The Witch Narratives: Reincarnation (27 page)

Salia was engrossed with the play and every movement of the actors on stage. She was unaware of anyone else in the theatre, including Samuel.

As for Samuel, he did not watch the play. He watched Salia.

She oohed and went ah. She laughed. She cried. She hugged her hands to her chest.

He smiled at her with wry amusement. The play wasn’t even that good.

Half-way through, he covered her small hand with his large hand.

She entwined her fingers through his, so enchanted by the play she seemed to be in a different world. She didn’t even notice he held her hand throughout the rest of the play.

When the play was over, she turned to him, “Oh, thank you, Samuel,” she said squeezing his fingers. “The play was perfectly, absolutely, wonderful.”

He cupped her cheek with his hand and lowered his head. His lips parted hers in a long, sensuous kiss.

When he lifted his head, she stared at him with a shocked look. Her face was pale, her bottom lip trembling.

He rubbed his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. “It’s just a kiss, Salia, between friends.”

30

W
hen Samuel and Salia arrived at the dance, the field beside the Impatient Amusement Hall was already filled with cars and wagons.

“What in tarnation is that?” he said, pointing to a wagon in which a skeleton sat upright on the seat. The skeleton was clothed in a red party dress.

“It’s Pacheco Sandoval’s wife, Agnes.”

“She’s a bit on the skinny side isn’t she?”

“There was a big scandal that Agnes had relations with Pacheco’s brother and that she carried his child. The Penitentes buried Alfonso alive for adultery. Agnes vanished and after a short while, this skeleton, the same size as her, and wearing her clothes, appeared by Pacheco’s side. Agnes loved to dance. If you listen closely, you can hear her bones rattling in tune to the music. Pacheco goes nowhere without her. She lives at his house.”

“Probably shares his bed. No wonder the man’s so cold.”

Pacheco stepped out of the shadows. “Don’t do this, Patrón.”

“Do what, Sandoval? I believe you are standing in our way.”

“Do not escort this bruja to the dance. Patrón, if you fear for your soul…” Pacheco held his hat in his hands, turning it in a circle.

“Leave my soul to me. I believe you owe Miss Esperanza an apology for calling her a witch,” he said, his voice rising in anger.

She stepped back from the menacing look in Pacheco’s eyes. Samuel held onto her wrist, refusing to let her run away from the two men.

“I am but trying to save you,” Pacheco insisted.

“I don’t need saving, you lunatic. Now, tell Miss Esperanza you’re sorry.”

Silence.

Pacheco shoved his hat on his head and spun on his heel, in the direction of his wagon. His toady followed him.

“How’s Agnes, Pacheco?” Samuel yelled. “Give your wife my love.”

His back stiffened, and he clenched his hands into fists, but he kept walking.

“Don’t goad him. I never should have told you,” she said.

He snorted. “He uses that skeleton to intimidate people. The man’s mad.”

“Then, please, be careful of him.”

“I’m not afraid of him, with his so-called powers from God.”

“Puta! Bruja,” Pacheco yelled, as he drove by in his wagon, flicking his reins at his neighing horse.

“Don’t let his words worry you,” he said, placing his arm across her trembling shoulder. He held her to his side, protectively.

“He has scared me since I was a little girl,” she said, shivering. “He showed up after my mother killed herself, and said he wished she would have poisoned me first. Now, he tries to ruin the happiest night of my life.”

“You confess I make you happy?” he said in a light, bantering voice.

She grabbed onto his arm. “I’m afraid.”

“Of Pacheco?”

“Of them,” she said, pointing to the dance hall. “They will treat me like Pacheco.”

“Not if you’re with me, they won’t,” he said, patting her arm.

Samuel escorted her into the Impatient Amusement Hall. She held her back stiff and her head high.

Everyone stared.

At Samuel. She let out a sigh of relief. Everyone was more interested in him than in her. It seemed that no one, but Pacheco, recognized her. Yet.

She forgot about the others in the room. She looked around the dance hall in wonder. “It looks so very different from the other day, when it was a court room,” she whispered in Samuel’s ear.

“Yes, it does,” he whispered back.

“Why, the ballroom is just as I imagined it to you, with mirrored walls and a floor sparkling with gold specks, and a Christmas tree touching the ceiling.”

“You really are a fortune teller, Salia. Maybe you are a witch,” he said grinning.

She blushed.

Eustace, Oscar, and Mildred wasted no time in assaulting him with their presence, all three of them staring at Salia with cold eyes. Like the others, they did not recognize the beautiful woman in their presence, clothed so richly, with her hair swept up in high fashion.

“Why, hello, Hughes,” Samuel said, smiling happily at him.

He pointed to his wife and daughter. “Samuel, may I introduce…”

“Have you ever been formerly introduced to Miss Esperanza?”

“Of all the…” Oscar muttered through stiff lips. A gurgling sound came from Mildred’s throat.

Samuel bowed to Salia. “Miss Esperanza, may I introduce the manager of my mine, Oscar Hughes.”

“Nice to meet you, Señor Hughes,” she murmured.

“I am surprised to see you here,” he said in a frigid voice.

Samuel smiled at Mildred.

The elder woman batted her lashes.

Eustace leaned towards her mother, trying to get him to notice her.

He moved his head in her direction and cocked an eyebrow.

She smiled invitingly, flirting openly with him.

Salia spun to walk away, but he grabbed her arm and held onto her, digging his fingers into her skin. “Hughes,” he said, grinning at Eustace. “I don’t believe I’ve met the two charming ladies accompanying you this evening.”

Oscar perked up. He rocked on his heels, rubbing his hands. “May I introduce my wife, Mildred?”

She smirked, offering him her hand.

“Mrs. Hughes, I pray you are enjoying yourself this evening at my ball,” he said, bowing and squeezing Salia’s fingers. She was still trying to get away from him.

“I am. You have spent a fortune, decorating our Impatient Amusement Hall, Mr. Stuwart. You changed the Ladies Auxiliary’s decorating plans at the last minute. Men were sent scurrying to Santa Fe in the snow to purchase the mirrors and the gold glitter.”

Salia swung her head to him. He had the hall decorated according to her fantasy, which she described to him that day at the theatre. She tapped her foot, confused by the emotions she was feeling towards Samuel, whom she had thought of as her enemy.

“Not a fortune, Mrs. Hughes. I merely spent a few tons of coal. I was trying to impress…Madrid.”

They all laughed, except for Salia.

“Your efforts have not gone unappreciated,” Mildred said.

“Yes. I have impressed those who mean something to me,” he said, winking at Salia.

She looked down at the floor, blushing.

He let go of her arm and she stayed put, at his side, where he just implied she belonged.

“Well, you have impressed us, Mr. Stuwart,” Mildred said. “To replace our small band from Santa Fe with the best orchestra from Albuquerque is wonderful. And to do it on such short notice.”

Salia blinked her eyes at the floor.

“I am in a dancing mood this evening, Mrs. Hughes,” Samuel said.

Salia hugged her arms, shivering.

Mildred waited, her dance card ready, expecting an invitation.

Samuel bowed to the simpering woman by her side.

Oscar stuck out his chest proudly. “And this lovely young lady is my daughter, Eustace.”

Like a queen, she held out a gloved hand to Samuel.

He bowed, kissing her glove.

“I am so very gratified to finally make your acquaintance, Mr. Stuwart. We have much in common,” she said in a snooty voice.

Salia stared at the floor, dejectedly.

He dropped Eustace’s hand, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. “Why, you look just like your mother, Miss Hughes.”

Eustace looked over at her mother, horrified.

Mildred said, “Thank you, Mr. Stuwart. I was a beauty in my day, you know.”

“Yes. That was a long time ago,” he said. He turned to Oscar and said in an icy voice, “How impolite of you, Hughes. You failed to introduce your ladies, to
my
lady.”

Salia jerked her head up.

“Lady?” Mildred sputtered. “Why, I never…I don’t care how finely that…that witch is dressed. Her expensive ball gown can’t disguise the fact that she’s Spanish.”

Salia narrowed her eyes at Mildred. “You forget that I am Pueblo Indian, too,” she said proudly.

“Tut, Tut,” Samuel said. “Being a lady is not confined to the white race, you know.”

“Mr. Stuwart,” Mildred said, clasping her hands in front of her enormous stomach.

“Mrs. Hughes,” he spat.

“I will have it known that our Eustace is a graduate of Miss Broadman’s Finishing School for Young Ladies in Denver where she was taught how to paint a silk screen, how to run a household, play the piano very well, draw, cook, and sew. Nor do the girls there go wild like the flappers wearing short skirts, imbibing in alcohol, and necking with boys. I don’t believe there were any Spanish at the school were there, Eustace?”

“No, Ma-ma, there weren’t,” Eustace said, smiling at Samuel. “Nor wild Indians either.”

Samuel grinned encouragingly at her.

She turned her left cheek towards him, posing with her finger on her chin. “All my admirers say it’s my best side,” she said flirtatiously.

“There’s still your worst side to contend with,” he said distastefully. He turned to her parents. “Well, that’s all very fascinating,” he drawled. “I’m sure you have it known far and wide that your daughter attended Miss Broadman’s. But, as for myself, I prefer a messy house, a lady who can’t cook, and doesn’t know how to sew.”

They stared back at him with their mouths hanging open.

“Excuse me,” he said to the Hughes family.

He bowed at the waist to Salia. “Miss Esperanza, I believe this is our dance,” he said, offering her his arm.

She stared up at him with worshipful eyes, Samuel drowning in her eyes. They simply stood there, staring at one another for some seconds, forgetful of anyone else in the room.

He led her onto the dance floor, and the orchestra began to play.

He placed his hand on her waist and squeezed.

She placed a trembling hand in his hand, and her other hand on his shoulder. She shook all over.

“Courage,” he whispered in her ear. “Where’s the spitfire who balled me out the other day? Do you think anyone in this room, except yourself, has the guts to yell at me, cuss at me, hiss at me, and tell me to go to hell, the way you did?”

“It’s because I’m not really a lady,” she said in a small voice.

“You’re more of a lady than that man-hungry, Eustace Hughes. Dance with me, Salia.”

They danced a slow waltz around the room. Every eye was on Samuel and Salia, but the couple only had eyes for each other. Samuel only danced with her the entire evening.

He stood on the veranda with his arm around Salia’s waist, watching Madrid light up with Christmas lights. “There are 50,000 lights, just like you ordered. It took 20 miles of wire to light up the village, and all my miners working at it for two days. I sent my men to the hills to cut down Christmas trees and plant them in every front yard.” He pointed out Jerusalem and Toyland. She could hear the miniature train whistle.

She was speechless, never having celebrated Christmas before, and now, the owner of Madrid had done this for her.

500,000 kilowatts of lights were so bright, that planes headed for California or from California asked to be rerouted over Madrid. And like the Three Kings, cars headed to Madrid, wanting a look at the lights, and were backed up for 25 miles.

That evening, Salia earned Madrid’s respect, but not the kind of respect Samuel would have wished for her. Everyone whispered about what a powerful sorceress she was and how Salia bewitched the patrón, Samuel Stuwart.

That’s what happens when a man looks a witch in the eye.

31

A
s soon as his driver shut the back car door, Samuel pinned Salia against the seat.

Startled, she pushed him.

He pressed his mouth against hers, forcing her lips apart and shoving his tongue in.

She choked.