Madre de Dios! What in the Virgin Mother’s name has that girl done now?” Don Carlos muttered as he watched Tere maneuver the motorcar to a halt at the edge of the lawn.
Tere grinned and waved as if she were riding a float in a parade. She hopped from the car and flew across the lawn, holding up her long skirts and exposing her slender black-stockinged legs. She swooped on them, laughing and panting and tossing her chestnut curls as she unknotted the scarf from under her chin and removed the bonnet.
“Mamá, you look wonderful!” she exclaimed, once she had caught her breath. “This must be a miracle.”
Don Carlos snorted, and Doña Ana laughed.
“Perhaps not a miracle,” she said, “but it was the work of an angel—your protégée.”
“Becky?” Tere spun around in search of Allison, who had retreated to the concrete bench beside Nelda. “Of course, it was. I knew she would be a perfect addition to our household.”
“Enough about the confounded girl,” Don Carlos snapped. “What is that—that contraption doing here?”
“It is an automobile, Papá,” Tere replied with a giggle, “a horseless carriage.”
“I know perfectly well what an automobile is! I’m not a bumbling idiot! I want to know what you are doing driving it.”
“I bought it. I ordered it last fall when we went to the city for our Christmas shopping. The man told me it would probably arrive in late March or early April. When I picked it up, he gave me four hours of driving instructions and sent me on my way. Isn’t it beautiful? Mamá, perhaps when you are feeling stronger, I will take you—”
“You bought it?” Don Carlos had been staring at his daughter openmouthed since she announced the car’s purchase. “With whose money, may I ask?”
“My trust fund. Abuelita left no instructions on how I should use it, so I—”
“So you frittered away your grandmother’s trust fund on a passing fancy? Teresa, I thought you had more sense.”
“I frittered away nothing. I purchased it with part of my annual income. Anyway, Papá, a motorcar is not a passing fancy. It is a thing of the future, and, after all, this is the twentieth century.”
“Thing of the future, indeed! If you had been a good and docile child, you would be married by now and some other man’s headache.” Don Carlos began to walk away, shaking his head, when he turned back, and said, “What have you done with my buggy? Teresa, if you have sold my good buggy to help pay for that—”
“Do not worry, Papá. Your buggy is safe. I hired a man to drive it back for me. He should arrive sometime tonight.”
“A man? You gave my good horse and buggy to some stranger? Why did you not simply stand in the middle of Market Street and hand out the family fortune to passing beggars?”
“Honestly, Papá, you act as if I were a child. I did not simply hand over your horse and buggy without security. We struck a bargain. The man needed a ride to this part of the country, and I needed someone to drive the buggy home. I lent him the buggy in exchange for this beautiful chain and cross.”
Tere opened her overcoat and displayed a heavy gold rope around her neck at the end of which hung a gold cross. The cross was about two inches long and studded with six large rubies.
At the sight of the cross, Doña Ana gasped and slumped back in a dead faint.
“Ana will be fine, Carlos. She simply had too much excitement for one day. After years confined to her bed, her body is not used to so much activity at once. She needs some rest.”
Allison and Tere stood silently in the shadows, just inside Doña Ana’s bedroom door, and listened anxiously to what Dr. Guzman told Don Carlos.
“So she should not be allowed out of bed again?”
“On the contrary, Carlos,” Dr. Guzman replied. “It was never my intention that Ana become an invalid. It was she who shrank from the world, denying herself even the simplest pleasures. I could not even convince her to open the drapes. She claimed it hurt her eyes and brought her pain, remembering ... No, I fully support whoever was able to draw her from her self-imposed prison.”
Tere squeezed Allison’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, “Did you hear, Bequita? Isn’t it wonderful?”
“What else should we do, Alejandro?” said Don Carlos. “Are you leaving any medicine?”
“No, no more medicine. And stop giving her Magda’s concoctions. Tomorrow morning have Nelda open up the drapes and let in some air. As soon as Ana is up to it, take her back to the rose garden. But do not overdo.”
Don Carlos threw Allison a veiled glance. Tere caught it and squeezed her hand supportively. They both knew the first battle had been won: Don Carlos would no longer stand in their way with respect to Dona Ana. Allison wondered if she would have time to win one for Isa.
“He’s here, Allison,” Joshua whispered as he led her from her balcony and into the rose garden that evening. “I saw him!”
“Who’s here? What are you so excited about?”
“The man—the shaggy man who chases you in the woods. I was alone in the stable, getting the horses ready for the night, when he drove up in Don Carlos’s buggy.”
“So he’s the one Tere hired to bring the buggy back,” Allison murmured. “Are you sure he’s the right man?”
“I can only go by what you told me, but he seems to fit the description. Shaggy black hair and beard, ragged clothes, real sunburned. Looks like a hermit.”
“Sounds like him. Did you talk to him—ask him who he is?”
Joshua nodded. “A little, but he’s real skittish, not much of a talker. Asked me to let Miz Teresa know that the buggy had arrived and that she could keep the cross as payment for use of the buggy. He would be honored if she would wear it often.”
“He let her keep the cross? That’s strange. It looked awfully valuable. I’ll bet he could sell it for a lot of money.”
“He is peculiar at that. He looked tired and hungry, so I asked him if he wanted some food. He glanced around, kinda nervouslike—reminded me of a hunted rabbit. Then he thanked me and said no, he had food in his bag. But I could tell he was tempted, so I offered to let him sleep in the stable. He just shook his head, grabbed his bundle, and left.”
“He’s gone!”
“Sorry, Allison. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t force him to stay.”
“No, I guess not. But I didn’t even get to look at him, to see whether or not he’s the right guy. And we don’t know anything about him. We don’t even know for sure if he’s dangerous.”
“I know a couple of things about him. He’s honest. He could’ve kept the horse and buggy, but instead he brings them home and doesn’t even expect payment for his effort. Even gives away the one thing of value he owns to a woman he’s just met.”
Allison considered Joshua’s comment. “Those sure don’t seem like the actions of a murderer. But you said you knew a couple of things about him. What’s the second?”
“He’s a Spaniard. I could tell by his accent.”
The next day, Doña Ana seemed agitated and distraught. She begged to be left alone with the drapes closed. But once Tere had seen the progress her mother had made, she refused to give in to the woman’s whims and allow her to regress to her former invalid state. She drew the drapes and cracked open the windows. And she had Allison bring in several vases of fresh flowers. Then they sat with her and tried to make interesting conversation. But all their efforts couldn’t seem to distract Doña Ana from her state of distress.
Doña Ana kept staring at the cross around Tere’s neck. Tere had been pleased when Joshua gave her the news that the man had allowed her to keep the cross. She displayed it prominently against her chest.
At one point, Doña Ana said, “Tere, tell me about this man—the man who gave you the cross.”
“There is nothing to tell, Mamá. He seems like a sad man. I doubt he has a nickel to his name, and yet he was generous enough to allow me to keep this beautiful chain and cross.” Tere fingered the cross, holding it so the sun sparkled off the rubies, casting brilliant red reflections on the walls.
“Describe him to me.”
“Why are you so curious, Mamá? He is simply a stranger.”
“Humor me, mija,” insisted Doña Ana. “Tell me what he looks like.”
“Of course, if you wish. He told me he is a sailor and recently arrived in San Francisco from the coast of India. He looked like a sailor, skin tough and darkened by the sun, long black hair and beard, and quite ragged.”
“A sailor?” Doña Ana appeared pleased with the news. The tension seemed to lift from her face. “And ragged, you say?”
Tere chuckled. “Papá would definitely not approve of such an acquaintance, even if he is a Spaniard.”
“A Spaniard?” Doña Ana leaned toward Tere. “Did he say how a poor sailor acquired such a valuable piece of jewelry?”
Tere thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, he did mention it was given to him by a very dear friend. Oh, I truly must find him and repay him. This is too generous a gift.”
“Tere, listen to me,” said Doña Ana. “Did this man tell you his name?”
“Only that they call him El León. Why all the questions, Mamá?”
“Tere, this cross is an heirloom from my mother’s side of the family. Your father is not familiar with it, and unbeknownst to him, I gave it to Isa when she turned seventeen. The last time I saw it was just before she eloped with José.”