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Amazingly, she cl
apped her hands together, the ruby ring sparkling in the lamplight. “I am almost sorry that you were not my daughter, now! I think you understand how much stronger than men a woman can be. I wondered, when I saw you in the Apache dress. Guy’s daughter, I thought. Is she as meek as she looks? Will she be like Luz? And you are not. Luz is frightened of me. I think you have a mind of your own. There is a challenge here—for both of us. Will you marry one of my sons to please your dead father? Will you continue to be stubborn? In any case, I think your coming here will save me from boredom.” She smiled, opening the armoire to reveal rows of dresses. “I think you will feel more comfortable in one of my gowns. We are almost of the same height and build, I believe. Will you choose?”
At least I was on familiar ground again. I smiled at her, and moved forward to study the variety of clothing she had offered me.
“You are very kind. And I do have a mind of my own, as well as being practical. Are you sure you will not mind my wearing one of these dresses?”
She laughed delightedly. “And why should I? No, I want you to look beautiful for my sons. And for me too, perhaps. For I think we will arrive at an understanding of each other in the end. It has been a long time since I’ve felt challenged.”
“Or I…” I said softly, and we smiled at each other.
When we went down to dinner, we were almost allies. Beneath the surface we both knew the reasons for my being here, and my resentment of the fact. And yet, in some strange way, I think Elena enjoyed the thought that my presence might act as a catalyst. She helped me choose a gown of rich blue silk. Impatiently, seating me before her mirror, she helped me pin up my hair, so that it fell from a coiled knot at the back of my head to thick curls around my neck and shoulders.
“You have hair as black and as thick as mine… how is it that you did not take after your mother? She was an English blonde, Guy told me. You were not sorry to leave her?”
“My mother was not sorry to see me leave,” I said shortly. “We had nothing in common.”
“It’s strange. I think that you and I have much in common after all,” Elena said, and laughed softly.
I said bluntly, “I can’t imagine why you would want me to marry your son. Would you do the same thing in my place?”
“Perhaps, if I had no other choice! Your father wished it, you know. And I have three sons. You may choose.”
“And if I want none of them?” I had to ask it, but she only shook her head at me.
“I think, if you are sensible, and practical, as you say you are, you will choose one of them. It is the only way you will leave this valley. You see, I am not only practical, but determined as well. And after all, it is not such a hard choice, is it? My sons are young men. Todd Shannon is old—too old for you, I think. But we can talk about it later.”
I recognized a certain note of implacability in her voice and shrugged my shoulders. We would talk. I was sure of it. And in the meantime, I felt sure that the meal we were about to partake of would prove an interesting experience.
The great, polished table could have held at least thirty guests without crowding them, and yet there were only six places laid.
I saw Ramon Kordes again, and answered his awkward bow with a slight inclination of my head. Luz was an attractive dark-haired girl of about nineteen, wearing the full, brightly colored skirt and low-cut blouse of a Mexican woman, her loosely flowing hair falling below her waist. Her pretty face looked rather sullen, and from the glances she threw in my direction I did not think she liked my being here. Her attention seemed to be centered on Lucas, who treated her with a casual indifference that set my teeth on edge. I noted that he had not bothered to change clothes, although he had shaved off his half-grown beard. And even Julio had made some effort to observe the niceties, although it was clear he felt uncomfortable seated at a table.
In spite of the formality of the place settings and the room we dined in, with its low-beamed ceiling and dark, Spanish furniture, I learned that we would have to serve ourselves. The food was of the highly spiced variety that Marta excelled in cooking; and the old woman who brought it in and left the covered dishes at one end of the table looked to be at least seventy years old.
It was Ramon, surprisingly enough, who began the argument after I had come down with his mother, and we had seated ourselves.
I had noticed that Luz jumped to her feet and began to pass the steaming dishes of food around, beginning with the men. It reminded me of the Apache ranchería, where the women always waited until the men had eaten first; and almost automatically, I started to help her.
Julio took my impulsive movement for granted. Lucas raised one eyebrow and looked towards his younger brother.
“You see how well-trained she is already? She has even learned how to cook; isn’t that right, Julio?”
Ramon pushed back his chair with a crash that surprised us all, even I, with a retort on the tip of my tongue.
“Even for you, this is going too far!” He looked angrily at Lucas. “Have you forgotten the debt you owe to Rowena’s father? She is a gently brought up lady, and not just another captive you’ve picked up on your travels! You have no right…”
“Little brother, I have every right to do as I please, an’ you better start remembering that. Bought her for a perfectly good Henry rifle an’ several rounds of ammunition, didn’t I, Rowena? An’ if I hadn’t, she’d be in some crib in Mexico by now, or dead. Better be grateful I brought her here instead, brother, or I might just change my mind an’ enter the goddamn sweepstakes myself!”
“If I am supposed to be the prize in the sweepstakes you talk about, you’d better forget it, Lucas Cord! You are the last man on earth I’d consider!”
“Rather have Shannon, wouldn’t you? But as far as he’s concerned you’re dead—or worse. So you’d better start looking around for a substitute. Might do better with a younger man, even if he ain’t half owner of the almighty SD!”
I heard my own sucked-in breath of rage in the silence that followed.
“Man, you say? Are we talking about men? Being hardly one yourself, how would you know? Taking a woman by force is more your style, isn’t it?”
“You sorry that I didn’t take you by force? Maybe that’s what’s turned you into a damned shrew.”
