A Bride's Agreement

by Elaine Bonner

  Eduardo looked confused. He glanced at her father, then back at her. What might have been surprise or disgust flashed across his face. His eyes narrowed. Anger darkened his gaze. She closed her eyes. Eduardo wouldn’t be any different from her father. Had she gone from one horror to another?

  “What kind of trick are you trying now, Diego? This isn’t Teresa. Where is my wife?”

  CHAPTER 2

  This is your wife.” Diego thrust her forward. “You married my daughter, Fealdad—Señorita Garcia.”

  Eduardo’s hand flashed across Fealdad’s vision. She ducked. Eduardo grabbed Diego’s shirt in his fist and dragged him forward. “What are you trying to pull here? You know we agreed that I would marry Teresa. You never mentioned any of your other daughters.”

  Her father tugged at his shirt with one hand, trying to free himself. Eduardo twisted his fist, knotting the material tighter against Papa’s throat.

  “Señor Villegas.” Papa’s face began to darken; his voice sounded raspy and strained. “I never promised you Teresa, only one of my daughters. I have kept my word on this.”

  Eduardo glanced over his shoulder, as if wishing his friends were still there. The muscles in his jaw bunched. Fealdad could almost see his teeth grinding, chewing on the rage over this deception. He pulled her father closer, until they stood nose to nose.

  “You will get off my land. Don’t you ever come here again. Is that clear?”

  Papa nodded, gasping for air. The wedding dress dropped in the dirt. His fingers began to claw at Eduardo’s hand. Eduardo released him with a shove, sending him sprawling onto the ground beside the garments. Her father scrabbled to get away, his chest heaving.

  “Diego.”

  Fealdad watched as her father froze. She’d never seen him afraid of anyone before.

  “Sí Señor Villegas?”

  “Don’t forget these.” Eduardo nudged the now-filthy gown with the toe of his boot. “I don’t want any reminders of you left on my land.”

  Her father scrambled to gather the clothes. Finished, his gaze flicked to Fealdad.

  “She stays.” Eduardo’s growl sent a shiver of fear through Fealdad. “Before you go, I want to know what kind of name Fealdad is. Why would you call your daughter ugliness?”

  Standing, Papa backed away toward his wagon. “Look at her. We only named her for what we saw. She will work hard for you though, Señor.” He hesitated. “At least you will have peace and quiet with her. Fealdad can’t talk, or at least, she hasn’t spoken since she was very young.”

  With that announcement, her father whirled and raced the short distance to the wagon. After flinging the precious wedding clothes in the bed, he climbed up to the seat. Fealdad didn’t know what to do. If she ran after him, would her father take her back home? Would that be better than staying with a husband who had been cuckolded into marriage with a girl he didn’t want? How could she stay with Eduardo when he expected someone pretty and talkative like Teresa?

  “Come along.” Eduardo gripped her elbow none too gently, steering her toward the buggy waiting in the shade. “We may as well get on home.”

  Straightening her shoulders, Fealdad went with her new husband, hoping he couldn’t see how terrified she was. Anger still raged in his eyes. At this point, only her compliance would keep her from a beating. She knew that from years of experience.

  “Why didn’t you bring any clothes?” Eduardo’s hold eased as he stopped by the buggy. She stared at the ground, knowing he waited for an answer, yet unsure how to communicate with him. She shrugged, then cringed inwardly, waiting for the slap that would follow.

  “Is Diego right?” He lifted her chin until her tangled hair fell back, and their gazes met. “Can you talk?”

  She shook her head. Fear clenched at her heart.

  “Are we supposed to go get your things?”

  She shook her head again.

  His eyes narrowed. “You mean you have nothing to bring? No clothes except what you’re wearing?” He raised a hand.

  Her eyes widened. Panic swept through her. Although she tried not to, she flinched away from him. His grasp on her arm tightened.

  “Get in.” He released her long enough to grab her waist and lift her onto the seat.

  Before she could react, he untied the horse and sat down beside her. She edged as far away from him as she could, hoping he wouldn’t notice. His fingers were white on the reins. Did he want to throttle her, or her father? A chill rippled down her spine. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for Eduardo. He’d married her in good faith, thinking he was getting Teresa. Now, here he was stuck with an ugly bride who had no clothes and couldn’t even talk. He must hate her. She closed her eyes. This wasn’t how she pictured beginning a marriage.

  The ride to Eduardo’s house seemed long. The sprawling adobe house nestled among some large mesquite and cottonwood trees. Off to one side stood a barn, complete with a blacksmith forge at one end. Some corrals and a fenced pasture surrounded the buildings. A smaller house and a long, narrow building—possibly a bunkhouse—were farther away.

  Eduardo pulled back on the reins, stopping the horse. He turned to Fealdad. “I can’t call you Fealdad. I don’t care what your parents named you. I can’t do it. Do you have another name?”

  All her life she’d only been Fealdad. She shook her head.

  “Then I’ll call you Chiquita, for now. As tiny as you are, that will be fitting.” He climbed down and reached up for her. She tensed. Some of the anger seemed to have gone from him, but she knew how fast a man could be filled with rage.

  “Go on in the house. I’ll put the horse away. I’ve got business with my foreman.” Eduardo started to turn away, then halted. He looked at her. She could see the tightness in his jaw again. “I’ll not hold this against you. I knew how Diego was before I agreed to this marriage.” His clipped words buffeted her and felt as painful as a physical blow. He swatted the horse on the rump. The animal snorted.

  Fealdad watched him swing into the buggy and drive toward the barn. Chiquita. She rolled the name around in her head. All her life, she’d been called ugly and stupid. Eduardo called her “tiny.” He was right. He wasn’t tall, but she only reached his shoulder. A seed of hope sprouted as she questioned if maybe she had misjudged him. Maybe he wouldn’t be an angry drunk like her father. Maybe he wouldn’t hate her.

  The sorrel mare tried to dance away from Eduardo as he undid the harness. He knew she could sense his distress. He wanted to throw something or hit someone. He hadn’t been this angry in a long time. How had he let Diego dupe him like this? Sure, he hadn’t known Teresa well, but the day he met her, she had been laughing, talking, and staring at him with her big, dark eyes. That look reminded him of the flirtatious way his mother used to glance at his father. That was the main reason he’d agreed to the marriage and released Diego from his debt. He wanted to have what his parents had.

  Tying the horse to a ring in the wall of the barn, Eduardo began to brush her down. The familiar motion soothed the mare and, after a while, him. He put his face against the reddish-brown neck and breathed deeply. The familiar animal scent calmed him further. Pushing away, he sighed, finished the brushing, and put the mare out in the pasture. She cantered away, nickering at the other horses standing in the shade of some mesquite trees.

  He strode back into the barn and put the tack away. Sudden weariness washed over him, dulling the anger. This was his wedding day. He’d waited a long time for this day, and now it seemed like everything had gone wrong.

  A low whicker of greeting came from a stall at the far end of the barn. El Rey. His new stallion, named “King” because he would be the start of a new line. He heralded the beginning of a longtime dream of Eduardo’s.

  “Hey boy.” Eduardo rested one hand atop El Rey’s withers as he stroked the baby-soft nose. El Rey sniffed his hand and whooshed a warm breath as if disappointed. Eduardo chuckled. “Spoiled, aren’t you? I don’t have a treat this time.”

  El Rey didn�
��t seem to mind as Eduardo began to rub his ears. The horse leaned into Eduardo. Since the death of his father, Eduardo had only the animals to talk to. He’d never had other family. Although his foreman, Rico Gonzalez, had been around since Eduardo’s father started the ranch, Eduardo hadn’t been close to Rico. They could talk about business matters, but that was the extent of their relationship.

  “I got married today, El Rey.” Eduardo knew the quiet drone of his voice wouldn’t be heard from any distance. “I now have a wife I didn’t ask for, and I don’t know what to do. She can’t talk to me. I don’t know how we’ll ever communicate, but I gave my word. I can’t go back on that.” He ran his fingers through the horse’s walnut-colored mane, working out a tangle.

  “I’m not even sure what she looks like. She’s so ragged, like one of your mares who’s been run through the brush for days.” Guilt stabbed him. Here he was comparing his bride to an animal, talking to a horse as if he expected advice on marriage from the beast.

  The picture of Feal… Chiquita in her clean, but very worn, clothes rose in front of him like a specter. The dress hung on her thin frame. Her hair, washed but uncombed, fell across her face in matted tangles as if she were trying to hide. Fealdad. That’s what her family had always called her. Is she so ugly? He didn’t really know. When he’d lifted her chin to make her look at him, all he’d really seen were her golden-brown eyes, rich and sweet, the color of late summer honey. The thought warmed him. For a moment, he wanted to stalk back to the house and demand one more look.

  Most of the time, she’d kept her scarf over her head. She was small. The top of her head barely came to his shoulders. Her hands, although work roughened, were fine boned and slender, with fingernails short and free of dirt. If she kept herself so clean, then why did she dress so ratty?

  The sudden image of her ducking when he reached to grab Diego came to him. When Diego started to touch her, she flinched from him, too. Eduardo had been around enough mistreated animals to know what caused a person to do that. Someone had hit Chiquita often enough to make her wary. Was it Diego? His wife? Anger coursed through Eduardo at the thought of a child being treated that way. Did they punish her for not talking? The cause didn’t matter. There were other ways of discipline than beating.

  El Rey nudged his hand, and Eduardo patted the horse’s neck. He had to admire Chiquita though. If she had been beaten and was afraid, she still had a lot of spunk. Although she flinched and had ducked from him once, most of the time, she held herself straight, with an air of determination that impressed him. She wasn’t one to run just because she was afraid. She had strength of character. He could see that in her reaction to Diego and her refusal to back down from him.

  “Eduardo?” Rico’s voice called from outside the barn.

  “In here.”

  The foreman came into the barn carrying a cloth-covered platter. Eduardo gave El Rey a final pat and headed down the aisle to meet Rico.

  “Pilar sent you some food.” Rico held out the dish. “She says your bride won’t have time to fix something, and she’s cooking, anyway.”

  “Tell her thanks.” Eduardo took the warm plate from Rico. Pilar, Rico’s wife, did most of the cooking for the vaqueros who worked for Eduardo. Until now, Eduardo usually ate the evening meal with them. He found it hard to work all day and still have time to cook. Pilar never seemed to mind his joining them.

  “I guess I’d better take this inside.” Once again, guilt stabbed at Eduardo. He’d meant to clean the house before bringing his wife home. Instead she’d been welcomed by a mess. He’d only fired the stove enough to boil some coffee this morning. He’d been too nervous to eat. Even the dishes from yesterday’s breakfast still waited. Last night, he’d been so tired, he hadn’t found the strength to do much of anything.

  “Have you heard from Lucio and Tomás?” The two ranch hands were out checking on some of the cows that were calving. Although most of his cattle were range-bred, Eduardo still liked to keep an eye on them. Between Apaches stealing them and wild animals preying on them, they bore close watching, especially during calving season.

  Rico shook his head. “They should be back today. If not, I’ll send Jorge to check on them.”

  The two parted. Eduardo turned toward the house. A tendril of smoke rose from the chimney. Chiquita must have started a fire. He quickened his pace, wanting to get to the house before she began to cook, since they already had a meal prepared. The smell of beef and chilies seeping through the cloth made his stomach rumble. The late spring sun warmed his back.

  Opening the door, Eduardo maneuvered into the house with the awkward platter of food. Pilar must have sent enough for them and everyone on the ranch. He almost smiled. Did she think he married a giant of a woman who could eat like a horse? She would be in for a surprise. He doubted if someone the size of Chiquita could eat much. She probably ate more like one of the chickens than the larger animals.

  Chiquita’s back was to him when he entered the kitchen. She was studying something held in her hands and didn’t act like she’d heard him. He eased the plate of food onto the table, noting with surprise the amount of work she’d done in the short time she’d been there. The floor was swept clean, water was warming for washing the dishes that were stacked by the washtub, and in passing through the main room, he could see that she’d straightened his mess there.

  “You’ve been hard at work.”

  Chiquita gasped and whirled around. The object in her hands crashed to the floor, splintering into pieces. Her hands flew to cover her mouth. She started to step back, then her back stiffened. She stood her ground, staring at him through a fall of matted hair.

  “No.” A wave of anger swept over Eduardo. She’d broken his grandmother’s statue of the Madonna and Child. His mother prized that over anything else in the house. As a boy, he was never allowed to touch the precious figure.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” He could see her slight cringing as he shouted the words. Even knowing she expected him to hit her didn’t dim his anger. He had very little of his family left, and she’d just ruined a part of that.

  Chiquita knelt and began to gather the larger pieces with trembling fingers. Eduardo strode over and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll clean this up.” He snarled the words. Deep inside, he hated what he was doing to her, but he couldn’t seem to stop. He could feel a shudder go through her. He loosened his grip on her arm. She stepped back. He bent down and picked up the largest piece of the sculpture, the child’s face. Rage coursed though him. He flung the piece against the wall. The tiny features exploded.

  Chiquita flinched. Her slender fingers clutched her skirt. She squared her shoulders again, as if knowing what would be coming next.

  CHAPTER 3

  Eduardo.” The kitchen door began to vibrate as someone pounded an urgent rhythm. “Eduardo, hurry. Come quick.”

  Dragging his gaze from the fear and resignation he could sense in his wife’s stance, Eduardo rose and jerked open the door. Anger raced like lightning through his veins. “What?”

  Rico bent over, gasping for breath. He pointed toward the bunkhouse on the other side of the barn. “It’s Tomás. You have to hurry. There’s been an accident. One of the cows gored Lucio. Tomás came to get the wagon to bring him home. Hurry.” Rico didn’t wait, but turned and sprinted back the way he’d come.

  Stepping outside, Eduardo hesitated, his hand on the latch. He glanced back at Chiquita. He could barely make out the gleam of her tawny eyes through the hanks of hair over her face. Her fingers still clenched her skirt, but her shoulders were squared and her head held high. Remorse fought a battle with rage. Eduardo shook his head.

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back. If you need anything, go to Pilar. You’ll find her down at the cabin by the bunkhouse.” Slamming the door, Eduardo raced after Rico. By the time he reached the barn, Jorge and Tomás had the wagon hitched and the horses saddled, including a fresh mount for Tomás. There would be no time to waste if they
were to save Lucio.

  “Where’d you leave him?” Eduardo shot the question at Tomás as they mounted.

  “Up there, near the base of the mountains.” Tomás pointed to the east.

  “Tomás and I will ride ahead. Rico, bring the wagon. Jorge, stay here and keep an eye on the ranch.”

  “Wait.” Pilar trotted from the house, a bulky package in her hands. She lifted the cloth-bound parcel up to Eduardo. “Bandages, medicine, some food. You may need them.”

  Eduardo secured the bundle behind him on the saddle and nodded his thanks to Pilar. Motioning with his head, he kneed his gelding and raced from the yard, Tomás at his side.

  The horses were breathing heavily by the time Eduardo pulled them down to a walk. As much as he wanted to get to Lucio, he knew they couldn’t risk overtiring their mounts. Tomás pulled up beside Eduardo.

  “What happened?”

  “You know the narrow gorge—the one that’s impossible to get to the bottom because it’s so steep?” Tomás waited until Eduardo nodded. “One of the cows had her calf on the edge of the gorge. The minute the little one would roll over, down he would go. Lucio had me distract the mama while he went to pull the calf to a safer place.”

  Tomás wiped the sweat from his face with his bandana. “That cow was a mean one with horns a mile wide. She ran at me like one of the bulls in a bullfight.” He frowned. “The look in her eye should have killed me.”

  Eduardo gripped the reins until they dug into his hands. He wanted to shout at Tomás to get on with the story, yet he knew the importance of letting the events unfold in the young man’s mind. Tomás pushed his sombrero back a little. His eyes mirrored the horror of the story he was telling.

  “Lucio raced in and jumped from his horse. He grabbed the calf to pick it up. The edge of the gorge gave away. His foot dropped down. He almost went over the side with the baby. I could see him scrabbling to get up. I tried to keep the mama’s attention, but the minute she heard her little one cry, she forgot about me. I’ve never seen a cow move so fast. Lucio didn’t have a chance.”