“You may not recognize the Senora
Aguilar,” he told the clerk, “but she is the widow of Alejandro Aguilar who was
murdered last year in the street before the plaza as he was exiting your
hotel. I expect you to take better care
of his widow. She has had a very harsh
and difficult life these past months.
“Her escort and body guard will
be arriving within a short while. You
will recognize him instantly—a tall American with a dark blue jacket, gray
trousers and a very large rifle. He is
to be escorted to the senora’s room and she will direct his lodgings. I would imagine she will want him directly
across the hall from her rooms. See to
it.
“I assume she has been assigned
the same rooms the Aguilar family has always occupied? Yes?
“I will take her there. Send Mr. Slade to us immediately. I will stay with her until then. ”
He led Ellen across the lobby and
down the side corridor. The Aguilar
rooms were at the end facing the courtyard on one side. Ortega-Garcia thought that there would be
plenty of room for Mr. Slade in the family suite except for the Spanish
insistence on a woman being chaperoned and not sharing any kind of quarters with
a male not of her own family. Then he
laughed to himself. Necessity had
mandated that the two spend the entire winter alone in an isolated cabin. If morality was a question it had long since
been answered. He would leave the
arrangements up to Ellen.
He took her into her sitting room
and she collapsed gladly onto a large velvet settee.
“Finally, peace and quiet.
“Finally, peace and quiet.
“Oh, Felipe! Yes, put those on
the table and I’ll think what to do with them later.” She exclaimed realizing the Felipe stood
respectfully waiting for instructions.
“Commandante,” she said shuddering with exhaustion. “I still have much to accomplish this
afternoon. I am going to need a boy to
run some errands, do you suppose there is one standing around in front
somewhere that Felipe could bring me?”
“Of course!” He told her then spoke to his assistant, “I
think I saw a youngster playing at the end of the street. See if he would like
to be a messenger for the senora.”
Felipe left on his errand.
“I am going to order us something
to drink until your Mr. Slade returns. What should I call for you?”
“You know,” Ellen answered. “I would appreciate a cup of tea so much. And some of those little square cakes… you
know the ones I mean? I have been
wanting some for the longest time. And
I’m sure Mr. Slade will like some too.” It seemed as though her good lunch had
disappeared, although it had been hardly an hour before.
Ortega-Garcia went to the side of
the fireplace and tugged the heavy blue cord hanging there. Within minutes a maid appeared and he ordered
tea and cakes—many of them—for three.
Felipe returned with a boy of
about 12 years old. Ellen first asked him if he spoke English or Spanish. He responded that he spoke both.
“Great.” Ellen said. “What is your name?”
“Gilbert, senora. Gilbert
Estevez. My mother is American. She
calls me Gillie if you would like that.”
He told her.
“Excellent! Gilbert, it is. I have a note for you to take to Mrs. Coulter. Do you know her? The
dressmaker in Via Ruiz? Good. Just a minute.”
Ellen went to the desk and wrote
a note to Mrs. Coulter telling her she was in town and in need of clothing as
soon as possible. Dresses, underthings
and night wear. Since she needed
clothes immediately she asked if the lady could bring any ready-made things she
might have on hand as well as samples and material to the hotel within the next
hour. She signed her name: Elena
Aguilar.
Ortega-Garcia watched her as she
returned to the settee. She had lost
weight he thought, but all in all she carried herself with much more
confidence. She is no longer the demure wife
of Alejandro Aguilar, he thought, but an individual who had faced adversity and
come out with a dignity of her own. At
the moment she was obviously weary.
He smiled to himself. And yet, he reflected, not too weary to
realize the advantage of asking him and Hernando to deal with Ellington. Elena was a very intelligent woman and he was
sure her father had instructed her in financial matters; but he knew that, had
she been reviewing the financial accounts, Ellington would have argued each point, doing
his best to put her in a poor light and by doing so, retaining a portion of the
funds himself. Ortega-Garcia remembered
the discreet handkerchief that had blotted the man’s forehead from time to
time. Oh yes, weary she might be, but
his Elena was an astute woman.
The knock on their door admitted
a maid and her cart loaded with a large teapot, cups, saucers and a large plate
piled with cakes. As she left the room, Slade held the door for her.
“Look at this! Cakes!”
He sounded like a greedy boy. “Do I have a room where I can clean up a
bit? I have road dirt and horse all over me.”
Ortega-Garcia directed him to the
room directly across the hall where the door was standing open. Slade hurried in and tossed his pack on the bed. When the door closed they could hear
splashing and various subdued clatters.
He emerged a few minutes later, just as Felipe had begun pouring the
tea, with clean face and combed hair, wearing a clean shirt.
“Look at you!” Ellen exclaimed. “You put me to shame. I haven’t even washed my hands! I should do that at least. I’ve not washed since I splashed water on
myself before daylight!” She put her cup
on the low table beside her and hurried into the other room to wash. Thanks to the big coat and heavy skirt she
had worn for the trip, her dress was presentably clean even though it was
rumpled.
“Now, I can eat!” Ellen sat on the little sofa and picked up
her tea. “I am spoiled, Commandante. Mr. Slade uses sugar and lots of milk in his
coffee. I learned to like that and now
my tea seems to need it too.” Felipe
materialized at her side with the little tray of milk and sugar. When she had finished he carried the tray to
Slade.
The big tray of cakes was placed
in front of Ellen who immediately took one.
“He knows who the cakes are for
at least,” the Commandante said, but
Slade reached across and helped himself to one ignoring the napkins as Ellen
had.
“Felipe, it appears as though I
will have to be quick if I’m to have any cake.”
And the Commandante took a
cake with pink swirls for himself. “But I still have work to do and I will be
leaving as soon as the crumbs are gone.”
He took a bite of the cake and decided it was so good he would need
another immediately. The cake
disappeared in four bites.
He finished his tea and
stood. “I need to be going. I will give
you until tomorrow to get settled. Then I must warn you that Beatriz will want
you both to dinner in the evening! So be
prepared.” He motioned Felipe to gather
the tea things and then giving them a quick salute, turned to leave the room.
As Felipe prepared to follow him,
Ellen called the servant back. “I cannot
have cakes and keep them to my self.
Please take two for yourself.
Wrap them in a napkin. The hotel
will never miss it and I’m paying for them anyway. Take two.
Go on!”
Felipe looked at her in
amazement. No lady had ever offered him cakes before. Elena Aguilar herself had
never before thought to offer cakes to a servant. When he hesitated, Ellen rose
from the sofa and wrapped two cakes in a napkin and pressed them into his
hands. Felipe accepted them
automatically, thinking of the treat they would provide for his wife late this
evening. In somewhat of a daze, he
thanked her and left the room.
Slade shook his head. “You just
made his world tilt, you know. Did it
ever occur to you when you lived in the hacienda
to give a servant cakes off the family’s serving tray?”
The question gave Ellen a
pause. “No,” she answered. “I guess it never did. But then I had never
suffered privation like the months before I escaped and I’d never eaten beans
and meat and a few canned vegetables happily for days on end. Now I think what his life might be like and I
feel selfish eating sweets in front of someone who cannot have any.
“You’ve taught me that. You and your God.” She smiled.
“Bring your chair closer and let me tell you about Mr. Ellington’s face
when the Commandante asked him why he
had refused me! He was so frightened I
almost –almost, mind you—felt sorry for him!
“And when the Commandante was
finished with him, Senor Gutierrez walked in!
Without the first knock or invitation!!
Oh it was funny. But I didn’t dare laugh.
“And, Eli, guess what! I am the sole heir in Alejandro’s will! Something had happened that made him fear for
his life and he wanted to be sure I was provided for! He didn’t tell Senor
Gutierrez what it was, but he safeguarded the property for me!
“I thought the property would
probably fall to me as his wife, but that he made me his lawful heir is beyond any
dispute! He visited town the day he died
to make his will. He even insisted that
four people witness it because he feared that with his death the witnesses
might disappear. Some might accept two
accidental deaths but not four! As it
was only Mr. Woodrow the banker was killed.
“But Alejandro was killed in the
crossfire of that gun fight just hours after he signed his will!
“Senor Gutierrez came in and
tossed his folder on Mr. Ellington’s desk!
On top of all of his documents!
My heart stopped. He was very
angry with Ellington!
“After he had hugged me and
welcomed me home and apologized for all of my hard times he turned back to the
desk and began pulling papers from the folder!
I suppose it held all of the Aguilar legal records for the last fifty
years.
First, he showed us Don
Francisco’s will naming Alejandro his heir. It seemed that Don Francisco wanted
to make it clear it was his right to allocate all parts of the estate. He outlined the status of other Aguilar relatives. He mentioned his brothers still in Spain
“When that was finished, he
pulled out Alejandro’s will and outlined the details of it. It was all indisputable, ‘ironclad,’ as Senor
Gutierrez said. The property is mine to
do with as I wish.
“If you could only have seen Mr.
Ellington’s face! It got whiter and
whiter and little beads of sweat kept popping up on his forehead.
“I still feel that I must notify
Don Francisco’s brother of Alejandro’s death, although I believe one of them
has passed away since the old don died; they already knew of that. I feel that I need to offer the remaining
brother any interest in the land that he might have. And ask if he wishes to
come and claim it. After all it was
granted to the Aguilar family. I’m not really an Aguilar and not even of
Spanish blood.
“Don’t you think that is the only
right thing to do?” Ellen looked at him
anxiously. A flood of expressions had
chased themselves across his face.
Slade was finding himself at
odds’ end in discovering that the homeless penniless woman he had come to love
was in fact a Spanish heiress. He was
offering her a one room house on the bench of the Jemez
Mountains and she already had a fine
house on the plain between the mountains south of Santa Fe
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