by Marian Wells
Amy took a deep breath. “And you’re a parson. So I guess we’re safe, and tomorrow we can begin to look for Mother and Father.”
“Triple safe. I have my wife with me.” He came to tousle her hair and kiss her ear.
The first ray of sunshine had drawn a bright square on the splintery floor when Daniel propped himself on his elbow and leaned over Amy. “I’ve been thinking. Since we’re so safe, might be a good idea to linger around a day or so. Get some idea of where the troops are right now. Could be helpful for several reasons, since we’ll be heading toward Fort Union.”
Amy yawned and stroked Daniel’s face. “What’s the other reason?”
“The possibility of some unexpected surprises on the trail I’m not interested in having. Also, I’m going to be making inquiries about a middle-aged parson and his wife traveling in this end to the territory.”
Amy had just finished washing the dishes when Daniel returned. “I’ve discovered our lady’s name is Dolores; her husband is Manuel. More coins in the palm made us welcome for a few more days. But I still have the feeling our being here makes them a little uneasy.”
“Then why did she invite us?”
“Money, plus the old habit of making everyone welcome.” Daniel came to help her fold the blankets. “I think it would be wise to go back to the town square. Let’s walk; we may have a better chance to get acquainted.”
“I’ll take this jug for water,” Amy said, picking up the pottery vessel. “My bathing and the dishes took the last of the water.”
“Lady, begging your pardon, but I’d be glad to carry it for you.”
“You! A beanpole with maple leaves for hair—” Amy squealed as Daniel picked her up in his arms and swung her around.
“Water lady. How I wanted to tease you like this back then, but I didn’t dare touch your hand with Aunt Maude lurking in the bushes.”
“Oh, Daniel, my beanpole! You are terrible to talk that way.” She wound her arms around his neck as he tried to set her on her feet.
“Would be almost too easy to forget why we’re in New Mexico, at least for today.”
“I would like that,” Amy murmured. “It seems life has just thrown us back in the middle of everything all too soon.”
“I promise you, my sweetheart, when we find the folks—when we can breathe easy over them, we’ll have some real time to ourselves, even if we have to climb Pikes Peak to be alone.”
Amy smiled up at Daniel. “Silly, huh? We are forgetting we have the rest of our lives to be together.”
The sunlight was sparkling on a spring-fresh day when Daniel and Amy walked into Santa Fe. Looking down the street, they saw wagons pulled by mules clopping toward the town square. The men and women and children swarming through the streets scattered as the wagons approached.
“Most of them are Mexican, aren’t they? Look at the beautiful dresses, all that embroidery. Aren’t the children darling, those black eyes and—”
“Bare bottoms,” Daniel chuckled. “The fashion speaks well of the climate.”
Amy stopped abruptly. “Last night I wondered why the town seemed so strange, even frightening. Daniel, do you remember? Last night there wasn’t anyone on the streets except Dolores. I wonder why? It was only early evening.”
“That is so,” Daniel said slowly. She noticed his troubled frown was back. But then he smiled and reached for her arm.
As they walked farther he said, “Looks like the town square has been turned into a market. Only they call it a plaza instead of a square.”
“Oh,” Amy whispered, “look at the embroidery! Daniel, please, just for a few minutes,” she pleaded.
“Go ahead. I’ll keep my eyes on your sunbonnet,” Daniel murmured as he turned to scan the crowded plaza. When he looked back he saw Amy mingling with the women around the stall draped with colorful shawls. Spotting the line of wagons and weary mules on the far side of the plaza, he headed for them.
As he approached the wagon loaded with heavy barrels, the driver pushed his dusty hat off his forehead and turned. The man was white, and his steel-blue eyes narrowed when he saw Daniel. “Nothing here for the market; this is supplies for the fort.”
“Come in over the Santa Fe Trail?” Daniel asked.
The man gnawed at a plug of tobacco before drawling, “Hardly. The Feds got it under guard. Came up from Fort Bliss.” With a quick hard look at Daniel, he turned away.
If he’d spelled Confederacy I wouldn’t have been better informed, Daniel thought, deliberately slowing his steps as he sauntered to the well before he turned to study the mass of people. His eyes sought out the bobbing pink bonnet in the midst of the embroidered shawls.
“Interesting old building, isn’t it?” The voice came from behind him. Daniel turned and felt the shock coursing through his body. The speaker continued. “El Palacio Real. It’s called the Palace of the Governors, and I’m certain it was of palace proportions when it was built. That was in 1610. One of the curious old places tourists seek out. Parson, I’m surprised to see you here. Has the Methodist Episcopal Church ventured into New Mexico or”—the man hesitated—“is this a pleasure trip?”
Keeping his voice even, Daniel responded, “Lucas Tristram, I believe. To answer your question, the church is always seeking new territory, and this is hardly a pleasure trip.”
“I’m relieved to hear that,” the man’s eyes mocked Daniel. “Since Fort Marcy has been taken and Albuquerque is in enemy hands, I would suppose New Mexico isn’t much of a pleasure right now.”
Daniel nearly questioned the statement, but from the corner of his eye he could see the pink sunbonnet bobbing closer. Hastily he said, “It’s always good to see someone from the territory. Have a pleasant journey.” Quickly he extended his hand and then strode rapidly toward the bobbing bonnet.
Amy saw the handshake. She stopped in the shade of the oaks, blinking with surprise as she studied the square shoulders covered by the smooth broadcloth. Was it possible? What was Lucas Tristram doing in New Mexico Territory? As Daniel approached, she was ready to ask the question of him, but she saw his frown and his tightly compressed lips. Her heart sank. Must Lucas always shadow our lives? she wondered. Quickly she led the way out of the market.
When she slipped her arm through Daniel’s and smiled up at him, she recalled Daniel’s encounter with Lucas in Central City. Less than three months ago—hardly time enough for Lucas’s barbed remarks to have disappeared from Daniel’s mind.
Silently they walked back through the woods. Amy bit her lip. There was something else. The gift. Lucas had promised to do something for the church in Oro City. Her heart sank as she remembered her impulsive acceptance.
Of course I should have consulted Daniel before accepting. She prayed, Please Father, don’t let it be something that will hurt Daniel.
Daniel stirred as if suddenly recalling her presence. “Oh, sorry. I’ve been thinking I should visit Manuel again and try to get a little more information.”
“More? What did you find out today?”
“That the Confederates have taken Albuquerque and the Federal Quartermaster has fled. That north of here the Santa Fe Trail is still in the hands of the Union, and the only supplies reaching the Confederates are coming in from Texas.”
“Daniel,” Amy said slowly, “while I was looking at the shawls, I overheard two women talking. They were white women and they were angry because the Indian agent here in Santa Fe has given all the food supplies meant for the Indians to the Confederates.”
“Amigo.” It was Manuel, smiling as he faced them on the trail.
“Manuel!” Daniel exclaimed, “I want to speak with you.”
“And I wish to speak to you.” He fell in step with them and politely asked, “Have you had a good day visiting the sights of Santa Fe?”
“Yes, we have, but I have heard some things that bother me,” Daniel said.
The smile disappeared from Manuel’s face. “Amigo, the forest may have ears. Do you wish to talk
about it later?” Daniel nodded and the man continued. “I will come to you.”
They reached the edge of the clearing. With his lazy smile in place, Manuel turned into his house.
When supper was over and the fire had settled into rosy, glowing coals, they heard the thump on the door. Amy moved toward the door. Sharply Daniel said, “Stay there. I’ll answer it.”
With a shrug she went to pull the benches close to the light of the fire. Manuel came into the house. “I have another white amigo—Hal.” Amy turned to watch a slender man limp into the house, wincing with pain.
He was nearly as tall as Daniel, and much thinner. The thick thatch of hair on his head shone like silver in the pale light. Amy saw the perspiration on his face as he lowered himself to the bench and dropped the crude crutch beside him.
“My friend Manuel told me there was another gringo in camp and since time is heavy on my hands, I thought I would pay a visit.”
Daniel settled on the opposite bench and Amy said, “I will make coffee.”
“Please, ma’am, I won’t impose. I’ve brought a jug of housewine. Manuel’s house. Not bad at all.”
“Feel free to accommodate yourself,” Daniel said. “I am an elder in the Methodist Episcopal Church, and we—”
“So, a parson!” The man’s keen eyes brightened. “We will have more in common than I supposed. I enjoy the books myself. Do you read the classics? I must introduce myself. Please call me Hal.”
It was very late when Daniel closed the door behind their guests. Amy watched his face as he came back to the fire. “Daniel, you look very strange. What is troubling you?”
He glanced up. “That man. I am wondering what he wants. And who he is. This, my dear wife, was the most baffling evening I have ever spent in the pursuit of nothing.”
“Poor man,” Amy murmured as she moved the benches away from the fire. “He seemed so pale and ill. I can’t believe he could enjoy himself enough to stay half the night. Do you suppose he has an injury to that leg? It was hard to tell.”
“That was my guess,” Daniel said, adding, “and neither do I understand his visit.”
“At times I had the feeling he was testing you—like a teacher would. Do you suppose he is wanting to offer you a position as pastor of a church—”
Daniel laughed. “A big one in a city far from Colorado? Amy!”
“Daniel, I am only guessing, I—”
He caught her close. “There, don’t cry. I know. You’ll grit your teeth and determine to be happy in Colorado. My dear. My brave little dear, don’t pretend so hard!”
“Daniel, it isn’t pretending—I am trying! And Colorado is beautiful.”
He cuddled her close and whispered, “I tease when I shouldn’t. No more tonight. It’s late and you are tired. Come, my precious one, tomorrow will arrive all too soon.”
It was early when Daniel awakened. Thinking of Amy’s tears, he turned to look at her. She was sleeping peacefully, with one hand cupped under her cheek. He smiled and yawned.
The sky had just begun to lighten, and Daniel was considering more sleep when he heard the crunch of footsteps outside the door. He turned his head toward the window and saw the shadow outlined against the sky.
Moving cautiously he eased himself out of the tangle of blankets as he heard the scratch at the door. “Amigo!”
“Manuel!” Daniel scooped up his clothing and slipped through the door. “What do you want at this—”
The man was shaking his head, murmuring, “Come.”
As Daniel pulled on his clothes, he asked, “Where? I’m not leaving Amy alone.” The man moved his head impatiently and pointed to the farthest cottage. “I’ll get Amy.”
“I’m here.” Her voice came from the doorway and Daniel saw she was shrouded in a blanket. “Is Hal sick?”
Manuel hesitated, then nodded vigorously. Turning, he set off across the courtyard and they followed.
In the dimly lighted cottage they could see the white-haired man propped into a sitting position on the bed. He spoke as they entered. “Daniel, Mrs. Gerrett, I am sorry to trouble you this way.”
“You’re ill, we’ll be glad to help—”
“No, there’s nothing to be done.” He struggled to lean forward. “You were very patient with me last night. It wasn’t a game. All of this was because I am beginning to realize I need an ally. Forgive me for taking so much of your time.” He winced as he added, “This leg is taking too long to heal. I hoped there would be more time together, but I am afraid not …” His voice trailed off.
“You’re dying!” Amy dropped to her knees beside him.
“No, my dear Mrs. Gerrett, I’m not dying. It’s—” He paused and looked at Manuel.
After the man slipped out the door and carefully closed it behind himself, Hal continued. “Manuel is my guard. He will alert us.” Again he hesitated; then he apologized, “I didn’t expect troop movement so soon. I was hoping—but it has been a year now, and they are getting impatient.”
He looked up into Daniel’s face and said, “I was injured at the battle of Valverde in February. They don’t know I’m alive. Unfortunately, I can’t run my own errands.”
“They?” Daniel questioned. “Do you mean—”
“The Confederates. Daniel, may I entrust you with a message? You have a legitimate reason to be heading for Las Vegas and I’m in dire need of a messenger.” He shifted his body and winced. “I can tell you of a trail that will put you through safely and quickly. But more than anything, I need someone who can be trusted.”
“I don’t quite understand,” Daniel said slowly.
“I’ve been informed of new troop movement. Under Sibley, that traitor to the Union. Scoundrel! Briefly he was commanding officer at Fort Union last year.
“As soon as he and some of his prime officers heard of the battle at Fort Sumter, they pulled out. Taking as many of the enlisted men as they could, they went to Richmond. Now he’s back and in charge of the Texas Volunteers.”
The man shook his head ruefully and added, “I can thank him for the hole in my leg. Now, this old soldier is down, but still fighting. Boy, will you be my legs and carry a message for me?
“The welfare of New Mexico and Colorado territories will depend on this getting through. No blue uniform would have a chance of surviving the mission, but a Methodist Episcopal preacher will do just fine.”
Back in their hut Amy and Daniel faced each other. Daniel watched Amy tighten the folds of the blanket around her neck. His attention was on that white-knuckled hand grasping the blanket as he said, “Amy, I don’t know what to do with you. I’m convinced—”
“You’ll do nothing except take me along, just as you have been doing. He needs help and we must find Mother and Father.”
“They will be found. We’re all in the middle of this war now. Mother and Father, as well as the two of us.”
“War,” she shivered. In the next moment, she dropped the blanket and began dressing quickly. “Daniel, we have cold beans and bread; shall we eat as we ride?”
Chapter 11
Daniel finished tying the bedroll to Amy’s mare. He turned as she came out the door and carefully closed it behind her. “You need not be so quiet.” He jerked his head. “Hear that? Sounds like half of Santa Fe is shooting it up in the plaza.”
Amy stopped and cocked her head. “I do hear something. But it sounds like men cheering. Do you suppose it’s a fiesta?”
“I don’t know, but let’s have a look before we take Hal’s trail out of town.” He lifted Amy into the saddle and watched as she shook her wide skirt over the tips of her shoes. “Maybe those bloomers wouldn’t be a bad idea after all.”
“What would the bishop say?” Amy teased. She leaned over to touch his face. “No matter—skirts and sidesaddles are a small price to pay.” He studied her serene face and recalled the tears of the previous evening. He was still shaking his head as he followed Amy into the woods.
The clamor from the town plaza grew
in intensity as they entered the village. Daniel drew even with Amy and leaned toward her. “Amy,” he kept his voice low, “I don’t like what I’m seeing.”
“Where are all the people?” she whispered. “The streets are empty. Are they all in the plaza?”
He shook his head. “That’s bothering me, too. Let’s turn down this lane. We can approach the plaza from behind those trees.” He led the way. When they reached the end of the lane, the clamor of voices abruptly ceased.
Glancing quickly at Amy, he guided his horse into the plaza. An array of backs faced him. The significance of that line of gray shoulders registered at the same moment he saw the focus of their attention.
Slowly, majestically a flag was being hoisted over the Palace of the Governors. Caps were snatched off and every face was lifted. Daniel studied the flag. The brilliant red field was slashed by a blue cross studded with thirteen white stars.
Amy’s mare nudged close to his and Daniel muttered, “Let’s get out of here; that’s the Confederate battle flag. Just go slow. Act as if it isn’t important.”
As they turned their horses, Daniel could see the line of townspeople clustered around the well. Black lace mantillas were crowded close to the faded cotton of peasant frocks. Most of the faces wore a pattern of mild curiosity and something nearly like indifference.
Keeping their horses to a slow walk, they crossed the square to the lane. Just as they left the plaza, an excited rumble moved through the line of gray-clad soldiers. Daniel glanced over his shoulder. A cortege of Confederate officers appeared under the portico of the palace. “Let’s move out,” he murmured.
Amy flicked the reins and turned her white face to Daniel. As she nodded, he saw her press her lips tightly together. Daniel nudged his mare into a trot and they headed up the steep road toward the mountains.
The clamor of the crowd was behind them when Amy pulled her horse even with Daniel. “I really didn’t believe all I heard until I saw that flag. Daniel, those men were cheering as if it were the most wonderful thing in the world.”
