We had no Christmas tree and no gifts. We gathered all the relatives, even Rachel and Aubrey, along with Aubrey’s father Udell, who’d been courting my aunt Sarah—my, how long had that been going on?—and shared a quiet meal at Aunt Sarah’s ranch house. It gave me a shudder deep inside to see the bullet holes across the doors, and rags stuffed in all the broken windows. Poor cousin Gilbert was not able to come to dinner, but he’d at least moved into his bed so we could use the kitchen table, which had been his bed for a week. His girl, Charity, had come from town, too. I listened carefully to the sounds and rhythms of their talk without adding my own voice.

  For a gift I gave them the prints I’d made of each person during the wedding. To Ma and Pa, I gave a set of each of their children, except of course Esther and me. Mama looked up at me and turned her head to one side. In the slanted light, she looked older than I’d remembered, and tired. Lines crossed her face and creased deeply at her eyes and mouth. “Mary Pearl? Come into the book room with me and set awhile.” Once we’d sat, she said, “When you go back to school after Christmas, would you please, do have one of the others take your likeness as well? I want to have all my children’s likenesses.”

  “Sure, Ma. I didn’t think about it before.”

  She stared at her hands, rubbing the back of one with her thumb. “We didn’t get a good crop of peas this year.”

  “Oh.” I looked over the shelves of books. They seemed so small, now, compared to the grand library at Wheaton. And Mama seemed purely addled, talking in bits about one thing and another just like Granny always did. Was this what age did to women? Or was it shock and death? What if Granny wasn’t addled but just sad? I felt as if I might stay sad forever, too.

  “Rebeccah’s friend. That doctor. Dr. Pardee. He’s taking good care of Gilbert. Reckon he’ll be coming back this afternoon. Maybe we can have beans instead of peas. Sun’s going down early. Mary Pearl? You didn’t really come all the way from Illinois by yourself, did you?”

  “Yes, Mama. I didn’t have any choice. And I’ve done it before, don’t you remember? By the time Pa sent the telegram I’d already bought the ticket.”

  Mama grabbed hold of me and like to squeezed the life out of me. “Oh, honey. Don’t you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

  “Apparently not as dangerous as staying here. Are we still in danger, or is it finished?”

  She mopped at her face with her apron. “I haven’t been so afraid since we crossed the desert to come here. Comanches and all. My ma died on that trip. I know our days are counted, and known, and numbered by Providence. It’s just that a body never expects so many to leave at one time. Your cousin Gilbert, I don’t think he’ll make it.”

  “Aunt Sarah said he’s doing better.”

  “He’s her littlest boy, never mind he’s twenty. She’s wanting to just will him better. Your littlest boy will always be your boy. Just like you are my littlest girl. I’d perish if anything happened to you.”

  “But then why were you so upset with me? Why did I get sent away? Why didn’t anyone tell me the whole Territory was about to explode like dynamite?”

  “At first I thought you’d be safe in town, married. Rachel has nothing to worry about there, except the usual things of housekeeping. She even has maids to help with that.”

  “It seemed like everyone here knew about them courting, Mama, and didn’t confide in me. As if you were all in cahoots with him. I wish someone had told me what was happening so I would not have been so surprised and, well … hurt.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. We didn’t mean to be. We could hardly get the mail, what with smugglers and bandits stopping everyone on the roads. If one of the boys rode across the desert, they’d be followed by men, and we’ve heard of some being waylaid and killed or robbed. I wanted to tell you, but by the time it was certain they were to marry, we were cut off from all trails to the mail at Marsh Station. And then, I thought you would be safer far away from it all. If we all perished, you’d be able to go on. It was only that Aubrey wanted you here so bad. Rachel, too.”

  “Ma.” I felt tears welling and near to spilling over. A bitterness came, too, with her words. The knowledge that Aubrey and Rachel had cared more for their wedding than my safety.

  “I ain’t saying it’s sensible. I’m just saying what I speculated. You and the little boys, you could take care of things. You’re mighty capable.”

  “I don’t feel capable. I was so sad about what Aubrey did, when he’d promised to marry me, I couldn’t study. I tried so hard and worked so much I didn’t even notice you hadn’t written. I’ve failed some subjects. I am all but expelled for my poor schoolwork.”

  “You’ll catch up with the others. I know you. You’ve got more gumption than Clover and Joshua put together.” She gave a deep sigh, patting me again. “For myself, I’m going through the change of life. Felt addled as Granny all those months. You know how she bursts into tears all the time? That’s how I feel, even now.”

  “I’ve taken down her memoirs. She cries all the time, but it’s not from that, Mama. It’s from true sadness. While she was remembering, she cried for her sadness and the sadness of people who died long ago, when she was telling me about their sore trials and tribulations. At first I thought it was because she had turned to a lunatic, but I think it was as if she was living it over, even though some of it happened long before she was born. She could just imagine how sad things might be and cry for them even though the people were gone. She’s got all these stories about the old days. She said it was important for me to know I come from a line of women who took a stand. You see, Mama, I didn’t mean to buck you. You were just so sad about Esther—we all are—it seemed like you wanted to lock me in a trunk. I thought I was taking a stand. I was just putting off getting hitched for a couple of years. It was Aubrey all het up about being married so fast. He made me scared.”

  “Well, Rachel was glad for his intentions. Afraid she’d be an old maid. Beccah doesn’t mind though. Said she’d rather be single than sorry.”

  Rachel’s going to be sorry, I thought. “You don’t mind if I go back again, just this next session, and try again? I want to go. Even if I don’t go next year and finish the art certificate, I want to go this spring. I feel like I should stay here, but my camera might give me a way to make honest money for myself, if I never marry.”

  “You’re a smart girl. But you’re too pretty never to marry. Did I ever tell you, you take after my sister Ulyssa?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “Well, you do. She was so pretty some men couldn’t look at her without falling down. You look so much like her some days I think I see her in the parlor and it’s you.”

  “I like that I look like her,” I said. I liked that I could flash a little smile and know my dimples caused men’s hearts to flutter, but I wouldn’t say that to Ma. Aunt Ulyssa made ’em weak in the knees, I thought.

  “Made ’em weak in the knees,” Ma said.

  I chuckled a little. Then I leaned against her shoulder as we sat on the settee. She wrapped her arm around me and said, “You go on back if you want to with my blessing. I never imagined what might come of it, you studying art. I never imagined what it would mean to me to have a picture-photograph of my own children. Reckon I had the notion that I could put you safe in a nice homey nest, and you’d never have any problems like I’ve had. You being my littlest, I wanted to save you from every trial coming your way.” I nestled in Ma’s embrace in a way I hadn’t in a year. In those minutes, it felt as if the weight of the Wheaton library lifted off me.

  My reverie was broken by the Yo-Yo flying through the air over our heads, landing smack through a window glass across the room. The shattering noise crackled like lightning. In two seconds, four boys ran through, looks of horror on their faces. Ezra hollered, “The string broke! It was wore out! Oh, Mama, he didn’t mean to let it fly, honest. I played it too much.”

  Ma just shook her head. “Well, one of you go tell Aunt Sarah we’ve got another broken window to fix. At least it’s not a bullet hole.”

  While the little fellows were hunting a piece of string, we cleaned empty dishes and got ready to head for the house. Rebeccah would stay at Aunt Sarah’s to help nurse Gilbert. Mama and I made eyes at each other, watching the sparks flying between Rebeccah and Dr. Pardee. It felt so good to have a secret between Ma and me. Funny thing was, I didn’t see any sparks between Rachel and Aubrey, just what I’d call courtesy. They acted as if they’d been married twenty years and it was only a few weeks. They were helping us carry things to our surrey, and Aubrey bumped into me once, and then handed me a crockery bowl, letting his fingers touch mine. I felt repulsed, like I’d touched something filthy. His face showed no feelings at all. Anyhow, since they’d have an eight-hour drive back to Tucson, he and Rachel were going to stay at our house, in Rebeccah’s room, probably for a couple more days.

  When I got home, I found a key for my door, which I’d never used before, and made sure to lock it when I went to bed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Brody rode to our house from Aunt Sarah’s the next morning, when the sun was at about ten o’clock. He swung off his mount. Pistols hung on both sides of his belt, tied low for easy pulling. He was knocking on the front door as I watched from the barn where I brushed Duende, getting ready to saddle up for a ride. Pa warned me not to set foot off our land, even to Aunt Sarah’s place, which we could see from here, without an armed man along. When I was a kid, I used to ride eight miles down to Maldonado’s place to visit Elsa. Times were just too troublesome now. Mostly what was on my mind was getting away from Rachel and Aubrey, who were making pleasant small talk in the parlor.

  Mama came to the porch and started ringing the dinner bell, too many times, so that we all knew there was some kind of news. I took off toward the house, aware that Duende was following me, like he’d felt put upon to have his morning gallop interrupted.

  Brody said, “The whole Maldonado clan has taken up lock, stock, and barrel and gone down to Sonora, Mexico, according to their headman. Their cook and the headman are living in the great house. I asked them when Maldonado was coming back and they said he never was. Miz Elliot said those servants would live there until Maldonado comes back or the railroad came through the kitchen, but anyhow, she sent me here to tell you folks.”

  Pa said, “Let’s ride over there, Clove. You boys come, too, but everybody bring a rifle.”

  I said, “I’ll come, too. My horse is ready and waiting.”

  “I’ll take your horse,” Aubrey announced, taking three long steps ahead of me toward the door. “Good thing he’s ready. You women wait here for us.”

  “I want to see Elsa’s grave,” I said. “Besides, Duende doesn’t like men riding him. He’s only well-behaved for me.” It was a lie, because my little brothers rode him all the time, but I took in all the faces in the room in a couple of seconds. They seemed tense but no one spoke up to chide me, either. In just a minute, all the fellows were out the door and headed to the barn, except Brody, who held the door for me. “That horse is going to throw him,” I said, hoping it was true.

  Brody’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Don’t let him pull his mouth.”

  Aubrey, in a three-piece suit and derby hat, had climbed into my saddle, not even realizing that the stirrup straps would be too short for him. His knees were shoved up to his chest like a jockey and Duende’s ears were pinned back like he was ready to unleash demons. He wheeled and reared and within a flick of his tail, he unseated that city lawyer, who landed, sadly, on his feet like a cat, still holding the reins. He proceeded to jerk the bit and slap Duende’s face with the tails of the reins. He growled through grinding teeth, “I’ll teach you some manners.”

  Thankfully Brody had sized up the situation before Aubrey hit the ground and with a good cutting horse under him, wedged between Duende and Aubrey. “This horse ain’t for that kind of ridin,’ sir,” he said. He whipped the reins loose and slung them over the other side with a soft whistle. Brody’s horse circled Duende like he was a lost calf, allowing Brody to catch the loose reins, pulling him toward me. Without any change of his face or tone of voice—which surprised me because I was gritting my teeth and ready to tear Aubrey’s hat off and slap him with it—Brody said, “We’ll get you a horse from the barn, sir. This here’s a lady’s horse. Ain’t your fault, sir. Some are just not cut out for men to ride, no matter how big they are.”

  I was furious at him for slapping my horse in the face, but anybody with some know-how could ride Duende. He wasn’t wild, just too smart. My mind whirled back to Prairie Longmore saying the girls had to learn how to handle difficult people in strained situations, keep polite, and speak softly and clearly. I set to wondering what kind of tea parties Brody had been to. In a heartbeat I was on Duende’s back, my face in his mane, murmuring to him in Spanish and peeking through the black hair to the two men there.

  I thought Aubrey would simply accept the change of horse, but instead he came to my side—reached up and patted my leg!—saying, “Hop down there. No reason I can’t ride this one if I change the stirrups. You stay here with the ladies, dear. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

  How dare he put his hands on me! I tapped Duende’s flank with my heel and left Aubrey standing there, wheeling that horse around at the gate to face the others.

  Pa shoved a rifle in Aubrey’s hands before he could come after me, and said, “We need someone to stay here and protect the women. Zachary, you stay by your mama.” Zachary groaned for a moment, but he checked the breech and slid in a bullet, mumbling his agreement.

  Pa, Clover, Brody, and Ezra caught up to me at the gate. Pa said, “You hang behind us, Mary Pearl, but not so far I can’t hear your horse.”

  “Yes, sir.” I felt I’d won that battle, and I was willing to do as I was told.

  We stopped at every rise and hill, scanning the horizons for any movement. The only things moving were coyotes and a few quail and rabbits. At Aunt Sarah’s place, my cousin Charlie, Aunt Sarah, and a couple of the other hands joined us. Sarah dropped back beside me, and the lot of us rode quietly toward the Maldonado hacienda. The reports were correct. A few chickens scattered as we entered the yard, but nothing else moved. Charlie led the way to the corrals and barn, and found two cows, one followed by a year-old bull calf.

  A woman came to the door, waving, smiling. “Tortillas? Tienes hambre?”

  Pa and the others spoke to her while I pulled my hat lower, urging Duende toward where Charlie stood in his stirrups, getting a look over the top of the house. “Dónde está la tumba de Elsa?” Elsa and I always spoke to each other in Spanish. I forgot I didn’t need to now.

  Charlie Elliot looked fifty years old. My twenty-two-year-old cousin was ragged with grief. He must have really loved her. “Yonder. They built a fence. But they didn’t put my name on it, and we were sure enough married. Her name is Elliot, not Maldonado.”

  “I know.”

  “I ain’t staying around here.”

  “No?”

  “Gil was supposed to go to West Point like our pa. Only, he’s too beat up now, even if he lives. He’d never make it through. I’m going in his place. Only—”

  “Only you were thinking about revenge, first.”

  “Stayin’ here is killing me. I figure I could get to Mexico and back in four days. How did you know, Mary Pearl?”

  “Because I see it in your eyes. I got some revenge of my own I’d like to do, but you’ve got far more reason for it.”

  We dismounted and stared hard between the iron curlicues at the name on the monument. It was too far in to so much as touch it. No one was allowed to caress even the cold stone.

  Charlie’s voice was raspy, but he said, “Yeah. That fella Aubrey done you wrong, sure enough. His pa ain’t like that at all. He says Aubrey takes after his mother, and blood will tell.”

  Blood. Crimson and cadmium and burnt sienna. I could imagine Elsa’s best sprigged muslin dress splattered with it, without any coaxing at all. But Charlie meant relations, not paint. Tears ran down his cheeks, unwiped, unnoticed. To bring my thoughts away from his pain and my shock, I thought back to that buggy ride where Aubrey had kissed me while Aunt Sarah and Aubrey’s pa Udell had taken a walk. I asked, “His pa going to marry your ma?”

  “Soon, I reckon.”

  “Then you’re going to West Point,” I said without asking. “You’re going there and not Mexico. Please, Charlie. I can’t even imagine how terrible you must feel. Nothing that bad has happened to me and I can bear my broken heart. But if everything I’ve heard about the German army and all the guns they’ve sent is true, you’re going to run into war down in Sonora if you head down there right now. They’re landing troops in Veracruz. Smuggling trainloads of cannon through Naco. It’s in the papers that we get at Wheaton.”

  “I read those articles you sent, all three. It’s sure enough happening right here under our noses. But I’m having trouble with my eyes so I don’t believe I can pass. I tried to read a book this morning and my eyes aren’t clear.”

  I dusted his shirt with my Stetson hat. “Pish. Sure you can pass. Your eyes will clear up when you get done weeping for Elsa. Ma told me that. I remember your pa. He was a soldier through and through. Everyone says you’re just like him. Aunt Sarah’s the smartest person anybody’s ever met. Gilbert’s the one I couldn’t picture being a soldier. He takes after our side of the family. Farmers. So, he’s going to marry that girl Charity, and your ma is marrying Udell Hanna. The angry neighbors are gone south, and everything is settling in. I’m going back to school, too. This time with Ma’s blessing. I’m going to become a photographer.” I hadn’t actually decided it until it came from my own lips, but I felt joyous about the decision. It was the right thing to do.