’s supposed to find out for sure which side of the border that trading post is on,” the doctor said. “The Mexican commander insists he didn’t come on American soil. What’s more, he’s written to the major, putting it to him that he should punish the filibusterers who were recruited from around here but didn’t go very far into Mexico.”
“Should sort of check people’s enthusiasm for stealing territory,” Shea remarked dryly.
“It’s stirred up a lot of old hatreds. Pesqueira’s closed the border again and all our supplies have to come from Yuma or the east.”
The interests of Sonora and Arizona were so interlaced that by the time Camp Moore was completely abandoned in June for Fort Buchanan, Captain Ewell’s marshbound slope, trade with Mexico was in full swing again and the region prospered as never before with soldiers to check the Apaches and the mines paying good wages.
Tubac thrived in particular, with Poston holding open house with a lavish hand. Visitors were welcome as long as they wished to stay and when they journeyed on, their mounts were shod gratis and they were given free provisions.
As a territorial official, Poston felt empowered to perform marriages, which he did, and threw in a wedding feast to boot. Because priestly visits had been rare for years, and because it cost $25.00 to be married in Sonora, many couples were married by the commandant of the Sonora Exploring and Mining Company and he was godfather to numerous children.
To solve the problem of scarce currency, the company paid workers with boletas, printed slips of pasteboard with the picture of an animal. A pig was 12½¢; a calf, 25¢; 50¢ for a rooster; a dollar for a horse, five dollars for a bull, and ten for a lion. When a merchant collected enough of these, the company redeemed them with bullion.
Well-armed Tubac itself wasn’t molested by Indians, but the dragoons weren’t a month gone from Camp Moore when Apaches raided Calabazas and stole thirty-one mules and a dozen horses.
Under pressure to control the Indians, the high command of the Department of New Mexico mounted a campaign that summer to crush and disperse the Mogollon, Coyotero and Gila Apaches.
Weeks of combing the Gila region and scouting the rugged Chiracahuas accomplished nothing beyond the taking of a few prisoners and burning some cornfields.
It was June 27th before any real battle was fought. Twenty Apache warriors were killed, at least one shot after being made a prisoner at order of Colonel Bonneville, the commander of the joined forces. Twenty-six women and children were captured.
“Bonneville’s being cheered as the ‘Hero of the Gila Expedition,’” growled John Irwin in disgust. “Didn’t succeed in doing anything but making the Apaches madder!”
But it showed that the Army was serious about checking the Apaches. Talitha feared greatly for James. “John,” she said, “will you tell Major Steen, Captain Ewell, pass the word to all the men, that if they find among the Mimbreños a blue-eyed boy of about ten, he’s my brother?”
Irwin’s eyes widened. “Your brother?”
It hurt so much to think of James that she never spoke of him except when, occasionally, the twins would still wonder if he wasn’t coming back and she could only say she hoped so. She prayed for him every night, though, to whatever Powers might listen, and implored her mother and Socorro to help him if they could.
Now she told the young doctor about James, that he was the son of Juh, and why he’d gone away with Mangus.
“Poor little lad,” Irwin muttered. “Near four years, and no word of him?”
She shook her head. Her throat ached too much for speaking.
“I’ll pass the word,” he assured her. “And Steen can notify the other posts.”
She thanked him and added, “I think Mangus would get word to me if James were dead. Even if he didn’t, I think I’d know, I’d feel it.” Her grief welled over. “Oh, John, I was so angry when his cat bit Shea! Socorro forgave him but I didn’t! I was supposed to take care of him! Instead I drove him away!”
Irwin held her tenderly and let her cry. Producing a big handkerchief, when the storm was spent, he made her blow her nose. “Sniffing produces catarrh,” he admonished. “And now, young lady, put this nonsense of failing your brother out of your head for good and all! You saved his life to start with, you got him away from the Apaches, and you were yourself a child when this hydrophobia business happened.”
Talitha shook her head, refusing to be excused.
Unbelievably, he laughed. At her stare, he said, “Haven’t you ever thought that your brother’s probably having a dandy time?”
“What?”
“Why, sure! He’s hunting, learning weapons, skylarking with friends, wandering the mountains! Lord, he’s doing everything boys enjoy when they can get out of work! Don’t feel too sorry for him, Talitha.”
Now why hadn’t she thought of it like that? Remembering her time with the Apaches, Talitha had to admit that the boys had seemed to always be having fun; in fact, the children were treated well and never punished after the manner of whites. A weak, deformed baby might be exposed, or a twin, if it couldn’t be cared for, but children who lived were indulged and loved. Talitha had allied herself closely with her mother and then been so fiercely engaged in keeping James alive that her own existence had not been normal.
Beguiled at this thought, Talitha brightened, only to sink again into worry. “That may be true, but if the Army’s going after the Apaches, really trying to conquer them, it won’t be much fun to be one!”
“No,” agreed Irwin. “It won’t.”
Talitha and Caterina were picking currants along the creek in September when Talitha saw a pale gray horse coming. Judah Frost? Not wishing him to catch her alone, Talitha picked up the basket. “Let’s go to the house, Cat. I think we have company.”
“Dr. John?” cried the child eagerly. She still had a pointed chin and the dark peak of her hair increased the heart-shape of her face. She raced ahead, tanned legs flashing in the tall grass. “No!” she cried in mingled disappointment and fascination. “It’s the silver man!”
That was her name for Frost. Though the twins continued to admire him, Cat refused to sit on his lap and watched him from the safety of Shea’s proximity, or Talitha’s, peering at him with the curiosity of one of the kittens she usually cuddled.
Shea had been working young horses in the corral. Leaving it to the vaqueros, he came, twins at his heels, to greet Frost. All of them came inside after the horse was cared for. Talitha let Caterina pass around the currants while she made coffee and started supper.
“This is for you, Talitha.” Frost put a letter on the table. “Courtesy of the Jackass Mail, or if you prefer formality, the San Antonio and San Diego Mail Line! Started with pack mules this summer, but now they use coaches except for a hundred miles of sand west of Fort Yuma where the coaches have to be unloaded. Mules pack passengers and mail over that stretch, but from there on, it’s coach all the way!”
“From your father?” Shea asked Talitha.
She nodded, glancing up. “He says he’s selling his mining interests and taking up land north of the Gadsden Purchase. He’s heard of a rich valley watered by the Verde River beneath the Mogollons.”
“But that’s really Indian country!” Shea protested.
“He knows that. But just as the Mormons in Utah generally have stayed friends with the Indians, he thinks he can live among them here.”
“They don’t have Apaches in Utah,” Frost drawled. “Best send a letter back by me, Talitha, and try to dissuade him.”
“And ask him to come and visit us,” Shea urged. “He’s welcome to stay here if he wants, or take up land close by.”
“He seems set on this Verde River country,” Talitha said. “But I’ll write him. He does say he’ll stop by here.”
The thought panicked more than pleased her. Remembering Jared Scott made her uncomfortable. She knew she should love her father but she didn’t know him, and even thou
gh she was old enough now to understand why, as a soldier, he’d had to leave his family, she would always in the deepest part of her, not reachable by fact, feel he’d abandoned them. At least he didn’t talk about her living with him, apparently realizing it was too late for that. Talitha wished he’d just forget her.
Through supper, Frost gave news. The people at Tucson were angry that Fort Buchanan wasn’t located nearer to them. A Collector of Revenue had moved into the big house at Calabazas and ran a little store as well as levying the twenty percent duty on goods from Mexico. Poston was elated at the arrival of more heavy mining equipment from the Missouri Valley, fetched in by twelve six-mule wagons by Santiago Hubbell. At a charge of $233 per ton, the wagons were freighting back very rich silver ore to Kansas City for assay. Poston wanted to spread Arizona’s fame as a mining area.
“And we’ve sent another delegate to Washington to push for territorial status,” Frost said. “Sylvester Mowry. He’s soldiered around Yuma, believes in the region’s future, and just resigned his lieutenancy, though he’s a West Pointer, to be able to work for what we need.”
“Will Congress seat him?” frowned Shea.
Frost shrugged airily. “Even if it doesn’t, he’s got powerful friends. He’s from a wealthy Rhode Island family and has the backing of financiers from that state and a lot of Southern congressmen. Seated or not, he can get bills introduced, maybe even passed.”
“Still trying for that railroad, Judah?” grinned Shea.
“We’ll get it!” Frost reached inside his coat and produced some papers. “By the way, friend and partner, here are figures on your investments in the freighting and mining companies. Do you want a draft for your share of the profits or shall I get you some of Colonel Poston’s bullion?”
“Why don’t you just reinvest it?” Shea said carelessly.
“Fine. Revier’s located a good prospect south of Yuma not too far from the Camino del Diablo, and the sooner we can start there, the better. Guess I’ll go see him before I leave for Washington.”
The Valiant Women Page 41