by Ward, Marsha
James had to get up and walk around, his hand over his mouth. After a bit, he returned to the rock and sat.
“I thought I knew love then.” He shook his head. “You brought that to me, my sweet girl. Now my heart is truly broke, and my soul, too.” His shoulders sagged, and he sat with his head bowed for a long time. He finally spoke again.
“I’ll be goin’ now. Not to the Greenhorn—that’s my pa’s dream, since I don’t have you to build for.” James leaned down and brushed a speck of grit from his boot. “I don’t have a notion to work Uncle Jonathan’s claim. I can’t bear any more diggin’ right yet.” He looked at one of his hands, then rubbed his chest with it. “I heard tell I got kin over amongst the Mormons. Maybe I’ll pass through their country and see what they’re all about.”
James passed his hand over his face, then straightened his shoulders. “I can break horses wherever there’s such work, so I reckon I’ll drift till I heal some wounds and rub off my raw edges.”
The wind from the summit swept through the trees, brushing against the leaves. James listened to the sighing sound for a long time, then whispered, “I hope you forgive me for letting your killers live, my sweet girl.” He listened again to the sighing wind, then stood, biting his lips to keep his control.
“Amparo!” he called out. His breath came hard, ragged. “Amparo, te amo. Always and always.”
He clapped his hat on his head and listened, knowing as he did it, he would never hear her voice again. But as he listened, the wind blew soft and gentle around his body, and brought a faint whisper to his heart.
“Chemes, mi amor, gracias. Te amo para siempre.”
~~~
As he descended into Trinidad, James sighed and half turned to glance behind him to be sure the four men were still secure on their saddles. They had long since quit complaining, and rode sullenly in his wake, hands bound and tied to their saddle horns, and feet tied together with ropes slung under the bellies of their horses. The dog brought up the rear. James turned to the front again, fighting the overwhelming urge to tumble from his horse and sleep where he lay.
He forced his eyes open to look for the sheriff’s office along the strip of road that formed Trinidad’s main street. Black spots danced before his eyes. He looked down, blinking to drive away the spots, and noticed that his hands trembled from fatigue and the crushing strain of the last few days. When he looked up, he squinted down the street. Three large wagons, bows covered with soiled canvas, were pulling into the other end of town, and he wondered who was traveling cross-country at this time of year. He shook his head, then located the sign he was looking for.
The sheriff’s small adobe office was opposite Philo’s hotel and mercantile. James gave an inward shudder and reined his horse to a halt. The wagons were across the street now, pulled to a stop. A young woman shook dust from her shawl and climbed down from the seat of the third wagon. She pushed back her sunbonnet with one wrist, exposing hair the color of wheat. He looked away, sitting still a moment to summon the strength to swing his right leg over the cantle of his saddle to dismount. I hope I don’t fall on my face, he thought, his jaw tightening.
As he concentrated, he heard a gasp from someone across the street, followed by an explosive “James!”
He turned in his seat, shaken to his toes. He knew that voice.
“James,” came his name again. It was the young woman speaking. “I thought I’d never see you again!” She bit her lip and started across the street.
He heard a strange, guttural cry, and realized it came from himself. Moisture slid down his cheeks, constricting his throat. The ache of Amparo’s loss swelling in his chest blocked his breath. A measure of calm grounded him at last, and he finally could inhale. He looked down at the young woman who had come to stand next to his horse. After a moment he extended his left hand to her. The calmness increased, loosening his tight throat. He exhaled, took another breath, and held it a moment before he expelled it softly.
“Jessica.”
THE END
Spanish Glossary and Phrase Guide
Thank you for purchasing this box set and taking the time to read Ride to Raton. I’ve added a Spanish Glossary to this box set, which I hope will give you a bit of the flavor of the language used by Amparo. ~Marsha Ward
adios - Good-bye, literally, go with God.
Allí las tiene. - There they are. Literally “there you have them.”
amigo - friend
Amparo - This is a female given name meaning shelter. Yes, it ends with an “o.” That's because it's a noun. Another female given name ending in “o” is Consuelo, meaning consolation. These are in the category of names like Faith, Hope, Charity, etc. in English.
anglo - non-hispanic person
Aquí estamos - Here we are
arêtes - earrings, or as James calls them, “ear bobs”
Ave María - Hail Mary (Latin)
¡Ay! - An interjection meaning alas or ouch.
¡Ay de mi! - My goodness, oh my, etc.
Bésame, mi amor. - Kiss me, my love.
caballero - horseman
¡Callate! - Be quiet!
Chemes, mi amor, gracias. Te amo para siempre. - James, my love, thank you. I love you forever.
chica - girl
Cierto. Y ésta es mi mamá. Ella murió. - Certainly. And this is my mama. She died.
comida - food
Con Juan Pablo Fuentes, me imagino. ¡Ay de mi! ¿Qué será conmigo? - With Juan Pablo Fuentes, I imagine. Woe is me! What will become of me?
Creo que te amo. - I think I love you.
Dáme el palo. - Give me the stick
Déjame acabarla. - Let me finish it.
Déje, joven. - Hold up, young man.
digo - I say
Don - A Spanish title of respect, roughly equivalent to Sir.
¿Él está muerto? - He is dead?
¿Elena es la mujer de tu hermano? - Elena is your brother's wife?
¿Eres feliz? - Are you happy?
Eres tan serio. - You're so serious.
¡Eres tú! Gracias a los cielos, eres tú. - It's you! Thanks to the heavens, it's you.
Es mi placer. - It's my pleasure.
Es muy bella. - It's very beautiful.
Es un anillo nupcial - It's a nuptual (wedding) ring
está bien - that's fine
Esta capa es tan fea. - This cloak is so ugly.
Ésta es la casa de mi papá. - This is my papa's house.
está muerto - (he/she) is dead
¿Estás herido? - Are you injured?
éstas son tus espuelas de regalo. ¡Feliz Año Nuevo! - These spurs are my gift to you. Happy New Year!
¡Este anillo es magnífico! - This ring is magnificent!
Ésto es mi papa - This (stick figure) is my papa.
Estoy confundida. - I'm confused.
familia - family
frijoles - beans
gracias - thank you
Gracias, mi amor, ¿pero no me traes aretes? - Thank you, my love, but you don't bring me earrings? Note that in Spanish, the upside down punctuation may occur in the middle of a sentence, and that's okay.
Hize un convenion sagrado. - I made a sacred vow. By the way, “h” is silent in Spanish, so “hize” is voiced “eezay.”
Hombre - Man. When Amparo used it, it was a little comment on her man being amorous.
jornada - journey
Leones - lions--the historic name of Walsenburg, Colorado, was La Plaza de los Leones (Lion's Square), which was named after the Leon family who lived on the north side of the Cuchara (spoon) River.
lingo - (English) slang term for words or language, probably a derivative of lengua, meaning language
listo - means both “bright” and “ready”
¿ ‘Ma’? ¿Quieres decir ‘mamá’? Ella no es mi mamá. Es mi madrastra. - Ma? Do you mean 'mama'? She is not my mama. She's my stepmother.
Madrastra. No es mi mamá. Y es una mujer sumamente malvada. Le odio.
- Stepmother. She is not my mama. And she is a really evil woman. I hate her.
Madre de Dios - Mother of God
¡Madre Santa! - Holy Mother!
maldito caballo - damned horse
Malditos - bad men
mama - mama
María Santísima - Holiest Mary
mi - possessive adjective my--in Spanish, a noun is always preceded by an article or, in this case, a possessive adjective: mi mamá, la chica, el niño (my mama, the girl, the [boy] child).
mi esposo - my husband (Amparo uses this form between herself and Molly, but when talking to James, she usually calls him “mi marido.”)
mi papa se casó de nuevo. - My papa married again.
mi pobre marido - my poor husband (marido is a less formal, more intimate form of “husband,” almost “lover,” so if you're going to refer to one's husband to her face, use “esposo.”)
mi pobrecito - my poor little one (male)
muchacha - Another way to say “girl,” “lass” or “young woman.” Chica is for a younger girl, or is more slangy.
muerto - dead
mujer - woman, also a slang term for wife
Necesito comprar algunas cositas. - I have to buy a few things.
Necesito comprar harina de maíz. - I need to buy corn meal.
Necesito espuelas de plata para mi esposo. Espuelas. Para sus botas. - I need silver spurs for my husband. Spurs. For his boots.
niños - children
¿no? - Spanish sentences in dialogue may end in “no,” if the speaker is wondering if you understand or is asking you a question.
No entiendo - I don't understand
No entiendo nada de esto. - I don't understand any of this.
no seas estúpido - don't be stupid
no tengo familia - I don't have a family
Noche de bodas - Wedding night
Otra mujer se casó con mi papá. Otra mujer. Ella es mi madrastra. - Another woman married my papa. Another woman. She is my stepmother.
Padre - Father, often used in reference to a priest.
pan dulce - sweet bread
papa - papa
para siempre - forever
pobrecita - poor little thing (female)
por supuesto - of course
¡Qué belleza! - What beauty!
¡Qué cantidad de niños! - What a lot of kids!
¿Qué es esta cosa? - What is this thing?
¿Qué es esto, mi amor? - What is this, my love?
¡Qué maravilla! ¡Qué lujo! - What a wonder! What luxury!
¡Qué niño! - What a child!
¿Qué pasa? - What's happening, what's up?
¡Qué vergüenza! - How shameless!
querida - dear (female)
Quiero comprar - I want to buy
Quiero comprarte espuelas de caballero. - I want to buy horsemen's spurs for you.
Quiero comprarte un regalito para el Año Nuevo - I want to buy you a little gift for New Year's.
¡Quita la ropa! - Take the (your) clothes off!
rancho - ranch
salgamos de aquí, por favor - Let's leave, please
sangre - blood
Santa María - St. Mary, Holy Mary, Blessed Mary
¿Se fue a San Francisco? - She went to San Francisco?
Señor - Mr.
Señora - Mrs.
Señorita - Miss
¡Siéntate! - Sit down!
te amo - I love you
¿Te gustan, mi amor? - Do you like them, my love?
Tenemos visitante - We have a visitor
tengo tanto temor - I'm so frightened
Tienes frío. Ven aquí o yo tendré que ir allá. - You're cold. Come here, or I'll have to go over there.
tortilla - flat corn cake
¡Válgame Dios! Eres tú. - God help me! It's you.
¿Vamos? ¿Me dices que ella se fue? ¿Para dónde se fue? - Let's go? You're saying she's gone? Where did she go?
¡Vaya! - (literally) Get out! (figuratively) Yikes! Ack! Shoot! or similar exclamations
¡Vaya de mi esposo! - Get away from my husband!
ven aquí - come here
Virgen Santa - Holy Virgin, Blessed Virgin
viuda - widow
Vivía al otro lado de la plaza. Mi padre nació en la misma casa. - We lived on the other side of the square. My father was born in that same house.
Voy a lavar tu cara - I'm going to wash your face
¿Y cuál de nosotros es listo? - And which of us is bright?
¿Y qué de mí? - And what of me? What will become of me?
Back to Contents
Trail of Storms
Book 3: The Owen Family Saga
A novel by
Marsha Ward
Dedication
To my children, Audra, Jeremy, Gregory, Karen, and Kevin, whose examples amidst trials and troubles have led me to know that I must go forward in faith, believing that a better day is just beyond the horizon. Thank you for your encouragement and support.
Tidbits and Acknowledgments
Several years ago, I was solicited to donate something of value for an auction to benefit the local Scout troop. I offered to name a character after the winning bidder. My friend Jeff Julander bid high, and threw in five dollars more if I would name a goat after his friend. Thanks Jeff! A pivotal character bears the name of Jeff Julander, and the Julander family’s goat is named Mike. I rounded out the fictional family by using some actual family names, as well as some fakes ones. Be it known to all, however, that beyond names and general physical descriptions, my Julander characters are not the same as the actual people whose names they bear. The characters are purely a product of my imagination.
Albuquerque, New Mexico Territory, is mentioned frequently in this work. At the time in which our characters lived, it was called “Alburquerque,” with an extra “r.” In 1706, Don Francisco Cuervo y Valdés, the provincial Governor of New Mexico, named the settlement in honor of the Viceroy of New Spain, Don Francisco Fernández de la Cueva, Duke of Alburquerque. It is generally believed that sometime after the coming of the railroad in the 1880s, an Anglo station master dropped the first “r” because he couldn’t correctly pronounce the Spanish name of the town. “Albuquerque” became the common spelling thereafter.
Despite the historical time frame, I have used the modern spelling as a convenience to my readers (and also to prevent Microsoft Word from going crazy with spelling error underlines as I typed).
One of my characters speaks Spanish only a little, and that badly. The word henti is his approximation of the correct word gente, meaning “people.”
My grateful thanks goes out to the ever-gracious Connie Wolfe and Kerry Blair for their invaluable brainstorming and characterization suggestions; to the dozens of readers from American Night Writers Association who gave initial critiques; to C.K. Crigger for title suggestions; to Betty Wilson for her encouragement; to Josi S. Kilpack for the liberal use of her red pen; to Elizabeth Petty Bentley for her advice on edits; to Dan Olsen for checking the testosterone content; to Shirley Bahlmann, Robert J. Randisi, and Pat Decker Nipper for their endorsements; and to the many generous readers who contributed praise for my work.
Chapter 1
“You girls stick tight together. Those blasted Yankee riders are still botherin’ folks.”
Jessica Bingham paused outside the bakery’s front door, letting Ma’s words roll off her shoulders as she rearranged the loaves of freshly baked bread in her basket. She looked down the quiet street. The rising sun’s pink and gold rays chased night’s shadows from the cracks and crannies of Mount Jackson’s storefronts. She inhaled the fresh scents of the morning to clear the heavy odor of yeast from her nose. Spring was here. “Hmmm,” she sighed, and felt a smile of satisfaction lift her mouth. Ma was wrong to worry. This perfect day could hold no danger to her or her sisters.
And yet … the previous week, two young married ladies had been knocked to the ground by a band of cavalrymen of the occupati
on force. One merely had the wind knocked out of her, but the other had lost her unborn babe. Her husband had protested. He’d been badly beaten. A feeling of unease crept over Jessica. Perhaps there were no perfect days in Virginia anymore?
Her older, recently married sister, Hannah, pushed past, saying, “Jessie, get yourself out of my way. This bread won’t deliver itself.”
Jessie stepped aside and let Hannah pass, since she always seemed to be in a hurry. She had to take the lead in every endeavor, and couldn’t abide being late. Maybe that’s why she was born first of the twins.
The other twin, Hepzibah, came out of the door and stopped at Jessie’s side. She nudged Jessie and said, rolling her eyes, “Hannah’s just so rude. Don’t give in to her. Ever since she got married, she thinks she’s the queen of the world.”
Jessie shrugged and stepped out into the street, Hepzibah following after. “Maybe she is, in Robert Fletcher’s eyes. He treats her like a fine lady.”
Hepzibah made a small, anguished sound. Jessie looked around at her sister, whose expression had changed to chagrin.
Jessie said in a rush, “Oh Heppie, don’t mind my prattle. I reckon George loves you just as much as Robert does Hannah. He’s bound to say so real soon.”
This time, Heppie’s sound was definitely a sigh, and her eyes began to redden.
Jessie, trying to divert Heppie from having a crying spell in the middle of the street, called out to Hannah, who strode along five yards ahead of them. “Wait for us. Ma will have a conniption if we don’t stay together.” She looked around the deserted street, her nerves beginning to twang. “Do you see any riders down the road?”
“No,” Hannah replied. “It’s too early for those lazy bums to be out. Besides, I ain’t seen ‘em for days. Ma’s just got a bug in her ear.” Hannah carried her basket of baked goods on her hip. She stopped walking and gave it a little hitch to make it ride higher.