Renegade Love (Rancheros) (11 page)

Free.

He had yearned for freedom these many years and he still did. He didn’t feel free and he wondered if he ever would and yet—sitting here next to his wife—he felt somewhat content. Could being wed to her make a difference? Could she help him... or would he destroy her?

She squeezed his arm lightly. “So tell me did you pick fruit when you were young?”

“All the time,” he said the side of his mouth lifting in a partial smile.

It warmed Rosa’s heart to see that slight smile, though it faded too quickly. His brow knit and he appeared to drift off, no doubt into memories that were anything but pleasant. Dare she ask him? If she didn’t, how could she even begin to understand him? She did not want to spend a lifetime fearing her husband. And there was too many times he put fear into her and that wasn’t what she wanted in her marriage.

With her heart thumping and her stomach roiling, she took a chance and asked, “It must have been difficult for you being captured so young?”

“Young?” He sneered. “According to Pacquito I was a man and I deserved a man’s punishment when I disobeyed him, which seemed to be a daily occurrence.”

“How frightened you must have been,” she said and wishing to comfort him, she gave his arm another gentle squeeze.

“I don’t need your sympathy,” he snapped and she pulled her hand away, as if he had slapped it. He cursed silently, having enjoyed the feel of her hand on his arm and the way she had squeezed it now and again to emphasis her words or perhaps her feelings.

Rosa contained the shiver that wanted to race through her. His abruptness frightened her, perhaps because when the Curros had spoken to her in such a fashion it had always been followed by the slap of a hand or the strap. She would immediately turn silent and obey them. But then hadn’t Esteban experienced the same, only to a greater degree. She could not imagine surviving such an ordeal. Esteban certainly had proved just how much of a courageous man he truly was. And being he had defended her against Roberto, she felt the need to defend him against what Pacquito had created.

Refusing to surrender to her quaking limbs and nervous stomach, she spoke up, “It isn’t sympathy I offer, but rather friendship. Can we not be friends and at least care for each other as such?”

I want more.

The thought startled him, though he didn’t show it, nor did he understand it. It would do well to be friends with his wife and yet... he wanted more. What more was there? Love? A foolish, irrational thought.

“You wish to be friends with a savage?”

Her hand returned to his arm. “I wish to be friends with my husband.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I want more.”

Rosa had no chance to ask him what he meant by more and she wondered if he had made the remark purposely so that she would not have a chance to respond since they had just entered the town and eased to a stop at the Mercantile, the first building on the right.

“Stay where you are,” Esteban said. “I’ll only be a moment.”

Rosa watched as men moved out of his way and women would not even dare go near him. Two crossed the street and blessed themselves as they went. One woman grabbed her young son by his shirt collar to stop him from crossing Esteban’s path. And two women rushed out of the Mercantile shortly after he had entered.

Her heart went out to her husband. He was treated as if he had some horrible disease that one could catch if they got too near him, though that wasn’t true. At least they would have sympathy for such a person, his illness not being his fault. No, they feared Esteban, thought him the devil’s own and blamed him for remaining with Pacquito as long as he had and not escaping.

Esteban walked out of the Mercantile and all eyes turned on him. Some men even followed him out to stare at him as if he was an oddity. Her husband stopped before stepping off the planked walkway and turned his head slowly to glare at each and every person who stared at him. They quickly averted their eyes, the men rushing back into the Mercantile and the men on the streets hurrying off.

He stood there a few minutes until everyone dispersed, and then he climbed into the carriage placing the wrapped package with sealed letters tucked beneath the string, under the seat.

They drove on passing several more buildings until they finally entered St. Lucita Plaza, the center of the small town and the gathering place for the peasants. It was busy this time of morning. The women were assembled at the well not only to collect water but also gossip. The men went about their daily chores, stopping occasionally to talk and barter.

It was a familiar scene to Rosa and one she missed. She was eager to see her friend Marinda and discover what news she had to share. Who had had babies? Who was falling in love? Who had taken ill? But the more she saw the way the people bowed their heads or averted their eyes not only at Esteban, but at her as well made her realize that things had changed. She feared that she was no longer one of them and that she would not be welcomed at the well to share gossip. She had felt homeless, adrift after losing her parents, not knowing where she belonged. She felt that way again now, the people she once called friends glaring at her as if she was a stranger just like at the hacienda. Where now did she belong?

To my husband.
The thought startled her.

She looked at him and saw how stiff he sat, his eyes straight ahead, acknowledging no one, as if he could not be bothered. Her posture had grown taut as well and she realized neither of them smiled. Don Alejandro had always greeted the townspeople with a smile when he rode through the Plaza. She, herself, had always had a smile for her friends. She had always looked forward to such pleasant exchanges, especially having to live with two people who offered only berating and not an ounce of pleasantry.

Would the townspeople believe her new life with Esteban difficult since she had yet to greet them with a smile? Would they think she too was as fearful of him as they were? The thoughts no soon as entered her head than a smile spread across her face and her hand went to squeeze her husband’s arm as she said, “Please stop the carriage.”

Esteban eased the horses to a stop, concerned that his wife felt ill. Before he could inquire, she was climbing out of the carriage, taking the basket of oranges with her. He watched her call out greetings to various people she knew and hurried over to a few children at play to give them each a plump orange. They smiled as Rosa ruffled their hair and they took the offered fruit without hesitation. She gave another orange to an old woman sitting on a bench, though not before peeling the skin off it for her. She then hurried over to her friend Marinda and the two women hugged like long lost sisters reunited. They spoke a few words, laughed, spoke a few more words, and then Rosa handed her the basket and what was left of the oranges.

He watched how stares turned to smiles as Rosa called out to people by name and asked how they were or asked about a family member that had been feeling poorly. Then before she reached the carriage she called out that she would light a candle for the sick and they all smiled and nodded.

Esteban jumped out of the carriage and a few men that stood close by scurried away. He went to his wife, took her hand, and assisted her into the conveyance. He then snapped the reins as soon as he returned to his seat and they proceeded to the mission.

Rosa continued to smile and wave at anyone they passed and when he brought the carriage to a stop in front of the mission he turned to her.

“Do you think to show the people that you have tamed the beast?”

“No,” she said forcing her smile to remain and ignoring the tremble in her legs. “That I have survived the beast.”

Esteban sat shocked as she climbed out of the carriage, though it didn’t take long for him to respond. He bolted out of the vehicle to grab his wife’s arm as she walked away from him and swung her around to face him. He was angry that she should think that she needed to survive him. That is what he had thought about his capture—he had needed to survive—no matter what he had needed to survive.

“So you think to survive me?”

“Isn’t that what we both have done? Survive how best we could?” Her curiosity gave her the courage to seek an answer to his prior remark. “Or is there more you wanted?”

This time Padre Marten interrupted an answer. He spread his arms wide in greeting. “Welcome my children.” He turned to Esteban, his glance settling with a scowl on the hand that grasped Rosa’s arm. “Have you come for confession?”

“There aren’t enough prayers in heaven to cleanse my soul, Padre.” Esteban released his wife and returned to the carriage to grab the leather satchel. He handed it to the padre. “From my father.” He reached into his pants pocket and retrieved a few coins. “My wife wishes to light some candles for friends.”

Padre Marten accepted the coins and nodded to Rosa.

“Do not take long,” Esteban said and walked over to the carriage. He would give her a few minutes to see to her task. He wanted to be on his way home. He preferred the solitude of the hacienda and he was beginning to enjoy time alone with his wife. He was aware that could prove dangerous, but he had decided to chance it.

Is there more you wanted?

Her question suddenly assaulted him, though it was his own words that she had tossed back at him. He did want more from her, so much more and it wasn’t only about consummating their vows. He was beginning to see his wife differently than he had first thought. There was courage beneath her meek demeanor that was tempered by her kind heart. And he realized that while her courage had been stumped on by the Curros, they had been unable to rob her of her kindness.

He, on the other hand, had been robbed of every ounce of kindness he had ever possessed and he wanted to know how she had managed to hold on to her humanity while suffering such abuse.

Esteban glared at the mission doors that stood open. What was keeping her? He almost climbed down out of the carriage when he reminded himself that it hadn’t been that long since she had entered the church. He would give her a few more minutes and if she didn’t appear, he would go in and get her.

After barely a few minutes had passed Esteban lost his patience and hurried out of the carriage and into the church to collect his wife. He remained in the shadows when he saw that the padre was speaking with her. He moved closer with such silent steps that they did not hear him approach.

“It is good of you to light candles for your friends,” the padre said standing to the side of the metal rack that held numerous candles.

“And for my husband, who is also my friend,” Rosa informed him with a smile.

“Esteban is your husband, not your friend,” the padre said sadly. “I doubt he knows what it is to be a friend. And a candle lit for him will do him little good if he doesn’t attend confession.”

Rosa softly blew out the flame at the end of the slim stick she had used to light the candles and replaced it in the glass holder along with the others to be used again. Her heart pounded and her hands trembled. She always got like that when she worried about speaking up and more often than not she kept her thought to herself. This time, however, she felt compelled to defend her husband.

“You are wrong, Padre. Esteban knows how to be a friend and is a good friend to me.”

“You barely know him, my child.”

Rosa raised her chin a notch. “I know that he has suffered and is deserving of compassion and forgiveness for the horrors forced on him.”

“He need only attend confession to receive that.”

“Perhaps, but shouldn’t he be welcomed into the safety and sanctity of the church until that time?”

“There are rules—”

“That restrict rather than console an injured soul,” Rosa interrupted.

“A sinful soul is far different than an injured soul.”

“My husband is not sinful. He is a good man and good friend.”

“And is he a good husband? Is he kind and proper in all his husbandly duties?”

Heat rushed to stain her cheeks apple red and she clenched her hands together tightly so the padre would not see how they trembled. She knew what he was asking, for without the consummation of their vows their marriage was not valid. But why would he question such a thing?

“Did you expect her to be bruised and unable to walk after I got done exerting my
husbandly duty
?”

Padre Marten gasped as Esteban stepped out of the shadows and extended his hand to his wife.

Rosa took it, relieved he was there, though as usual she was amazed that she had not heard him approach. He tucked her against his side, his arm going around her waist, and she rested there quite comfortably.

“A marriage can be dissolved if vows are not sealed,” the padre said. “Do you want that, Esteban?”

Instinctively, Esteban eased Rosa closer against him. “I can assure you, Padre, I slept with my wife and I also can assure you that this marriage will never be dissolved.”

Padre Marten nodded. “I accept your word, Esteban, for I do not believe you would lie to me in God’s house. And it pleases me to see Rosa so happy. She deserves happiness. And think on the confessional, Esteban, for you will certainly want to attend the baptism of your first child and the many children that I am sure will follow. Bless you both.” The padre made the sign of the cross in front of them. “Now I must go and administer to the sick.” He turned and soon disappeared behind the altar.

Esteban took his wife’s hand and led her from the church. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into the carriage, as if she weighed nothing, then he climbed in beside her and snapped the reins.

Rosa wasn’t surprised when he directed the horse away not only from the mission but the town itself. This way would take a bit longer to get home, but it was apparent that he didn’t want to ride through town again. She was glad she had gotten a chance to give Marinda the oranges and had told her that she would return another day to visit with her.

Her thoughts were far too concerned with the incident in the church to even consider a visit with her friend. She wished that she could discuss it with Esteban, but she worried that she had expended her courage for the day and would not fare well against his biting temper if unleashed.