It's Just Lola (42 page)

“I don’t remember my mother.  She died when I was very young.  It was just the three of us.”

“It must have been very hard for you.”

“It was harder on Jacoba.  I kind of lost touch when I left home.  Father couldn’t write, and Jacoba didn’t.  Years ago Father got word to me that she was working as a seamstress on this plantation. 
If she was here,
I knew he’d be here too.
  When there was no answer to my letter, I assumed they’d moved on.
”  They reached the cemetery, and Lola and Juan stepped back as Filipe removed his hat and knelt by his father’s grave. 

“
Y
ou
may be
right, Juan,” whispered Lola.  “We have to confront Jacoba with this.”

“Your father isn’t strong enough to take this kind of shock.  I wanted proof when I thought he was dying.  Now I think we should leave it alone and send Filipe on his way.”

“And leave Jacoba to do more damage?  Juan, Father’s life is more important than his feelings.”

Filipe walked back toward them.  “I am honored, Señora, that you buried my father with your own family.”

“Your father was very kind, and he always had fresh flowers for my mother.”

“Señora, do you know where Jacoba went when she left here?” 

“
Actually
...” Juan looked at Lola, his eyes pleading.  Lola shook her head.  “Jacoba may still be here.  At least, there’s someone here named Jacoba, but...”

Filipe
’s face
drained of color
.  “I need a few more minutes.  Why don’t you go back to the house, Señora, and I’ll follow with Juan soon.”

Lola knew the men would be uncomfortable talking in front of her, but she could not leave this for an employee, no matter that she still thought of him as Tío Juan.  “I know Juan told you how your father died
, and it must have been a shock for you
. 
T
he two of you
can
discuss that later, but
first
we need to know if your sister and our Jacoba are the same person.   Our Jacoba’s father was a Spaniard—a small landowner whose property was taken
to satisfy
debt
s
, leaving her bereft of resources.  She never mentioned a brother.”

“My father was not Spanish, but my sister seldom told the truth.  Father spent his life getting her out of the trouble her lies got her into.” Filipe’s eyes fill
ed
with tears. 
Pepe’s death happened years ago, but for his son it was still new.  Did
they ha
ve the
right to cause him greater pain
?  Before Lola could offer to delay the discussion,
Filipe straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Let’s go meet your Jacoba.  I’ve always been afraid of her, but it’s time I stood up like a man and asked her some hard questions.” 
He led the way back to the house.

“Pilar, please serve us coffee in the parlor, and tell Jacoba it
’
s urgent that she join us.”  Lola ignored Pilar’s look of disapproval.  Cholos weren’t served in the parlor—not even Juan. 

They sat in silence until Rosa brought the coffee.  “Señora Jacoba will be here shortly.”  The silence lengthened.  Several times Lola thought Filipe was about to speak, but he didn’t.

When Jacoba finally appeared, the two men rose.  She ignored them and turned her anger on Lola.  “What’s so urgent that
I
had to be
disturbed
?  And what are these Cholos doing in my parlor?”

“
Your
parlor?”  Filipe made a sound that might have been a laugh.  “Jacoba, you haven’t changed.”

Jacoba looked at Filipe for the first time.  Her face paled as she recognized him.  “You!  What are you doing here?”  Jacoba’s expression changed from shock to fury in the blink of an eye.  “Get out of my house
now
—before you say another word, or I’ll squash you like the miserable
cowardly
worm that you are.”

“I’m not afraid of you anymore, Jacoba.”  The tremor in his voice belied his words.  “I can’t stay quiet.  I was too afraid to speak before, and Father paid the price.  I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Jacoba advanced toward Filipe, her face distorted in rage.  “
Go back to your gutter,
maggot. 
I’m the Señora here, and nothing can stand in my way now.  If you even try,
I’ll make you
regret the day you were born.  Get out of my way or I’ll make you pay
—just like I made him pay, and others before him.  No one stands in Jacoba’s way.”

Jacoba took another step toward her brother,
and
Lola realized that Filipe, despite his words, was frozen in terror.  “No, Jacoba, this ends now.” 
She
reached out and grabbed
Jacoba’s
arm. 

Jacoba wrenched her arm from Lola’
s grasp
and
kept moving toward Filipe.
“This is all your fault, you cowardly little—“ 

“Jacoba—“ Lola’s voice was as sharp as a whip.  “I kept the coffee.  We have proof.”
  Jacoba reached for Filipe’s throat.  “
Juan,
seize
her.”
  Before
Juan
could move
,
Jacoba whirled and
ran from the room
.
 
They
heard the front door slam behind her. 

It
took
a
second for Lola to recover her wits.  “We have to stop her.” Lola scrambled out the door as fast as she could.  It took another second or two for Juan to start moving, but he soon passed her.  Juan was almost at the stables when the black horse came out with Jacoba, riding bareback, clinging to his mane
and
kicking him to top speed.  The horse veered to the side, but Jacoba yanked his head back and aimed it straight at Juan.  Lola stopped in mid-stride, once again a ten-year-old, too frightened to move.  Juan stepped aside at the last moment.  There were no reins he could grab
—
no way
to
stop the already speeding
animal
.  The
horse reached a gallop, heading for the house and the road beyond. 

Lola turned
and started back to the house
, too upset to speak. 
She heard a man
scream
, followed by the snorting neigh
of a frightened horse
.
She
ran
with
the pounding of Juan’s footsteps
right
behind her.  When they got within sight of the house, they saw Filipe
staring down the road after the horse.  He was
standing over what looked like a pile of rags, but Lola knew it was Jacoba.  Lola kept running.  When she reached Jacoba, she saw
that
her head
was
twisted
at an unnatural angle.  Lola put her fingers on
the side of
Jacoba’s neck, feeling for a pulse she knew was not there.

Filipe was babbling.  “I saw the horse coming right at me, and I tried to stop it, but as usual, I was such a coward I stepped out of the way.  I was so angry and frustrated with my own weakness that I threw the only thing I had—my hat.  By some accident I hit the poor horse in the face and startled it.”  He looked at Lola, but his eyes were glazed and unfocused.  “I’m sorry, Señora, I let your horse get away.”

Did the man not realize his sister was dead?  It must be shock.  “Juan, please take Filipe to your house.  Tell Carmen to keep him warm, feed him and get him to sleep.  Use aguadiente if you have to.  I’ll check on him tomorrow.”

“What about Jacoba?  You’ll need help.”

“I’ll get the stable hands to carry her to the house.  No one can help Jacoba now, and Filipe can’t be left alone.  I don’t know what he’ll do when he realizes he killed her.  I don’t trust him with anyone else.  You’re the only one who knows the story—and it must stay that way.”

“
Sí, P
atrona
.”

~ ~ ~

It was
nearly dawn
, and Lola
still had more questions than
answers. 
T
he servants
had been
too frightened
to sit
vigil
with Jacoba’s body, so the task fell to Lola.  Pilar and Rosa said they’d take turns
caring for
her father. 
After hours of internal debate, she had finally decided not to say anything to the priest, thus allowing him
to bury Jacoba
on consecrated ground.  Lola
was convinced
Jacoba
was a murderer, but decided to leave
it
in God’s hands.  Attempted murder was all she was sure of, and without testing the coffee on an animal, even that was open to debate. 
Lola was aware
that
her decision would
preserve her father’s dignity
as well
.  The greater question
wa
s the one implied by Juan’s remark. 
With
Jacoba gone, she could
come
back and reclaim Yousef’s inheritance
, but should she?
  Her mind
skittered
in a different direction
—
she hadn
’
t thought his English name
.  It was
as though she erased the years since she left the plantation.

Enrique regained consciousness the next morning and was able to drink water. 
Carmen sat with him while Filipe, Juan, Lola, and the house servants attended Jacoba’s short burial service.  By some quirk of memory, Filipe did not connect Jacoba’s
accident
with his own actions. 
He left the plantation the same afternoon after thanking Juan for his concern and Lola for allowing his family to be buried with hers.

For
two days
Enrique
drifted in and out of confused consciousness. 
Lola gave him sweet tea and
a thin gruel of chicken broth, potato, and garlic. 
The next
afternoon
,
Juan arrived and told her he had seen a carriage approaching from Victoria’s house.  Lola felt a touch of panic as she tried to smooth her rumpled dress.  She ran to her room to comb her hair, and check the state of the other dress she had brought.  To her relief, it had been pressed and was hanging in the wardrobe.  “Thank you, Rosa,” she said softly as she changed.  She reached the top of the stairs as Rosa was opening the door.
 
Lola took a deep breath
and hurried down the stairs
. 

“
Hello, Lola
,” said Victoria
as
she and Amelia followed Lola
to the parlor
. 
“Is it true that Jacoba fell off her horse? 
What a tragic accident. 
Why weren’t we told?  We could have come to the funeral.” 

The real reason was that Lola had been too preoccupied to think about them.  However,
the
funeral was two days ago
,
and
Lola knew
the stable hands would have
told everyone in
the village within minutes of the accident. 
That news would have spread faster than fire during a drought, and the sisters
would have known within hours. 

Amelia was more direct, making no attempt at sympathy for Jacoba. 
“We
were afraid
to
come earlier,
because
of infection. 
I
t would
’
ve been dreadful if poor Papa contracted a disease that spread.  We had to protect our own families from contagion.”

“You should
’
ve known it wasn’t contagious.  No one else in the house got sick.”  Lola barely kept her outrage in control.  They hadn
’
t even tried to help their father?

“You know the Cholos resist their diseases better than we can.”  Victoria’s tone of superiority goaded Lola to voice the first thing that came to her mind.

“Yes, I did know that.  The European aristocracy
’
s
generations of inbreeding, has weakened them.”
 
She regretted the remark as soon as it left her mouth.  Would she ever learn to think before speaking?

“That’s one problem your children w
on’t
have to worry about,” said Victoria.  “The only one with
aristocratic blood is illegitimate
.”
  Lola felt the blood rush to her face.