Gold Raven (11 page)

“
Dios m
io – Miguel…why must you be so rough, it hurts when you get like this.” She whispered heatedly now that he was calming down. “And on the table Miguel…where we eat?!” She fussed.

He looked at her and grinned. “Ohhh,
that
was good…emmm.” He stood away letting her legs fall as she sat up. “Hurry…cover yourself.” She whispered hopping to the floor pulling her gown down. He was still grinning and pulled her into his arms, kissing her as she fought with her own laughter. “You are terrible!” She complained, now grinning as well.

“
And you love me…just as I am. Say it! Say that you love me!” He ordered.

“
Oh yes…yes I do. I do…I love you more than life itself.”

“
Then don’t complain when I need you.”

“
But the children…” She reminded him. “…what if they woke, what if they caught us, what if they saw?!” She feared. He chuckled. “They’ll just sneak and watch, and then go back to bed when it’s over.” He answered simply. Maria gasped, as he went back to his chair sitting down after he had concealed himself.

“
How can you say such a thing, that’s terrible!”

“
No…that is life. You are my wife; I am your husband and their father. Kids always know when their parents are at it.” He said matter of factly. Maria sat on his lap looking at him. Hesitantly she asked, “Did you…ever see them?”

“
Yeah…I did. He was always messing with her, touching her, making love to her in the dark of the night when they thought I was sleeping. I pretended to be, but – they’d wake me up. I was curious; I’d sneak out of bed, peak at them as they made love.” Maria gasped covering her mouth in shock. Then she watched a play of emotion cross her husbands face.

“
Did he love her?”

“
He said he did.”

“
Do you believe it?”

“
I don’t want to talk about him. It doesn’t matter now.”

“
What about your sister? How do you think she came to be separated from your mother?”

“
I have an idea but I can’t be sure. I plan to find out what happened in the morning, when she wakes and we can talk. I can’t wait for you to meet her, to see her… she looks just like our mother, just a lighter version of her, because of him.”

“
You said, like our Celina, I cannot wait to meet her either.” Maria sighed, wondering how long her husband would continue to resent his own father…Maynard Ramsey Webster.

Early the next morning, the crowing of the cockerel brought the encampment awake. It was the start of noisy activities from the more productive occupants. Children ran laughing and playing, some dirty and naked – but happy. The family responsible women, were up and cleaning, while others busied themselves with making fresh bread and tortillas, rolling them out and flipping them in preparation of the morning meal. Those up late at night; rose late, chasing away noisy bothersome kids who disturbed their slumber. Across the camp, where more dwellings sat, women there too worked shaking out blankets and rugs from their small abodes. Most of the men spent their time sleeping in, loafing about as some slept outside, wondering lazily why dogs licked at their faces, or chickens pecked away in their hair.

Among the men, a few could not be content unless they had someone to pester, such as Hector. Who thrilled at aggravating the women, pushing them often to the point of him being chased with a broom as they cursed him in thick Spanish. His laughter could be heard as he ran through the camp; snatching hot tortillas as he went, burning his fingers as he tossed them back and forth on the run… inciting more attacks. Yet, there were men who were in constructive labor, realizing the importance of keeping up the heads of cattle, one bull and horses they’d stolen. They kept their numbers under control since only so many were willing to help with the upkeep of the animals needed for food. They were also fortunate enough to have on hand a few pigs that often escaped their pen, willing to eat anything that hit the ground.

It was common to see them in hot pursuit of the chickens, who had the few dogs to contend with, their barking and yelping helped t
o mix in with the camp noises. They would beg at doors for scraps, only to have to fight the pigs over them.

The camp itself was a long rectangle. One end held the blacksmith’s area and behind it two corrals; one for the horses, cattle and two donkeys. The other corral contained their bull. Both had a water trough in front beside a small stable filled with hay and oats for feed. To its left was the beginning of row huts, consisting of pairs of joined dwellings, each with a front and back room. Each side ran the length of the camp with up to nine pairs on each row, adding up to 18 dwellings plus the outbuildings. To the right of the corral stalls, was an open space where a very pampered garden was cared for, growing there were a variety of herbs, peppers and other vegetables.

Beside it was a dual dwelling used as a grain store in one side, and a smoke house in the other. The next dual building stored all of the weaponry and other collected booty. At the opposite end of the camp, on the left side, were the huge, heavy log constructed double gates. Opened only for the residents. Fifty feet from them within the camp sat the mission church. Many of the women kept it clean and lit with candles; kicking up quite the fuss should anyone dare disrespect or blaspheme within its boundaries. Across from the church, sat a large stone table with stone benches on either side, and further still – a huge cook pit.

On a fenced in plot further back and out of sight, was the camp’s small graveyard with rough made crosses serving as grave markers. The water well could be found centrally located within the camp, deep and amply fed from a spring, it provided cool, clean water - crucial to all the occupants. With the added bonus of the plush greenery growing in wild and splendid profusion everywhere one looked, it appeared that they were cosseted in their own little paradise. All was contained within four stone built walls, standing 12 feet high. Each abode sat against it with the boundary wall serving as their back wall.

When the bandits took over the fortress, they connected the roof tops of each dwelling with a walk–way used to guard against unexpected and unwelcome visitors. Ladders strategically placed on both sides, and at each end, used by those whose responsibility it was as a watch out.

The old missionary convent sat close to the border of Louisiana, and Texas, ,serving as the perfect hideout for the bandit leader, Miguel, who, was now up and collecting his sister – while all looked on, having heard through the grapevine of her arrival and true identity.

“
Caramba
! But, how Miguel!? I did not know you even have a young sister?”

Juan asked
, following Mike from his dwelling with Hope in front of him. He had been up all night with that on his mind, his disappointment obvious. He walked alongside Mike while others in the camp looked on as he escorted his younger sister to his family’s dwelling.

“
It would be impossible for you to know Juan, when I have spoken to no one of her but my wife.” Mike replied, as he observed his sister’s reaction to her new home.

Giving it some thought, a smile came to Juan’s face. “Then Juan has done good! For it is because of me, that she is here! Is this not so Jefé?” Juan pointed out with his chest puffed up like a proud rooster.

“
Certainly it is so.” Mike agreed. “No better gift can I think of my friend than your decision to bring her to me.” He grinned in good humor as he led Hope through those wishing to get a closer look and to greet her. Hope stood observing the smiling people around her, some standing at a distance just watching – satisfied to see what she looked like, once done, they went back to their chores or sleep.

Juanita, Camille, Teresa, Jona and Theosadora were a few of the names offered in greeting that Hope tried to remember. “We are happy to have you with us Senorita.” Theosadora spoke first, “If you should ever need for anything, just come to me and I will gladly assist you.” All agreed with eager affirmations. “Anything.” Jona, a thirty – something curvaceous Indian woman added. “If ever I can assist-…”

“
Ha!” Juanita a plump Mexican woman with curly hair ,and subtly attractive, cut in. “What you could show her, I doubt Senor Miguel will appreciate! It does not take much to learn the arts of laying on ones back! Your thighs spread for any who will dive in!”

The other women laughed, as Hope in her naiveté found her eyes widened with the image in her mind, trying to visualize such an act. Jona however threw her hands to her hips and countered, “You puta! You are green because all you can get to dive between your legs is that dried up old man you call a husband! With his dried up old pecker.”

“
Puta
?! You call me the
puta
!? You are the
puta
in this camp! I would rather, one dried up old man, to ten drunken bandits!”

“
When they cannot satisfy you…you turn to the horny dogs for your pleasure!” She spat, gearing up for a fight. Hope by now stepped back as the two women began cutting each other with cheap insults, their voices raised – drawing a crowd of men, eager to see a cat fight, while laughing at their jibes.

Mike, having been momentarily distracted at the beginning of the cross delivery of the two, did not realize what was being said until their voices rose, he then turned giving them his attention.

Angry at the display before his sister. “Silencio!” He barked enraged at the bickering between them. In harsh angry Spanish he spoke to them, warning them. “You – will – not! Stand before my sister, spouting lowly gutter talk! You will speak around her as ladies do – or you will not speak around her at all!! Have I made myself clear?!” He finished visibly irate. The men standing near quieted their laughter, some withdrawing from the scene. Both women held their tongues, hanging their heads in shame. He turned to Hope, “Example given – the behavior and conduct - of whores!”

Hopes eyes widened, as Juanita sucked in, hurt from him labeling her in such a way. Mike was as fiercely protective of her innocence as he was of that of his own daughters. He did not care whom he offended. “This is why you will stay away from them, keeping company with my wife and children only.” He informed her, grabbing her arm and pulling her away to meet his family. When Hope first laid eyes on Maria, a small group of children surrounded her, lined up in ever-increasing height, like steps up in age. The woman, who looked up at her, was young, dark and breathtaking. Although nervous, Hope felt comforted by her welcoming expression. She was neatly dressed, as would be a lady, her hair up in a neat bun at the base of her head; her skin, a very smooth, dusky olive without the tiniest flaw; a small straight nose and full plump lips, she knew without a doubt why her brother chose her as his wife. Hope swallowed, a bit shaky and stopped before her, she was taller than Maria by a few inches. Her brother’s wife stood a little over five feet – while Hope stood on the tall side of five-eight.

“
Maria, this is Hope; Hope, my wife Maria, and my children.” Mike introduced them. “
Buenos Dias
– Senorita Webster, it is so very nice to meet you.” Maria greeted, her Spanish accent rolling off her tongue with a low husky voice filled with eloquence. Hope smiled, feeling shy and out of place, and to be called, “Senorita Webster” stunned her. She knew that it was true, that she was a Webster, but hearing it seemed foreign to her ears, making her feel as if she had spoken to someone else.

“
Thank you…Maria. It is very nice to meet you as well. You must excuse me, this all, seems…so strange.” She smiled again, feeling her face flame with embarrassment. Maria took pity on her, understanding very well what she must be feeling. “It’s okay, we understand. But know this, you are with family now. And as a family should, we will stick together.” Maria chuckled looking up at her husband. “Your brother may not show it…but he is very happy to have you here with us.”

Mike shook his head grumbling, making faces at his wife, feeling uncomfortable with talk about him that came anywhere close to showing his emotions.

He turned Hope's attention to his impatient children standing by. Introducing his first born son, Esteban; whose complexion was a deep smooth brown, darker than she would have expected for her brother’s son to be. She stared at him a moment, trying to see the similarities.

As soon as she looked closer they became abundantly clear. What she realized after a bit of inspection was that Esteban had two noticable aspects of his father’s looks; his features were entirely her brother, and his blue/green eyes, that were a contradiction and contrast to his dark skin. Yet, his coloring was too dark to be from Maria, outside of his jet blue/black hair, heavily waved and curly at the ends, like her own. Then she considered that his coloring very well could be from her own family…her mother, Lena. This she imagined to be true, unaware of Jessie, his biological mother.

Hope had not seen her mother Lena, for many years, but she remembered with an absolute certainty. Her mother was of brown skin, very close to the coloring of Esteban, and no doubt – that must be why he looked as he did. As she stood taking in the looks of her nephew, he stared her straight in the eyes. For long moments, their attention held. Hope could already see, that he was mature beyond his 11 years, she saw something about him in just those very few minutes that told her he would be a formidable man one day; and handsome to the extent that his life would be rife with hell and women.

“
He’s mine!” Mike blurted defensively. Hope looked up at him with her eyebrows bunched confused. “What?” She asked, uncertain of why he made such a bold declaration. “You were wondering if he’s mine!” He informed her, feeling protective of his son, even against his newly arrived sister.

“
I can see – that he is yours!” She slowly enunciated as if speaking to a halfwit.

“
Then why were you staring!”

“
Because he is a part of me; because he is a match for you, save your coloring and I could not help but admire what my eyes see. Because he is so handsome – although young, I could only wonder at the man he will someday be!”

“
Miguel! Why must you always be so quick to judge people! She is your sister!”

“
He is my son! I will have no one offending him, family or not!”

“
I was not offended Jefé.” Esteban informed his father, calling him as his men did. Mike let him, because he looked at his son as more of a man in the making, than a little boy to be corrected over what he called him. For Mike, there was no question to his son’s loyalty and respect of him.