Nina blinked back tears. “Gracias, Carmell. I have had many questions. I was afraid someone like you would laugh at me.”
The woman smiled warmly, taking the basket from Nina and setting it down. “Never, mi chica,” she said, giving her a hug. “You can come and talk to me anytime.” She pulled back. “But you must tell me, has there never been a young man who stirred your heart and made you wonder if you could be a woman after all? Never even a little kiss?”
Again Nina thought of Clay Youngblood. How could she tell the woman she had been kissed by a gringo lieutenant, of all men, after saying how much she hated such men? “No,” she answered.
Carmell eyed her closely. “I am not so sure you are telling me the truth. If you decide to tell me, I will be here.”
Nina smiled bashfully. “There is nothing to tell,” she answered. She bent to pick up the basket, then hesitated. “Well, perhaps…”
Carmell laughed and grasped her hands. “Come! I want to hear!” She led Nina to the edge of the bed, its mattress now bare. “How can I help you if you do not tell me everything?” she insisted.
Nina touched her hair, needing so badly to talk. “Do you promise not to tell my brother about my feelings? He would be upset. I mean, he knows about the kiss, and the reason for it, but he does not know that I have never forgotten, or that I think of this man often.”
Carmell squeezed her hands. “I swear on the Holy Mother that I will never tell Emilio. Your feelings are special to you, and I honor them.”
Nina met her eyes. “He was a gringo, the last man I ever thought I could have fond feelings for. An American soldier!”
Carmell’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “A gringo soldier! Nina! You just told me how much you hate them!”
“Sí. But this one…” Nina spilled out her story, and Carmell studied her closely as she told about the kiss. “He was just teasing me…using me,” she told Carmell. “I know I should hate him for it, but something about it…I think he truly wanted me. And I have never been able to forget.”
Carmell drew in a deep breath. “Oh, Nina, it sounds so romantic. The way you describe him, he must be so handsome! It is too bad you will never see him again.”
Nina nodded, looking at her lap. “By now he has probably been sent someplace else, far away. Perhaps he is even out of the Army and has gone back to that place called Pennsylvania.”
“Perhaps. But I think that would make him sad because his wife died there. He said no more about her, or if she had ever given him children?”
“No. There was no time to talk much, and at the time I was angry with him. I wanted to talk to him, yet I was upset that I had such feelings for him. I did not want to have them. Now, as you say, I will never see him again.”
Carmell put an arm around her shoulders. “But now you know that you can have such feelings, that it can feel good to be held in a man’s arms and to feel him kissing you, no? You even know now that even a gringo can make you feel this way. Just knowing that much should tell you that you are defeating your own fears and bad memories, Nina. Think of the good things, not the bad. It is not wrong to keep the memory of that kiss.”
Nina sighed. “I know that now. But to keep the memory means keeping the memory of a man I will never see again. I do not understand why it hurts so much to know that.”
Carmell patted her shoulder. “It hurts because you know it is possible you could have loved the blue-eyed soldier and that maybe he could have loved you, if things had been different. Perhaps he is having the same problem trying to forget you.” The woman drew in her breath and rose. “Maybe he will even come looking for you! Did you ever think of that?”
Nina smiled sadly and shook her head, also rising. “No. He would not waste his time with a Mexican horse thief. He has cast aside the memory of me by now. He will look for a woman of his own race. He might not even be ready for that. He still seemed sad over the loss of his wife.”
Carmell let out a long, sad sigh, the romance of it all making her nostalgic. “Ah, Nina, such a lovely memory you have, though. I envy you, still so innocent. Someday you will know a great and lasting love, I am sure of it.”
Nina smiled then, walking back to her basket and picking it up. “In the meantime I have a wash to do.” She met the woman’s eyes. “Remember your promise.”
“Sí, I will remember. Your secret is safe. And do not be afraid to talk to me again. It feels good to talk to you. I feel honored that you chose me to tell.”
Nina felt a little embarrassed. “I am just glad we could talk. I feel better now.”
“Good. And you let me know if any of the men in this place ever gives you trouble. He will have to answer to me!”
“I think Emilio would get to him first.”
“Sí, you are right.” The woman frowned. “Emilio talks of returning to stealing horses. What will you do then, Nina?”
Nina’s smile also faded. “I am not sure. Emilio is all I have. I go where he goes.”
“The lieutenant was right, you know. You should not go back to that life.”
Nina sighed. “Emilio has learned much. We want our own ranch, in California. There is much money in selling horses.”
“I do not like the idea. I have told Emilio many times he should stop, but I am afraid your brother does not do it just for the money. I think it is in his blood, Nina. Remember that if you stay with him, and he is hanged, you will hang beside him. There will not always be someone like the lieutenant who sympathizes with you, not when it comes to stealing horses.”
Nina’s heart felt heavy again. “I know.” She turned away. “We will talk again, Carmell.” She smiled at the woman and left, setting down the basket and picking up another with a yellow ribbon. She walked to the door to Juanita’s room. From the sounds she heard inside, she knew she had better not enter just yet. She headed downstairs with the other two baskets, wondering if Carmell was right. Could being with a man really be enjoyable? Perhaps, with someone like the lieutenant, but he was gone, and she had more important things to think about. Emilio was getting more restless every day.
Emilio finished brushing down a customer’s horse while Nina hung some clothes to dry behind the tavern. Both of them watched a gang of men who had ridden in moments earlier, herding several handsome horses into a nearby corral. They apparently had permission from the tavern owner, Stan Owen, to use the pen. Owen catered to men who trickled into this southernmost outpost of the Outlaw Trail. He knew most of them were running from the law, dealing in stolen goods, but it mattered little to him, as long as they had money to pay for their whiskey.
Nina straightened from a laundry basket, watching the beautiful horses for a moment. She sometimes missed riding free herself on the open range, capturing wild mustangs, she thought as she watched the men from behind a sheet. She had been around such men enough to know that they had most likely stolen these horses and were on their way to Mexico to sell them. They whistled and shouted as they urged the handsome steeds into the corral, one of them laughing about what a good haul they had taken this time. They closed the gate, most of them dismounting to sit on top of the fence and watch the horses.
“They’re beautiful!” another said. “We’ll make good money on them, especially that black. She’s strong and fast.”
Emilio left the horse he was tending, walking cautiously closer to the men. Nina knew that he, too, suspected the horses were stolen. Her chest tightened, for she knew Emilio had been itching to get back into the trade he loved. What should she do then? She didn’t want to be alone, nor did she like the idea of Emilio riding out with outlaws to an unknown fate. She should be with him. It was only right.
“Buenos días, amigos,” Emilio called out to the men.
Nina noticed two of them were Mexican, the other four gringos. “Buenos días, señor,” one of the Mexican men answered.
“May I come and look at your horses?” Emilio asked. “They are fine-looking animals.”
The men seemed frie
ndly enough. “Come and see,” the same Mexican man told him. He was older, quite stocky, while the other Mexican was much younger, and handsome, like Emilio.
Emilio climbed up on the fence, and much talk and laughter took place. Nina caught a word here and there: “mustangs”; “changed brands”; “easy job.” Someone asked where a man could get a drink of good whiskey, another asked where the best-looking whores could be found. Emilio indicated the Pecos Tavern on both counts. He offered to take care of their riding horses. He had been making good money off men for taking care of their horses, and Nina had hoped that what he made, along with his regular work, would be enough money to satisfy Emilio, but she feared that was not the case.
The men obliged, but they told Emilio to wait. Their leader was going to try to ride the wildest horse from among the mustangs. A tall, slim gringo of thirty-five or forty opened the gate and rode inside the corral, singling out a sturdy gray-and-white stallion. Nina suspected the horse was not the master of a herd of mares, but he was feisty enough when it came to being tamed. The man determined to ride him had a difficult time getting a rope on the animal. When he finally snared the stallion, he led the rearing, snorting horse to a separate pen where there were no other horses.
“You sure you want to do this, Mike?” one of the others called out.
The one called Mike slapped his horse’s rump and sent it out of the corral, then closed the gate and eyed the wild mustang. “Hell, yes! And I don’t need a bridle or a saddle. I’ll just ride him bareback and use the rope that’s already around his neck.”
“You’re takin’ an awful risk!” another put in.
A few more men chuckled, and Emilio hurried over to the corral to watch the show. “Can he really do it?” he asked the others, who had all climbed up onto the corral fence to watch.
“Mike Billings is the best,” one of them answered, not even looking at Emilio. “If he can’t ride that thing, nobody can.”
Nina moved closer herself but still kept a distance. She darted behind a shed to watch from around the corner. The men seemed amiable enough, although crude in their dress and language. She did not sense any danger, in spite of the fact that most of them were gringos, and Emilio seemed to be enjoying himself perhaps because there were at least two Mexicans among the men.
“Every time we capture a few mustangs, Mike always rides the wildest one soon as we get to a town,” another told Emilio. “Kind of his way of celebrating the rest of our take before he lights into the booze and the whores.”
Several of them hooted and whistled, making jokes about betting on how long the man called Mike Billings would stay on the horse. Nina was herself curious to see. She moved near a big, low-hanging mesquite. Mike climbed up on the fence, and one of the other men got hold of the rope and led the snorting, scuffling stallion to where Mike sat.
“He’s all yours, boss,” he told the man.
Mike removed his gunbelt and handed it to one of the Mexicans, then grasped the mane of the wild horse, jumping onto its back and taking the rope from the man who held it. At first the horse just stood motionless, as though surprised, but after three or four seconds it went into a wild fit of arching and kicking and snorting. It bucked and squealed in a mixture of anger and fright.
Nina moved cautiously closer, her curiosity getting the better of her. Before she knew it, she was standing next to the fence, the men so engrossed in watching their leader that none of them noticed her. She agreed with the comment that the man called Mike was good at breaking mustangs, but this one was the wildest she had ever seen, and Mike’s undeniable skill was not enough to stay on such a horse. After what Nina figured was seven or eight seconds, Mike Billings went flying, landing hard on his back.
He lay still, staring wide-eyed, and Nina suspected the breath had been knocked out of him. The mustang headed for him, eyes on fire, its nostrils flaring, its mouth frothing with anger. The man who had held the horse while Mike got on had already exited the corral, and no one seemed ready to move in and help. Nina could see the mustang meant to land its hooves into the one called Mike and stomp him to death, and for the moment Mike apparently could not move.
Before any of the other men could react, Emilio had jumped off the fence and charged at the mustang. As he grabbed the rope to urge it away from Mike, the horse reared, turning on Emilio and walking toward him on its hind legs, its front feet flailing in the air. Emilio spoke to the animal soothingly in Spanish, and Nina, afraid for her brother, wriggled through the slats of the fencing and hurried to his side, joining him in trying to calm the horse.
Two other men, finally startled into action, jumped down and grabbed Mike’s arms, dragging him toward the gate. Someone else quickly opened it, and the two men pulled a gasping Mike outside while the third man locked the gate. One of them bent over Mike in concern, while the rest quickly clambered back onto the fence to watch the young Mexican man and woman calm the mustang with amazing ease.
“Did you ever see anything like that?” one of them commented.
“I sure haven’t,” another replied, but he was not thinking about how well Emilio managed the wild horse. His eyes were glued to Nina.
Mike managed to get his breath, cussing over his rare defeat.
“Don’t worry about it, boss,” one of the men helping him said. He tried to assist Mike to his feet, but the man shook him off.
“That thing was ready to kill me!” Mike growled. He climbed back onto the fence, his expression changing when he saw Emilio and Nina stroking the mustang’s neck. All six men quickly moved their attention from the horse to the woman.
“Those two saved your life, Mike,” one of the others told him. “A few more seconds and he’d have caved in your chest. Before we could react, that Mexican kid and the woman there were inside the corral and drawing the mustang’s attention away from you. I thought for a minute there it was going to attack the young man, but then the woman stepped in and he calmed right down.”
Mike took a couple of deep breaths, his back aching. “Hey, kid, come over here!” he called out to Emilio.
Emilio left the horse, but Nina remained beside it, realizing only then the attention she had drawn. She kept her eyes on the horse, talking to the animal soothingly, petting its nose, hoping there would be no trouble with the outlaws.
“Sí, señor?” Emilio asked.
Mike leaned over and put out a hand. “You just saved my life, you and your wife over there.”
Emilio was not fond of shaking a gringo’s hand, but he had learned to accept some of these men over the months he had been in El Paso. At the moment he was not as concerned that they were gringos as he was with the fact that they might be horse thieves. He had been looking for a way back into that life. Perhaps this was it, even though these men were white Americans. If there were two Mexican men with them, they couldn’t be all bad. Maybe they had connections with others who bought stolen horses.
“She is not my wife, señor,” he answered, shaking Mike’s hand. “She is my sister.”
One of the Mexican men gave out words of appreciation for her beauty that would be more fitting for a loose woman.
“I sure hope she works above the tavern,” another of the men put in.
Nina felt the old dread, and Emilio stepped back, scowling. “My sister is a proper lady,” he warned them. “She has nothing to do with that kind of thing. You will all set your eyes on the whores inside, not on my sister!”
“All right, all right,” Mike agreed, grinning. He turned to the others. “These two risked their lives to save mine. That’s more than any of you morons did. If the kid says to leave his sister alone, then leave her alone. She’s a lady, so treat her like one.”
Nina was surprised at the remark, coming from a gringo. She remained at a distance, saying nothing. The one called Mike looked at Emilio as he brushed dust from his shirt and pants. “Kid, I’m Mike Billings, and these men here work for me.” He pointed to his left and went through the line. “Carlos Baca, Johnny
Lane, Greg Lions, Al Kinkade, and Santos Rodriguez.”
The men all nodded and smiled. Nina thought how different they were from Jess Humes and his men. They seemed to have no animosity toward Mexicans, and seemed to respect a man’s wishes.
“I am called Emilio Juarez,” Emilio replied. He motioned toward his sister. “This is Nina. We both work at the tavern. My sister washes clothes and does mending for the women upstairs, but it is as I said. She is a proper lady and is still a señorita. Any man who annoys or makes trouble for her dies.”
Mike’s eyebrows arched, and the others grinned good-naturedly as their leader jumped down from the fence. “Well, I’m not going to test you on that one, Emilio. You just saved my life. Whatever you want, that’s fine with me. Your sister, too. You’ll get no trouble from us. Why don’t you come inside and we’ll buy you a whiskey.” The man looked over at Nina. “You’d better get out of this corral, ma’am. Can’t be sure how long that horse will stay calm.”
Nina nodded, quickly scurrying through the fence. She hurried back to her laundry basket, wishing she had not let herself be seen but realizing she had had no choice. She watched as Emilio walked with the rest of the men into the tavern, Mike Billings’s arm around him.
“So, Emilio,” she said softly, “you have found what you have been waiting for.” She could tell Emilio already liked these men. Somehow, in changing from boy to man, he had gone beyond stealing horses for vengeance. It had become a pleasure for him. She had seen by his eyes when he talked about missing that life that he wanted it back. If he had to use these gringos to get what he wanted, that was what he would do. She already knew in her heart that her brother would hook up with these men, probably ride off with them. If and when he did, she would either have to go it alone, or join him.
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