Owen Family Saga Box Set: Books 1-3

by Ward, Marsha

  But the chance for him to make that choice had got away from him. Maybe the same thing had happened to this girl.

  James put a fist to his belly to press against a sudden sharp pain that joined the leaden lump in his gut. His movement brought the girl’s eyes around to his once more, and he wondered if her pain was anything like his.

  She took a deep, quick breath, unconsciously drawing James’s attention from her face to her form.

  Six little beans! A man could forget a multitude of pains if he was cuddled up in a snug cabin next to a girl the likes of this one.

  Hold up, James, he told himself, pulling his runaway thoughts down to a trot with a short rein. Don’t you cheat this little girl. She’s far from home, and sitting in a mighty worrisome place. Don’t you add to her troubles by taking advantage. You said you’d see her home to her mama, and that’s where she’s going, with a second chance to get a husband from that crowd of young men outside her door.

  James bit his lip, tasting warm blood as his teeth sliced through the smooth inside membrane of his mouth. He stemmed the slightly salty flow with his tongue and swallowed hard.

  Then his mouth was open and he was speaking out, and his words surprised himself as much as they surprised Tom. “She came to marry a stranger. I reckon I’m as good a stranger as the next man, and better than some. Tell her I’ll stand as her bridegroom.”

  Tom’s face came down in a hurry from gazing at the ceiling, and he looked hard at James, peering into his eyes. The young man stared back, standing his ground, so Tom turned to the girl and spoke.

  James watched her face while Tom talked, and his message seemed to bring peace to her soul. She lowered her tight kept shoulders, and her hands returned to their normal color as she loosened those clenched fingers.

  Then James wondered why it worried him to feel the pain leaving and the lump of lead dissolving out of his belly.

  ~~~

  James walked out of the church toward where he had left his animals. Tom O’Connor stayed behind, talking animatedly to the priest. The Mexican’s dog scampered out from between two houses and barked joyfully at finding his new master again. James stopped, went down on one knee and scratched the animal’s brown ears.

  His thoughts raced as he greeted the dog. He had to get a proper stock of food supplies before he took the girl home. He couldn’t feed her jerked beef alone. He’d need beans, at least, and maybe some corn meal, so if she knew how to cook she could make those flat corn cakes like Tom’s Rosalinda had given him to eat. Maybe he could take the job working with Angus Campbell’s colts, get them rough broke in a week or two, buy supplies, and be on the trail. But did the girl have any warm clothes? It would probably be November before they reached Ratón Pass, and the weather in the high mountains on the border with New Mexico Territory would likely get cold come wintertime. Tarnation! What if we hit snow? he wondered. I’ve got an extra blanket for a bedroll, but she’s going to freeze in the daytime if that black shawl is all she’s got to wrap up in.

  Tom arrived, and James rose to his feet and untied the horse and mule, and the two men started toward the house.

  “You won’t need the banns,” Tom said.

  “Banns. What’s that mean?”

  Tom squinched up his face. “It’s an announcement in church, sort of a way of cleaning up any objections to a marriage.” He paused to adjust one suspender. “It usually takes several weeks, but the padre said since he’s already published them for Rodríguez, and you’re sort of a replacement, he’ll look on it as a special case. He can hitch you up this evening, and after a day or two, you can be on your way to the Greenhorn Valley, James, boy.”

  James looked at his boot toes for a few steps before answering. “The young lady seems particularly set on having a husband, Tom, any husband. I don’t know what that’s all about. But you said it back in the church: she’s got to go back where she came from.”

  “What do you mean?” Tom asked. He stopped short and grabbed James’s arm.

  The young man came to an abrupt halt and turned to face Tom. “If a few words from me in front of the priest can ease the girl’s mind, they won’t hurt me none. I reckon that’s the only way to get her safe back home. Once I turn her over to her ma, that’s the end of it.”

  Tom stared at James, his mouth open. Then he swore. “The good Father won’t look on it that way, and neither will the girl. You’re takin’ a vow of marriage here, James, boy.”

  “Tom—”

  “These Mexicans take their vows to heart. Oh, the men folks don’t always keep the ‘cleave to only one’ part, but they stay married. What you’re proposing ain’t right at all.” Tom frowned at James for a moment. “I reckon your ma would want you to think mighty hard about that.”

  At the mention of his mother, James’s face turned red and he threw his hands into the air, startling the horse into neighing and shying into the path of the dog. That animal barked and turned to nip at the heels of the mule, which kicked out at the dog.

  As his face grew even redder with embarrassment, James whistled the dog to his side and quieted the animals, then turned again to look at Tom.

  “I’ve parted company with Ma and Pa,” he said, resisting the urge to kick the toe of his boot against a tuft of buffalo grass beside the path. “I figure what I do is purely my own business.”

  Tom looked James up and down, chewing on his cheek.

  James continued. “I didn’t ride into this town seeking a wife. I figure me burying that fellow makes me responsible to see the girl is safe, though, so the vow I’m taking tonight is to get her back to Santa Fe. That’s the honorable thing to do. Once she’s home with her mama, that’ll be the end of my vow.”

  Tom moved his head slightly. “Maybe by then you’ll be fond of her. She is a mighty comely girl. And that name. Amparo. It means shelter, or refuge. You could do worse than to wed a sweet gentle gal like her and gain a shelter place for yourself.”

  James felt like swearing. “I just want to see the girl home, not start a new life with her.” He took a deep breath, ready to curse Tom’s meddling, but he got a good whiff of himself, and while he let out the lungful of foul air, his anger cooled.

  Tom must have seen that a new thought was upon James, for he came up and clapped his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “You think on it, James, boy. I know you’ll do the little lady a justice.”

  James made a wry face as Tom’s hand fell away. “They say Justice is blind, but I reckon she’s got a nose. Where can a man get a bath in this town?”

  Tom’s face split with a grin. “I got a barrel out back you can use, and plenty of cold water in the well. My woman can heat up a couple of buckets, take the chill off. And James, boy, you’d best wear my suit for the marryin’. It’s bigger’n you are, but it’s clean.”

  ~~~

  When the men had gone, Amparo sat alone in the chapel once more, letting the events of the last half hour flood over her. Her bridegroom was dead—another had taken his place. A shudder shook her frame, and she bit her lip.

  Madre de Dios, he is Anglo. He does not speak my language. Amparo fingered the smooth wooden beads of her mother’s rosary. Yet...he has a kind aspect. There is strength in the shape of his face, but there is gentleness in his eyes. She held the cross to her cheek, then brought it to her lips and kissed it. Beloved Mother, if I must marry a stranger—and that is my vow—can there be some little hope for tenderness? Can he come to care for me?

  The girl clasped her hands under her bowed head, slid forward to kneel on the hard wooden prayer bench, and whispered several “Ave Marías”. When she had finished, she rose from the bench and left the pew.

  Amparo looked for the priest in his room at the back of the chapel. He was not there, but she found him at the front door, looking out into the square with a troubled look on his face. She touched his robe, and he turned to her.

  “My Father, the Anglos are gone.”

  “Yes. They will come again later. Little dau
ghter, the young one has agreed to kneel beside you this evening and become your master. I will bless this union with him only if you wish it.” Father Gallegos pursed his lips. “There is rebellion in his soul.”

  Amparo bowed her head so the priest could not see her eyes. Dearest Mary, I think it is pain.

  The priest lifted her chin. “You do not agree? Tell me your heart, little one.”

  Amparo looked up into the kind brown eyes of the padre. “He seems to be a good man, my Father. Although he is a stranger and an Anglo, he felt obligation to tell me of Señor Rodríguez’s death. He does not want me to be alone in a strange place. These things are good.”

  “I wonder if he will accept the burden of marriage for long, my child.”

  The girl looked at the priest for a long time. Without my sacrifice my papá will suffer for eternity, she thought. She looked out at the dusty square, at the women disappearing into their adobe houses, carrying their clean laundry in baskets on their heads. They all have homes, husbands, families. Amparo straightened her shoulders.

  “I have come a long distance, my Father. There is nothing for me at home. I will give myself to the Anglo and pray that I will not be a burden to him.”

  The priest touched Amparo on the forehead. “You are young, my child. He is young. Where there is youth, there is hope. Go now and prepare.”

  Amparo bent her head and kissed the priest’s hand. Then she walked toward the tiny storage room that had become her refuge. She closed the door behind her and leaned on it.

  Holy Mother, there is a stirring within me. Almost, I feel happy, almost, I feel at peace. Let this feeling lift me up and sustain me, Blessed Mary, for this night I must go to the Anglo’s bed.

  ~~~

  James tied the whining dog by the door of the barn, then took a quick look around the space behind Tom’s house—between it, the blacksmith shop, and the barn—before he shucked off his winter underwear and climbed into the cold water in the barrel. Too bad it ain’t full dark yet. This isn’t my notion of a fit place to bathe, in the open yard in front of all God’s angels. But it was his only chance to get clean, so he got to it, lifting a bucket from the ground and sloshing part of the water in it over his head.

  The liquid warmed him as it ran down his face, finding little paths through his beard. A portion of it got into his mouth, and he tasted the bitter alkali of the plains mixed with oil from his hair. James spit sideways, and poured the rest of the water from the bucket over himself.

  Rosalinda had provided a new bar of soap. James picked it up, got it wet, and ran it across his body, rubbing it hard into the tangle of black hair that covered his chest. Then he ran the soap block down his arms, ignoring the twinges of pain the action brought on as he passed over the wounds in his left arm. The smell of the lather rose sharply in his nostrils, an odor that seemed as yellow as the bubbles.

  All at once the dog began barking, stiff legs planted apart and pulling the rope tight. James ignored the animal.

  He was enjoying the slippery feel of getting clean, soaping his neck and face, when a female voice behind him asked, “What happened to your side?”

  James almost tipped the barrel over, ducking down so fast behind the staves. “Who’s that?” he yelled, feeling the prick of an oak splinter entering his knee. The dog quit barking and wagged its tail, letting its tongue loll out from between its jaws.

  All James heard for a moment was footsteps crunching on a patch of gravelly rock as whoever it was came around to the front of the barrel. James hunched over, shivering from the surprise as much as from the cold, until Tom’s little girl came into sight, flinging one braid over a shoulder.

  “It’s me,” she said, calm as a freezing night in deep winter. “You look funny, hidin’ in there.”

  “Tarnation!” James’s inclination was to add a few more words in a harsher vein, but he restrained himself. “Get away from here, Rida!” Soap bubbles flew out from his moustache as he yelled.

  The girl’s foot twisted back and forth in the dirt. “You’re not very polite. You didn’t heed me when I told you not to go visiting.”

  “That’s so,” he shouted. “I was plainly rude. Now, get along.”

  “I forgive you.” She bent over and snatched at his clothes. “I’ll take these to the square and wash them for you.”

  James lunged for the clothes, but the barrel tipped like it meant to go over, and he rocked back in a hurry. By then, Rida had his shirt, trousers, and underwear behind her back.

  “Phew!” She twitched her nose. “You been rolling in the horse stalls? These duds stink something fierce.” The girl held her nose with her finger and thumb.

  “That’s honest sweat,” James growled. “Got it burying a dead man.”

  “Ohhhh,” she moaned, shuddering. “Keep your smelly old things.” She flung the clothes at him and ran away around the house.

  James glared at the dog laying relaxed in the dust. He muttered “Traitor!” then made haste to soap up, wash down, and climb from the barrel. He grabbed a piece of sack towel to wrap around the important parts before anyone came to see what all the yelling was about, then he dashed to Tom’s blacksmith shop so he could dress inside the safety of four walls.

  Chapter 11

  I’m not sure about the rest of it, but this must be the tie that binds.

  James knelt before the mission altar with a silken sash wound about his neck and that of the girl, Amparo. It seemed the priest talked on and on, speaking in a tongue James didn’t know, saying words he didn’t want to hear.

  Pretty gold fringe, he thought, tucking down his chin to see the ends of the sash. Rosalinda’s folks must be well off. Good of her to lend the sash to us. I wish this was done with. I need some air.

  Then his chest snapped up straight as James noticed the priest gazing at him. He raised his chin and said, “I resolve to be her bridegroom till I get her home safe.”

  The good father looked a question at Tom, who shrugged his shoulders and nodded. Then while the priest worked his way through the girl’s part, James let his shoulders sag backward, and he looked her over.

  Kneeling down, the top of the girl’s head came up even with his chin. She wore a little white lace kerchief perched on top of her hair, her black shawl over her shoulders, then a well fitted yellow satin dress with a couple of green bows on the skirt. Must have cost her mama dearly, he thought. She twisted her hands together in front of the skirt, then let loose of one hand with the other, and plucked at one of the bows.

  She’s a mite nervous herself, he thought.

  James looked up as the girl began to recite her vows with a great deal of earnestness, and he watched the artificial flowers woven into the twists of hair at the back of her head shake back and forth as she spoke.

  This quiet looking gal’s got a fire to her, underneath, like a frisky yearling. James’s eyes took in the black shawl draped under the sash. Amparo breathed deep and fast as she recited, which made the black stuff rise and fall over her bosom. He felt a prick of excitement and fisted his hands.

  Pretty girl, don’t go breathing like that, he admonished her silently. I’m just a country boy, and mighty human. Then the girl was silent, and turned her face toward James.

  Hush my mouth, them eyes are big as doorknobs. James’s heart drummed in his chest like horse’s hooves on a hardpan road, as he got lost in eyes bright as the moon and dark as the bottom of a dry well. Then he caught a movement with the tail of his eye. It was the priest holding his palm out, and James wondered what he wanted. By and by he remembered the ring in his pocket, so he dug it out and put it in the holy man’s hand. The priest held up the ring and said a few words over it, then gave it back to James.

  He swallowed four or five times, looking at the designs worked into the gold ring and hefting it in his hand. Then he touched it with the tip of his finger. It was warm, and the edge was as smooth as window glass on a sunny day. He stroked it a couple of times until the girl gave him a nudge with her elbow. T
urning to her, James recalled what the ring was for when he looked down at the fingers of one of her hands, spread apart in front of her yellow skirt.

  James glanced up at Amparo’s eyes, and she looked steadily back at him. The look was so intense that he had to shift his gaze and swallow all over again. He fumbled a bit with the ring, almost dropped it on the piece of red carpet underneath them, but got it on her finger at last. The priest moved his arm over the couple in benediction, saying some more words all the while, then the ceremony was done, and he motioned for them to rise up and stand.

  Tom stepped forward, ready to shake hands with James. His hard palm felt cool, and James lost some of the tightness binding his shoulders under the sash.

  “There. That didn’t hurt at all, James, boy. You’re lucky to wed such a fine, pretty woman.”

  “Just to Santa Fe,” he said, as Tom clapped him on the back.

  “I don’t know if the padre caught that or not. He looks a mite glum, James, boy. This should cheer him up.” Tom pressed a coin into James’s hand.

  The young man slipped the money to the priest, who then seemed quite a bit happier. Father Gallegos gave James the wedding license they’d all signed before the ceremony. Then James unwound the sash from his neck and Amparo’s, handed it to Tom, and took the girl by the elbow as he wondered on what he’d done.

  She’s my wife, signed and sealed. What am I to do but get her to Santa Fe as quick as I can?

  ~~~

  Blessed Virgin, I am the wife of an Anglo, Amparo thought as she rose to her feet. He does smell much better than before. I thought he was a trapper, like those my papá told me about so long ago. Holy Mother, I have done my part. I beseech thee, pray that my sacrifice be worthy in the sight of thy Holy Son.

  Amparo cast her eyes sideways and watched James as he shook hands with the other Anglo. I wonder what he thinks of me? He hardly looks at me. Maybe I am ugly in his sight. Please, let that not be! If he hates me, he will not be gentle!

  ~~~

  James and Amparo walked to Tom’s house, where Rosalinda had got together with some of her neighbors to put on a wedding meal and party for the young couple. James stood back, not of a mind to celebrate what seemed an empty thing, but he had no other place to go, so he stayed and played the part of bridegroom, and gave the ear adornments to Amparo when Tom suggested it. That was worth something to him, for the girl gave him a smile, the first he had seen on her face.