Paloma and the Horse Traders (5 page)

“
Very well. For now, though, we
women will stay indoors and out of your way.” She took his hand. “I
know you will do everything in your power to keep us
safe.”

“
On my honor and by all the saints
who have ever heard of this colony, I swear to you that we
will.”

“
Since you will all be watching from
the parapets, we will bring you food,” Paloma assured
him.

“
All anyone wants is something to
do,” she told Eckapeta when they reached the kitchen. “Even Soledad
here.” She knelt by her daughter, who clutched her skirts, fearful.
“My dearest, I have a pile of napkins. Will you fold them if I show
you how?”

Soli nodded. Paloma sat her on the bench at the
table and folded one napkin into a square and then folded it again.
She repeated her actions, then Soli put her hand on Paloma’s arm,
stopping her. As Paloma watched, her daughter folded the next
napkin. The corners didn’t match exactly, but she handed it to her
mother, the fear gone from her eyes because she was
busy.

“
Exactly right,” Paloma said, and
kissed her cheek. “Finish these for me, and Sancha might have a
treat for you.”

She left her daughter with the stack of napkins
and carried Claudio to the room he shared with his sister. After a
dry diaper followed by a long cuddle, she put him into his crib,
where he snuggled and then slept.

Sancha took food to the men on the parapet, and
Perla bullied Paloma into eating a big bowl of
posole
she
didn’t really want, not with her queasy stomach. Paloma ate as she
was bid, not certain if her nerves or the new baby were to blame.
Eckapeta shook her head at the offer of food, which made Paloma
smile to herself, because Perla didn’t bully the Comanche
woman.

“
Who is Great Owl?” Paloma asked
after she swiped the last scrap of tortilla around the bowl—maybe
she’d been hungry, after all.

“
He is a troublesome warrior, never
content to be under Kwihnai’s eye, no matter how light the
control,” Eckapeta said. She leaned closer. “It is said that he and
his warriors even killed some Kiowa, our close brothers on the
plains. This is not done.”

“
You … you recognized
him?”

“
Yes. He wears the headdress of a
great horned owl. His horse wears a similar face mask. I am not
certain which is more frightening.”

Such an admission from the bravest woman she
knew sent a chill down Paloma’s arms. She sighed, wishing Marco
would materialize suddenly. “Would that we knew what was going on
in Santa Maria.”

“
I have noticed that trouble has a
way of making itself known. Be patient.”

As sundown grew near, two riders carrying
Spanish lances approached from the direction of Santa Maria. Emilio
brought the news himself, as he ushered the soldiers into the
kitchen. Perla wordlessly pushed food toward them before they even
delivered their message.

Eyes on the bowls of steaming
posole
,
the corporal wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He gave
Eckapeta a wary look, then turned his attention to
Paloma.

“
Señora Mondragón, where is your
husband? We have an urgent matter.”

“
He should be arriving in Taos
today. He went to the great fair.”

“
Dios!
We need him here,” the
corporal continued, evidently also thinking that the
juez de
campo
would appear if summoned.

“
Tell me what has happened in Santa
Maria,” Paloma ordered. “My friend and I saw something while we
were at the river today.” She gestured to the table. “Try the
tortillas.”

The corporal and private needed no more
encouragement. The corporal ate quickly, then put down his spoon.
“Some horse traders on their way to Taos were set upon by
Comanches.” He glanced at Eckapeta warily, as a child might observe
a strange dog. “The … the Comanches killed one of the traders
and got away with a few horses, but the private here wounded one of
them.”

S
uch initiative would astonish Marco
,
Paloma thought, looking at the younger man with some respect. “You
captured him?” she asked the private.

He glanced at the corporal, as though seeking
approval to speak. “Yes, señora. I brought him back to the
garrison, where he is now imprisoned.”

“
The others?”

“
They could be anywhere, and that is
a worry,” the corporal said. He turned his attention to Paloma. “We
need someone to interrogate the Comanche and thought maybe,” he
lowered his voice, “this woman might help.”

“
What about the horse traders?”
Paloma asked. “Surely someone among them speaks
Nurmurnah.”

“
They don’t want to waste a minute
on their journey to Taos, and Comanches can be stubborn.” He
hesitated, then shrugged. “Our sergeant is uncertain.”

Those are two understatements of the
century
, Paloma thought. She looked at Eckapeta, noting well
the woman’s sour expression. “What do you think, my sister?” She
spoke the Spanish word for sister, not wanting the soldiers to
doubt for a moment her tie to Eckapeta, if they thought they might
try coercion to get her to translate. “Should we help the garrison
in Santa Maria? It is your decision.”

“
See here now, we need her!” the
corporal burst out. “She must cooperate.”

Everyone in the room looked at the corporal,
even the private. He had half-risen from the bench, but he sat down
again. He frowned and looked down at the food in his bowl,
mumbling, “That is, if she will help us.”

Eckapeta looked at Paloma. “
Nami
, I will
do as you wish, if you will accompany me. I won’t ride alone with
these two fools.”

The two fools made no comment.

“
Very well,” Paloma said, after she
stuffed her fear into a cupboard and closed the latch. “Emilio,
please find us two fresh mounts. Fast ones.”

Eckapeta followed the
mayor domo
out the
kitchen door. Paloma went to her room and changed into the riding
habit her husband had commissioned for her from Aldonza Rivera,
Santa Maria’s dressmaker since Señora Saltero had been carried off
by smallpox two years ago. She glanced in the mirror, and a worried
woman stared back.

She looked in on Claudio, who slept soundly.
Soledad glanced up from her toys in the
sala
and her lip
trembled when she saw her mama dressed for riding. “I know that
Sancha has more napkins for you to fold,” Paloma said, picking up
her daughter. “I will be back before you miss me.”

Soledad threw her arms around Paloma’s neck,
proving the comment false. Paloma kissed her and gave her to
Sancha, then hurried out of the hacienda, already regretting
leaving her darlings.

Emilio looked like a man ready to argue when
Paloma said they would be safe with the two soldiers. “You know
that garrison as well as I do, señora,” he said.

“
I do,
estimato señor
. I also
know that my husband looks to me to carry out his will when he is
not present.”

Let’s see if he’ll buy that
, Paloma
thought. He knew better than anyone on the Double Cross the way she
and the
juez
worked together. “The
juez
would expect
you to keep his children safe, and you know I am in good hands with
Eckapeta,” Paloma continued. “Give me no argument, Emilio. We will
not be long. Don’t let down your guard.”

What could he say? Paloma swung herself into
the saddle, reminded that in a few months, she wouldn’t bend so
well. She rode close to Eckapeta, and wished, as she always did,
that some of the other woman’s enormous capability would rub off on
her.

They rode at a steady trot, eating up the
distance with no words spoken. The private kept his eyes on the
swivel, which earned an appreciative grunt from Eckapeta. “This one
will live long in Valle del Sol,” the woman said at last. “The
corporal, probably not.”

“
The corporal is watching, too,”
Paloma said. “How are they different?”

Eckapeta pointed with her lips. “See the fear
on the corporal’s face? It masters him, even though he speaks brave
words. The other soldier looks interested, but not afraid. And see
how loosely he carries his lance? He’s ready, but not in a
white-knuckle way.”

In Santa Maria, they passed the church, located
at the head of the plaza. Paloma saw four men in the cemetery, two
with shovels. She veered her horse toward the burying ground,
wondering if these were the horse traders. She looked beyond them
to a milling horse herd, and knew she was right.

The corporal protested when she dismounted, but
Paloma ignored him. He remained on the road, but the private
followed her and Eckapeta. The traders were stinking, bearded, and
greasy to a man. She chose one younger man only because he had blue
eyes like her own.

“
Señor, a word please,” she said.
“Are you bound for Taos and the trade fair?”

“
We are,” he said, taking off his
flat sombrero, one like Marco wore. “And you are—”

“
Señora Mondragón, wife of this
district’s
juez de campo
, who is now in Taos for the fair,”
she replied, acknowledging his bow with a slight nod of her head.
“This man you have buried—”

“
My father, Paco,” he said, “or
rather, the man who called me his son. I am Diego Diaz, and we are
horse traders, come most recently from the land of the
Utes.”

“
I am sorry for your loss,” she
said.

He had a pleasant voice and good diction,
something that contrasted with his rugged appearance and his
stench. She could barely see his face through a beard that probably
hadn’t been trimmed since Noah set sail.

He stepped closer, which made Paloma think he
did not want to be overheard by his comrades. “No particular loss,
señora. We palavered with these Comanches several leagues from
here. They wanted four horses as some sort of tax to pass through
their land, and Paco Diaz, my sort-of father, would not surrender
them. Now he is dead,” he finished simply. “Here endeth the
lesson.”

“
You are so casual,” she couldn’t
help saying.

“
Paco found me years ago, and that
is all,” Diego said with a shrug. “We bought these horses at great
cost, with the design of selling them in Taos. Our plan has not
changed.”

“
You are a plain-speaking man,”
Paloma said, wondering how she could admire such a heartless
fellow. She folded her gloved hands on the saddle’s pommel and
considered him.
He lives in a harsh land, too, Paloma
, she
reminded herself.

“
You are riding to Taos now?” Better
just to change the subject.

“
As soon as the dirt is tamped down
on this grave,” he assured her. “It is still light and we can get
some distance. How far? Three days? Four?”

“
Three, if you move along,” she
said.

“
Well, then,” he said, as if to
dismiss her.

The grave was packed down. She had no reason to
keep the man, because she did understand business. She backed up
her horse, then stopped.

“
Señor Diaz, a favor, please, since
you are going to Taos.”

He put his hat on, mounted, and came close to
her horse. His eyes might be blue as her own, but the face was a
hard one, with thin lips in a thin line. He was as dark as
Eckapeta, whether from nature or from lack of bathing, she couldn’t
tell. Still, he might do a small thing for her.

“
It is this: when you reach Taos,
please locate my husband, Marco Mondragón,
juez de campo
of
Valle del Sol. Tell him there are strange Comanches in his valley.
Tell him to come home immediately.”

He grinned at that, which threw a few years off
shoulders that had probably born too many burdens. “Señora, let a
man enjoy Taos!”

“
I can tell you are no husband!” She
skewered him with a look. “I greatly fear it when Comanche my
friend Eckapeta does not trust are loose in Valle del Sol. Tell him
that, too.
Please
.”

Maybe he heard the pleading in her voice, this
hard man, and was moved a little. Paloma knew she could probably
hope for no more from men who traded regularly with Indians and
lived on the fringes of society themselves. His face grew suddenly
grave, as he inclined his head. “Señora, I understand what
Comanches can do. Believe me. I will find your man and send him
home.”

Paloma saw his sorrow, and it touched her
heart. Rough he might be, and smelly, but he must have had his own
experience with Comanches, one beyond the hasty burial of this man
he didn’t entirely claim. Paloma touched her heart and extended her
hand toward him.

“
I know you will. Go with God, Señor
Diaz.”

He reined in his horse to look at her. “Señora,
I do not remember the last time anyone told me that.”

“
Then you need to keep company with
better people,” she said quietly and made a small sign of the
cross. “Hurry, now. Please hurry.”

In
which Paloma discovers how fast a horse can move