Favorite Wife (41 page)

My brain began slowly to function when I backed into the house with my end of the heavy dresser. It was something how she brought the furniture on this very day, when I had been feeling so low.

Behind Lillie, I caught sight of Ivan as he followed us inside, his arms full with the rocker. Suddenly I froze in my backward movements and searched his freckled face. A dawning realization clutched at my midsection.

No, he wouldn't have! Ivan wouldn't have said anything. Yet, he avoided my eyes. Why?

I stood at my kitchen window watching the first golden rays of a beautiful April dawn creep over the distant highway. I caught a flash of metal. I immediately recognized Uncle Bud's blue pickup slowing down for the bend in the road by the eucalyptus trees. The pickup gained momentum for the short stretch to my place, and with a quick spin of the wheel, Naomi Zarate Chynoweth pulled through the opening in the barbed wire fence that marked the boundary of my lot. Wrapping my robe tighter around me, I opened the back door as she stepped out of the truck.

She smiled a shy greeting and in Spanish said, “Susana, my sister-in-law Victoria is in labor, and my mother isn't feeling well enough to help deliver the baby. Can you come?”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Why, yes, Naomi. I'd be glad to help, if you're sure I'll do. I've never attended a birth before.”

“That doesn't matter. I'll tell you what needs to be done.”

“Then I'll go get dressed,” I motioned for her to come inside.

“My brother Benjamin came by a few minutes ago,” Naomi called after me as I headed down the hall. “Victoria has had contractions most of the night, so we need to hurry. Is there someone who can stay with your children?”

“I'm here,” Ivan answered for me. He had passed me in the hallway, yanking a shirt over his head. “Don't worry about the kids. I can handle them.”

I pulled my clothes on and ran a brush through my hair. Giving Ivan quick instructions, I followed Naomi outside. As we drove toward the Zarates', I stole a sidelong glance at her. She still appeared a bit pale, and I remembered that her own baby boy was only a few weeks old. She didn't look as though she were back to normal health yet.

I understood why Naomi had chosen me to assist her with Victoria's confinement. Because of Uncle Bud, Naomi felt a kinship with me. And also, because of Bud's association with Ervil, she felt uncomfortable asking the other Joelite women of Los Molinos for help. She knew that I was aware of her dislike and mistrust of Ervil. Her life had to be one of constant stress, with Uncle Bud's home being Ervil's headquarters in Los Molinos.

Benjamin Zarate Jr.'s two-acre parcel of land was located to the right of his father Benjamin Sr.'s place. Between the younger man's trailer and his father's small adobe home was the well Floren LeBaron had witched. New saplings had been planted along the borders of the lots, their green leaves attesting to the success of Floren LeBaron's trip to Los Molinos. Benjamin's youthful, dark face broke into a relieved smile as he opened the door of the small trailer for his sister and me.

“Victoria's lying down,” he said nervously, motioning toward the back end of the trailer. “The pains are too severe for her to walk around anymore. I have hot water on the stove.”

“Good,” Naomi squeezed her brother's arm, then set her medical bag down, poured hot water into a wash bowl, and began to scrub. As she lathered her arms, she glanced at Benjamin. His angular face showed signs of weariness as he paced back and forth. Stopping a moment, he chewed at his thumbnail and gazed longingly out the window.

“Now, Ben,” Naomi said, “you don't have to stay unless you want to. We can take care of things. Why don't you go on outside for a while? If Victoria needs you, Susana'll come and get you.”

He nodded, “Okay. I'm going. But I won't be far.”

I followed Naomi to the sink and scrubbed while she entered the bedroom to examine Victoria. Emerging after a few minutes, she shook her head. “She's got a way to go yet, Susana; she's small, even for a first birth.”

Filling a basin with cool water, I entered the dark, cramped bedroom. Victoria lay on a lumpy mattress, her childlike face beaded with sweat. She smiled up at me as I bathed her forehead and arms and quietly visited with her. Once I was through, Naomi took her sister-in-law's hands and pulled her up off the pillow.

“You need to walk a bit, Querida. Come on, you can do it.”

With Naomi's help, Victoria stumbled through the small trailer as one contraction followed another. I watched Naomi, sensing her inner strength. Uncle Bud had indeed found himself a fine woman. Thinking about Bud reminded me of Aunt Thelma, and sudden loneliness for her left an ache in my chest. I missed her so much—all of them, Mark, Duane, Rena . . .

An hour dragged by, then another, as Victoria endured the excruciating labor. Watching her, I recalled James's birth, nine months ago. I hadn't been nearly as strong as this girl.

The sun was high in the sky, radiating a still, breathless heat into the little trailer. Outside the window, I could hear the rise and fall of the Zarate men's voices as they lounged in the shade at the far end of the trailer to await news of the birth. Well, they wouldn't have to wait much longer. Victoria was once again lying down, this time on the sterile sheets Naomi had pulled from her bag.

Victoria gripped my hand, staring wide-eyed and unseeing as she struggled against the pain. Tossing her head, she moaned, “Benjamin—Benjamin . . .”

“Susana, why don't you—”

Suddenly from outside the window, a man's high-pitched Spanish voice rose in an angry tone, drowning out Naomi's words. “ . . . This land is our land, Benjamin! If you want to go on living here, you will pay us for it, or by damn . . .” Something vaguely, hauntingly familiar about the man's voice prickled along my spine. What was it about that voice?

A cacophony of protests and threats interrupted the first man. Several began to talk at once. Startled, Naomi and I stared at each other, then our eyes dropped to Victoria's face.

The girl's agonized gaze lit on the window as she breathed deep with the labor, her eyes dilating as she looked away again. “No, no!” she gasped, rocking her head wildly back and forth. “Jesus, no.”

“Get out there and tell those men to move away from the window!” Naomi snapped to me. “Don't they realize what's going on in here? Tell those estupidos to go argue somewhere else!”

I hurried to the door; Naomi talked soothingly to Victoria.

“ . . . Isn't that right, Ervil?” the first voice I had heard, the high-pitched one, started in again when I reached for the doorknob.

My heart skipped a beat as I swung the door open. Ervil LeBaron's back was to me—that enormous back, covered in a bright silk shirt. His balding head was nodding an agreement. “We can arrange this amicably,” he reasoned smoothly. “I have no desire to evict you people. I'll accept a transfer fee of a hundred fifty dollars per hectarea, if you like. It's a fair price.”

“Ervil's a fair man.” This was the high-pitched voice again, and as I recognized its owner, I gasped and stumbled backward.

My breathing almost stopped; my head reeled. The short, wiry man standing beside Ervil was the same man I had seen with him that night as I crouched behind the butane tank outside of Anna Mae's home in Colonia LeBaron! Gamaliel Rios. The driver of that stolen car had been Gamaliel Rios, a boy I had gone to grade school with. “Maybe you will take care of Verlan, yes?” Ervil had laughingly said to him.

“Oh,” I groaned, suddenly sick to my stomach. It couldn't have been Gamaliel! He wouldn't be stealing for Ervil and discussing such a horrible thing as murder. He had always been a good boy.

“Joel gave these acres to us, you know that. He gave mine to me, and he gave Benjamin's to him.” The man who quietly protested was Fernando Castro. He stood solidly in front of Ervil and Gamaliel, his thin body dressed in patched and faded clothing that perfectly suited his simple, unpretentious bearing.

As I stepped out onto the porch, the huddle of men seemed oblivious to my presence. Behind me I could hear Victoria moaning, and I knew that Naomi needed me. I had to send the men away and get back—but I stood frozen, unable to tear myself free from the drama unfolding before me.

As Ervil shifted his weight, I caught sight of Dan Jordan's smirking face behind him. He seemed content to stay in the background and let Ervil and Gamaliel do the talking. I hadn't seen Dan since my honeymoon three years ago, when Verlan and I had spent our wedding night in his and Sharon's spare bedroom in Chihuahua City.

Why were all these Ervilites here on the Zarates' land? What could they possibly hope to prove by their ridiculous claims against these poor people?

I scanned the faces of the six men at the end of the trailer, quickly noting that Benjamin Jr. hovered protectively at his father's side. The older Benjamin's agitated face was beaded with sweat, his chest beneath his ragged cotton shirt heaving with anger as he faced Ervil. Benjamin Sr.'s attention shifted to the young man on Ervil's left, his old leathery face wrinkled with pain. Andres Zarate returned his father's appraisal, his features cold and mocking.

My blood chilled. How could Andres be a party to Ervil's efforts at taking his own family's meager little acre of land? Oh, the wickedness of it! How could he side against his own flesh and blood?

Ervil ignored the looks that passed between the Zarates. He stared unblinking down at Fernando Castro. “Now come, Fernando, Joel had no business giving this land to you. It wasn't his to give! The land on which Los Molinos sits was mine in the first place. It always has been. But as I said before, we can come to an understanding, one that will prove beneficial for all of us.”

Ervil cleared his throat, squared his huge shoulders, and puffed out his chest. “I want you men to know that I intend to bring about a great economic project here that can help the situation of you poor Lamanites. Look around you, man! This great valley will give us thousands of dollars if we only do a few things here to attract the Gentiles.

“Look over there by that salt flat, old Benjamin. We can build a grand, fancy hotel there with all its conveniences. We will put signs along the highway so the Gentiles will come here and leave their money with us,” a conspiratorial look flashed across Ervil's face. His voice lowered in a confiding tone. Cupping his huge hands, he slowly moved them up and down. “Have you men ever held millions in your hands? Millions of pesos?”

Fernando Castro's eyes briefly shifted to Old Benjamin's disdainful face. Then he shuffled his feet, scratched his head, and grunted.

“Well, if you choose to side with me, you will have millions—but dollars, not pesos!”

Dan Jordan lazily drawled, “We want ten men. Both of you, Fernando and Benjamin, along with young Benjamin, here. Ten men who will not betray us. Find us the others, join our ranks, and we will make you rich.”

Fernando studied Dan's swarthy, insolent face for a moment, then he turned back to Ervil. Somehow his voice remained calm. “We don't need your promises of wealth. What's the matter with you guys, anyway? Have you forgotten that our mission here is not to become rich, but to spread the gospel of Jesus? As for joining your ranks, Joel is our Prophet. You used to believe that too, Ervil. You are the one who converted me to the church, remember? You came on a mission to my home in Mexico City, where you baptized me and swore to me that Joel was a Prophet of God, sent to deliver the world from the hands of Satan. I believe that today with all my heart! We don't need your money. We are already wealthy! We have the priesthood of God, and Joel in our midst.”

“Besides,” Benjamin Jr. spoke for the first time, cutting off any retort by Ervil, “your big plans won't work, because the land is rightfully ours. We are building our own city, which one day we will call the City of Zarahemla, a refuge for the righteous. God is blessing us here. As you can see, this desert is blossoming, just as the promise reads, becoming green and fruitful with the water pumped by the big windmills Joel built.”