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I suppose I should have been ashamed of myself. I was planning to use Luz and Ramon too, if I had to. The two people who were the most friendly toward me. And yet I continued to rationalize as I lay in bed that night, and even afterwards, when I had been in the valley long enough to understand the reasons for the strange undercurrents I had sensed on that first night.
I reminded myself constantly that I was merely a disinterested observer. That the lives and loves and hates of these people here were not my concern. I had only one objective, and that was to regain my cherished independence and freedom. But why did I have to remind myself of this so often? Whether I liked it or not I was here, a virtual prisoner in a secret valley that was ringed by mountains that were all but unscalable. And whether I liked it or not, I was thrown too much into the company of those who lived here to be completely indifferent to the dark, secret emotions that swirled beneath a seemingly normal surface. Because this was no ordinary household, any more than Elena Kordes, who ruled it, was an ordinary woman.
I had sensed her strength from the beginning, and the power she wielded over her sons—even Julio, who always sounded sullen or sarcastic when he addressed her.
Luz was afraid of Elena but I was not. I think we had taken each other’s measure when we had our first conversation. And yet, perhaps for that very reason, Elena seemed to make a point of seeking my company. We talked of books and plays and the opera—even of the latest fashions. Perhaps she meant to impress me with her education and her knowledge of the outside world, for indeed, she was an intelligent and well-informed woman. We talked of my father, and the kind of man he had been, and even, on a few occasions, of Todd Shannon. But here I would always become reticent, and shrug my shoulders, even when she suggested subtly that he had a way with women when it suited him, and was obsessed only with the thought of owning all of the land he considered rightfully his.
“Your father thought otherwise,” she told me once. “He had a sense of justice. Men like Todd Shannon are pirates, taking what they want by any means. My husband had more right to those lands that Shannon now calls his, and yet the law of the Anglo saw only that he was a Spaniard, a member of a conquered race.”
“And I am sure that the Spaniards took this same land from the Indians when they came to New Mexico,” I responded evenly.
“You’re clever with words, and with logic.” I had half-expected her to get angry, but she only raised an arched eyebrow at me. “And still, this same logic must tell you that it is only right that one of my sons should inherit at least part of their father’s inheritance. Your father realized that. And that is why we planned together that you would marry one of my sons.” She smiled when I shrugged. “Surely you possess too much common sense to believe in love? I do not think you could have loved Todd Shannon; you have hardly the look or the manner of a heartbroken woman!”
“As you just pointed out, I am practical. But I cannot say that I like the idea of being forced into a choice of husband.”
Our eyes met, and she smiled again. “But if you have no other practical choice? I have noticed that you spend a lot of time in Ramon’s company. He is in love with you, and you will find him easy to manage, I think.”
“Just as you find all of your sons easy to manage?” I saw her eyes narrow, and I stretched deliberately. “I don’t know—perhaps I need a challenge. Like you, I have had things my way for most of my life. And there’s no hurry, is there?”
“I think you are more like me than I care for you to be,” she said softly, “but as you say, there is no hurry.”
There was no hurry indeed. Ostensibly I was not even a prisoner. I went out riding whenever I pleased, and I had the use of Ramon’s library and Elena’s surprisingly extensive wardrobe. I was a guest, and yet this was almost a polite fiction, for I had soon discovered that in spite of the size of the estancia there were only two servants who lived in the house itself, and they were both old. Fernando was a sullen, crusty old man who was devoted to Elena and followed only her orders. Paquita was going deaf, and even older, with a habit of talking to herself as she moved slowly around the big kitchen. There was a man of about fifty and his wife, who grew vegetables and corn and helped, at the time of the roundup, with the cattle, and not more than about five vaqueros, who had their own quarters.
Luz, I discovered, did most of the dusting and bedmaking within the house itself, as well as helping with the cooking and serving of the only formal meal, which was dinner. Without my quite realizing what was happening, I found myself helping her, in spite of Ramon’s protests.
The men usually ate breakfast before we did, and had their noon meal outdoors. To my relief, the only time I encountered Lucas was at dinner, and since that first night, we hardly spoke two words with each other, until the day that I encountered Julio in the kitchen.
I think it must have been about five days after I had arrived, and during that time he had ridden out with Lucas and the other men very early each morning, not to return until just before sunset. I had heard them talking of cattle that had to be branded, fences that needed mending. It reminded me of the short time when I had been patrona of the SD, when Todd lay wounded in Silver City… and when I thought about Todd I wondered what he thought now. Did he believe me dead? Was he searching for me? And Mark, who had turned out to be my true friend. At such times I felt my hate for Lucas Cord renewed, as well as my determination to leave here as soon as I could contrive it.
On this particular afternoon, however, I had persuaded Luz to take the noon meal out to the men and warned her not to pay too much attention to Lucas, if she saw him.
“The only way you will make him notice you is if he thinks you are becoming indifferent to him,” I warned her. And I had even cajoled Ramon into accompanying her.
“Are you matchmaking?” he teased me. “You seem so cold and so unconcerned with all of us sometimes, and then…”
“I think you should pay some compliments to Luz in your brother’s presence,” I said primly. “For heaven’s sake, it’s high time you all began treating her as if she was a woman, instead of a slave!”
“And so you will slave instead, in the kitchen?” I know that he attributed my attitude to a soft heart instead of a designing mind, and I almost disliked myself for being so calculating. But Ramon, as Elena had already noticed, was well on the way to imagining himself in love with me, and it was not hard to persuade him to do whatever I asked of him.
He rode out with Luz and I found myself alone—a not unpleasant feeling, for I could think best when I was by myself.
Elena kept to the habit of taking a siesta every afternoon, and Paquita slept away most of the day. I did not know where Fernando was, but I guessed that he too was asleep somewhere. I enjoyed the feeling of solitude, while I soaked beans and chopped up meat for dinner. I would surprise Luz by showing her I could cook too, if I had to.
And then Julio found me. I had not heard him come in and I turned around to see him leaning against the wall, watching me with the same closed, inscrutable look I remembered from so long ago, when I had first been brought as a prisoner to the Apache camp.
I suppose that I must have gasped and he gave that strange twist of his lips that would have passed for a smile on any other man.
“Surely I do not make you nervous? I saw Ramon and Luz ride out with food for the others, but since I had already decided to come back to the house for my meal, I hoped that you would not mind preparing it for me.”
“I’m sorry that I did not hear you come in. It won’t take long, the stove’s still li
ghted, and all I need is more wood.”
I had to pass him to go outside for more wood, and he reached out lazily to grasp my arm.
“Julio! I thought you were hungry.”
“Not so much for food as for some talk with you, nidee.”
