Paloma and the Horse Traders Read Free

the Double
Cross.
    Marco’s expression turned tender. Paloma looked
over her shoulder to see Soledad in Eckapeta’s arms, struggling to
get down and follow her dear papa. Marco blew his daughter a kiss,
then turned his attention to Paloma again.
    “ Be easy. Take care of yourself and
the little one we cannot see yet.”
    She knew she would do as he asked, because
their servants would insist upon it. She had discovered early in
her marriage that Marco never kept a secret. Before she was even
out of bed that morning, he had been up, taking their joyous news
to Sancha and Perla first, and relying on them to spread it
throughout the Double Cross before breakfast. Before her master was
even out of sight, Sancha would be bullying Paloma to lie down and
prop up her feet.
    The prospect had its appeal. Paloma relished
the idea of being firmly coerced into rest by Sancha, the family
housekeeper who had come with Felicia, Marco’s first wife, and who
extended her devotion to Paloma. Even now, with the sun still low
in the east, she was already tired. How did a baby no bigger than
her smallest finger command her whole body? God’s
mystery.
    She watched the men ride to the open gates,
just the two of them, because Kwihnai had kept his promise and
reined in his warriors in return for the gift of smallpox
inoculation that Marco and Paloma had taken east to the Texas
plains nearly two years ago. Still, two men seemed too few, when
one of those men was the husband she adored. Paloma calmed her fear
by considering the two riders, both of them warriors seasoned by
warfare but governed by caution.
    My darling leaves his guards for us , she
thought. She gave Marco the medium-sized curtsey that custom
dictated, the best she could do with their son in her arms. In
turn, Marco made the sign of the cross over her and their children
and blew her a kiss. The kiss was not part of the ritual, because
most Spaniards were circumspect people. Paloma smiled and waved,
thinking how they had changed after their months in the Comanche
winter camp in the sacred cañón . Marco kissed her in front
of the servants now, which would have astounded his parents. These are modern times , Paloma thought, pleased with her
man.
    When Marco and Toshua rode through the gates,
which shut behind them, Soledad started to cry. Startled, Claudio
turned around in her arms to stare at his sister. His lips began to
tremble.
    “ No, son,” Paloma said and gently
turned his face into her breasts. She watched as Eckapeta put her
hand over Soli’s nose and mouth and gave her head a little shake.
After a gasp to breathe and a shuddering sigh, the child went
silent. Eckapeta set her down, knelt beside her, then gathered her
close, so there would be no hard feelings.
    In another moment, Soli wriggled out of
Eckapeta’s loose grasp and walked purposefully toward Paloma. She
clung to her mother’s skirts, then tugged on them until Paloma set
Claudio down beside her. In another moment they were cross-legged
and playing with blocks on the veranda, the crisis over.
    After making certain that Perla’s little
grandson would sit with her children, Paloma walked with her dear
friend into the house. “I wish you could cheer me up as fast,” she
said.
    “ Just think! You have your whole bed
to yourself for a while,” Eckapeta said. “No one to steal your
blankets or put cold feet on your legs.”
    “ But it’s August and hot!” Paloma
couldn’t help her tears, which more than her late monthly told her
she was with child again. “I miss him already!” she
wailed.
    With an amused expression on her pockmarked
face, Eckapeta gave her the same treatment she had administered to
Soledad. She pinched Paloma’s nose shut and put her hand over her
mouth. The little shake of her head was accompanied by a kiss on
the cheek. Paloma brushed aside Eckapeta’s hand and laughed, her
own crisis over.
    There was no point in trying to restore her
matronly dignity; Eckapeta knew her too well.