Three Wishes (23 page)

I spotted Francesca in a group of girls her age, talking to some new arrivals—sailors, from the looks of them—and watched as one captain grandly introduced himself to each one, much to the consternation of the mothers, who diplomatically eased each of them away. It didn’t take long to figure out why; the captain was apparently British, and a staunch USA-fan, even as he took advantage of his Mexican hosts’ hospitality. But still Francesca stood there, talking to the man—twice her age—and smiling coquettishly, blushing.
Where is Doña Elena?
I thought with agitation. I realized Frani was pretty, on the brink of womanhood, but my blood boiled as if I was her older sister, realizing that this dude was moving in on a girl who was…vulnerable.

I thought about intervening but knew it wasn’t my place. Not yet.

Not yet.
I checked myself.

Did I think there would be a time when it
would
be my place?

The thought took my breath away.

Once more I looked around but saw Javier break away from Patricio and Rafael—both clearly a few mugs into the wine—grab Mateo, and head toward his sister, clearly intent on intervening. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Estrella came up beside me then, holding Jacinto’s hand. Despite the festive mood, the two looked positively grief-stricken. “Oh!” I cried, leaning over and looking into their faces. “What is it, Estie? Jacinto?”

“It…it’s Adalia,” said Estrella, dissolving into tears and clinging to me. “Her…her family is here.”

“They’re going to take Álvaro with them!” cried Jacinto, wrapping his arms around my waist from the opposite side of his sister.

“Oh!” I cried, tearing up. So it was happening, really happening. I leaned down, taking each of them in my arms. “I’m so sorry, my friends. I know this hurts so much. But listen. Listen to me.” I waited while they tried to get their sniffles under control. I put one hand on Estie’s cheek and the other under Jacinto’s chin, waiting for them to meet my gaze. “Adalia needs to go for a while. But I don’t think she’ll be gone forever. She just needs time to be with her own family. It will help her remember how much each of you means to her too. She’s…lost her place. But she’s about to find it again. And she needs this time to find herself. Can you trust God to restore her and your nephew to you in time?”

They both stared at me, big brown eyes streaming tears. Helpless, I passed my handkerchief from one to the other. Their grief at this impending separation made my own rise up fresh, and the tears rose in my eyes too as I took my turn with the cloth. It was disgusting, but what could I do?

A fresh handkerchief appeared, with the initials AV on the corner. I looked up, and there was Adalia, with twin tracks of tears streaming down her face. “Oh my dears,” she said to Estie and Jacinto, “I couldn’t have worded it better myself.” She hugged each of the children. “We are not gone from you forever,” she pledged. “Just for a time. And isn’t it sweet of the Lord to bring you Zara in my absence? She will be your friend when you are missing me.”

I swallowed hard. The girl was making promises I wasn’t sure I could keep. But hadn’t I just done the same for her? I felt my future spinning out of my hands and up into the star-strewn sky.

“We shall see you at the fall rodeo, come rain or shine,” Adalia promised, brushing her fingers beneath each of the children’s chins. “Now go and say your farewells to Álvaro. But don’t say farewell, will you? Just hug and kiss him and say good night, mind you?”

The two nodded miserably, then moved away.

But I thought there was a bit more hope in their stride as they left to do as she bid. She turned and put her hands on my shoulders. “Now, Zara. You see to yourself in my absence, won’t you? Your arrival has been a gift to the Ventura family, a gift they’re still unwrapping.” She turned to the right, as if sensing his presence. And I saw him then. Javier. Watching this whole thing go down.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to look at Adalia, when she continued to speak. “The children need someone …gentler, in their lives. Doña Elena…since her husband’s and Dante’s passing …the children need love. Laughter. Joy. I see that in you,” she said tenderly, making my eyes prick with tears. “And I will see it again,” she pledged. “I look forward to our paths crossing soon. Take close care of our family in my absence.”

I nodded, too strangled with words that longed to pour out—
not so fast
…
I’m not so sure about that
…
I, uh
…
don’t think so
…

And her words,
our family,
rang in my ears.

But I remained silent because what Adalia needed most right now was permission to leave. And somehow, some way, my arrival had given her that space. Something told me it was right. The knowledge of it was almost…holy.

Into that circle came Javier, taking my hand briefly and then Adalia’s. He wrapped his sister-in-law into his arms. “We shall miss you, with every heartbeat,” he murmured, making me weep more. Who
said
such things? Especially a guy? “Know that you forever have a home with us, sister. You and Álvaro. Send word, and we’ll come for you. Arrive on our doorstep, and your rooms will be ready. We are forever your kin, as much as when Dante walked this earth alongside us.” When I saw that he was crying too, I really lost it.

“I miss him,” he said, cradling her even closer and kissing her temple. “But I know you are doing what you must. Go, with my blessing. But sister, come back to us. Often, if you cannot come to us forever.”

Then, seeing me crying over his sister-in-law’s shoulder, he wrapped us both into his big, warm hug. Holding on to Adalia’s hand, he turned to walk sedately over to his mother, took little Álvaro from her—a tiny replica of his uncle—kissed him on both cheeks—softly, so as not as to alarm the child—and then gently handed him to Adalia. He kept a firm arm around his mother’s shoulders and looked at his sister-in-law. “Until we see you again,” he said. “
Vaya con Dios
.”
Go with God.

Then he turned his mother around and led her toward our tents, with me following behind, holding Estrella and Jacinto’s hands. Mateo hovered nearby. Where was Frani? I hadn’t seen her since she was talking with that captain.

I looked over my shoulder at Adalia, with her brother and parents gathering around her. Then, cradling her sleepy toddler, she turned and moved through groups of curious onlookers, into the dark, away from us.

And the curious thing for me, as a girl who’d only met this family a week before…was that I felt her parting as a tearing. As surely as she and Álvaro were my own blood kin. I shook my head.

I was just empathizing with the Venturas, wishing they didn’t have to go through this fresh pain.

Wasn’t I?

We were nearing our tents, Doña Elena now surrounded by friends crooning to her and offering her fresh handkerchiefs as she wept, Francesca finally arriving and leading her younger siblings away, when Mateo growled a warning to his older brother. Two black-coated soldiers joined me and Javier from either side, walking amiably beside us.

“It’s a shame, watching your family divide,” the one I thought was named Gutierrez said. Leon’s aide? “I hope the Venturas don’t suffer any further calamities this year.”

“Such as?” Javier asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, Ranchero,” he said, his tone falsely caring. “All sorts of maladies can befall a rancho. Cattle rustlers. Kidnappers. Fires in the storehouses.”

Javier abruptly turned to face him. “Are you threatening me, Captain?”

The other blackcoat stood beside Gutierrez, and Mateo silently stepped up beside his brother, his hands clenching into fists. He was young but scrappy.

“Threatening you, a Mexican loyalist?” Gutierrez said, casting him a wry smile. But his eyes held no merriment. “Why would I do that? With you running the most successful rancho in Alta California and paying your taxes…” His words fell away, as if he’d just remembered. “Oh, it slipped my mind. You
haven’t
paid your taxes. Let us settle up right now, shall we? It’d be terrible if we had to come to you in order to collect. No, that might require further taxation for our trouble.” His eyes swept over first Mateo and then me.

Javier stepped between me and the captain. “I am a loyal son of Mexico. But you and your contingent do nothing but damage our nation’s reputation. You skim from shipments bound toward the ranchos and call it further ‘taxes.’ You do nothing to chase down pirates that prowl the waters of your citizens. You allow the presidio to fall into disrepair. You build neither piers nor storehouses of your own, taking cattle and goats and fruit from us as if you are holy men in need, not soldiers, paid agents of our country. You are leeches,” he finished, leaning toward the captain. “So that is why I am
tardy
with my taxes, because I am reluctant to hand a
leech
a bowl of
blood
.”

Gutierrez didn’t flinch, but I saw his hand tighten around the hilt of his sword, as did the other man’s. Javier and Mateo were unarmed. “I’d be careful, Don Javier, if I were you. Your girl attacked one of our soldiers. We have just cause to take her into custody. And if we do not have your gold this very night, we shall do that
and
pay your rancho that visit.” He seemed to remember himself and straightened, smoothing down his coat. “It is our duty to take an equal share of their profits from every citizen. It would not be fair to your neighbors if I collected their taxes and not yours, would it?”

“No,” Javier said. “It would not be equitable. But how do I know that my gold will actually go to the capital, rather than line each of your pockets?” He crossed his arms and eyed the others.

Gutierrez gave him a small smile. “You must trust us, as fellow loyalists,” he said, lifting his hands. “Unless you are no longer truly a loyalist.” His eyes narrowed and turned toward me. “Perhaps your reluctance to pay is due to this mysterious girl’s presence, and why she behaved so inappropriately with the lieutenant? Is she truly a spy, Don Ventura, bent on sowing seeds of division among our peace-loving people?” He reached for me, and I shied away, clenching my fists. He smirked at me and turned back to Javier. “Perhaps we
do
need to take her into custody and question her thoroughly. Patricio Casales, too, as well as others in this gathering. It seems a shame to put a damper on the festivities, but…”

Javier’s jaw muscles tensed, and he swallowed hard. “Come with me,” he spat out and strode away. The two blackcoats followed behind him, sharing a triumphant glance, and Mateo took my arm as we trailed after them. I glanced at the younger teen, grateful. It was clear to me that being taken into custody by the soldiers would be very bad indeed. A shiver ran down my back, thinking of being locked in a cell with jackals like these holding the keys…

We followed them straight to a Ventura wagon, still loaded with barrels and crates of food, a guard sitting on either end holding a musket. Javier threw back a blanket, pushed aside a crate, and lifted out a small, heavy chest about the size of a football.

He set it on the open end of the wagon’s gate and lifted the lid. “I assume that our taxes, now paid in full, will make your lieutenant more mindful of his actions in the future, and I trust that none of you shall further press me, Señorita Ruiz, Señor Casales—nor any of my family.”

Gutierrez and the other soldier crowded in, glee in their eyes. The captain reached in and took a handful of heavy, golden coins and let them fall back to the pile beneath with a satisfying metallic sound. He grinned. “I believe that will be true,” he said, snapping the lid shut and sliding the lock into place. He lifted the chest and handed it to the other man. “Good evening, Don Javier, Mateo—Señorita,” he said with a cordial bow. “We wish you a safe journey home.”

They left us then, and I went to Javier and wrapped my hand around the crook of his elbow, wanting to give him some comfort. It had clearly burned him to hand over that money. “Is it not simply part of living here, Javier? A necessary evil?”

He shook his head and then rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. “A necessary evil. That is a good way to put it.” He gave me a rueful smile. “And at least I do not need to deal with that particular evil for another year.”