“I suppose you didn’t think to wash your hands before stumbling in here?” Arturo said, glancing dismissively at him. Valentín wore no gloves and he had dirt under his nails. Then again, so did her brother. Arturo’s scrupulously clean, neatly pressed suit and his fine gloves were wildly out of place in the shop, even if she liked the look of them.
“Don’t torture him, Uncle,” she said, smiling, and quickly stepped forward. “But you were looking for me?”
“Of course! It’s market day. My mother said I needed to find you and give you a whole cargo ofpastesshe made,” Valentín said, patting a basket that dangled from his arm. “If I may, I’d also like to talk to your brother. One of the horses has thumps and I’ve been scratching my head trying to figure out what to do with it.”
Her brother was an expert horseman who could ride the wildest of stallions and understood their every illness. If there was someone to consult about such matters, it was Tadeo.
“Let’s go find him,” she said.
As they walked out of the pharmacy and stood under an arch, they spotted Tadeo. He was having an animated conversationwith a woman who wore a dark red skirt and a white blouse. She was easily recognizable by the rebozo with the bright red stripe running down its length. It was one of the women of Los Pinos, a hamlet people said was inhabited by witches. There, someone could pay to hex a neighbor they disliked, or have a hot stone rubbed against their belly to cure ailments. The red stripe was like abadge, a marker that proudly identified the magic practitioners.
Tadeo brushed the woman aside and she grabbed him, pulling him back. He looked distraught and tried to peel her fingers off his arm. The woman suddenly looked in their direction. She stared at them, then her eyes narrowed. She spat on the ground and released Tadeo, hurrying off.
Tadeo rubbed his arm and walked toward them.
“What happened?” Alba asked.
“She was trying to sell me something,” he said, grimacing. But then he smiled when he saw Valentín. “What are you doing? Do you have more flowers for my sister today?”
“No, I havepastesand a favor to ask about a horse.”
“We ought to head home. You should have supper with us, you can tell me about your horse while we eat. It’s been ages since you’ve come for a proper supper. It’s so much better when you come alone than with Mr. Molina.”
“Are you still angry at him because of the offer he made you the other day? Don’t hold grudges, Tadeo. Mr. Molina didn’t mean to insult you.”
“Forget about Mr. Molina,” Tadeo said, and threw an arm around Valentín’s shoulder as they walked side by side.
Valentín took the reins of the wagon; Tadeo rode next to them on Valentín’s horse. He chattered and laughed, talking about the farm, while her uncle held up his head and pressed his lips together.
At the dinner table Tadeo’s mirth continued unabated. The children were also in high spirits and behaved glowingly after her brother promised everyone could have a sweet once supper concluded. Valentín joked with the twins and bounced Moisés on his knee. The boy giggled in delight. After the plates were cleared, thelittle ones ran back upstairs to eat their treats and the rest of them headed into the sitting room.
“I want you to thank your mother for thepastes,” Luisa said. “It was very nice of her to send such a bounty.”
“Yes, it wa—” Tadeo rubbed his arm and winced, growing quiet. His mother looked at him with concern.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“It’s that woman, she scratched my arm and it still aches,” Tadeo said.
“What woman?”
“A woman at the market. From Los Pinos, I’m pretty sure. She talked about evil spirits and said she saw a shadow. She spooked me, I must admit, and then she held on so tight I did not know how I’d get her off me.”
“Perpetua didn’t mean any harm, I’m sure she was trying to sell you a charm against the evil eye,” Valentín said. “It’s what she does.”
Arturo, who sat lazily on the couch with a glass of sherry in his hand, straightened up. “You know her?”
“She’s sold us remedies. Bracelets with colored beads to drive off bad spirits. The people at Los Pinos are good at making those.”
“Of course you’d know her, the countryside is full of superstitious fools,” her uncle said, slouching a little, his face somber.
“It’s not foolishness. I once saw a man whose soul had been trapped in a bottle. It took two healers to break that spell. Everyone respects the witches of Los Pinos, for good reason. Why, the tales I could tell you, sir! When someone is intent on evil, what they do is get a hold of a bit of hair, or a personal object, and then—”
Arturo stood up quickly, almost spilling his drink in the process. He clenched his free hand tight.
“This is why the countryside is such a cesspool. You have half the people believing in curses and curanderas as if we were still in the Middle Ages. They’re a mob of stupid, superstitious idiots no smarter than a cow.”
“Don’t be rude, Arturo,” Luisa chided him. “My husband hadhis superstitions, too. In fact, I remember you listening with delight to his stories of spirits and witches and monsters when you were a child, especially the bloodiest ones. And I remember that we caught you going to Los Pinos with that Desoto boy on a couple of occasions, where you bought a talisman or a trinket.”
