Paloma and the Horse Traders (17 page)

She looked into the hall. There he stood,
looking back at her, but leaning heavily on the carved chest from
Spain. The way he stood, hunched over and stooped, reminded her of
a predatory bird. She put her hand to her throat.

“
You gave me quite a start,
Claudio,” she whispered.

“
I heard someone,” he whispered
back. “Thought I saw him. Not a tall man. I think it is that
Comanche.”

“
Toshua,” she said. “I wouldn’t
doubt it.” She crossed the hall and took Claudio by the arm. “We’re
never quite sure how he does it, but he walks these halls at night,
especially if he is uneasy.”

“
You’re not afraid that he will
murder us all?”

“
I used to be,” she said honestly.
“He terrified me. I kept saving his life, though, and he would
never harm me now. Back to bed, Claudio?”

He shook his head. “I dream when I sleep.
Always.”

“
I can give you another sleeping
draught.”

“
No. I’d rather just sit somewhere
and stare at you.”

And I, you
, Paloma thought. Silently,
she draped his good arm over her shoulders and led him into the
sala
. She sat him down on the most comfortable bench, the
one with the mohair blanket and pillow where Marco liked to rest,
if ever he found a free moment. That was a rare event, indeed, with
two little ones always eager to sit on him and demand stories or
songs.

She heard Claudio’s sigh of relief, and knew
she should have just marched him back to bed. But he was still her
big brother, and she would continue to defer to him.

“
There now. Let me show you
something.”

She built a fire first. Soon the soothing
fragrance of
pi
ñ
on
made the weirdness of the
time and circumstances seem almost normal, just another day. She
lifted her old, bloodstained sandals from their nail on the wall,
and took the Vega’s Star in the Meadow brand down, too. She pulled
up a stool to the bench where Claudio lay watching her.

He listened, eyes partly open, as she told him
of her life in Tio Felix’s horrible household, and how Marco
Mondragón, a widower, had arrived, paid a king’s ransom for a
yellow dog to keep his feet warm in bed, and changed her life
forever.

“
The dog kept running back to me. I
had to return that silly yellow dog, don’t you see,” she said, and
laughed softly when he smiled for the first time. “Maybe I was a
little bit in love. Oh, bother it, I was a lot in love!”

That was enough confession to a big brother. He
didn’t need to know how haltingly she had confessed to Father
Eusebio that for the first time in her life she was guilty of lust.
Claudio only had to watch them together for a few days to
understand this greatest gift of her life.

“
So you were going to follow the
juez
to Valle del Sol with that dog?” he asked, after she
told him that portion of her story. “Paloma, I don’t know whether
to laugh or cry.”

He looked as though he wanted to cry, maybe
thinking of all the years she spent defenseless and on her own,
making what sense she could of the bleak hand dealt her.

She thought she saw his sorrow. “Never mind, my
dear brother,” she said. “You would have protected me, if you
could.”

With the strangest amalgam of bitter and sweet,
Paloma felt the years drop away until they were Little Sister and
Big Brother again, sharing a mundane moment, as they had done so
often on the Vega ranch. Rafael had been dear to her heart, too,
but somehow Claudio had always considered her his special
responsibility.

She set aside the sandals and held out the
heavy brand, balancing it between them. Claudio traced the
intricate lines of the star and V, his eyes filled with tears. “How
in the world ….”

She told him of their journey into the heart of
Comanchería to inoculate The People against the ravages of
smallpox, all in exchange for a devil’s bargain from a mysterious
doctor. “Marco found this in a cave where some Comanche raiding
party had left it, probably planning to return later.” She touched
the shaft of the brand. “It’s all that remains of our land and
cattle. I think our uncle disposed of our land, but I have no way
to prove anything. There is nothing left of that life,
dearest.”

“
I suppose not,” he agreed, but he
didn’t sound any more convinced than she felt. When had the great
deception stopped bothering her? Sitting there in the semi-darkness
with a man she had thought never to see again, she only knew that
the cruelty of Indians and her uncle alike did not touch her heart
anymore.

Claudio started in surprise and struggled to
sit up, which made him groan. He stared at the open door as she
gently pushed him back against the softness of mohair. Paloma
turned around to see Toshua.

“
Little sister, are you well?”
Toshua asked.

“
I am,” she said. “Thank you for
watching us. Have you and the guards seen any sign of Great
Owl?”

“
He is gone on his way to trouble
others. I would speak with Marco when he is awake.”

“
I will tell him.”

Toshua stood in silence another moment, then
left as quietly as he had come.

“
He calls you ‘little sister,’ too,”
Claudio said, and he did not sound happy about it. “After what
happened to our parents, our brother, what have you turned into? Do
I
know
you?”

His words might have stung, if spoken years
ago, but not now. Her time of struggle, of learning to cope with
The People so visible in her life now, had vanished like smoke.
What had ruined her childhood had no hold on her womanhood now.
What would Claudio understand?

“
In your travels, have you seen a
flower growing through a crack in a rock?” she said. “There’s no
reason why it should, but it does.”

“
I don’t understand. Each year, the
struggle grows harder.” He took a deep breath. “I looked for you in
every Indian village from here to Luisiana and then I gave up,
because it hurt too much to keep trying. I don’t know how I feel
about anything now.”

“
You will come to understand. I’ve
turned into a wife and mother and friend,” she told him. She
couldn’t help the catch in her throat. “And now a sister again!
What was hard is now soft. We have both walked down dark halls, but
different ones.” She put her hand on him, then leaned forward and
rested her head on his chest. His good arm went around her, after a
hesitation that brought tears to her eyes. He didn’t trust her yet;
she wondered if he ever would.

“
I fear your story has not reached a
happy moment yet, my dear brother,” she whispered. “Stay with us
and I know it will.”

“
Easy to say, Palomita,” he said and
she heard the strain in his voice. “We have both been used hard and
lost so much.”

“
I know. I know. Can we leave it in
God’s hands for a while?”

“
That One who didn’t care what
happened to us?”

Poor man.
Paloma sat up. “Yes, that
One,” she told him. “You can probably say what you want about Him,
and He’ll understand. Try it for a while.” She kissed his bearded,
dirty cheek. “I’ll sit here while you sleep, Claudio.
Claudio?”

She set the heavy brand on the floor, ready to
watch all night, protecting her brother from demons she could not
see.

* * *

Claudio woke in the morning to the sight of
Marco Mondragón slumbering where Paloma had sat last night, his
head forward on his chest. He lounged there at ease in a nightshirt
that had seen better days, his legs hairy and bare. He needed a
shave, but he was a handsome man with a capable look, even in
slumber.

He must have known Claudio was staring at him,
because Marco opened his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but sat
there with an air of morning stupefaction, combined with a curious
confidence that made Claudio smile a little. Marco looked like the
kind of man who might be getting a little soft around the edges
because he had a wife who took care of him—a man who didn’t mind
that a bit.

“
Where did you put my sister?”
Claudio asked. He didn’t mean to sound so sharp. What was going on
in his mind?

“
She’s back in my bed,” Marco
replied. “She needs her rest. Are you comfortable
enough?”

He was, actually. The lingering odors of piñon
had been replaced by kitchen smells far superior to anything
concocted out of doors in the harsh life he was used to, traveling
from settlement to settlement, or tribe to tribe. It struck Claudio
that he hadn’t been inside a house of any substance since the Vega
estancia
near El Paso, his own home.

His shoulder throbbed, but the edge of pain was
gone. He wanted eggs and chorizo and then a long, long soak in a
hot tub: two luxuries that until yesterday seemed so remote as to
belong on Mars. Both were nearly in reach right now, and it warmed
his heart, even as it confused him.

Claudio lay there, arms crossed on his chest,
as a curly-headed boy wearing a much smaller nightshirt peeked into
the
sala
, his eyes wide.

Marco held out his hand. “Claudito, we may have
to call you something else, because this man you see is also
Claudio.”

“
My name?” The little one settled
himself into his father’s lap.

“
Your name. This man is Mama’s
brother.”

The boy turned his face into Marco’s chest,
suddenly shy.

“
Hungry?” Marco asked Claudio. “I
am. Let me help you into the kitchen.” He stood up, his son in his
arms. He gave the child a gentle swat on his hinder parts, set him
down and sent him on sturdy legs down the hall. “Go get in bed with
Mama, but don’t wake her.”

Marco watched him go, and Claudio saw all the
fondness on his brother-in-law’s face. “Used to be Paloma and I
could stay in bed until the sun was up. That was before
children.”

Marco looked down at his own bare legs. “I’ll
help you into the kitchen after I get on some clothes. Sancha has
standards.”

To Claudio’s amusement, the
juez de
campo
, a man of power and influence, scratched himself in a
place that might make Paloma roll her eyes. He slapped the top of
the door frame and ambled down the hall, returning soon enough in
leathers, a cotton shirt, and moccasins. A robe was draped over his
arm.

“
Stand up. I’ll help you into one
sleeve and pull the other over your shoulder.”

“
Will I meet standards?” Claudio
teased. This crazy place where Paloma lived was working some magic
on him.

“
I think so. Sancha has a soft heart
for a hungry man.”

“
I still stink,” Claudio said,
without any embarrassment this time.

“
Not for much longer.”

“
I’ll need some help with my bath.
Do you have a servant who won’t mind?”

“
I’ll help,” Marco said. “I still
owe some penance for being an ass.”

“
Oh, no, I—”

“
Now
you’re
being an ass! Be
careful, or Paloma will wash her hands of both of us.”

Marco said it in such a straightforward way
that Claudio knew he would be foolish to take offence against his
brother-in-law. He let the man help him into the robe, struck to
his heart’s core that in less than twelve hours, he had acquired a
sister, a brother-in-law, and a niece and nephew. He couldn’t help
his sudden sob that seemed to come out of nowhere, leaving him
ashamed of his weakness.
Please, don’t think I am a weak man,
Juez
, he thought.

Marco, all kindness, seemed to know what to do.
“I don’t mean to hurt you,” he said, glossing over Claudio’s sudden
emotion and blaming it on pain instead of anguish of a different
sort. “I’m not much good with hair, either. Paloma usually cuts
mine. Thank you, Sancha.” Marco reached for the cornmeal porridge
with its green chilis that Sancha handed him, and picked up his
spoon. “Just set that in front of Claudio. He can manage. Claudio,
this is Sancha Villareal, my housekeeper. Sancha, Our Father has
blessed Paloma with a brother again. Thanks be to God.”

That was it: no fanfare, no emotion, just a
simple, calm acceptance of his presence that allowed Claudio no
chance to feel strange or set apart like some nine-day wonder. He
could feel the Double Cross opening its generous arms to enfold
him.

Claudio ate slowly, savoring the corn pudding
and chilis, seasoned with a sprinkle of cinnamon and sugar, just
the way Mama used to make it. Without even trying, he could see
Paloma’s fine hand in the kitchen of Marco Mondragón. He looked
around at order and neatness, then back at the man who ate beside
him.

“
I’m tired,” Claudio said simply,
but it was exhaustion of an inward sort, the kind that ground a man
down until he didn’t care anymore.

“
I know,” Marco said just as
quietly. “I’ve had that feeling.”

Claudio finished breakfast in silence,
unwilling to let down his guard, not after years of fear and
overwork, but unable to resist the great kindness of the man beside
him. He made no objection when Marco put his arm carefully around
his waist, pulled him to his feet, and walked him through the
kitchen garden and into a shed where a trough of water waited for
him.
O Dios
, there was even hot water.