The Forever Tree

by Rosanne Bittner

  Will was enraptured just watching her talk, listening to her soft Spanish accent. She spoke English very well, and he supposed a man like Dominic Alcala would make sure his children were well-educated. He enjoyed the innocence in her eyes, her youthful enthusiasm, and the passionate way she had of speaking. There was no way of hiding her feelings behind those dark eyes. Everything was right there, open, honest, alight with curiosity.

  “No,” he answered. “I’m Protestant…Methodist. Is that a terrible thing out here?”

  She frowned. “Father has grown used to dealing with Protestants, but he says that all of you will surely never reach heaven.”

  Will wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much. “Well, I guess I almost found out yesterday, didn’t I?”

  “Yesterday?”

  “When I was shot.”

  “Oh, that was two days ago, senor.”

  Will was surprised. “Two days?”

  “Si. As I said, I told my father everything that happened. I also told him that you and your friend were much braver than Hugo. Of course, I did not tell him that in front of Hugo, but it is true. Hugo was more interested in saving his horses than saving me. He thinks that just because he shot those men after it was over, that made him the brave one. He tried to make himself look like an important man because of that, but I told Father it was you and Senor Gray who were the brave ones.”

  “What about Noel? Is he all right?”

  “He is fine, senor. He is out riding, looking at some of my father’s trees, waiting for you to recover so that you can both go deeper into the forest on my father’s land and see the big trees for yourself.”

  Will sighed in frustration, irritated that any of this had happened. He had so much to do, was eager to get out and see those trees. “Hugo shot those men?”

  He watched her eyes, saw the disgust and hatred there. “Si. It was a terrible thing to see.” Her eyes teared, and she shivered. “Father is angry that he did not take the men to his ranch first, rather than shoot them right in front of us. I have had bad dreams from it. I know that they were bad men, but to shoot them that way…”

  “It was wrong of him,” Will said. “I agree with your father. Where I come from…” He shifted in bed, grimacing with pain. “Where I come from, people don’t just shoot criminals on sight. They’re arrested and allowed a trial. A jury decides what will be done with them.”

  “A jury?”

  “A group of people who hear what happened and vote on what should be done. We have laws, jails, judges.”

  Santana shook her head. “It is not like that here. In the city there are only vigilantes to make the law and punish criminals. There are no trials. And out here, landowners make their own laws. If a man steals a horse, he is hanged for it…or shot. People would say Hugo had a right to do what he did. Even my father would agree. It is the fact that he did it in front of me and Louisa and Estella that he is upset about. But then, after all, those men did kill both of the guards, and they might have killed you and your friend and made off with me. I suppose it is best that they are dead.”

  “Maybe, but with the kind of law you have out here, innocent men could be hanged or shot before they have a chance to defend themselves. And men like your father and Hugo can use any excuse to kill any man they don’t happen to like.”

  She stiffened. “My father would never—”

  “No. But Hugo would, wouldn’t he?”

  She looked at her lap. “You do not like him.”

  “I don’t think many people do, including you. Why are you marrying him?”

  She quickly rose, putting on a defensive look. “You are practically a stranger, and an American, who does not understand our ways. It is expected of me. My father gave his word many years ago to Hugo’s father, who saved my family’s lives during the Mexican Revolution. It is Father’s way of uniting the wealth of both our families.” She glanced toward the doorway as though afraid someone might hear her talking about her marriage, then looked back at Will. “I did not come here to talk about personal things, Senor Lassater. Such matters are not your concern. I only wanted to see that you are getting better, and tell you I am grateful for what you did for me.”

  Will rubbed at his eyes. “I’m sorry. It is none of my business. I came here to build a sawmill and cut trees…if your father will let me.” It was becoming an effort to talk. Already he was feeling tired. “I’ll stay out of your personal lives. Once I get started logging, I’ll be too busy to get involved anyway.”

  Santana stared at him a moment, wanting to ask him a thousand questions about what it was like where he came from. And she wanted to admit that she, too, hated Hugo and had no desire to marry him. Did this American know of a way she could get out of her father’s promise? She was too embarrassed to ask a stranger something so personal, and perhaps it would be a betrayal of her father. He would be devastated if she discussed such a thing with a man like this.

  He was so easy to talk to, though, this Will Lassater. She wished they had all day. She wanted to know about logging, wanted to see him cut down one of the big redwoods. What had brought him here? What was his family like? Was there a woman back in Maine…a woman he loved? He was so very handsome, and although she had no right looking upon his bare arms and shoulders, she could not help noticing them as he lay there, so muscled, his chest so broad and hard. His sandy hair was tousled, which only made him more handsome, and his eyes…so blue. When he looked at her she felt he knew her every thought.

  She moved the chair back where it belonged. “Father is very grateful to you,” she told him. “Because of that, he has told Hugo he already agrees you should be allowed to rent his property. When you are better, he will take you out and show you all that he owns. It is very beautiful.”

  Just like you, Will thought. “I am grateful to your father in return.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “And to you. I’m sure you had a lot of influence in his decision.”

  “I only told him the truth about how brave you were.” Her eyes widened. “I have never seen a man throw a hatchet like that. You are as fast with the hatchet as some men are with guns!”

  Will kept smiling in spite of the ache in his side. “I’ve worked with tools like that all my life. Back home we have contests…how fast a man can saw down a tree, how fast he can split a certain number of logs, hatchet-throwing contests, tree climbing, wrist wrestling, things like that. And back home we don’t carry guns around all the time, unless we’re going hunting. My skill isn’t with guns, just with saws and hatchets…and sometimes my fists.”

  She laughed, and Will thought how musical it sounded, light and cheerful, like the birds outside his window.

  “It must take very strong men to do the kind of work you do,” she said. “I have never seen a man built quite like you and Senor Gray, with such powerful arms. I would like to see you chop down one of our redwoods. I think you will find it impossible for one man.”

  “Well then, you’ve given me a challenge. Do you ride?”

  She lifted her chin. “I ride better than most of the men on La Estancia de Alcala. My father says so. I have my own horse, a Palomino called Estrella.”

  “Star.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “You know Spanish?”

  “Not as well as I’d like, but enough to get by. I figured if I was coming to California, I’d better learn.”

  “Why did you ask if I ride?”

  “Because you should ride with us when we go out to inspect the trees. You could learn more about logging.”

  She smiled softly, but her eyes held a disappointed look. “I do not think my father would let me. He—”

  They both heard the sound of horses approaching. “My father and Hugo are back! I must go!” She hurried to the door, but after peeking around it, turned back inside. “Delores is at the end of the hall talking to Louisa,” she whispered. “I cannot leave!” She looked around the room, then ran to a large wardrobe and opened the doors. Few clothes hung inside, since this room was
reserved for guests. She climbed into the wardrobe, putting a finger to her lips and giggling before closing the doors to hide herself.

  Moments later Will heard men talking as they came into the house. He recognized one of the voices as Hugo’s. The voices came closer, and Hugo walked into the room with a stocky older man who was still quite handsome in spite of his graying hair and mustache. The man was shorter than Hugo, very dark complected, and was dressed in black pants, a white shirt with a string tie, and high black leather boots that came to his knees.

  “Ah, Senor Lassater, you are finally awake!” Hugo exclaimed. “Dominic and I have been out choosing some mares to mate with a stud horse that I own. We decided to come here as soon as we got back to see how our American friend is doing.”

  “Much better, thank you.” Will put out his hand toward the second man. “You must be Dominic Chavez Alcala.”

  “Si,” Dominic answered, shaking Will’s hand firmly but gently. “And I cannot thank you enough for what you did in protecting my daughter, senor. I will be forever grateful. I have already told Hugo that I will gladly allow you to inspect my timber and rent whatever parts of my forested land you feel you need.”

  “I’m extremely grateful, sir,” Will answered, still holding the man’s hand. “Getting started out here is a dream my father had, but he passed away before he could realize that dream. I’ve come here to do that for him. If things work out the way I think, I will make a lot of money for Lassater Mills…and for you in the process.”

  “We will all make money,” Hugo put in. “When I marry Senorita Lopez, we will combine La Estancia de Alcala with Rancho de Rosas, and Dominic and I will be the biggest landholders in northern California. Together we own thousands of acres of the big trees, senor. The supply will be endless. As soon as you are able to ride, we will take you to see the trees, and you will see that California grows trees unlike anything you have ever seen back home. Together we took care of the outlaws, and together we will conquer the great redwoods!”

  Will just looked at him, hardly able to believe the man was taking credit for stopping Santana’s would-be abductors. What a pompous ass you are, he thought. He wanted to ask Hugo point-blank in front of Santana’s father, if expanding his holdings was the only reason he was marrying Santana. He felt like shouting at Dominic Alcala, telling him he was wrong to hold his daughter to a promise made years ago and let her enter into such an unhappy marriage; but this was not the time or the place. Perhaps there never would be a proper time. He certainly did not dare offend the man at the moment. Alcala was offering him the dream of a lifetime. “I look forward to seeing those trees, sir,” he told Dominic. “But it’s going to be a few days yet. I’m pretty sore.”

  “Of course you are. You take all the time you need, Senor Lassater. We have plenty to talk about in the meantime. I will bring you a map and show you the lay of my land, where the thickest forests are, show you my boundaries.”

  Kindness shone in Dominic Alcala’s eyes, and Will took hope in that. Perhaps he could be reasoned with. Will would take his time, get to know him better before he interfered with Dominic’s personal life. He looked at Hugo, seeing something different in his cold, dark eyes. The only thing the man was thinking was that this entire venture was going to make him richer. “What happened to the bandits?” he asked Hugo. “And to my friend Noel?”

  “Your friend is fine, senor,” Hugo answered, smiling. “And you will not have to worry about the bandits. They are dead. They stole my horses, so I shot them.” There was a hideously proud look on his face, as though shooting the men were the same as shooting a wild animal on a hunt.

  Will frowned, deciding to take advantage of the opportunity to embarrass this man he had learned to despise in only a matter of days. “I remember gunshots…just before I passed out. Surely you didn’t shoot them in front of Senorita Lopez!”

  Hugo lost his smile, glancing at Dominic, then back at Will. “It had to be done quickly,” he said. “They were still armed and we were not.”

  “The one I landed a hatchet into was unable to do any harm. Noel had the other man under control, and the man I’d tackled lost his weapon. You could have just—”

  “I did what was necessary, senor. Out here men must live by the law of Hugo Bolivar and Dominic Alcala! They quickly learn not to cross either of us. My intended wife knows this. Her father lives by the same law.”

  Will held Hugo’s gaze, knowing full well what the man was telling him. It was Hugo’s law by which men must live out here, including himself. And that meant staying away from Santana. At the moment, if he’d been in full health, he would have had trouble keeping himself from landing a fist into Hugo Bolivar’s face and wiping that arrogant look off it.

  “I agree with Senor Lassater,” Dominic put in. “I wish that you had not killed those men in front of my daughter, Hugo, but what’s done is done. They committed a wrong for which they had to die. They were foolish men who should have known what would happen to them.”

  Hugo folded his arms authoritatively. “It is best that Senor Lassater learns that we live a different way here in California and understands the laws and customs of the Californios. Out here a man is master on his land, and any man who tires to steal what he owns must suffer just punishment.”

  Will ignored Hugo, afraid that if he didn’t, he would say something that would be considered an insult. He kept his gaze on Dominic Alcala, who, he surmised, was a much more reasonable and merciful man than Hugo. “I appreciate your willingness to do business with me, Senor Alcala, and your hospitality,” he said. “I will try to get out of this bed and your house as soon as I can. I’ll build my own place near the mill once I decide just where to locate it. I’ll pay you whatever you think is reasonable rent, plus five percent of my profits from the lumber.”

  Dominic nodded. “I will give much thought to what is a fair price. For now you must rest, senor, and you must also eat to get your strength back. I will have our cook, Hester, make a mild beef soup for you. Anything else you need, you tell her or my house servant, Delores. They will see that you have everything you need. When you are rested and able to get up, we will talk more and settle our agreement on paper. I thank you again for what you did. When you are well, you must show me this talent you have for throwing a hatchet. My daughter told me you were almost as quick as a man with a gun.”

  Will grinned in spite of his growing weariness. The pain and his weakness were catching up with him. “I’ve been wielding hatchets since I was about five years old. My mother…used to chastise my father for letting such a small child handle…such a wicked instrument. She was always afraid I’d chop off my own foot or hand.”

  Dominic chuckled “Well, you certainly impressed my daughter and the others. I must tell you that if Santana should try to come in here and talk to you, you just shoo her away. She should not come into a guest’s room and pester him with questions, but the child in her makes her do foolish things sometimes. She knows it is forbidden to talk alone with any man, especially one she hardly knows. She cannot even see Hugo alone until they are married. When you are able to join my family at the dinner table, however, you may speak with her and answer the many questions I know she has about what life is like where you come from, and about logging. Even I have many questions, but I know that you are too tired for them right now. Please do not take offense at my warnings. I only tell you these things so that you understand our customs and do nothing to offend me or my family.”

  “I understand,” Will answered. “Your daughter is very sweet and very beautiful, Senor Alcala. Senor Bolivar is a lucky man.” He turned his gaze to Hugo, who was watching him closely.

  “Si, he is very lucky,” Dominic answered. “The day they marry, it will be the biggest wedding anyone has ever seen.”

  “We will have a fiesta here and in San Francisco,” Hugo added, lifting his chin proudly. “It will last for days, perhaps a week. All of the most important people in California will be invited to come and meet my
beautiful new wife, and Santana will live a grand life, like a queen!”

  And she’ll be the unhappiest woman in northern California, Will thought. “I’m sure you’ll both be very happy,” he said aloud. “By then I should have my sawmill in full operation, so I doubt I’d be able to attend the grand event.” His eyes drooped. “Right now I think I need to sleep some more,” he added, wanting to get them both out of the room so poor Santana could come out of hiding.

  “Of course,” Dominic said. “I will have Delores and Hester look in on you often. As soon as you are awake enough again to eat, they will bring you the soup. And I must tell you, I have tasted the syrup you brought from the East. It is wonderful! I have never tasted anything so sweet. Hester is excited about the many ways she can use it in her cooking. You will have to share with us some of your own ways of using the syrup.”

  “I will be glad to.”

  Dominic nodded and left. Hugo followed, but he lingered at the doorway, waiting for Dominic to go on without him. He turned back to Will. “I would remember what Dominic told you about staying away from Santana,” he said. “She is impetuous and strong-willed, and she has the curiosity of a child. I believe she thinks you a bit of a hero, and I have seen how you look at her, Senor Lassater. I will be leaving soon for San Francisco again, and I am trusting that you will honor the fact that I have helped you by introducing you to Don Alcala and have encouraged him to allow you to cut his timber. Timbering rights are hard to come by, as many of my people do not care to allow Americans to use their land. You may repay me by keeping in mind that Santana belongs to me, and remembering the rules Dominic told you about. And I will remind you that no one steals from Hugo Bolivar.”

  Will glanced at the wardrobe, suspecting that the “impetuous” Santana was having trouble hiding a giggle. She is not your wife yet, he wanted to tell Hugo, and she is not an object you can possess. She is a beautiful, virtuous young woman who has feelings and who surely does not want to be owned like cattle, but rather, loved and cherished. “I will remember,” he said aloud. “And I am grateful for your bringing me here. As for the incident with the bandits, I only did what I had to do. I don’t consider it heroic.”