Ana Martin

by J. L. Jarvis

  “You are gifted, my friend,” said Villa to Eduardo as the Chinese cook took his plate from the table. “You take men’s hearts, fashion them into words and then set them afire.” Eduardo smiled humbly.

  “I, too, set hearts afire—hearts of women—in my bed,” he laughed. Others joined in. He glanced over toward Ana, who was seated by Eduardo. She looked down. Carlos glared.

  Throughout dinner, and after, Carlos lurked in silence in the seat provided by Villa at the far end of the table. While others hung on each word the man uttered, Carlos watched what he said with his eyes and his body. Eduardo offered to pour some Tequila, but Villa waved him off. Carlos looked at his own glass and emptied it. He then reached for the bottle and took a long drink straight from it. Others watched and applauded. Carlos set it down on the table so hard the applause turned to an awkward, unnatural quiet.

  “You don’t like me much, do you?” said Villa, grinning.

  Carlos leaned back in his chair and said, “No.”

  Eyes darted from one to the other. Villa’s grin vanished. A few rifle levers snapped, breaking the stillness. Neither Villa nor Carlos flinched. Ana looked from one to the other. With no warning, Villa burst into laughter. Cautious chuckles swelled to laughter.

  “Muy hombre,” he said through his laughter.

  Carlos inclined his head, not quite grinning.

  Villa’s face turned to granite. “But I am not a man of great patience, so take care.” He rose and gave Carlos’s shoulder a pat, which became a tight grip, then he left.

  It was late. Ana should have been sleeping, but she found it more difficult as the battle loomed nearer. Two more days and they would ride into Torreón to take over the city with the romance of revolution ablaze in their breasts. But the glory she had felt as a girl in the school room was absent. Books did not tell of the days of hunger, hands roughened by calluses from shooting and cleaning firearms, and from training for battle, or the hours hunched over a metate grinding corn for tortillas. Books did not kick up dust as horses did, stinging her eyes and obscuring her vision. And no book had warned her of the fear.

  Her father had faced death—but by choice. Her mother had met death with no warning. Ellen Crawford—Ana had not thought of her in years. Just a girl Ana’s age, seven years old, she’d run across the street, in the path of a wagon. Ellen stopped and stared in the moment of death, as the sun dried shore filled the air with its scent. The girl’s chest rose and fell a few times, and then she was gone.

  Fear soaked into Ana and brought her close to Ellen, her father, and her mother. She wanted to tell them, “I know how you felt just before it, but what was it like after that?”

  “Señorita Martínez?”

  Ana sprang to her feet and pulled her rebozo about her. The tent flap opened before her.

  “Mi General?”

  In strode General Villa.

  “Padre.” A priest followed close behind him.

  “Señorita Martínez.” Beneath a thick mustache, his mouth spread to a bold smile that made Ana uneasy. The priest stood by, fidgeting with his Bible with leathery hands. His right thumb was a stub cut short at the knuckle.

  Ana clutched the shawl in the front as she flipped her loose hair from beneath the makeshift shawl, a move she regretted when she saw the look in his eyes.

  “How pretty you are.”

  “Thank you, my General, but—”

  Ana stood close to the tent flap where the fresh air blended with the musty canvas.

  “Don’t look so afraid,” Villa said, a wide smile on his face.

  Chapter 14

  “A lady has no need to fear a gentleman, my General,” said Ana.

  “Ah, that is true. And you are quite a lady. I will uphold your honor, señorita.” General Villa stepped inside, forcing Ana to move out of his way or be trampled.

  “My honor? I don’t understand.” She felt dread.

  “I could not take my eyes from you all evening. You are a beautiful woman,” he said, shaking his head and appraising her figure.

  “Thank you, my General, but it’s late.”

  “But not too late. Marry me, señorita.”

  “Marry you?”

  “Yes.” He reached for her hand.

  “No.” Ana stepped back, pulling her hand from his.

  “The padre will marry us.”

  “No, mi General. I cannot.”

  “You are not married.”

  “No, but—”

  “Good. Padre?” He nodded. The priest began to recite.

  “I am promised to someone.” It was true. She was promised to don Limón. She did not need to lie.

  “He does not deserve you—any man who would leave a woman like you alone here—”

  “He is here,” Ana blurted.

  Villa’s eyes flashed for an instant before he smiled at Ana with a dangerous grin. He took a few steps about and stretched out his arms. “No one is here now but us, señorita.” He nodded to the Padre, who took a deep breath before Ana interrupted.

  “In the camp,” Ana said, as she inched toward the tent flap.

  Villa chuckled as he took a few steps closer. “How pretty you are when you lie.” She could feel his breath on her face as he put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. Ana spun around and ducked under the tent flap. She rushed outside, but an arm hooked her waist and yanked her into a steely embrace.

  “Ana, mi amor,” declared Carlos loudly. Ana took a sharp breath, and looked at him, stunned. Before she could speak, Carlos pressed his lips on hers. She let out a moan, more surprise than protest. His kiss deepened and made her head spin. Strong fingers combed into her hair. Ana melted against him, feeling weak from the thrill of his taste. She was losing herself in his kiss when it ended.

  Carlos pulled away and looked into her eyes. The remains of his kiss was still pulsing through her body as she stared, nearly forgetting to breathe. He held onto her waist and looked into her eyes. His expression was fierce, not at all what she expected to follow such a kiss. He looked past her and smiled too broadly. “Mi General. What a surprise.”

  Villa grinned, but a terrible darkness came into his eyes.

  Carlos said, “You’ve met my fiancé, señorita Martínez.”

  Ana cast a stunned look at Carlos as she took in a breath, but Carlos tightened his grip on her waist.

  Villa looked at Ana. “This is the man you are promised to?”

  Ana looked at Carlos. He lifted a brow. “Yes?” she answered, still looking at Carlos. “Yes,” she said, looking at Villa.

  General Villa cocked his head and frowned as he studied the couple. A sly grin started to form. “And you love him?”

  “Yes, my General.”

  “I watched you at dinner. You barely looked at the man, not to mention a word or a touch. And now he appears at your tent in the night? This is not how a man treats his lady.” He shook his head slowly. “No, this is how a man treats his whore.”

  Carlos lunged, but the priest stepped in the way and restrained him.

  “Do you love her?” Villa pointed a pistol at Ana. His eyes gleamed above a sly grin.

  Carlos backed away from the priest. He looked at the gun and at Ana. “Yes.”

  “I can’t blame you for that. She is a beautiful woman. But love makes you too brave and too stupid.”

  Carlos stared back, his face hard as stone. “That is the nature of love, my General.”

  Villa studied him. “Men have stood before firing squads for what you just did. But you are in love, and so I will pardon you.”

  Carlos clenched his jaw.

  “But all that anger.” Villa shook his head, smiling. “We must do something about that.” He walked over to Ana and stood inches from her. “What you need is a good…”

  Carlos flinched, but Villa still had the gun.

  “…woman.” He laughed as he led Ana over to Carlos. “A promise is a promise. Come here Padre.” The priest stood before them.

  Villa nodd
ed and said, “Proceed, Padre.”

  The priest began an astonishingly short recitation of a wedding ceremony.

  Ana trembled and repeated the vows.

  Carlos spoke in low tones.

  It was over. They were married and ushered inside the tent. “Sleep well, señor and señora,” said Villa, with a laugh. “That should get rid of his anger,” he said to the priest as they sauntered off laughing.

  Ana sat on her bedroll, ankles crossed, her arms wrapped around her knees. Carlos pulled back the tent flap and watched Villa leave. When he was satisfied that he would not return, he threw down the flap and sat down beside Ana.

  She stared forward with eyes full of tears.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m not hurt, if that’s what mean. What were you doing there outside my tent?”

  “I saw how he watched you at dinner. I did not trust him.”

  “So you followed him?”

  “No. I followed you.”

  “So you heard—?”

  “Everything.”

  Ana started to speak, but he cut her off, sounding angry. “Look, I’m sorry. I know how you want to be treated like any other soldier, but—”

  “I was going to thank you.”

  “Oh.” He shrugged it off, and his anger thawed.

  “You kissed me,” said Ana, staring at the ground.

  “Yes, well, I had to.”

  Ana, annoyed by her own disappointment, shrugged. “What else could you do?”

  Carlos said, “I did not want him angry—at least not with you. He’s a great leader, but a dangerous man.”

  A rifle fired. Ana flinched. Some men laughed.

  “It’s okay. Just someone shooting at a coyote.” Carlos looked outside to be sure.

  Ana watched him. When he turned around, she glanced away. Tears came freely.

  “Ana…” He sat down beside her and put his hand on the back of her neck.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “For whatever I did to cause all this to happen.”

  “This was not your fault, except that you were here. You can play the brave soldadera and fight like a man, but the problem is this: you are not a man. No matter how many gun cartridges you sling over your shoulders, there are men who will look upon you as a woman—not a lady—just a woman.”

  “No woman is just a woman.”

  “That’s not what I mean. And that’s not what I see when I look at you.”

  “Oh? What do you see?” She wished she had not asked.

  “Right now? I see my wife.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” His voice sounded kind.

  “For what I’ve put you through.”

  “Do you mean just tonight, or going back to the beginning?”

  Her brow wrinkled.

  “I was teasing you, Ana.” She could hear the grin in his voice.

  “I’m not quite in the mood to be teased.”

  “Come here.” He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Don’t worry; it’s over.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “He won’t bother you now.”

  “But we’re married.”

  “Yes, that’s true. But it could have been worse.”

  Ana said, “Ever since I was a girl, I dreamed that someday a man that I loved would get down on one knee and say, it could have been worse.” Their eyes met. She could not help but smile.

  He took her hand in his and said, “It’s not what I planned, but I’m not sorry it happened.”

  Ana stared at him, unsure of how to react.

  Carlos continued, “I’d give my life to protect you.”

  “I think you just did.”

  He took her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes. “It’s all right.”

  “Not for me. I didn’t want to be married like this.”

  His tone was acerbic. “Then you should have stayed home. You and Limón would have had a beautiful wedding with flowers—in a church.”

  His bitter reference did not escape Ana. She recalled the last time they were in church together.

  “That’s not what I want.”

  “What do you want?”

  It came out in a whisper. “Love.”

  He looked down and frowned.

  Her heart pounded. “Your love.”

  Carlos said, “I was wrong for you, Ana. We were wrong for each other.”

  “It didn’t feel wrong to me.”

  “But look what I’ve done to you. You’ve lost everything.”

  “You didn’t do anything to me. I was there, every step, and I made my own choices.”

  He shook his head. “As a man, I had a duty to the woman I loved.”

  “A duty?”

  “To take care of you.”

  “By breaking my heart?”

  Carlos closed his eyes, took a breath, and went on. “Man and wife do not fight side-by-side.”

  “We weren’t married.”

  “And they don’t stop on their way into battle to marry.”

  “People marry. There’s no perfect time. They just do it.”

  “I didn’t want to do that to you.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make you a widow. You could have gone home afterward and had a chance for a life. But as a widow of someone like me, what would you have? And who would have you?”

  “So you ruined my life now, rather than later.”

  “Yes, if that’s how you choose to see it.”

  “And you think I could ever feel this way about someone else?”

  He took her hand in his. “No two loves are the same. But if you find a man who makes you happy…”

  “Stop. You sound like you expect it.”

  “I just want what’s best for you.”

  “You sound like my uncle. He wanted what’s best. But I love you.”

  The light in his eyes made the problems dissolve.

  Ana added, “—too much.”

  “Ana, my love.” He kissed her and made her heart sigh, then he smoothed the hair from her forehead and, wiping a tear from her cheek, he said, “No more tears. It’s our wedding night.” He held her face in his hands and said, “My heart has been yours since the day I first robbed you.” His mouth spread into a smile.

  Ana laughed as she threw her arms about his neck, knowing she truly was his, and that their marriage would be happy.

  Ana woke in the time before dawn when thin ribbons of smoke still drifted up from the campfire embers. A faint sun diffused light into darkness before showing itself on the horizon. Ana heard a rustle as Carlos got up and stood close behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He nuzzled his face in her neck. “I love you.”

  She leaned back against him as he murmured, “Let me show you again.”

  “I want to go with you, Popi. I know how to use a gun. I can fight.”

  “No, little man. You must stay here with Ana and help guard the others.”

  Jaime glared angrily.

  “Now, come here.” Carlos held out his arms. Jaime refused to hug him.

  “Jaime, he’s your father,” said Ana.

  Carlos looked at Ana and shook his head to let her know not to worry. He turned to Jaime. “Well then, goodbye.” He extended his hand, which Jaime reluctantly grasped.

  Jaime tried to stay angry, but as Carlos let go, Jaime flew into his arms for a hug. Carlos closed his eyes and held onto his son. Then he stood and kissed Ana.

  It was time. Carlos squeezed Ana’s hand, and put his other hand on Jaime’s head and winked. He mounted his horse and rode off with his men.

  The Dinamita raid went as planned. Carlos and his men had worked together so many times that such operations were close to routine. Ana was ashamed to feel so relieved not to be chosen. She tried so to be brave, but fear loomed larger, more consuming than anything she had known until now—even grief.

  They decided to wait until after the raid to
tell everyone they were married. When the men all returned, they could make an announcement and have a great celebration.

  Ana was walking through camp looking for Jaime to give him his breakfast, when a pair of men’s trousers flew out of a tent and landed at Ana’s feet.

  “That bitch can have you!” said a woman’s voice from inside.

  Ana stopped and looked toward the tent, from which a cowering man came running, chased by a woman screaming with fury and spewing forth curses on him and his progeny. The man spied his pants and lunged for them. While hopping into them, he looked up at Ana.

  She gasped and said, “Padre!”

  “Padre?” The woman burst into raucous laughter. “He’s no Padre. He is more like a dog! No, he’s worse than a dog—a coyote—a snake…” She went on through the food chain, barely taking a breath.

  Ana took a step back and looked off to the side while the man frantically pulled at his trousers. “You’re not a priest?”

  “The General, he makes me do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “He marries the women he beds. It makes them feel better.”

  “He lies? Pretending to marry them?”

  “He usually does. But last night—well, he had a good laugh over that.”

  “My wedding was a joke?”

  “You are lucky. He was in a good mood last night.”

  “I’m not married?”

  “No, señorita.”

  A shoe flew through the tent, but it missed and hit Ana’s leg. The other followed and struck its target. “Excuse me, señorita.” He scooped up the two shoes and fled, barefoot, to safety.

  Eduardo led the rest of their band out of General Villa’s camp. They would make camp near Dinamita, where they would wait for Carlos and his men to join them. There they would rest up and prepare for the following day, when they would meet up again with Villa and ride on to Torreón as one force.