by Jeanne Rose
But the girl was moping about the house, thank goodness, not riding for the mountains with all her belongings loaded on a pack animal.
Louisa lay on her bed in a messy attic room strewn with clothing, books, blankets, saddles and bridles.
"Frances!" As soon as she caught sight of her visitor, Louisa jumped up and smiled. "What are you doing here? It's been so long! I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too." She hugged the girl, thinking she looked as pretty and lively as ever. It was hard to believe her mother thought Louisa surly and troubled.
Then the sixteen-year old drew back to gaze at the split skirt. "Have you been riding?" When Frances nodded, she pulled a face. "Drat, I wanted to teach you!"
"I know. I'm sorry. I had to make a bargain with someone, trade riding lessons for something else." Not wanting to mention Chaco, however, or the fact that he was illiterate, she didn't go into it. "Your mother told me the two of you haven't been getting along."
"Did she send you here?" Louisa's mood swiftly changed to hostile.
"I came of my own accord. I'm concerned about you."
"I haven't done anything wrong."
"I didn't think you had." And she meant that sincerely. "You've never been the sort of girl who seemed man-crazy." Like some of the students at Miss Llewellyn's, the kind who'd rather giggle about boys than study.
"Ma mentioned Eusebio Velarde?"
"That you were entertaining him in the barn."
Louisa's dark eyes flashed. "We were only talking. She doesn't have to worry. I'd break a post over his head if he tried to touch me!"
"Then why were you out in the barn?" Belle hadn't gone into details, only that she was very upset over the incident. "Sounds like you were trying to hide something."
"Of course, I was trying to hide." Louisa raised her brows. "Ma wouldn't want me talking to a strange man. She's so afraid I'll run off with somebody – like she did when she was thirteen."
"Belle ran off with your father when she was younger than you?"
Louisa shook her head. "My father was her second husband." She sighed and threw some clothing off a chair. "You might as well sit down, make yourself comfortable." The girl plopped back down on the bed. "Ma's first husband was a horrible man who beat her up all the time. She tried to run away but he kept catching her. Finally, she went crazy."
Frances was startled. "Belle? Insane?"
"Whenever she thinks about it now, she gets a little crazy all over again."
She couldn't help but envision the scene at the brothel and remembered Sophie asking Belle if she was crazy. Uneasily, she asked, "What happened to your mother's first husband?"
"He was murdered. Ma doesn't know who did it. She just woke up after a year or so and she wasn't in Texas anymore and he was dead."
"How strange. Where did she wake up?"
"Louisiana. But she went back to Texas again. She lived there for a few years before the Comanches captured her. My father, Red Knife, offered to marry her, though. She said he was a much better husband."
What an unusual life Belle had led, Frances mused, watching Louisa toy with the necklace she wore, a large claw on a leather thong, decorated with bits of natural stone and tiny feathers.
"I wish I'd been able to see what living in an Indian camp was like," Louisa said. "Ma had to leave after Red Knife was killed. Some posse was looking for Comanche horse thieves."
Frances pointed out, "An Indian camp could have been a sad existence."
"I'm probably better off the way I am," Louisa agreed. "I don't intend to have a sad life in the future either, not if I can help it. Ma's always worrying about that but she doesn't have to."
"Well, you can see why she would worry, after all she's been through. She wants you to have better opportunities."
Louisa tightened her mouth. "I'm never going to work in her profession...or let some man beat me. I'd rather dress in trousers and carry a gun like Calamity Jane."
Frances had heard of the notorious woman, having read articles about her in Boston newspapers some years before. "I don't think you have to go that far." Being notorious wouldn't make Louisa happy. "And I hope you won't let your mother's life turn you against men. Not all are brutes. I believe you can find someone to marry, a man who really loves you – "
"I know," Louisa cut her off. "I wasn't saying I didn't like men. But I don't want to get married until I'm much, much older. And I'm not going to sleep with anybody and get pregnant, so that I have to get married, either."
Frances was surprised to hear such words coming from a sixteen-year old's mouth. She hadn't been so wise herself at twenty-one. "At least you seem to be very...knowledgeable."
"I know all about how babies get started. And I'm also aware of the difference between flirting and sleeping with a man." She gazed at Frances. "I was only flirting with Eusebio, you know. Why not? It's so boring around here. I had this friend who lived down the street but she got married. At fifteen!" She looked disgusted. "What am I supposed to do with myself? Everyone's gone."
Including Nate, whom Louisa used to confide in. Frances felt both sad about that and guilty that she hadn't been thinking about the girl. "I could come see you more often."
"That would be nice."
"And you said you wanted to ride your horses."
"I have been riding them, every day. But I'd also like someone to talk to." Louisa played with the unusual necklace again.
"What is that? A claw?"
"Uh, huh, a bear claw." The girl leaned forward and held the necklace out for Frances to see more closely. "It's supposed to be an Indian charm against evil. It belonged to my Pa."
"How interesting." Frances examined it, wondering how to bring up the topic of education, something she'd promised Belle. She already thought she could reassure the woman about Louisa and men. Perhaps Belle might relax her attitude a little and her daughter wouldn't have to hide her friendships. "If you're so bored, you might try some reading."
"I've read all the books that I own."
"Then you could borrow some of mine."
"I'd rather be outside. I want to raise horses someday, not be a teacher like you. Not that there's anything wrong with teaching."
"You will always have more opportunities if you have an education."
"I'm not leaving New Mexico Territory again." Expression stubborn, Louisa rose to look out the window. "I love it here."
"But you're bored. What if you could go to school right here in Santa Fe?"
Louisa turned, her expression horrified. "With the Sisters of Loretto? Nuns?"
"They might not be so terrible. And their lives aren't that different from the teachers at Miss Llewellyn's." She herself had led a nunnish existence.
"Is this your idea or Ma's?"
Belle had brought up the subject, but Frances thought Louisa would be more receptive if she didn't admit that. "We both talked about it." She urged, "Won't you at least consider the possibility? You don't have to make a decision right now."
"I can't go to school for awhile anyway, not until I replaster the walls and paint them. I owe Ma some money."
At least Louisa wasn't saying no. And she was trying to be responsible about the money she'd taken. Belle ought to be happy that she'd made some progress, Frances thought, smiling.
"I heard that you bought a horse."
Louisa's face lit up. "A real beauty. Want to see him before it gets too dark?"
The girl led her out the back way, past a big cottonwood tree and into the fenced pasture. Frances's gaze was immediately drawn to the long-legged bay who was prancing and snorting. The smaller horses in the enclosure, the paint and the dark-colored one, also seemed nervous. They rolled their eyes, showing the whites.
"Defiant!" called Louisa. "Come here, you big baby!" When he didn't respond, she glanced about. "I bet there's some coyotes around here. They can smell them."
"Will they attack the horses?" Frances also felt nervous, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe all that talk
of premonitions earlier...
"A full-grown horse can stomp a coyote. But I'd better warn Senora Rodriquez, tell her to make sure she's cooped up all her chickens."
Before the girl did so, she accompanied Frances out to Belle's borrowed carriage parked in front of the house. Frances hugged Louisa a second time.
"Defiant is beautiful, truly elegant."
"Isn't he? You can ride him the next time you visit."
Frances laughed. "I only hope I'll be ready for that." The horse was so tall.
"You are visiting me again soon, aren't you?"
"I promise, next week."
Frances vowed she would make the time to do so, wanting another chance to work on Louisa. Not that she didn't also enjoy the girl's company. Louisa waved as the carriage drove away, the driver cursing as one of the matched set of grays reared and snorted. He snapped the reins and pulled until the horses settled down.
"Coyotes?" asked Frances.
The driver turned. "Que, Senora?"
"Nevermind."
The carriage lurched over some ruts, then rolled on more smoothly. Frances gazed out at the wild land beyond the town's edge, desert gray with dusk and sprinkled with black, shadowy junipers. A few stars pricked the darkening sky overhead. Two tiny lights also flickered in a ragged copse of chamisa. Curiosity aroused, Frances stared, then caught her breath sharply as the flickering lights suddenly became glittering eyes. A large animal with matted fur and huge jaws emerged from the chamisa and stared directly back at her.
A coyote? A wolf?
Frances shivered, afraid. "Driver? Senor?"
But by the time she was able to get the man's attention, the creature had disappeared.
SAFELY INSIDE THE LOBBY of the Blue Sky, Frances wondered if the wolf had been a figment of her imagination. The driver had certainly acted like she was hysterical when she'd gotten wild-eyed and insisted he stop the carriage to look out into the desert.
He must have also thought it odd when she needed so much help getting out of the conveyance a few minutes ago.
Heightened emotion and physical exertion had caught up with her. Tired and sore, Frances wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and collapse. But first she had to find Belle. When the clerk on duty said the madam was busy, she felt relieved.
"Can you give her a message for me? Tell her that her daughter is safe at home and in good spirits."
"Sure, I'll tell her, Mrs. Gannon."
"And could you get someone to heat water for my bathtub? Right away?"
Frances then headed upstairs. Soon, she'd be able to soak and relax in a warm tub, then snuggle into her featherbed. Maybe she wouldn't even talk to Belle until the next day. Unlocking the door of her bedroom, she took off her jacket and sank onto a chair, not knowing if she had enough energy to pull her boots off, even using a bootjack.
That's when she heard the splashing sounds coming from the adjoining room, whose connecting door stood ajar.
"Juanita? Rosa?" Were they already filling the tub? Frances struggled to her feet and went to investigate, freezing at the sight before her. "Chaco!"
Immersed in soapy water, his hair wet and slicked back, he didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed.
"This is my bathtub!"
His eyebrows shot up. "It has a door to the hall."
"Which should have been locked. The other door opens into my bedroom." Which he certainly knew, after carrying her there the night she'd been smacked in the jaw. She felt particularly uncomfortable after what had happened between them today. "Who said you could come in here?"
"No one. I asked to have the tub filled."
"Well, you'll have to get out."
A strange glint lit his eyes as he asked, "Right now?"
Before she could answer, he stood up, rivulets of water running down his torso. Stunned, she let her eyes drift over the muscular chest, the line of dark hair that sworled across it and inexorably downward...
She swallowed. She hadn't had a lot of experience judging men, but he seemed quite well endowed. And her face grew hot.
"I-I didn't mean get out this very moment! You're naked!"
"That's the way I always take a bath."
She turned away, desperately grabbing for a towel in the cabinet and throwing it at him. "Here!"
Still standing in the middle of the tub, he began drying his face and hair, leaving the rest of him fully exposed.
What in the world was wrong with him?
"Oh!" Seeing no other course, she retreated into the bedroom. But she continued talking. "You knew I was going to take a bath tonight! I said so."
"I thought you would do it later." His voice came from the other room, along with louder splashing that meant he was finally getting out of the tub. "Adolfo told me you went to Belle's house."
"Still, the bathtub isn't public property."
He came to the connecting door with the towel draped about his middle. "You don't share it, huh?"
"Share it?"
He was suggesting they bathe together? She imagined her wet skin sliding over his, their limbs intertwining, and was appalled. No doubt he thought she was easy because of the wanton way she'd responded to his kiss. She'd thought she'd set him straight, but it seemed he didn't have the decency to take "no" for an answer.
Furious, she locked gazes with him. "I may have kissed you, but I didn't promise you any liberties. Quite the contrary. You can't traipse into my room, flaunt yourself naked and say whatever you want!" She glanced at the bed. "Next thing, you'll be -- "
He raised his brows, obviously catching her drift. But he asked, "I'll be what?"
"Nevermind! Goodnight!" Stepping forward, she slammed the door in his face and locked it.
Then she threw herself on the bed, clothes, boots and all. As happened far too frequently, Chaco had managed to get to her. She had to remind herself that she didn't want to get involved with him, had to remind herself that, if it weren't for Chaco, Nate would be sharing her bed.
Only thing was, she could hardly conjure up Nate's image in her mind anymore. She kept seeing Chaco instead.
A shiver ran through her. And an unbidden thought, one that Frances recognized as a premonition of sorts. She was properly spooked.
Getting any closer to Chaco Jones would be dangerous not only to her emotions but to her physical well-being.
CHAPTER TEN
THERE WERE WITCHES everywhere, she was certain of it.
Minna Tucker huddled in the darkened church, praying she wouldn't run into any. She'd begun making daily visits to the plain, almost forbidding sanctuary since finding the Navajo who'd gone and gotten himself killed on her property. Not that she cared about there being one less Indian around. Rather two, she reminded herself. His throat ripped out in addition to having other – some unspeakable – injuries, an Apache had been found lifeless and buck-naked near that harlot Belle Janks's house the day before.
Or had it been two days now?
Minna tried concentrating but couldn't remember. That made her nervous. Too many faces and voices had been crowding her mind lately, and she was having trouble separating dream from reality.
Renewed nerves started up the cursed cough, the jarring motion making her already muddled head feel like it was ready to explode, shooting a hot pain through her already aching shoulder. Gasping for air, she sneaked a look around. Certain she was alone, she slipped a small vial from the pocket of her voluminous skirts, uncorked it and took a swig. The tickle settled and the ache receded. Praise the Lord for her patent medicine. She didn't know what she would do without it. Her coughing spells had gotten worse since she'd had to start worrying over Billie's immortal soul.
He'd finally come home the day after she'd followed him to the Blue Sky, properly penitent that he'd allowed the fallen women there to bewitch him into having sex with them.
She took another swig. Some of those whores were at least part Indian as was that Satan, Chaco Jones, who'd kept her from saving her only son. No doubt on
e of those Indian witches had cursed her boy with the dreaded appetite. Shame-faced after she'd made him kneel and pray for the Lord's forgiveness, Billie had said he hoped he wouldn't fall from grace again...but admitted he had no control over his urges. How disgusting.
What was a mother to do?
Minna was feeling more and more out of control these days. Unable to control her boy. Unable to control her memory. Unable to say exactly why or when she'd taken to leaving her bed at night and wandering who knew where. One morning, she'd come to her senses in her front yard at dawn. Her nightgown had been soaked with blood and it wasn't even her time. She'd burned the thing in the fire before making breakfast.
Certain that her blowsy neighbor, as well as Belle Janks, had been gossiping about her, saying she was crazy, Minna was worried that someone might believe painted harlots, might think that she, a good Christian woman, was capable of killing those savages just because they had no souls.
She raised the vial to her lips and let the soothing liquid splash back against her throat before corking and secreting the medicine. Her supply was running low. She'd have to send Billie for more before she ran out.
Tottering to the door, Minna squinted against the brilliant afternoon sun and left the church. As she navigated the crude dirt street, her legs were wobbly and her head felt like it was plumb stuffed with cotton. But her eyes were still sharp. They didn't miss the carriage careening around a narrow corner just as she reached the crossing. She jumped out of the way and was outraged at seeing who sat behind the team. Belle's little half-breed was laughing with a young Spaniard.
Minna screeched, "How dare you try to run down a God-fearing woman!" She clutched the cross dangling from a chain about her neck and held it out to protect herself against evil. "Children of Satan!"
"Old biddy!" Louisa Janks yelled in return.
Scowling, the half-breed grabbed at the heathen necklace she wore – an animal claw of some sort – and dared to hold it out in the same fashion as Minna did her cross.
The carriage sped down the street.
