The afternoon sun cast long shadows. The squeal of a horse filled the air as some of the foals kicked and raced across the pasture. The wind, coming from the direction of the river, brought the earthy smell of moist ground. Eduardo breathed deeply, trying to rid himself of the last vestiges of anger. Quinn and Conlon waited at the barn. They watched him walk toward them.
“Do you always enter your house like it’s getting ready to burn to the ground?” Quinn tried to make the question light, but Eduardo could read the seriousness in his tone. His friends hadn’t understood his panic.
“It’s been quite a day. Come on in the barn, and we’ll sit down.” He looked over at Rico. “Are Jorge and Tomás back yet?”
Rico shook his head. “I’ll put up the horses.” He led their mounts away, giving Eduardo the opportunity to speak with Quinn and Conlon alone.
“I’ve had some problems here in the last few weeks.”
Quinn tensed. Conlon frowned and sat forward. “What kind of problems?”
Eduardo explained losing his new foal to the cougar, the discovery that someone had been watching them, and Chiquita being shot. “We went out today to see if we could find some evidence of who’s behind this.”
“Did you find anything?” Quinn asked.
“Nothing we can prove.” Eduardo smoothed his mustache and told them of his suspicions about Diego Garcia. “On the way home, we found evidence on that ridge. Someone who smokes has been there. Rico thinks they might be watching the house with a spyglass. The problem is, I can’t figure out why anyone would do this. Even though Diego is the only one who might be guilty, why would he be interested in us?”
“Maybe he regrets letting you marry his daughter.” Quinn frowned. “Although that wouldn’t explain his shooting her. Besides, I thought you were marrying Teresa. I’ve only seen her a couple of times, but your wife didn’t look like Teresa.”
“That’s true,” Conlon said. “I remember Teresa talking up a storm, and this girl didn’t say a word the whole time we were here. Pilar did all the talking.”
Eduardo sighed. “Diego tricked me into marrying his other daughter. I call her Chiquita, because the name he’d given her was so awful.”
“If he tricked you, we can take him to court and make him give you the daughter you wanted.” Quinn’s eyes narrowed.
“No, I don’t want Teresa anymore. Besides, I could never send Chiquita back into that family.” Eduardo explained what he’d learned of Chiquita’s upbringing. By the time he finished, both of his friends were upset.
“That explains why she never said a word.” Quinn rubbed at his badge. “I don’t understand why a man would do that to his own daughter. He should be put behind bars.”
“You’re right.” Conlon stood and stretched. “Unfortunately, you know as well as I do, there isn’t a court that would find him guilty of anything. He would say he was disciplining her. Men can get away with a lot in the name of correction.”
“If this doesn’t stop, Eduardo, I want you to come and get me. I don’t have any jurisdiction out here, but maybe I can put some fear into Diego anyway.”
“Thanks.” Eduardo warmed at the thought of having friends willing to help out. “You never did say why you came out here.”
“I saw Antonio Soza in town the other day. He told me all about some new breed of horse you have here. I came to see for myself.” Conlon grinned. “Quinn tagged along because he thought if he stayed home, Kathleen would make him take care of that baby boy of his.”
Eduardo chuckled and led the way to El Rey’s stall. Pride surged through him as Conlon and Quinn both let out low whistles of admiration. El Rey pranced to the front of the stall. He stretched out his nose, his dark mane falling forward.
“This isn’t one of your regular horses.” Conlon rubbed El Rey’s ears. “What is he?”
“He’s an Andalusian.” Eduardo grinned as Quinn and Conlon both gave him questioning glances. “The Andalusian breed began in Spain, but some were brought to South America. I read about them but only learned recently that a few had been brought this far north. After some correspondence, I managed to purchase this stallion and one mare.”
“What’s the advantage to the breed, besides their size?” Conlon asked.
“I wanted a horse that would be bigger because I knew that’s what you were looking at for your troops.” Eduardo couldn’t suppress a surge of excitement. “These horses are incredible. They adapt to their surroundings well, train easily, and they have to be the best-looking horses I’ve ever seen. They’re powerful and agile. As you can see from El Rey, these horses are known for their mild temperament, making them easy to work with. You can teach them to do anything.”
Conlon chuckled. “I’m not sure you care for the horse.”
Eduardo laughed. “I guess I am a little enthusiastic. The more I learned about Andalusians, the better I liked them. Their history goes back a long ways.”
“How soon before you have some foals from him?” Conlon scratched El Rey’s ear. The horse leaned against him.
“I bought the mare because she would foal this spring. That’s the colt that was killed.” Eduardo couldn’t keep the anger from his voice. Losing his only purebred foal had been a loss he hadn’t anticipated. There were always hazards when raising livestock, but he hadn’t counted on a puma coming so close to the house.
“Now I won’t have any more foals from him until next year.”
“I can’t wait to see them.” Conlon gave El Rey a final pat. “I have to get back to town. You know, you might consider bringing your wife to Tucson for a few days. Glory and I would be happy to have you visit.”
“Thanks.” Eduardo walked with them to their horses. “I might do that. I’m getting pretty jumpy with all that’s going on here. Besides, I don’t know if Chiquita has ever been to town. She might enjoy it.”
On her knees, Chiquita worked her way along the row of pepper plants, pulling the young weeds from the ground. The damp earth stuck to her hands and her dress. She loved the smell and feel of the dirt and the plants growing there. She flipped her braid back over her shoulder, wishing she’d taken the time to pin it up before coming out here.
Later, she would take a bath and wash her hair with some of the soap she’d made this morning from the dried yucca roots. After grating the roots, she’d boiled them until the suds began to form. Now, the water was cooling and would be ready to use soon. She almost moaned at the chance to use the fresh soap to get clean after the hard day’s work.
Her thoughts drifted. Over a week had passed since Eduardo stormed in the house to find his friends visiting. He must have been mad at her for some reason. Why couldn’t she learn to trust him? He wasn’t like Papa. He’d proved that over and over, yet every time he got upset about anything, she knew he would hit her. Such a good man didn’t deserve a wife like her. Eduardo needed someone who wouldn’t be so fearful.
In the past week, Eduardo’d been so busy. Many of the mares were foaling. Every night, he was needed to help with one thing or another. Last night had been their first night together. Eduardo read from the Bible, and she realized how much she’d missed hearing those words. He’d been so gentle as he explained more about Jesus to her. Her fingers continued to pull the weeds as she recalled Eduardo explaining that Jesus, the Son of God, had died for her. Eduardo even read the story of the crucifixion to her. When he read about Jesus being whipped by the soldiers, she couldn’t help the tears that burned her eyes. She could feel those lashes. Bending over her work, she tried to hide her distress from Eduardo, but he seemed to know anyway.
He also seemed to understand all of her unspoken questions. Had he asked the same questions of his parents? When she wondered what she had to do to be accepted by God, Eduardo began to tell her that the only way to heaven was by God’s grace. That’s why Jesus died, so He would be the sacrifice for her. She only had to admit her sins, which she already had. Then she needed to believe Jesus was the Son of God and ask Him into her heart
.
The thing Eduardo didn’t understand was that she wasn’t worthy of Jesus. He wouldn’t want someone as ugly and useless as her. He might have died for people like Eduardo or Pilar—those who were truly good people—but He hadn’t died for her. She would have to find another way to get to heaven. The more she learned about heaven, the more she longed to go there. She felt like God was calling to her heart, but it had to be a trick. How many times had Papa told her she was worthless? Would her own father have lied to her? Even her mother and sisters had agreed. Eduardo must be wrong when he said Jesus died for everyone. Her heart broke at the thought.
Swiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress, Chiquita continued down the row. She put the weeds in a pile to throw into the horse pasture. If she left them lying on the moist earth, they would only take root again. Papa’s words were that way. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself he had lied to her, she always remembered what he said. The roots of those words went so deep inside her, she would never get rid of them. Even in her dreams, she could hear his taunting voice.
At least here, she had a haven of peace. No one yelled at her or called her names. Eduardo paid her such sweet attention. She knew she didn’t deserve him. Sitting up, she cocked her head to listen. The dogs were quiet. Birds twittered in the trees near the house. Serenity settled over her, banishing the thoughts of her former life.
Easing up from the ground, she brushed off her knees. She picked up the pile of weeds she’d gathered and carried them to the edge of the garden. She hoped to have the whole garden done in another hour. First, she needed a drink. The sun beating down had warmed her more than she thought, and now her throat was dry.
Returning to the garden a few minutes later, she smiled at her progress. The squash plants were growing fast. In a few weeks, they would have fresh squash. Her mouth watered at the thought. The beans, peppers, and tomatoes would take longer. She always anticipated eating those first fresh vegetables. Nothing tasted better.
Chiquita glanced at the sun as she knelt where she’d left off. She had plenty of time to finish this and take a quick bath before fixing supper. Eduardo had gone to see Señor Soza again today. When he came home, he would be tired. She wanted to have a bath ready for him, along with a good supper.
Seeing a weed on the other side of the pepper row, Chiquita leaned over, stretching out to reach the interloper. A plant on the far side of her exploded. Dirt flew in the air. A sharp crack sounded. She fell forward, confused at what was happening. Had someone shot a gun at her?
Rolling to one side, she struggled to get up. Her dress caught beneath her feet. She fell. A second geyser of dirt erupted. The shot rang out. The dogs went wild. She heard a shout and the sound of pounding feet.
Freeing her dress, she stumbled to her feet. Heart pounding, she raced for the house. She had to get to safety. The adobe brick on the side of the house exploded. Fragments of the dried brick stung her cheek. Racing around the corner, she sobbed in terror. Was she going to die? She wanted to call for help. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Lucio sprinted toward her. He motioned frantically at the house. Didn’t he understand she was trying to get inside? Bark exploded from a tree. Sharp pain raced down her arm. Tears ran down her cheeks. She slipped and fell. A sob tore free. Lucio raised his gun. The sharp crack spurred her to action.
Leaping to her feet, she reached the door. The latch refused to work. Maybe she could hide on the other side of the house. She jerked one more time. The latch came loose, and the door flew open. She tumbled inside. Running through the house, she fell to the floor by her bed. Blood dripped from her face. Had he shot her? Was she going to die?
Oh Jesus, please help me. I don’t want to die without knowing You. Help me to know how I can be worthy. She curled in a ball, sobbing. Never would she be good enough for Jesus. Never.
CHAPTER 13
Chiquita, sweetheart.”
Eduardo’s strong arms were lifting her from where she’d curled up on the floor by her bed. She couldn’t stop shaking. He cuddled her close.
“Are you hurt?” He carried her from the dim room. She bit her lip to keep from whimpering like a child. She didn’t want to go out in the light. What if someone started shooting again? The thought terrified her.
Eduardo sank into the rocking chair. For a long moment, he held her tight. Their breathing melded into one rhythm. She could smell the scent of horses and sunshine on his shirt. He must have just come home. She almost smiled at the way her mind wanted to grasp at normal thoughts when the world was spinning upside down.
“Let me see.” His hand was gentle as he lifted her face from his chest. “Oh sweetheart, you’ve been bleeding. Did you get shot?” A hint of panic infused his voice. She tried to shake her head, but her muscles didn’t seem capable of responding properly.
The front door banged open. Footsteps clattered across the floor. Chiquita wanted to snuggle into Eduardo again. She’d felt so safe there. Never before had she known that kind of comfort.
Her senses were coming awake. The arm nestled against Eduardo ached. Her cheek stung and felt swollen. Remembering the flying shards of adobe and bark, she repressed a shudder, grateful nothing had pierced her eyes.
“How is she?” Pilar sounded breathless as she reached them.
“She’s been bleeding, but I can’t see how bad she’s hurt.”
Hands turned her. Eduardo’s large hands lifted her, then Pilar’s smaller ones brushed across her face.
“Rico, I’ll need some hot water. Jorge, bring me some fresh water for now. I need to clean off the blood and dirt to see how bad this is.” Pilar barked the orders like a general. “Bring her over here, Eduardo. I’ll have to undress her to make sure she wasn’t shot.” Pilar leaned close, her face a mask of concern. “Chiquita, can you hear me?”
In a massive effort, Chiquita lifted her head enough to meet Pilar’s gaze. She tried to nod, but her body felt heavy, exhausted.
“Okay.” Pilar smoothed Chiquita’s hair away from her face. Somehow the braid had come undone and the waves tangled around her body. “Eduardo will bring some light, and we’ll see how you are.”
Biting her lip to keep from moaning at the pain, Chiquita could feel her face drain of blood as Eduardo carried her to her bed. She could tell he tried to be gentle, but every movement sent a jolt of agony through her. Something must be lodged in her arm for it to hurt this much. Had she been shot? She couldn’t remember. Everything happened so fast. All she thought of at the time was getting to safety.
Pilar sent Eduardo to get the water and a rag from Jorge. While he was gone, she began to remove Chiquita’s clothing. The dress, crusted in dirt, stained with blood, came away reluctantly. When she began to pull the left sleeve off the shoulder, Chiquita cried out.
Eduardo rushed into the room. “What’s happening?”
“Look at this.” At Pilar’s grim tone, Chiquita tried to sit up to see what she’d found. The sight of Eduardo in the room when she wasn’t decent made her gasp. Pilar noted the sound and jerked a cover over the top of her.
“Lucio said that the shooter hit the tree as Chiquita ran past. A piece of the wood went clear through her dress and is buried in her arm.” Pilar worried her lip with her teeth. “We have to get that fragment out.”
Pulling his knife from his pocket, Eduardo began to cut the material from around the wood. Chiquita could tell he wanted to rip the cloth away, but he seemed too concerned about her comfort to do something so rash. When he had the area clear, she could see the flesh puckered where the bark-covered wood had pierced her arm.
“I’ll have to get this out.” Eduardo sat on the bed beside her, his face serious. His eyes seemed to show a reluctance to cause her pain. Chiquita’s heart ached for him. She knew without a doubt that Eduardo was not at all like Papa. Pressing her lips together, she nodded for him to continue.
With a sharp tug, the piece of wood pulled free. She could feel the blood coming out, but s
he didn’t look. Closing her eyes, she tried to stop the tears. She ached all over. She wanted more than anything to be back in Eduardo’s arms. Stunned, she realized how much she’d come to care for him. Did she love him? She wasn’t sure she even knew what love was.
“Hold this tight on her arm, Eduardo.” Pilar pressed a cloth to slow the bleeding. “I think this is the worst. I don’t see any bullet wounds. I’ll get Jorge to bring some prickly pear pads. We have to get the rest of that dirt out, and the cactus should do it.”
As she left the room to give instructions to the others, Eduardo held the rag to Chiquita’s arm. She gazed up at him as he touched her cheek where the adobe and splinters of tree had cut her. Anger darkened his eyes. He tensed, as if he wanted to do something about this but didn’t know how. For the first time, she wasn’t afraid of his anger. This time, she knew he wasn’t mad at her. Instead, his gentle touch soothed her. Warmth flushed her cheeks. He’d called her “sweetheart” earlier. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought any man would call her an endearment.
A few minutes later, Pilar bustled back into the room. Behind her, Rico carried a steaming pan. He placed it on a table before leaving again. Chiquita almost sighed with relief. She couldn’t bear the thought of someone she didn’t know well seeing her like this.
Slipping a hand behind Chiquita’s head, Pilar lifted her up a bit. “I want you to drink this tea, Chiquita. This is made with some catclaw leaves. They’ll help you relax. Picking out all these stickers could take time. We’ll try to be as gentle as we can.”
The warm tea had an unusual taste, but Chiquita swallowed obediently. When she finished, Pilar retrieved the pan Rico had carried in earlier. With care, Pilar lifted half of a prickly pear cactus pad from the hot water. She cooled it for a minute, then molded the cut side to Chiquita’s arm where the tree fragment pierced her. Taking a long cloth, she wrapped the pad to wedge it tight against the skin. Chiquita gritted her teeth to keep from crying out.
A Bride's Agreement Page 52