Paloma and the Horse Traders by Carla Kelly Page B

with him, the man who had buried his first family.
He looked for derision in the old fellow’s eyes and saw
none.
    “ The … the …
chapel?”
    Emilio nodded. “She told me to watch for you,
because she did not want you to worry, but,” he looked back into
the room, “we were busy, no?”
    Marco nodded. “I am sorry for my foolishness,”
he began, but the old man took his arm and gave it another
shake.
    “ You care and you love. That is
all,” Emilio said. “When you are not here, we watch them as you
would. Go now.”
    Marco ran to the chapel. With no hesitation, he
folded back the rag rug in front of the altar, grabbed the candle
snuffer, and lifted the ring in the floor. The wooden flooring came
up smoothly and silently. The stairs his great grandfather had
built were wide enough to walk down, facing out. He felt the
tension leave his body as he saw the soft glow of lamp light and
smelled Paloma’s good posole .
    He continued along the brief passageway,
following more lights as it widened into a room tall enough to
stand in. And there they were, Paloma with Claudio on her lap, her
eyes closed, her lips in his dark hair. Exhaustion seemed to
radiate from her like heat. Or was it something else? Had she
missed him as much as he missed her? The knowledge that she had,
covered him like a benediction.
    Eckapeta held Soledad, who looked up and saw
him. She clapped her hands and leaped from the Comanche woman’s
lap. “Papa!”
    As much as he adored Soli, Marco had eyes only
for his wife. As he watched, she opened her eyes, blinked in the
gloom, then let out a sigh. “Marco, my goodness but I have missed
you.”
    With a sigh of his own, he sat beside her, Soli
on his lap, closing his eyes in pleasure and relief. He leaned
against her breast, relishing the softness of her. She was the
heart of his home, his true star in the meadow.
    She kissed his head. “I hope you did not worry
when I did not meet you at the door.”
    “ I did. I am a fool,” he
whispered.
    She kissed his head again, pressing her lips
down more firmly. “You are no fool. We just aren’t much good
apart.”
    Soli curled up in his lap and he leaned on
Paloma. In a few months he would be able to put his hand on her
belly and feel the next Mondragón. After Paloma’s earlier troubles,
Claudio had seemed like such a miracle, and yet here was another
proof that God loved them. He was dirty, tired, and frightened at
his own irrationality, wondering if the Comanche Moon would rise
tonight, and here he sat under the church in his hacienda,
grateful. Who could understand God’s tender mercies?
    “ I have a smelly trader upstairs
with an arrow wound that must be tended,” he said finally. “I spent
all my Taos money on a captive girl for you, because if I had not,
the Comanches who brought her in would have killed her.”
    “ Are you the only good man in this
entire colony?” she said seriously.
    “ I might be,” he said, not so
serious. “Anyway, the youngest trader, Diego Diaz, has brought back
the two matched bays I want, and I will pay him here, since I spent
it all there.” He nuzzled the back of his head against her breast
and she laughed. “Come to think of it, we could have left him
behind to die. I wouldn’t have to pay for the horses.”
    “ And you would be sleeping in the sala forevermore,” his sweet wife told him. “Will we be safe
above ground? We are heartily tired of sleeping down
here.”
    “ I believe we are safe enough. My
guard is good and Toshua and I will take turns on the parapet
during the night.” He set Soledad aside and helped Paloma to her
feet as Claudio slumbered on. “Let me carry him up the stairs and
put him to bed. You might want to look in on the
trader.”
    He raised the trap door, but stopped as a
scream cut the air and wavered on, before dropping into a whimper.
Paloma clapped her hands over Soledad’s ears. The anguish came from
the room where the trader lay. More than likely, Marco’s