by John Horst
“She’s good, Robert. You know she’s good. And I’m sorry, but you get both of us if you get me.”
“I know.” He laughed. “There’s an old Indian saying you know, East Indian, not Red Indian. When you marry a woman, you marry her family.”
“Oh, then you are in for it, Robert Curtin.” She turned to kiss him. “You’re in for it.”
“We should have told her about the ring.”
“I know. It just, time got away from us, and then she slept for so long. I just forgot. It wasn’t your fault.”
She was dressed now and he stopped her. “Rebecca, before you go.”
“Yes?”
“I need to talk to you about something.” She didn’t like his serious tone.
“What is it?” She sat back down on the bed beside him.
“I want you to go back to Maryland.”
“You’re kidding me. Robert, you can’t be serious.”
“No, Rebecca. I’m not kidding you and yes, I am serious. Something is up, something dangerous and I didn’t want Marta to come down and I didn’t even know you at the time but now that I do, and now that we will be together forever, I don’t want you down there. I don’t want you in Mexico. I don’t really want Marta in Mexico, but know my chances are nil of convincing her to not go back to her ranch.”
“And then you’ll know, if you’ve learned anything about me at all these past days, that it will be impossible for you to keep me from the two best most important people in my life. You might as well kill me than keep me from the two of you.”
“I know. Knew you’d say that but I needed to try.” He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. “Something bad’s happening Rebecca, I don’t know what it is, but I need to do some investigating, need to do some cloak and dagger stuff, sounds silly, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. Who’s doing all this, Robert? Who do you suspect?”
“Tolkenhorn mostly, maybe the government, maybe my employer. I don’t think Dan George is dead, Rebecca, but I do think Marta’s being lured down here, something is up and it isn’t safe.”
“Marta got a telegram, Robert.” She told me not to tell you or anyone about it. It was very cryptic. Signed by the letter Z. It read that Dan was alive and that we weren’t to trust the people close to us.” She leaned forward. “Let’s have a cigarette.” They smoked. “What do you make of that, Robert?”
“I bet it’s from Tolkenhorn. The Z means nothing, just some drama. He’s a dumb ass, Rebecca, but he thinks he’s clever. He wants Marta to sell, wanted me in on it. He thinks I’m with him.” He grabbed Rebecca by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You know I’m not.” He was deadly serious and she loved him all the more for it.
“With all my heart, Robert.”
He thought about the ring and Marta. “Rebecca, what if I asked you to keep what we have together as a secret?”
“Oh, this is real cloak and dagger stuff, Robert.” She smiled coyly at him. “What do you have in mind?”
“What if we broke off our engagement?” She looked a little ill. “Not for real. Oh, my girl, I love you more than life itself. I swear to you, I love you so much.” He kissed her again.
“But what can be gained of it?”
“Time and I need time to figure this out, and it would be good if it could appear that I was playing you and Marta. Would look good to Tolkenhorn, but it would not be real.”
“And we’d lie to Marta?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t like that. I’ve never lied to Marta.” She looked down at her beautiful ring. “Tell me exactly what we are to do, Robert. It’s silly to say we aren’t serious, she’s seen us together for days, she knows me, she knows I’m not that kind of girl.”
He thought about that. “Maybe tell her you called it off. Tell her we had a disagreement, that I was moving too fast, that you gave the ring back. You can’t wear the ring on the ranch and let Tolkenhorn see it, that would ruin our little ruse.”
“So, we can’t even see each other? For how long?” She didn’t like this plan at all. She didn’t like lying to Marta.
He kissed her again. “I don’t know how long. Rebecca, you told me of the bandits who captured you. Let me say that these people, Tolkenhorn, the people I work for, they are much the same. They don’t rape literally, but they rape nonetheless. I told you I nearly died up in Alaska. That was because they sent me on a suicide mission. They let a bunch of men go to their deaths just to potentially increase their profits. That’s what we are dealing with, Rebecca. And it’s not about the land, it’s not about beating them at their own game, I don’t give a hang about money, really. I don’t, Rebecca. But it’s about doing what’s right. I know Marta loves the people and is a good hacendado. I know she thinks of her people first and I’m with her and I’m with you.”
“I love you Robert Curtin.” She kissed him. “Have I told you that, lately? I love you.”
She touched Marta’s arm gently. “I’m awake, Rebecca.” She didn’t turn to face her sister.
“Marta, I’m sorry.”
“I know, Rebecca.” She rolled over to face her and her eyes and cheeks were wet. She’d been crying again and it scared Rebecca so. It was not in Marta’s nature to cry, and she was crying so much lately.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Her own tears came now. “I’m so, so sorry. I hate to see you this way, I’m sorry, Marta.”
Marta sat up and brushed the hair from her sister’s eyes. “No, it’s not you. You’ve done nothing wrong, Rebecca. This is ludicrous. I’m being absurd and I’m so sorry. Curtin’s a good man. I don’t know what comes over me! Are they all right? Is Pedro all right? I had no right to talk that way. He told me something very personal and I used it to hurt him. I’m sorry, Rebecca. You go, go marry Curtin, have a hundred babies. It’s what’s right.”
“I know, darling. But we will always, always be sisters, we’ll always be together, maybe not physically, but in our hearts darling, I swear to you.”
They cried together again and Marta suddenly remembered. “Let’s see this ring.” She held up Rebecca’s hand and it was gone. “What’s this?”
Rebecca reached over and lit two cigarettes. Marta watched her as she smoked.
“I know, it’s a terrible habit, you’ve all driven me to it.” She smiled. “Marta, Robert asked me to create a ruse. We’re to be married, but something is going on with this Tolkenhorn fellow. Robert wants Tolkenhorn to think that he’s still working to get the ranch from you. He doesn’t want Tolkenhorn to know that he and I are in love. He wanted me to lie to you and tell you that we broke off our engagement, but I’ll never lie to you, Marta.”
“And he thinks you’re going to lie to me?”
“Yes.”
“So, you’re lying to him instead of me.”
She hadn’t thought of it that way. “Ye…s, I guess I am.”
Marta grinned. “You’re a sneaky one, Rebecca Walsh.”
“I love him, Marta. We’re going to be married.”
“Rebecca.” Marta smoked and blew the smoke away from them and thought for a moment. “What do we really know of Curtin?”
“I don’t know. He’s kind and lovely and I love him. He almost died up in Alaska. I know all that. He fought like a wild animal to save me from the masher.”
Marta laughed. “Masher. More of a goon.”
I know he’s trying to help you, Marta.”
“I’m not so certain about him, Rebecca.” She held up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, I know he’s stealing you away and that hurts, but it has to be. We can’t be a pair of old maids living together, we’re too pretty for that.” Rebecca smiled. “But there’s something, I can’t put my finger on it.”
“But there’s something.”
“I didn’t want to say anything, Rebecca, but yesterday, when I was locked away, I guess Pedro was pacing around outside my door, worrying over me. He’s such a big lunkhead, God bless ‘im. He’s sweet, isn’t he, Rebecca?”
�
�He is.”
“Anyway, he was loitering out there and Curtin came up and they were talking. I couldn’t make much out but Curtin was very animated, kind of strange, never heard him act or talk this way. And I heard him say something I didn’t like, Rebecca.”
“Oh?”
“He was saying, and I only heard one sentence, like he was telling the punch line of a joke.”
“What?”
“But it wasn’t a joke. He said, once you’ve got ’em on their backs, it’s smooth sailing.”
“Oh.” Rebecca finished her cigarette. She suddenly felt dizzy, a little ill and it wasn’t from the tobacco.
“I don’t know, Rebecca, but let’s see how it all plays outs. We have each other, Rebecca, that’s what’s most important. And we know now that Tolkenhorn has lured me, us to Mexico, that hopefully Dan George is still alive, and that, sweetheart, forgive me for saying this, that Robert Curtin might be on our side.”
The double ruse seemed to be working. When they disembarked, Curtin was courteous and aloof. Pedro del Calle was confused. He stood by as the ladies bags were loaded, they were ready to make the trip to Marta’s ranch. He hung back and watched with interest as Rebecca got into the big automobile with her sister and Curtin stood by as he’d made his own arrangements to get back. He walked up on Del Calle and shook him by the hand. “Captain, it’s been quite a ride.”
“Agreed.” Pedro bowed slightly and looked past Curtin at the girls. They were ready to leave. He looked back at Curtin who gave a weak, wounded smile.
“It’s a long story.”
“Any luck finding your bag?”
“No, it’s gone. They looked high and low for it, will send it on if it turns up. If it was stolen the thief will be disappointed. Some dirty clothes and a very amateurishly written-in journal.” He shrugged and Del Calle handed him his card.
“Keep in touch, Robert. Drop me a line and send it here, it’ll find me.”
“What’s in store for you in Vera Cruz?”
“Whatever the oil companies or sugar companies need.” He grinned a little. “Cynicism comes with the job, Robert. God help me, I’m a United States Marine.”
Marta called out to the captain, ignoring Curtin. “Pedro.”
He walked up and she reached out to grab his hand. She pulled him close and kissed him gently on the mouth as she pushed a card into his hand. “Write, please, Pedro. Write to me.”
The engine roared and they were off. Captain Pedro del Calle stood in the road, holding Marta’s address with dust in his eyes. He headed on to Vera Cruz.
Adulio had the ranch ready. Like two long lost princesses returning home, they were greeted with great pomp. Everyone was out to welcome them. Esmeralda waited patiently, the last in line. She’d never look up, always head to the ground. She loved Marta more than life itself, more than Adulio, her husband. From the first time they’d met, she became Marta’s lady in waiting which pleased Uncle Alejandro to no end. She’d been with Del Toro longer than had even Adulio who took pity on her when he arrived to work the hacienda where she devoted herself completely to the bandit Jefe.
Esmeralda had been deaf since childhood and, because of this, became mute as well, not because she could not speak, she could, but the funny tone of her voice made the children tease her, and she eventually stopped talking all together. Adulio referred to her as muñeco. She was a tiny and timid and quiet version of Pilar, the Walsh’s housekeeper and matron of the mule ranch.
Marta was never ever cross or mean to her, as she loved Esmeralda. When she’d gotten to the end of the line she stood in front of the old housekeeper, lifted her face by the chin and smiled warmly. Esmeralda always looked the same, always wearing a little, half-witted impish grin. Marta hugged her servant and gave her a gift, the most beautiful shell rosary she could find in Nassau. Esmeralda looked on at it, nodded her timid nod and returned her eyes to the ground.
Adulio hissed at her, poked his wife firmly on the shoulder to get her attention and demanded she show more respect. She mouthed a weak, inaudible gracias and looked away.
The ranch looked good, the money from the oil had come in handy and everyone was enjoying the benefits of the new found wealth. Marta would not allow any improvements to the structures. Most hacendados spared no expense in importing great pieces of art, Italian marble, Spanish tiles. The places became magnificent palaces, but Marta would not have it. Everyone lived well, in well-constructed homes. The buildings were well maintained and every one had electric lights, but she would not waste money on nonsense.
She’d built a school on the ranch and the children there and from the surrounding countryside enjoyed the benefits it provided. To Marta, education was the key, she’d learned it from the old man and she’d learned it from the Walshes. It was her first priority and she worked diligently to have a first class education opportunity for all. She had her own staff of teachers and the children would be educated and encouraged to do what they could according to their talents and ambition, no opportunity was ever denied them.
Thankfully, the oil wells were off to the far corner of the land, a good ten miles away and they could neither be seen nor heard. This is where Curtin and Tolkenhorn resided. It was now a little village in itself, and all the gringos brought down from the states were living there. They weren’t a bad lot, overall, but most had no interest in Mexico. They were there to do a job and nothing more. Many went down to Tampico as often as they could and then on by ship to home, some took the harder route and rode by horseback up to Texas, then by train to visit their homes and families en el Norte. This suited Marta just fine and she was glad to not have Curtin and the other oil men under foot.
She was pleased with what she found upon her arrival and was not the slightest bit concerned. Marta’s great weakness was that she possessed an overconfidence that often got her into trouble. In this instance, she was overconfident in her ability to handle the threat of being lured down to Mexico. She didn’t believe the mining company could touch or hurt her and in this presumption she was out of her depth.
She decided that she’d go along with Rebecca’s and Robert Curtin’s little folly, and she was actually enjoying it more than she’d imagined she would. She finally had her beloved sister back to herself and the girls were reverting quickly to their desert and Mexican ways. They’d spent so much time in this part of the world growing up that it was always a special treat for them when they’d returned.
Marta soon adopted her old manly dress and Adulio had gotten Pumpkin, Marta’s favorite pony in shape for her to ride. Rebecca remained a little more austere, Eastern in her habits. She’d grown so accustomed to riding English and left the big Mexican saddle in the tack room.
They’d ridden now for better part of a week, visiting everyone who lived on the land. Marta had developed quite a status since taking over the ranch so many years before. Uncle Alejandro was a good Jefe. He treated his people well, with respect, and his successes in the cattle business, and later sugar business would never take control of his good senses. He’d never let the making of money take precedence over the welfare of his people. Marta continued this legacy They loved her for it and everyone in the region knew that, whatever happened in Mexico, this little corner of it would likely remain unchanged. The people here were happy, they had autonomy, they each worked their own little piece of land and there was always enough of it left for growing an ample crop of corn.
Despite being a wealthy and powerful hacendado, Marta enjoyed hearing the stories of Villa and Zapata. It was a queer thing, as one of the great land owners, she potentially had the most to lose if they finally won the day, but despite this she was ultimately on their side. She knew that she was not a typical hacendado. She knew that so many of the peoples of Mexico, particularly the Indios, lived horrible, squalid and desperate lives, that Díaz had drained so much of the wealth from the country and that the Americans and Japanese and Europeans had grown wealthy, extracting, pulling the wealth from the land and lea
ving nothing behind.
She heard a man say once, that the way Díaz treated Mexico was as if he were a stupid farmer who refused to put anything back into the land. One could harvest that way for two or three seasons, extract all the riches possible from the land, but sooner or later, the land would be depleted, the soil would become barren, and eventually, it would no longer yield. A good farmer knew that part of his profits must always be used to put nutrients back into the soil, needed to rotate the crops, let the land rest, not just suck it dry. That is what happened to Mexico. The land was sucked dry and now the peons had had enough. Villa and Zapata were their instruments and Marta could not help to be excited and hopeful for them.
Curtin was not having so pleasant a homecoming. He did not like being away from Rebecca and Miles Tolkenhorn did not help, either. He was especially friendly to Curtin, treating him as if they’d been lifelong friends. It made him feel uneasy. And on top of this, the company had sent them a new engineer. Curtin knew the man from Alaska. He was a relative of one of the officers of the company, incompetent, stupid, unpleasant, and now Curtin was stuck with him. There was nothing quite so miserable than to have a company’s operations run on a policy of nepotism. It would ensure failure every time.
They’d obtained some good studies for gold in the mountains in the northwest corner of Marta’s ranch while Curtin was away and the new engineer had been assigned to pursue this opportunity. Curtin tried to see the paperwork on it and the young engineer kept it from him. It was typical of the fellow, but atypical of a good team, Curtin did not like it one bit.
Tolkenhorn sensed it, sensed the tension between the two men and tried to diffuse it, albeit in his usual, incompetent style.
The men glared at each other, like a pair of prize fighters circling in the ring, looking for a weakness, looking to make a crippling blow. Mile threw the suitcase on the desk between them.
“Curtin, my boy. They found your case.” He smiled stupidly at the prize on the young engineer’s desk. “Looks like it spent some time in the gulf.” It was a moldering pile of garbage.