His green eyes wandered down to her lips, then down to her neck and heaving chest, and up to her lips again. Victoria's white cotton blouse had lost most of its buttons and was clinging to her torso, revealing her tantalizing breasts to the eyes of this stranger. For a split second, the stranger had tempting thoughts. He felt a wild, irresistible desire, seeing such a beautiful girl expose herself through her thin, wet clothes, and for a moment he almost forgot his important mission. For one instant, his manly intent was to ravish her, to throw her on the ground, and with great passion, lustfully kiss her breasts, to show her how a real man makes love. "I could kiss you, and perhaps take you, here and now, since we are out in this wilderness—nobody can see us—but this is not the right moment," he whispered into her ear, rubbing his cheek against her face.
The passion dissipated quickly. He came to his senses and began to regain his composure, knowing that any wrong move would jeopardize his assignment, making a big difference in his undertaking. He ordered her to pull her skirt up and away from the affected area so the material would not touch the spines on her legs.
Victoria mumbled and struggled in defiance, but the stranger still had her muzzled and pinned down. She tried to speak, but then, in an unexpected motion, he gently released his pressure and let go of her hair. His right hand went directly over her mouth. "Don't say anything!" he instructed her. "Don't you scream! I just want to help you! Just do as I say! You devilish hellcat! Now! Spread your legs!" he commanded.
Oh! God! Thought Victoria, I ignored my mother’s orders. She began to tremble uncontrollably as she squirmed with tension, sensing the stranger was in complete control of her. She felt a haunted, hollow feeling—a feeling of being trapped. What's going to happen? Oh, Lord! I disobeyed my mother!
The stranger stood facing her and slowly moved down in a crouched position. He then reached between her legs and grabbed the back of her long skirt, bringing the fabric forward and wrapping it up front and around her legs and knotting it below her knees. The touch, the warm feeling between her legs, had given him a titillating sensation of raw emotion that only a man could understand. Dios! Beautiful face, gorgeous legs, and full, rounded breasts, he thought to himself. Gently and with tender, trembling hands, he picked Victoria up, set her in her saddle, and handed her the rifle. He took a deep breath and blew it out. God, help me! They make tough women in Texas! God help the man who tries to tame this girl!
"Come!" she ordered, looking down at him. "I'll take you to my house. Just follow me! Try and catch me!" she teased, like the spider enticing her prey. No one at the hacienda rode faster than Victoria. She kicked her palomino into a gallop and took off down the path, feeling a wonderful sense of freedom and relief.
"Wait! Wait for me!" yelled the stranger, but his voice was lost to the wind. Feeling hopeless and drained by his unexpected emotions, he was, at the same time, captivated by the defiant young woman he had found out here in this wilderness. He stood mesmerized and intrigued, realizing that the man he was searching for had such a beautiful creature for a daughter. He took in a deep breath. What a girl! What an afternoon!
As she raced away, Victoria turned her head and looked back at the handsome stranger who looked surprised and stood stupefied, like the cat that let the mouse get away. He must be kidding me, she thought, halfway smiling, as if she were escaping from an evil encounter and outsmarting the opposition. If her parents found out she had run into a complete stranger out in the cacti jungle, and he had touched her legs and fondled her breasts, her father would surely kill him. What was he planning to do, anyway? She wondered. Taking the spine needles from my legs was out of the question. That would not be lady-like and was forbidden at Spanish Acres. Men could not be that intimate with ladies out in public. The nerve of him saying that I was a spoiled girl. Bah! I am not a girl— I am a woman!
The afternoon was ending and the skies were getting darker. It started to rain harder, with gusts of rain hitting her face. The rain was going to be a blessing. To the west in a lovely sunset haze on the southeast horizon were numbers of heavy, treacherous-looking clouds heading toward Spanish Acres. Lightning flared; the wind and rain were becoming stronger.
Who is that stranger? I never did ask his name, thought Victoria. So handsome, so powerful, and no one had ever talked to her in that way, except her father, when he was angry. She was in awe, enchanted, perhaps, and dazzled. But, Dios! He is so good looking! So different, more charismatic than any other men she had known. What was it about him that was so intriguing? What kind of magical voodoo did he possess? His eyes were expressive, beguiling, so beautiful and magnetic. From the moment she had looked into his eyes, she had experienced a carnal flow of emotions so strong and thrilling, so different, that she had almost forgotten the agonizing pain in her legs. She felt embarrassed at how he stared at her body. And yet, looking down at herself, she realized that she had exposed her breasts to a total stranger. He never intended to hurt me. He was only trying to help, she repeated, trying to convince herself. I wonder how long will he be staying at Spanish Acres?
She would need to tell Mamá Maria and her Mother about the encounter as soon as she got back, but she could not come to the reality of explaining what really happened. On the back of her running horse, she felt as though she were sailing along on a cloud, and with a wonderful secret. I wonder what he wants with my father. I should have been more polite. But after what happened several days ago, no decent girl is going to take any chances. Then a horrible thought overcame her. What if he's somebody really important? And I acted so rudely! The big windmills of Spanish Acres soon came into view in the distance, and then the hacienda, and the oncoming rain. She must hurry!
CHAPTER 6
Victoria arrived at the hacienda in agonizing pain. Her clothes and hair were soaked, and her bleeding legs and ankles were already red and swollen. Manuel took her horse as she dismounted. He had been pacing the hard, stone courtyard outside the kitchen, waiting for Victoria's return, since he was in charge of the horses, and Victoria's horse had not returned to the stables. Victoria told Manuel to inform her father that a courier was looking for him and was making his way toward the hacienda with important information. Manuel nodded and disappeared with the wet horse into the stalls. She then stormed inside holding her skirt away from her bleeding legs.
She was taken immediately upstairs to her bedroom, where the diligent hands of Mamá Maria and Doña Francisca began working on dislodging the embedded cacti spines. They had been worried out of their minds from her long absence. Not being there for the evening meal, Victoria was brought a plate of food by Yolanda, who then stood by silently watching.
Victoria laid face down crossways on the bed, with only a soft white towel wrapped around her torso. Her bottom remained covered by her silky pantaloons, while her bare legs protruded out from the edge of the bed. Her wet clothes had been stripped and taken to the washroom. She was lucky to have been wearing her high-buttoned kid boots, for they had protected that part of her skin, but the thickness of her ankles showed collateral damage from the horrible painful spines.
"Hold still, Niña!" demanded Mamá Maria, as she hovered over Victoria's legs with a magnifying glass and tweezers, as if she were a precious diamond ready to be cut. "And what took you so long in getting back?" she railed. "We were all sick, worried out of our minds, wondering what had happened to you! We were getting ready to send Roy and the other vaqueros out to find you!"
"Mamá please don't pull so hard," pleaded Victoria. "It hurts like the devil. Ah! Ah! Ay!"
"Well, Hija! That teaches you to pay attention to where you are going, young lady! Riding out and staying so long is almost unforgivable. I wish that you had taken Yolanda with you and listened to my instructions. You mustn't be riding by yourself. How many times have we told you that?"
Yolanda remained silent but chuckled to herself, like the cat that ate the canary, treasuring all of the verbal thrashings, since she had always resented Victoria for being the spoiled
rich girl that she was.
Doña Francisca was in an unusually serious mood; the incident with Soledad had triggered a delicate nerve, especially with regards to her only daughter. "Young girls must not be roaming around this untamed region unescorted, and furthermore—" Her words got caught in her throat and she began coughing. When she could speak, she continued, "All it takes is one minute and you could be dead."
"Por Dios, Mamá," Victoria snapped. "This is our land! I was just exercising my horse. I haven't taken him out for several days." Her mother's words "young lady" triggered resentment in Victoria's mind. "The stupid horse bucked me off, probably thinking that he was stepping on a rattler. A young man, a messenger wanting to talk to the father, he said, who was resting by the resaca, rescued me. He helped me up from the cactus patch and put me back on my horse." Victoria was trying to sound diplomatic. "He was very polite and talked about coming from Chihuahua to visit with Father on an important issue."
By the exchanged glances and the expressions on the two women’s faces, especially her mother's, which looked like she was going to faint, Victoria knew immediately that a sermon was at hand. Her head was on the block. Now where was the swinging ax?
"Victoria!" exclaimed Doña Francisca, in a high-pitched voice. She always called her Hija maternally, and was always so sympathetic and always harmonious to all of the household and her needs. But when her mother raised her voice and used her given name, Victoria's instincts immediately told her she was headed for a long lesson on morals and proper conduct. "You know better than to become friendly with strangers! Have you forgotten what happened to Soledad?" Doña Francisca scolded her. La Señora pivoted her head and caught Mamá Maria's eye, both in a state of astonishment. The two looked at each other and shook their heads. Yolanda stood like a statue, rolling her eyes.
Turning over, Victoria had some quick explaining to do. Using her charm and salesmanship ability, which she had inherited the genes from her grandfather George, she continued. "But, Mamá it wasn't what you think!" Her eyes lit up. "The nice gentleman helped me, and we need to thank him when he shows up. He is headed this way and should be here soon. I left him in a hurry because of the pain in my legs. The gentleman is some kind of an emissary, bringing Father an urgent message from somebody real important in the state of Chihuahua."
Their conversation went on, with the two women asking questions about the stranger. What did he look like? What was his name? As if it had mattered. Questions becoming like the Spanish Inquisition. All that she would say was, "He was so handsome, so strong," and "I don't know!" Victoria straightened herself up. She glanced at Yolanda, who stood bored stiff, unconcerned, but absorbing it all, rolling her eyes and resting on her wide tamale hips, first one side and then the other. Victoria wished she had not mentioned the stranger, but she was glad she had not given full details of what had really happened, or she would never have heard the end of her sinful actions. It would be her own private secret, not telling anyone about the exciting, adventurous, scandalous event.
A commotion of barking dogs and people talking and scurrying about suddenly arose from the downstairs entrance of the hacienda. Doña Francisca walked to the French doors that led onto the balcony and began closing them, as a streak of lightning flashed across the horizon. She stood for a moment coughing and caught sight of a man on a horse approaching through the front arches. "I see someone coming! Go get Manuel to help him with his horse," she ordered Maria. "We'll need to put him up for the night. Thank God. Looks like we are going to get some rain, so much needed for the cattle and all of the ranchers." She stopped for a moment to cough again, became confused, found her handkerchief, wiped her mouth and then put both hands holding her head as if losing her bearing on which priority was first. She then said, "Never mind, Maria, just stays with Victoria, while I walk downstairs and see about our guest."
There was a hard knock on the big front doors. Doña Francisca had stepped outside the hall as the howling wind was banging the windows and roof, and other noises could be heard coming from the outside due to the wind, which had gained velocity.
"Yolanda!" Doña Francisca ordered, stepping back into Victoria's bedroom, "Come downstairs with me and get the west room ready for our company."
Yolanda was stiff, like a wooden puppet, never saying a word as she followed Doña Francisca.
"Bueno," Mamá Maria replied as she continued to talk and doctor Victoria's legs. "I'll be finished soon. You'll be good as new again," she said in a loving tone.
"That stuff stinks! I can hardly stand it!" Victoria fired back impatiently, referring to the alcohol Mamá Maria was using. Her excitement had not diminished from her recent experience. She was anxious to get up, get dressed in her newest gown, and join her mother and the visitor downstairs.
"It only stinks for a little while. This liniment is what the vaqueros use, given to me by Doña Adela, for poisonous snakebites. A potion made from Spanish dagger thorns. It will take the redness and the swelling from your legs. It prevents you from getting a high fever. You'll feel better in the morning. You'll see what Mamá Maria tells you is true, corazón!"
Doña Francisca and Yolanda hurried downstairs. Already they could hear Don Federico’s greeting to a young man, who was trying to shake the rain from his clothes and hat. Doña Francisca began coughing and attracted Don Federico's attention. "Ah!" He glanced up at the ladies descending the stairs. "Let me introduce you to my wife. Querida! This is Juan Alvarez, who comes all the way from Laredo, bringing us word from our dear friend, Madero."
Don Federico apologized, having to excuse himself from the handsome gentleman. It was raining hard now, and there were things he had to take care of in the barn and he needed to give Roy his orders. He promised to return as soon as possible and disappeared into the long halls, talking to Manuel, giving him instructions concerning onJuan's horse and what needed to be done for the following day.
"Cómo está usted, Señora Juelson? Juan Andreu Alvarez at your service." He bowed formally and graciously extended his hand to Doña Francisca, smiling. Then he noticed Yolanda, who was standing behind Doña Francisca. "And who is this beautiful young woman, one of your daughters?"
"This is Yolanda Garcia," introduced Doña Francisca, "one of our helpers, and yes, she is like a daughter to us—she has lived here all her life. Yolanda is going to get your bedroom ready, your food, and get you comfortable for your stay at our place."
"I was not expecting to stay overnight, but—how marvelous." Juan smiled at Doña Francisca, admiring her beauty. He was not expecting such generous hospitality from a family he was not acquainted with and in a strange land, especially Texas. However, Madero had talked very highly of the family, and in his travels, he had met many kindly people.
Yolanda stood in awed amazement as if seeing a pictured prince. She stood frozen in place and could not contain her excitement. She had dreamed about a man like him and had wished for him in so many of her potions that Doña Adela had given her. He was the perfect man—the perfect knight, who every young girl dreams about in her everyday thoughts and wishes. In all of her life, she had never seen such a handsome man.
"Word from Madero," replied Doña Francisca, composing her thoughts. "The last word we've heard from him was that he was in prison in San Luis Potosi, sometime in the early spring." La Señora turned to check on Yolanda, who stood as if she were cemented from her waist down and had not moved. "Yolanda!" she said, pointing to the kitchen and bedroom area. "Go get the food and get the bedroom ready. Thank you."
Juan answered, "Si, Señora. Madero has been freed and is on his way to San Antonio. He was released on bond but had to stay in the city of San Luis Potosi, in danger, while the Federalist Troops in Mexico were watching him all the time. He left word with me to get in contact with your husband, Don Federico." Juan was a little nervous but smiled, displaying his friendly disposition and likable demeanor. "I was to bring him to San Antonio, where we'll be staying with our friends."
The conversat
ion went on for several minutes, discussing the political situation in Mexico. The artful Doña Francisca started with her own small talk, going into a lengthy discourse about the weather they were having. She was a master in obtaining information in her own sweet and unassuming way. As soon as La Señora ascertained the visitor’s status, she would immediately zero in with common questions, such as: Where is your family from? Where are you going to school? What do you plan to do with your life? Normally these were the three most important questions that would establish frankness in their communications. Knowing the family prominence was important, and after those answers were established, she could proceed with her normal conversation. Rank was important because it determined on which level of the hacienda he would sleep.
Yolanda glanced sideways and fluttered her eyes at Juan. She slowly disappeared toward the kitchen area, shocked and still dazzled, blinking her eyes, and with a smile on her blushing face. Qué mango! She thought.
Don Federico returned after seeing to Juan's horse and having the servants take care of his wet jacket. He was apologetic and kindly cut in on the conversation. "Let's go to the library where we'll be freer to talk." He turned to Doña Francisca "Querida! I don't think that Juan has eaten anything. Please see that the servants prepare him some food. He'll be staying the night, or for that matter, as long as he wants." He then addressed the young Alvarez. "It's too bad that you had to come to our hacienda when the weather is so stormy. We have seen better days. But come! Please make yourself comfortable." Don Federico graciously pointed and ushered the young Alvarez down the long corridors to his library.
Roots of Indifferences Page 11
