The Valiant Women (61 page)

Clinging possessively to his arm, Cat said, “Oh no, James, this is your place, too. You can have both! Come on, hurry! We have to find the twins! And you must see Santiago's little girl, Sewa.”

Miguel fell at once under James's sway, not that he tried to lead. Patrick, jealous, taller than James, and as heavy though over a year younger, made one taunt about Apaches. The ensuing tangle resulted in a draw, both boys too exhausted to fight further, and after that, they were friends. James was enchanted with Sewa and often took the cradleboard from Caterina and carried her himself.

He'd kept up his roping skills—how, it was probably better not to ask—and made a good hand for the spring roundup. He was a fine horseman, too, though he said Tordillo had been slaughtered for food last winter when food was scarce.

It pleased him greatly to know Santiago's cattle were his. “I won't have to kill my horse again to eat,” he said. “I wouldn't have done it, but the children starved.”

He was soon on easy terms with Chuey and Belen, but Rodolfo was nervous of him even though James had matter-of-factly accepted white clothing. He wouldn't cut his long hair, though, and wore his headcloth.

He was respectful to Shea who welcomed him wholeheartedly, bringing home to Talitha the thought that however Shea mourned Socorro, he'd never blamed James for setting in motion the events that led to her death. James remembered, though. And he'd stiffened with shock when he heard what had happened to Santiago. Sometimes Talitha saw him and Cat outlined on the hill by the crosses.

“What are you doing up there?” she asked Cat one day.

“We take them flowers.” Cat wriggled restlessly against Talitha's arm. “James says I look like mother. Do I, Tally? Will I be as pretty as she was?”

“Prettier, I think. You've got your father's eyes.”

Cat shook her head. “I don't want to be prettier. Just
as
.”

Talitha laughed and kissed her, but there was a small bewildered knot of hurt in her. She was blessedly happy to have her brother back, glad and relieved that he'd slipped into place without trouble, that he and the twins were companions and that instead of seeing Cat as a reproach and reminder of his childish transgression, he was protectively fond of her. But in that last closeness, Talitha felt excluded, shut out.

Where she'd once been the most important human in James's world, now she was the woman in charge of the house, respected and obeyed where once she'd been loved. He showed more affection to Anita, who, recovering from shock, soon petted James as much as he'd allow and brought him special dishes.

Cat had James's love now, and she returned it with adoration. When John Irwin came and James faded away, she faded with him. She, who wept over dead animals, went hunting with him. When he wasn't working cattle, they were inseparable.

The twins were usually along, too, so Talitha didn't think anyone but she noticed the special bond between them. Cat's motherliness found in James someone who needed it as much as tiny Sewa but who couldn't accept tenderness from an older person. In her, he had a lovely soft little being who thought him completely wonderful while sensing that in some deep part of his soul, he needed her.

They had each other. The twins had always shared everything. And Shea had his bottle.

Why?
Talitha wanted to shout at him when that secret current flowed between them and he hastily left or busied himself with something that dissipated its force.
Why? You don't have to love me, just let me love you!

There was a kind of waiting in the days, a mounting tension in the atmosphere, as the air grows heavy before a thunderstorm. When John Irwin brought word that war had broken out, Shea said nothing at all, but a few days later he rode into Tucson.

When he returned, he called in all the men and Anita, the twins and James as well. “I'm convinced the North won't give Arizona the government and peace we need,” he said. “I'm equally sure the Confederacy will, so I'm going to fight for it.” He handed Talitha a large envelope. “While I'm away, Talitha's in charge, with Belen foreman. I've seen a lawyer and made a will. Tomorrow I'll go see the Sanchezes, and then I'll leave as soon as I can.”

He glanced from startled face to startled face, added heavily, “It comes hard to leave you, with dangers all about. But we know Mangus still holds his hand over the Socorro, and James should be more help, in case of a raid, than I could be. I've talked with John Irwin and the Fort Buchanan commander. Even though they know I'll be fighting against their uniform, they've promised to be watchful for you. Irwin, especially, will assist in any way he can. Are there any questions?”

“Can't we go with you?” the twins cried.

Shea encircled each with an arm, roughly. “I hope my going now will keep you both from having to fight later. You're to help Tally and do what Belen says. I rely on you.”

Cat flung her arms around his neck, clinging wildly. “I don't want you to go, Daddy! Please don't go! I don't want you to leave me!”

His face twisted and he held her close. “I don't want to leave you, sweetheart. But I must.”

She sobbed heartbrokerily. James came and led her away. “Caterina,” he said with a sternness that halted her weeping though tears continued to flow. “A man must fight when his time comes or he is no man. Your father is a man.” She buried her face against his arm but made no more protests.

The vaqueros inclined their heads. Belen stepped forward. “Don Patrico, I will die before harm comes to your children or the
doncellita
. Go with God. Return to us.”

Shea's visit to the Sanchezes took two days. While he was gone, Talitha searched frantically for some way to make him change his mind, but she thought of nothing. He was determined, she knew he would go, and she thought she would die without him; never to see his face, not to know if he was well or if he was even alive.

After everyone else had gone to bed the night of his return, Talitha was finally alone with him. “I went to the San Manuel and wished Tjúni luck in case I don't see her again,” he said. “Cinco's a fine little lad. Looks pure Papago except for a reddish cast to his hair when the sun hits it. If it ever comes in your way, Talitha, will you be his friend?”

She nodded, too angry and sorrowful to trust herself to speak.

“There's one more trip I'd like to make,” Shea continued, eyes holding hers. “Let me go to Marc Revier. Let me say you want him to come.”

“No.”

Shea's breath sounded dragged from him. “Tally, Tally! I want you to be happy, have your strong young man.”

“Is that why you're going away?” She looked at him in sudden dread. How could she bear it if her trying to be with him had caused this? “Oh, Shea, if it is, then you stay here! I can go to my father.”

“And take away the center of the house?” He sighed deeply. “I could wish you'd go with Revier, Tally, or he'd come to you. But till there's a man you love, your home is here.”

“I love you. It's you I've always loved.”

He didn't speak but watched her with tormented eyes. Coming around to him, she knelt beside him, carried his hand to her breast, held it above her heart. “Shea, love me before you go away.”

“Tally, I mustn't.”

“Why? What can it matter if you're leaving? It's not something you'd have to live with.”

He put her fiercely from him, got to his feet, crossed to the other side of the table. A pulse hammered in his temple, beat in his throat. “God above, girl! Have you any notion how hard it's been these weeks to keep my hands off you, keep from warming myself with your sweet fire? I'm not going off to fight because of you, but if I didn't do that I'd sure have to do something else!”

“You could take me.”

He stared at her.

“I want your baby,” she said in a whisper. “I want you to come alive again and laugh and be happy, Shea, please—”

He took a long breath. His tall lean body relaxed. “I don't deserve such loving, but I would lie to say I don't want it. But you must have your chance, Tally. I belong to the first times, to Socorro and Santiago.”

“You can belong to my time, too.”

“Maybe. Maybe.” He smiled at her and it ran over her heart like sun, letting her hope. “Let me fight my battle, Tally. That's how I started my life in this new world. It may be how I can finish that life and begin all over.”

Her blood seemed to face after being frozen. “Shea, you mean—”

He threw back his shoulders, looking younger than he had in a long time. “If I come back, and you're still of a mind, we'll marry.”

And then he was around the table and she was in his arms. She had never been so happy. She had never been so sad.

She could scarcely believe it. But—
when he came back?
That could be so long. And a quickly suppressed voice whispered that he might not come back. She looked up into his eyes, caressed the scar on his cheek.

“Shea. Oh my love, we can wait to be married. But please don't make me wait for
you
.”

“But, Tally—”

“Let me have that. Let me have that to remember. Shea, if you leave me without that, I don't think I can bear it. Just this night, be my man.”

He took her in his arms, swept her up and carried her to his room. He loved her with sweetness and fire. Sometimes, he slept. Talitha never did. This time was too precious. She kept her hand lightly on him, loving him so fiercely that she didn't know how she could endure life without him. But she had this, and so did he. Something that might bring him home.

Next morning, Talitha, the twins, Cat and James rode with him as far as Fort Buchanan. Talitha had brought Sewa in her cradleboard fastened to the saddle horn. Dismounting, Shea shook hands with his sons, kissed Cat and Sewa. Last of all, he kissed Talitha and it was a man's kiss to his woman.

“I want to come back now,” he said, laughing, though his eyes were moist. He glanced at the children. “Take care of them for me, Tally. Take care of yourself.”

Unable to speak, she tried to smile and nodded her head.

They watched him out of sight in the bright new day, Cat weeping softly. Talitha could only bear the overwhelming loss and desolation by remembering. At last he loved her!

Nothing could take that away.

When they could no longer see him at all, Talitha reined her horse and led the way, back to the Socorro. She would hold it for him. And wait.

Turn the page to continue reading from the Arizona Saga

I

Talitha cleared the supper dishes from the oak table before she turned to confront the young, redheaded Irish doctor from Fort Buchanan.

“John, it's kind of you to take this trouble, but I can't leave. The cattle, the horses, the land, everything Shea and the others worked for—it's up to me now to hold it together.”

“Shea's gone to fight the very army he expected to protect his family and ranch,” John Irwin said grimly. “He'd never dream of wanting you to stay now that all the troops in Arizona—not that there were ever that many—are pulling out.” He glanced from the twelve-year-old twins, dark, lithe Miguel and tall, wiry, flame-haired Patrick, to seven-year-old Caterina, who was rocking little Tosalisewa, just past her first birthday. “He'd value these children—and you—above the ranch and the whole damn boiling!”

Shea's last words when he rode away had been to tell Talitha to take care of the children for him—and to take care of herself. Not a word about the ranch. He couldn't have guessed that within a few months the federal government would abandon this region that already called itself Arizona, though it was legally part of Doña Ana County of the Territory of New Mexico. The Overland Mail had stopped running in April; and now, in July 1861, the troops were pulling out of Fort Buchanan, only about four miles from the ranch, and Fort Breckinridge, about fifty miles northwest of Tucson. Laughably small forces to oppose the swift-raiding Apaches; but now even they would be gone.

Looking at the children, Talitha saw in them their parents who'd braved scalp hunters, Apaches, and the fierce country to reclaim this old Spanish land grant in 1847 after it had been deserted for over twenty years because Mexico had been unable to defend its northwest frontier against Apaches.

Caterina flashed a smile from those startling gray-blue eyes, otherwise looking so much like her mother, Socorro, that even after nearly eight years Talitha felt a rush of grief and need for the kind and lovely woman who'd been her foster mother. Socorro's looks were echoed, too, in Miguel, but Patrick was the image of what Shea must have been as a boy, blazing red-gold hair and eyes the dark gray of a thundercloud. Though he liked John Irwin, the boy glared at him now.

“We can't let the ranch go to pieces! And Mangus is our friend. Isn't he, James?”