Santa Fe Woman (2 page)

“Things are going to get better. They always do.”

“Well, you will have the horse, I suppose. Your father hasn’t refused you anything since you were six years old.”

“Oh, long before that! I’m totally spoiled.”

Gerald resisted the temptation to agree wholeheartedly. Instead he put his arms around her and drew her close. “When are you going to set the date, Jori?”

Jori saw he was serious. She often wished that he was not
quite
so serious. Spending your life with a man who had so little sense of humor was one problem with marrying Gerald Carter. On the other hand, he came from a good family with a great deal of money, more than the Haydens by far! His courtship had been sedate enough, and she had been vaguely disappointed that he was not more daring. It would have given her pleasure to have repelled all borders, so to speak. But he was the more proper one of the two of them.

“I’ll marry you when the leaves fall.”

“You string me up and let me twist in the wind.” Gerald shook his head ruefully. “You mean the maple leaves that fall early or the pine tree that never has leaves?”

“That’s for you to find out.”

Gerald reached forward and put his arms around her, and she surrendered herself to his kiss. It was not the kind of kiss that she enjoyed although she could not have explained why. There was something almost passive in Gerald’s kisses, and he was always the first one to break them off. Jori had a wild impulse to throw her arms around his neck and grind her mouth against his and put herself against him, but she knew this would confuse him.

When Gerald drew back, he said, “I’ll be looking forward to the ball at the Hanfords.”

“Don’t buy any new clothes.You always outshine me. I’ve got a new dress, and I want to be the prettiest of the two of us.”

“You haven’t answered me about the date of our marriage. I’d like an answer.”

“Don’t be impatient.” She patted his arm and said,“Don’t get out. I can make it.” She jumped out of the buggy and gave him a brilliant smile. “Remember, try not to dress more spectacularly than I do, Gerald.”

“All right,” he said, taking her literally. “I’ll just wear one of my old suits.”

Jori watched him as he drove off, and a sense of disappointment came to her.
I wish one time,
she thought,
he would do something totally unexpected—even shocking.
A shadow touched her eyes, but she turned aside thinking of Princess and what fun she would have with her new toy.

* * *

LELAND HAYDEN HAD ONCE remarked, “It’s hard to decide which is the messiest, my daughter Carleen’s room or the way she dresses.” Indeed, Carleen Hayden, at the age of ten, was in a constant state of disarray. She cared not at all for clothes and
was perfectly content to wear some old clothes that her brother Mark had worn as a teenager. Since she spent every available moment outside, the party dresses and fine clothes that her sister Jori insisted on buying for her were mostly unused.

Carleen sat at a table while the pencil in her left hand moved over the paper before her. She wrote as she did everything else—with great enthusiasm. This made for rather sloppy handwriting, which was a matter of despair for her tutor, Mrs. Elmus Satterfield. Mrs. Satterfield sat beside Carleen watching her pupil’s progress with something like despair. She was a tall, angular woman with sharp features, especially her nose. It had a red point on it constantly, hot weather or cold, and her eyes were sharp as ice picks. She seemed to have only one dress, which she wore every time she came to the Hayden mansion to give Carleen her lessons. The dress was dark gray with a high neck and long sleeves. The bodice fit loosely as did the skirt that came down to her ankles, and the entire dress was free from any decoration. Her hair was approximately the color of old burlap sacks that had been left out in the weather too long, and she kept it bound tightly up in a huge bun in the back. Her only ornament was a bosom watch that she looked at from time to time where it was pinned on her flat chest.

Occasionally Mrs. Satterfield looked around the room with an air of obvious displeasure. Carleen’s room was full but not of bedroom furniture. Every available space was taken up with “trophies,” including bird nests that covered the top of her bureau, a cage with a canary that twittered almost constantly, and a glass tank with turtles over by the window. Carleen had fished them out of the river and fed them with worms dug out of the garden. Hanging from the ceiling were several hornets’ nests. Just beside the door on a table was a stuffed fox, his eyes looking
bright and eager. Her bird’s egg collection filled the drawers of the chest on which the fox kept eternal vigilance. Other trophies included various unusual plants stuffed into glass bottles and any sort of vessel that Carleen could find. The bed itself was the only piece of furniture in the room that was not covered with part of Carleen’s collection.

As Carleen leaned over, her hand moving rapidly, Mrs. Satterfield saw her tongue emerge from the left side of her mouth. “Pull your tongue back in your mouth, girl!” she said sharply.

Carleen blinked and gave the woman a resentful look. Her hair, as red as hair can possibly be, she hated—though she liked her green eyes. Actually, this made a fine combination of coloring. She had gotten the red hair from her mother, and she spent some time each day bemoaning the fact that she didn’t have black hair like her sister Jori.

“I don’t know why I have to know all this old stuff, Mrs. Satterfield.”

“A young lady needs to know a great deal about the world in which she lives.” Mrs. Satterfield leaned over and put the tip of her bony fingertip on the paper. “And this is not correct. The American Revolution was not fought in 1666. It was 1776.”

A grimace twisted Carleen’s lips to one side. “Well, what difference does it make? Who cares what dead people did? I’m interested in people that are alive.” She turned to Mrs. Satterfield and said, “Why can’t I learn something that I need to know?”

“And what do you propose that might be since you don’t think history is a needful subject?”

“Well,” Carleen said thoughtfully and put the end of the pencil in her mouth. “My sister’s getting married. She’ll be having babies. It would help me to know something about that. How do babies get born?”

The ordinary shade of Elmus Satterfield’s face was something like the color of an aged biscuit. Now it turned scarlet. “That’s—that’s not for me to say. And take that pencil out of your mouth. Where are your other pencils?”

“Over there in that box on the table.”

Mrs. Satterfield rose from the chair and moved over to the wall. She had to move a dried frog from the top of the box, and she did this simply by brushing it to one side. She opened the box and reached in, turning to say, “And your pencils are never sharp.”

Suddenly a piercing scream broke from Mrs. Satterfield’s throat. It seemed to increase in pitch so that it filled the room. As she screamed, she fell backward waving her hands wildly in an erratic fashion.

“What’s the matter?” Carleen yelped, getting to her feet.

Mrs. Satterfield could not answer. Her mouth was opening and closing, but all that came out was unintelligible garbage. “The box!” she cried.

Carleen walked over to the box and grinned. She reached in and pulled out a small green snake no more than twelve inches long. It was an attractive green color, almost the color of Carleen’s eyes. “It’s just an old garter snake,” she said. “It wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

But Mrs. Satterfield was not in the least interested in hearing that. She was moving rapidly toward the door when it abruptly opened and a tall, strongly built woman entered. She was wearing a crisp black dress, and her left hand was somehow crippled so that it made a closed fist. She had a wealth of light brown hair and a pair of striking gray eyes, well shaped and set far apart. Her features were pleasant, but now she was staring at Mrs. Satterfield with consternation. “What in the world are you screaming about, Mrs. Satterfield?”

“A snake! She had a snake in that box!”

“It’s just an old garter snake, Aunt Kate,” Carleen protested. “It wouldn’t hurt anybody. See?”

Kate Johnson, age thirty-five, was Leland Hayden’s sister-inlaw. She had come to take over the raising of his children when her sister Loreen had died. She had come as a combination nanny and housekeeper and family member, and she was the most competent woman that any of the Haydens had ever seen.

“You shouldn’t keep snakes in the house. I told you that. Now, get rid of him.”

“But it’s cold out there. I’m going to turn him loose next spring.”

“Put him in the attic. It’s warm up there.”

Mrs. Satterfield interrupted. Her face had lost its red color and now was back to the biscuit color. “I refuse to stay in this house any longer and do anything with this young person.” She waved her hand toward Carleen. “You may tell Mr. Hayden I will not be back.” Grabbing her hat and coat from pegs, she sailed out the door. Carleen and Kate listened as her footsteps sounded down the stairway. Kate turned and shrugged. “Your father’s going to have a fit.”

“Don’t tell him, Aunt Kate.”

“Well, now, that’s silly. Don’t you think he’ll notice that your teacher is gone?”

“He’s never here in the daytime when she comes. We’ll just play like she’s here. I’m not learning anything from her anyway.”

“I have no doubt you’re right, but he has to know. Never put off bad news, Carleen.” She looked around and shook her head. “This room is a mess. Aren’t you embarrassed by it?”

“No,” Carleen said in a practical way. “It’s what I like in my room.”

“Well, we’re going to have to clean it up. I’ll help you.”

The two started making rather ineffectual efforts to clean the room. This primarily involved moving items from one place to another, and finally Kate laughed. “I swan, Carleen, you might as well sleep in the attic and use this place for your trophies.”

“Aunt Kate, tell me some more about when you lived in Texas.”

Kate Johnson had been brought up, along with her sister Loreen, in Lexington, Kentucky. But within a year after Loreen had married Leland Hayden, James Johnson had moved his family to Texas. Loreen had known none of the hardships that Kate endured on the wild frontier. It was these stories of frontier life that Carleen loved to hear Kate speak of.

“You’ve heard all about that,” Kate said.

“No, you always think of something else. Did you ever see a bear?”

“Of course. I saw a lot of bears. Shot one once. Bear fat’s good for drawing wounds.”

“Did you ever see an outlaw?”

“I saw one.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, there was a family called Robbins. They were no good. The oldest brother Earl killed a man.”

“Did he kill him with a knife?”

“No. Killed him with a shotgun. I don’t remember what the argument was about.”

“What’d he look like?”

“Oh, all the Robbins were good-looking people. He was a tall man, about six two, I guess. Had the blackest hair you ever saw and eyes to match. He had good teeth, too, I remember. A good-looking man.”

“Was you in love with him?”

“In love with him! I reckon not! Why would I fall in love with an outlaw?” Memories stirred in Kate’s eyes, and she said, “He came to my house once. I didn’t really know him, but he knew our family. He was on the run from the law. I was all alone in the house, and he came in and made me cook him a meal.”

“What else did he do?”

Kate suddenly laughed, and a sparkle came to her eyes. “When he got ready to go, he made me put all the food in a sack. Then he kissed me and gave me a gold coin.”

“He kissed you! Really?”

“He really did.”

“What’d you do with the gold coin?”

“Why, I still have it.”

“Aunt Kate, I want to see it!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a treasure. Come on, show it to me.”

Kate got up with a laugh. When she laughed she was a very attractive woman indeed. She usually kept her crippled hand behind her back, or at her side when strangers were there, but with Carleen she did not. “Come on then, I’ll show it to you if I can find it.”

The two went to Kate’s room, which was at the end of the hall on the second floor. When they moved inside Carleen said, “You sure keep your room nice.”

“Let it be a lesson to you.” Going over to a chest, she opened the bottom drawer and moved things around, finally arising with a small box. Closing the drawer, she came over and stood before Carleen. “Should be in here.” She opened the box and said, “There’s a collar button that my father wore. It’s made out of gold, too. Ah, here it is.”

Carleen reached out and took the coin. She held it almost reverently as if it had some sort of spiritual significance. Her eyes were wide as she whispered, “I wisht I could meet an outlaw!”

Kate laughed, “You’re not likely to in Little Rock.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

Kate laughed. “Give it to you in my will if you’re good. Now, let’s go down and help Ellie get dinner on the table.”

* * *

“I DON’T SEE WHY we can’t go ahead and start. No telling when Father will be here.” The speaker was Mark Hayden. He sat lounged back in his chair, toying with the fork beside his plate. Mark was just under six feet with a rather slender build. He had the same black hair as his sister Jori, and his eyes were a warm brown. He was dressed in the latest fashion, a pair of sleek brown wool pants, a white shirt with a red ascot around his neck, a caramel-colored vest and jacket.The jacket reached to his knees, had a rather large lapel that came down to midstomach where three buttons were placed, and then cut back to his sides.

Jori was glaring at Carleen. “You didn’t wash your hands. Look at them.”

“They don’t need it.”

“You’ve been out digging worms for those turtles of yours. Go wash them instantly.”

Grumbling, Carleen got up and left the room. When she was gone Jori turned to Kate. “Aunt Kate, can’t you do anything with her?”

“No, but time will take care of that. She won’t be digging worms in another year or two.”

Carleen finally returned and plopped herself into a chair. Almost immediately Ellie, the housemaid, came and said, “Your father’s here.”