Chiquita slid into the chair he held for her, careful to keep her scorched dress from gaping. She still trembled from the scare. Placing his hands on her shoulders, Eduardo ignored the way she flinched.
“Chiquita, you need food. I don’t know why you didn’t want to eat with me, but my parents always ate together. They enjoyed one another’s company. I hope someday we can be the same way.”
Seating himself, Eduardo bowed his head to pray. Chiquita already had her head bowed, but then she’d been that way most of the time he was around.
“Do you pray at mealtimes?”
She flicked a glance at him. She seemed puzzled, almost as if she didn’t know what he meant.
Eduardo couldn’t help sighing. “That’s all right. I’ll say the prayer, and you can listen.”
A few minutes later, he lifted the covering from the fragrant meal. Although dried a little from the long wait to be served, everything looked delicious. He served Chiquita first, careful not to give her too much. He didn’t think she would eat, but with a quick glance in his direction, she picked up her fork and began.
After their silent meal ended, Eduardo left Chiquita to clean up while he lit a lantern and went into one of the back rooms. Putting the light next to an old trunk, he ran his hand over the scarred surface before lifting the lid. A whoosh of musty lavender air greeted him, the scent reminding him so much of his mother, he almost looked around for her. Kneeling down, he began to remove the various items packed there. The things he wanted, he put in one pile; the rest, he packed back into the trunk. His mother wouldn’t have minded giving some of her things to her daughter-in-law. In fact, being able to do so would have delighted her.
Gathering the items he’d chosen, Eduardo picked up the lantern and headed back to the kitchen. Looking through his mother’s things had stirred memories, reminding him of the loneliness that had become his constant companion since his parents’ deaths. His heart ached. He wasn’t sure marrying Chiquita would ease the ache at all.
Chiquita dipped warm water from the reservoir at the side of the stove. The sight of scorched clothing made her wrinkle her nose. She could still feel the sting of the burns on her leg. She hadn’t wanted Eduardo to know about them. The memory of him hitting her, trying to put out the flames, jarred her. At first, she’d thought he had finally behaved like her father. She’d done something so wrong, he couldn’t help but beat her.
That hadn’t been true. Instead, he’d put out the fire before she was hurt badly, then apologized as if the whole thing were his fault. He didn’t blame her at all. He hadn’t been mad about her looking at the books either. A spark of excitement flared in her heart. Would he follow through with his suggestion? Would he teach her to read? Hope, even in the face of a lifetime of disappointments, wouldn’t die.
Supper had been so hard. She’d never been allowed to eat with the family. Only after they were finished and gone from the room could she sit down and eat of the few leftovers. Sometimes her father would deny her that, saying she had too much work to do to waste time on eating. She didn’t want to displease Eduardo, but the idea of eating at the same time he did was daunting.
He’d remained so silent. She’d wanted him to tell her if the vaquero who’d been hurt was all right. She wanted to know all about Eduardo and his family. Who was Pilar? What was she like? How Chiquita longed for her tongue to be loosened, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. She didn’t think she’d ever really talked.
Finished with the dishes and cleanup, Chiquita listened to the quiet of the house. Where had Eduardo gone? Moving close to the flickering light of the lantern, she pulled apart the scorched place in her skirt. Small blisters dotted the red area on her thigh. She shuddered. A few times over the years, Papa threatened to burn her. The thought always brought terror. If not for Eduardo’s quick reaction, she might have been burnt badly enough to die. How could she ever thank him? Did this mean she could trust him?
She thought back to the early afternoon, right before Eduardo had to leave. When he threw the piece of pottery against the wall, she’d been sure he was just like her father. The rage in his eyes looked the same. Looking back, she couldn’t help but think he might have resorted to violence if his foreman hadn’t come to fetch him.
Then, when he’d come home, he’d acted like a different person. He’d been kind, seeming to know what she’d suffered with her father. She was confused. What was Eduardo—tender and compassionate or violent and hate-filled?
“Chiquita?” Eduardo called from the other room. She quickly pulled the material of her dress over the burns on her leg.
Hurrying to the main room, Chiquita stumbled to a halt. Eduardo stood by the desk in one corner of the room. Beside him lay a pile of clothing. He smiled and pointed to the clothes.
“These were my mother’s. I know she would have wanted you to have them.” He lifted one of the dresses from the pile, letting the pale yellow material unfold. Chiquita gasped at the simple beauty. She’d never seen anything so pretty before. How could Eduardo expect her to wear something this nice when she worked all day?
“This one can be for the times when you go visiting or when we go to town.” He shrugged. “That won’t be often, but I remember my mother saying that every woman needed something beautiful, even if she didn’t get to wear it much.” He folded the dress and placed it on the desk.
“The darker ones will do for everyday work.” Plucking up a light gray gown, he held it up for her to see. “My mother was about the same height as you, but she wasn’t as slight. You’ll probably need to alter them some.” He hesitated. “Do you know how to do that?”
Chiquita nodded, amazed at his generosity. She’d never had more than one gown at a time, and Eduardo was offering at least five dresses at once. Her family would be amazed. Of course, her sisters and mother had more than she did, but none of them owned this many clothes.
Moving the pile of dresses, Eduardo stopped and looked uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “I… um, got some of my mother’s underthings for you.” He gestured at the remainder of the stack. Under the tan, his face took on a ruddy tint. “There are a couple of nightdresses, too.”
Clearing his throat again, he straightened and faced her. “In the morning, I’ll bring in enough water for you to take a bath while I’m gone.” He looked stern, but not angry. “I’ve explained to you that I’m different from Diego. I want you to stop hiding.” He strode across the room toward her holding something in his hand.
Chiquita’s insides quivered. She wanted to flee. She stiffened and waited.
Eduardo stopped in front of her. “Look at me, Chiquita.” He waited until she met his gaze. “This is for you to use tomorrow. I’m glad you’ve kept yourself clean, but I’ll expect you to have your hair brushed when I get home tomorrow afternoon.”
Chiquita glanced down at his hands. He held out a brush and mirror such as she’d never dreamed existed. Silver, inlaid with turquoise, gleamed in the light. Spots of tarnish stained the handle in places. Eduardo must have kept the set put away after his mother’s death. She couldn’t possibly use something so fine. What if she dropped the mirror and broke it? Would Eduardo be upset then? Would that be the time he would hit her? He’d been so angry this morning when she broke a simple figurine. What would he do over something this valuable?
She backed away, shaking her head, holding her hands palm outward to him. He understood. She could see the hurt in his eyes for a moment before anger took over. His jaw clenched. He spun around, took the set to the desk, and set them down with a clack that made her heart leap.
“I’m going to bed. You can stay in the bedroom down the hall. You don’t have to stay with me until we get to know each other better.” He stalked off to his room and slammed the door. She froze, wondering if the anger would grow until he sought her out to ease his rage.
CHAPTER 5
The sun shining in her eyes woke Chiquita the next morning. She stretched, enjoying the luxurious feeling of sleeping on
a mattress covered with sheets and enough blankets to keep her warm. At home, she always slept on a thin pallet on the floor of the room she shared with her sisters.
She jerked upright. The sun was shining. She was late. Eduardo would be expecting her to fix coffee and his breakfast. After throwing back the covers, Chiquita stumbled from the bed and searched for her clothes. She’d carried Eduardo’s mother’s things into the room and had worn the simplest nightdress. Picking up her own scorched clothing, she wrinkled her nose. The burn spot in the skirt gaped open. She couldn’t wear this again. She glanced at the pile of beautiful gowns. How could she ever wear one of those?
Discarding her dress, she ran her hand over the colorful pile of garments. Treating them with care, she chose the plainest brown one and put it on. The length would have been right, but the rest of the dress sagged. She could easily end up tripping over the hem if she wasn’t careful. No help for it; she would have to wear this for now. Later in the day, she could take the time to make the fit better.
Chiquita rushed to the kitchen, holding up the skirt to keep from falling. A pot of coffee stood on the back of the stove. A skillet and dirty dishes showed that Eduardo had already eaten and gone. She couldn’t feel his presence in the house. She closed her eyes and moaned. He would be furious by the time he came home tonight. How could she have slept late? She needed to make a good start of this marriage, or she would be doomed to a life of pain from him being angry with her.
Stretching up, she peered out the window at the barn and other outbuildings. They appeared deserted. He’d mentioned yesterday having to go take care of some business. He had planned to leave early, so she was too late to try to make up for oversleeping. She sighed and turned to the work at hand, ignoring the twinge of hunger in her stomach. There was too much to do to take time for eating. Perhaps if she spent the day working as hard as she could, he wouldn’t be so enraged with her tonight.
A plan began to develop in her mind. She would work hard all day, then fix a supper that would wait for Eduardo’s return. Then she would bathe, comb her hair, and don the yellow dress that belonged to his mother. Husbands must be different from fathers. Maybe if she made herself neat, as well as clean, he wouldn’t be so repulsed like Papa and would be merciful. She would never be beautiful, but perhaps she could be pleasing.
“Eduardo, my friend, come inside where we can talk out of the sun.” Antonio Soza strode from his hacienda to greet Eduardo. They were neighbors, although their ranches were several miles apart. Eduardo often consulted with Antonio on matters of business.
“Pepito, take Señor Eduardo’s horse for some water.” Antonio dispatched the young boy with a wave of his hand. “Come, my friend. Maria will bring us something refreshing.”
The dim interior of the adobe house felt cool after the warmth of the day. Eduardo removed his hat and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. A cool drink would be welcome.
“So, I’m surprised to see you.” Antonio tugged at his full beard as he led Eduardo into his living room. He motioned to a chair. Eduardo sat down, placing his hat beside him. Antonio grinned. “When I sent the message for you to come over today, I didn’t realize you were getting married yesterday. Congratulations, my friend. When am I to meet the lucky bride?”
They were interrupted by Maria, one of Antonio’s helpers in the house. She brought them glasses of lemonade. Eduardo took a long drink of the tangy liquid before he spoke. “I married one of Diego Garcia’s daughters.”
Antonio’s heavy eyebrows arched. “Why did you do that?”
“As you know, Diego had a debt to pay. Now he doesn’t, and I have a wife.”
“I don’t know. I can’t think of anything good to say about that man, so you watch yourself.” Antonio frowned. “A lot of us would like to know where he came up with the money for his ranch. He doesn’t work, he isn’t wealthy, yet he could afford land that the rest of us struggled to get. Something doesn’t smell right.”
“I know. My father used to say the same thing.”
“I’ve met Diego’s daughters. Which one did you marry? Teresa? She’s the oldest. I seem to remember the others would be too young.”
Eduardo explained how Diego tricked him into marrying his other daughter, the one who couldn’t speak.
“I’ve seen this girl before.” Antonio stroked his beard, his brow furrowed. “Diego came over here with his family a couple of times when the girls were younger. They called this girl Fealdad. Am I right?”
Eduardo nodded. “I refuse to call her by that name. She can’t tell me anything else to call her, so I chose Chiquita, because she’s so small.”
“That’s a good name.” Antonio nodded. “She was always a tiny thing and very pretty. I don’t know why they referred to her as ugly. Diego and Lupe, his wife, used to treat her differently than the others. I asked Diego about it once. He said she was rebellious, and that was the only way to control her. I never saw the rebellion myself. She seemed to be quiet and obedient any time they were here.” He smoothed his hair back. “The last time they came as a family, I saw Diego hit her for no reason. I confronted him and told him to stop. We had quite a fight. The poor girl looked terrified. I’m afraid Diego may have taken out his rage on her. The thought makes me sick.”
Antonio rubbed his hands down his face. “I’ve often thought that I should have done something. A father has a right to raise his children as he sees fit, but to beat them for nothing is beyond reason. I didn’t know what I could do though. I planned to keep an eye on the situation, but Diego never brought them back. She was such a young girl then, just a little waif.”
“From the way she acts, Diego didn’t stop abusing her. She’s a brave one. She stands her ground, but I can tell she’s afraid,” Eduardo said.
Antonio’s gaze seemed to bore into Eduardo. “Be gentle with her. I believe she’ll be a treasure if you do. She isn’t like the rest of that family. Even back then, there was something a little different about her.”
Taking another sip of his lemonade, Eduardo pushed thoughts of Chiquita away. He didn’t want to remember the way he’d behaved yesterday. He’d been so ashamed, he’d left home earlier than planned so he didn’t have to face her. If Diego had mistreated her for so many years, how would she ever manage to be around him with his temper? This morning, before he left, he’d gotten angry with Jorge for a minor mistake that shouldn’t have mattered. He sighed. That was another one he would have to apologize to when he returned home. He set the empty glass on the floor beside his feet.
“You asked me over for a reason, Antonio. I know it wasn’t to discuss my marriage.”
Antonio chuckled. “That’s true. I wanted to talk cattle.” He leaned forward, a sudden eagerness in his face. “I know you’ve sold some livestock to the cavalry. Right now, they’re the best market in Arizona for our beef. Have you heard the news?”
Eduardo shook his head. “What news?”
“The government is going to start buying cattle from more than one person. So far, James Patterson has had a monopoly on the trade with them. He buys most of the cattle from Henry Hooker.” He waved a hand as Eduardo started to protest. “Yes, I know, he’s bought a few head of my beef, too, but not enough. Now though, we have a better chance.”
“My friend at the fort, Conlon Sullivan, told me it might be a good idea to begin building up my herd. This must be the reason I haven’t seen him for a while, or I’m sure he would have given me the news.”
“I have something I want you to read and consider.” Antonio crossed to a desk and brought Eduardo an eastern newspaper. “This article is about a breed of cattle developed in England. They’re not as rangy as ours are. They put on weight easily. According to this article, we could vastly improve our herds by bringing in a few of these bulls.”
Eduardo glanced through the article and frowned. “I don’t know. Our criollos are tough. They’re bred for the desert. They forage and can live among the cactus.”
“But Eduardo, t
he criollos are little more than horns and hide. The cavalry wants some meat to feed their troops.” Antonio laughed. “I think Herefords are the cows of the future.”
Eduardo grinned. “If we bring in some of these fancy bulls, they’ll be just like the fancy eastern men that come out here. They won’t know how to adjust.”
“You could be right, but I’d still like to try it. I think if we can improve our cattle, we’ll have a chance to do better in the market. We might even consider shipping some to California. There’s always a need for beef there.” Antonio glanced at the door. “Ah, here’s Maria to tell me lunch is ready. Join us, and then I can show you the changes I’ve made since you were here last.”
After lunch, Antonio gave Eduardo a tour of the small chapel he’d built behind his house. He told of plans to build a schoolhouse someday so that the ranchers in the area would be able to get their children an education. As Eduardo was mounting to leave, Antonio reminded him once again to read the paper about the Hereford bulls.
“I hadn’t thought about improving the cattle, but I have thought about the horses. The cavalry doesn’t like our smaller mounts. They have so much gear to carry, they want a taller, sturdier horse. When you have the time to visit, I’ll show you my new stallion. He’s the first in a new line.” Eduardo couldn’t keep the pride from his voice. He touched the brim of his hat and cantered from the yard. The sun hung low in the west. He would have to hurry to be home by mealtime. The road home was a long one.
The warm water felt marvelous to Chiquita’s aching muscles. She’d done more than a day’s work today. She hadn’t seen or heard from Eduardo all day. Instead, she’d washed clothes and cleaned the house, which most likely hadn’t been cleaned in ages. Out behind the house she’d found a clothesline, so she’d taken the time to beat the rugs before doing the laundry. The whole house smelled fresher.
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