by Penny Hayes
"I wish you well, Margarita. Will you raise those horses you talked about?"
"I suppose. And are you painting?"
"Not much."
Throwing a shawl over her shoulders, Julia followed Margarita to the waiting horses. Margarita stood looking up at the taller Julia. When she rode away this time, she would never return. She would be unable to. "Goodbye, Julia." Gracefully she swung into the saddle.
"Goodbye, Margarita."
She glanced at Julia just one more time. The blue in her eyes was more than Margarita could endure. She clucked to her horse and turned her face away.
"Margarita," Julia called after her.
Margarita ignored her, keeping the horse at a steady walk, pulling the packhorses with her. From long ago, the echo of Sam's words came back to her: "You got too much honor, Margarita. It's gonna cost you someday." She would only get into terrible trouble if she turned, and she would not act honorably at all. She would grab Julia to her this time. And that would be a disgraceful act.
Julia called again as Margarita rode further and further away.
"I will never marry, Margarita. Never!"
Never marry? Julia wasn't married? But the sign on the fence.... She had even said she was.
Margarita reined up and brought her mount around, stunned and blinking, thinking that if she had heard wrong, she would not be able to live.
She dropped the packhorses' rope and rode back to Julia's side. "But the clothes, the men's clothes, the baby's crib. You said you were."
"You assumed I was. Meredith's not my name, Margarita. It belongs to the people who rent this place." Julia began to cry, and then to sob. "Herb Elkins' family... over on the river, they lost everything they own in a fire last night. I'm here only long enough to collect clothing and the crib for their baby. I don't live here, Margarita. I will never marry, I tell you." Her fists were clenched tightly at her side, and her voice cracked as she spoke. "Oh, damn it, Margarita, I have no pride. None!"
"Julia." Margarita was out of the saddle in an instant. She grabbed Julia by both arms. "But you never made a move toward me at the door, a gesture, a hug. You did not deny you were married."
"I didn't dare. You looked so strong, so aloof— as if you still didn't need me. You and your damnable unbendable strength."
"But I do need you. I've always needed you. But…"
But why explain the stupidity and blindness of one's soul to the seeing?
Julia slipped her arms around the smaller woman and held her as closely as Margarita held her. Their tears mingled as they cried and kissed silently.
"Dear Margarita," Julia said. "Dear, dear little Yellowthroat. My life was over without you."
Margarita sobbed through gushing tears she tried to brush aside. At last able to speak, she said, "I will tell you now, Julia Blake, that I love you. I have for a long, long time. How terribly blind I was — have always been. I will never leave you. I swear to you."
Julia smiled but did not reply with similar words.
Margarita did not need to hear Julia make the same vow. It had always existed for Julia. Only Margarita had been the thick-witted one.
She tucked her head comfortingly beneath Julia's chin, just as she used to. They stood together in the long afternoon rays of a warm yellow sun, arms strongly encircling one another.