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“Roman and I will work out our own problems. When did you turn into such a philosopher?” She squeezed his hand, trying to smile. There were so many upsetting possibilities; she wasn’t going to look back on what might have been.
“Near dying can do that to a man.”
“He hit me, Papa. The night you came home.”
“Francisco? Have you told Roman?”
“Of course not. Roman would mount his horse and hunt him to the end of the earth.”
“He’s probably going to do that anyway.” Papa slid back unto the small pew and drew her back as well. His aged hand was dry and warm. “Your uncle has never been a kind man. I could say worse, of course. He struck your mother once too, before we married. After we married, I forbade him from returning to live at Las Colinas. He saw a new opportunity these past several months. Whether you, me or Roman, he knows his days here are numbered. He knows that whatever he is involved in will come crashing down and he will lash out at those of us nearby. I trust your husband’s judgment in this matter.
“Now, what are you going to do about Roman’s grand gesture?” he said.
* * * * *
Dewey had arrived two days later with seven extra rifles and two vaqueros. He’d also purchased three barrels of gun powder, five hardy Galician horses and a wagon of supplies full of those things that one took for granted but could come in handy during a drought, a battle, a crop failure or a month-long fishing expedition.
“Have the servants pack everything away. Good planning, Dewey. Are there no other possibilities for more hands with guns?”
“There might be. I made inquiries in Cadiz and along the way home. A few more could arrive in the next few days. The Spanish army and the opposition have purchased nearly everything of value. And what they haven’t purchased is either poorly made or overpriced.”
“Well, we can use what we have. You and Rousseau need to go to Las Colinas and inventory what they have as well. I want to make sure Belgrano can’t get his hands on our supplies.” They walked outside. Roman glanced toward Las Colinas, visible in the clear morning air on the other side of the valley. He would see Antonio shortly. Shelene had agreed to ride with him. And he would present the beautiful Arabians to her.
“What do you think Belgrano’s plans are?” Rosseau asked.
“I can only guess, but knowing Belgrano, I think I’m close. Without Hightower or me to control life at Las Colinas, he meant to use his influence to obtain command of the estate. But I don’t think that is his main objective. I think he is part of the group who want to overthrow the King of Spain,” Roman said.
“The time is right. The king is weak, the people unhappy.”
“Set the newvaquerosto a specific task. I want to know where every trail in the valley leads. Give them an outline of both estates and have them identify the trails on a map. But make sure their heads aren’t just down, they need to see what is happening too,” Roman said.
“What about Belgrano himself?”
“He’ll be back. If you or Rousseau thinks of anything else, let me know.”
“What about Brahim and his family?”
“I’m riding with Shelene later this morning. I’ll talk to him then.”
“Ah, going to ride those fine new horses of yours?”
“They’re well-rested now. And they aren’t mine. They are a gift for my wife.”
Dewey laughed. “They are yours, with strings attached.”
“Hmm,” Roman said, then mounted one of the horses, saddling creaky beneath his weight. “Treat everything suspiciously, Dewey. I don’t trust Belgrano with anything that is important to me.”
He clucked his tongue and turned his horse toward the estate.
He’d visited the hacienda each morning to see Antonio, but Shelene had stayed away. Working on a stained-glass window, they had said. He didn’t doubt it. She had always been creative and dedicated to improving her craft. But it was also a convenient reason to keep her distance. She was determined to keep her word. He’d give her all the time she needed to punish him, and he would enjoy every moment of rebuilding her trust and returning to their marriage agreement.
But, just in case she was in a forgiving mood upon receiving such a beautiful gift, he’d packed a bottle of wine, two glasses, a blanket and enough food to sustain them through the afternoon. When he saw there was enough room in his pannier, he packed more wine.
Once at Las Colinas, he dismounted and entered the house. He was always amazed at the efficiency of the estate. Numerous servants hustled about cleaning, caring for Antonio, preparing large quantities of food for day-to-day meals and preservation for long-term survival.
Prosperity for all attached to the estate. Roman would never understand it—Belgrano had grown up in this environ, yet he was a selfish, hateful bastard.
Roman stood near the fountain waiting for Shelene to come down. When he heard her crisp footsteps along the balcony, he glanced up to see the sixteen-year-old girl he had fallen in love with.
