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3
SILVERVEIL, NEWMEXICOTERRITORY
Silver Veil, New Mexico, was nestled in the San Mateo Mountains. The first time her father had seen it was when an old Mexican miner had taken him there to talk about silver. Neither Isabella nor her mother had gone on that trip, but when her father returned to California, he was full of stories about the dry air, the haunting beauty of the desolate landscape, and the possibility of wealth beyond their wildest dreams.
Isabella had never known her father to be overly concerned with making money. After all, the Garcia family had old money that went clear back to Spain. There was never any reason to worry about the family’s ability to live a life of plenty, and for that, Isabella had always been thankful. It was perhaps the only reason her family didn’t suffer as much humiliation and ostracism as one could expect for a people of darker skin. Her father was sometimes snubbed by white men who knew nothing about his holdings, but once they learned who he was, men of every color offered respect. It was absurd what hypocrites people could be.
Complicating their life even more was the fact that herfather had married a white woman whose parents were completely unaccepting of the situation. Growing up, Isabella had often asked about her maternal grandparents, only to be told they were unwilling to be a part of the family. How did one just erase a person or persons from existence? Even in her desire to live elsewhere, Isabella had maintained a relationship with her parents, tenuous though it may be. While it was true she had seldom written to her mother and father, she had always cared about them. She loved them, however mixed up that emotion might be with resentment and disdain.
Her parents were waiting at the train station just as Isabella had known they’d be. They both looked older—tired and maybe even thinner. Hadn’t Aaron Bailey mentioned something about her father being ill? She’d have to ask later.
She stepped from the private railcar and marveled at the way her parents’ faces transformed at the sight of her. They were clearly delighted to have her home, and why not? She was their only child. Isabella had to admit she was happy to see them as well. It had been far too long.
“Mama. Papi.” She embraced them, and they wrapped her in their arms. The day was quite chilly, and their embrace felt good. Isabella clung to them a little longer than she might otherwise have done. For warmth, she told herself.
“It’s so wonderful to have you here,” her mother said. There were tears in her eyes as she pulled away. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“As have I,” her father declared. He stepped back and looked at Aaron Bailey. “Thank you for bringing her home safely.”
“My pleasure,” Aaron replied, casting a momentary glance her way. They both knew it had been anything but.
They climbed into her father’s carriage and made theirway up the mountainside to where the Garcia house sat like a beacon over the town. The orange adobe had faded to a washed-out coral color, but it was still a stunning house.
“Did you notice how the town has grown?” her mother asked. “It’s twice, perhaps three times as big as when you left.”
Isabella nodded. “It did seem much larger.”
“We have three churches and two doctors. Your father arranged for them to share a small hospital for the sick and injured. They have beds for ten people.”
“I’m sure that offers much relief to the townsfolk.”
Her mother smiled. “It does. It’s a wonderful comfort to know that you have help for such a crisis. Last year there was a collapse in one of the tunnels, and four men were injured. They all lived, but I’m convinced if we’d not had the hospital and our dear doctors, they would have perished.”
Isabella looked at the passing scenery. The road was much easier to travel than she remembered. No doubt her father had arranged for that as well.
“Our church has a wonderful ladies’ group. We do charitable works, and I can hardly wait to introduce you to the women there. Some you will remember. This month we’re making blankets for the poor. You can help us.”
“I know nothing about making blankets,” Isabella replied, shaking her head. “I’m sure it would be best if I did not lend my hand.”
“You will learn,” her mother replied. “It’s quite easy.”
They reached the house, and Isabella had a moment of genuine nostalgia. The desert landscaping was beautiful and carefully tended. Of course, it was December, and snow was always a possibility, but it was lovely all the same.
“Your things will be along shortly, I’m sure,” her father said, handing the lines to one of his servants. He liked todrive his own carriage but was more than happy to turn it over to someone else to put away. “Aaron was very kind to offer to bring them. I trust he was a good companion on your trip east.”
“I was hardly in need of a traveling companion. I had Lupe.” Isabella nodded to her maid.
“Yes, but there are always possible dangers for a beautiful young woman traveling alone. I wanted to give myself peace of mind regarding your safety. You wouldn’t fault me for that, would you?”
Isabella didn’t wish to start fighting. Not when she intended to announce her plans to marry Diego Morales at dinner that evening. “No, Papi. I will not fault you.”
“I’m sure you’ll want to rest before dinner,” her mother said as they moved toward the cobblestone walk. “I have your room ready for you. There are fresh towels and a basin of water if you wish to wash your face.”
“I long for a bath. The facilities on the train, even in a private car, were less than satisfactory.”
“I’ll have the maid draw a bath for you,” her mother replied.
They stepped into the house, and Isabella smiled at the scents. They instantly brought back memories. There was something about the aromas here that wasn’t present in her California home. Mesquite wood burned in the fireplace, for one. Aunt Josephina preferred eucalyptus for her fires. Where mesquite was a warm, earthy scent, eucalyptus was lighter and almost minty.
