It's Decided Chapter 57

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A Crowded House Chapter 56

 

Much to Do Chapter 30 part 2

While Ellen sat looking at him he searched for words to retract his proposal that bound her to marrying him and give her the freedom to look elsewhere for a husband.  His life would be empty, but she at least would not be tied to a dirt rancher who chased his own cows.

The silence stretched on.  And then, in a flash of understanding, Ellen comprehended it all.  She jumped from the settee and flew to Slade where she dropped down on her knees in front of him.

“Don’t you dare get all noble on me, Eli Slade!  Whether it is a little house on the side of a mountain or fine house in Santa Fe, it will be nothing and empty if you aren’t there to take care of it and me!”  Tears welled in her eyes.  She pounded on Slade’s knee with her fists and then rested her forehead against them.  “You cannot do this, Eli.  You just can’t.”

She straightened up and wrapped her arms around his waist. Eli’s heart melted within him.  His hands shook as he saw her emotional storm.

“Ellie, can I do this to you?  Can I want you to be my wife when you could be so much more?  Is it fair?”

“No, Eli.  It isn’t fair to ask me to face all the problems of what to do with the land and the house and the out buildings and all the people who used to be dependent on the Aguilar family.  I have no idea what to do and you want to make me do it all alone.  Just because I happen to have more money in the bank and a bigger ranch than you do?  It isn’t fair, not at all.  I’ve learned to depend on you and love you; how can I do this by myself! 

“And it isn’t fair to ask me to give up the joy I’ve had these last few days.  ” 

When she leaned back, her face wet with tears, he had no answer. She stood up and walked across to the window. 

“Ellie, can we think about it?  Will you consider the rightness of it?  I don’t know what I’ll do without you, but you so far out rank me now.  Is it right to be my wife?  Is--”  he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“It’s Mrs. Coulter.”  Ellen said.  “Just a minute,” she called. 

She wiped her eyes.  Slade came to stand behind her.  He stroked her back and turned her between his hands.  She rested her face against his chest and he couldn’t keep his hand from smoothing her hair even as he argued against his right to do it.  When she raised her face, he still bent his head and kissed her with all the tenderness of his being.

Fighting the onset of more tears Ellen could only say, “I have to meet this lady now.  She is bringing samples and dress patterns.  I need some clothes besides Madeline’s.” 

Slade released her shoulders and stepped away. He felt as though his heart was ripping in two.  Ellen touched his cheek very gently and turned away to go open the door.

In the process of her welcome to Mrs. Coulter Slade slipped across the hall.

Mrs. Josephine Coulter had been making dresses and fine clothing for the ladies of Santa Fe for nearly twenty years.  She had made Ellen’s wedding dress and every piece of clothing she had worn since.  Ellen was happy to see her again and stood back in amazement at the bundles and clothes carried in on the arms of her staff and Gilbert, the errand boy.  When all of the things were distributed around the room to her satisfaction, Mrs. Coulter dismissed all of her staff except one lady. 

Gilbert looked confused.

Ellen crossed to the case on the table by the window and took out one of the smallest coins for him.  “If you can wait in the courtyard, I will have other errands for you later perhaps.”

Gilbert assured her he would be there and left holding more money than ever before in his life! The coin would pay for his services for the next month-or more!

Mrs. Coulter, meantime, was opening packages and had already arranged several things on the settee.  “If you will let me know what you need, I’m sure we can help you,” she told Ellen.  She was a small fussy woman who fancied herself Santa Fe’s leader in fine dress designs, she made sure to get the latest style papers from the east and even some from European modistes.

Ellen gathered her scattered thoughts.  Regardless of the situation with Slade, she needed clothes desperately. 

“I was taken hostage, Mrs. Coulter.  I escaped with only the clothes on my back and nearly died before I was saved by an American rancher to the west of here.  The only clothing of my own that I am wearing now are my stockings and my shoes.  And neither of those is in very good shape.  Everything else is the former property of Mr. Slade’s deceased sister in law. 

“I need underthings-shifts, petticoats, pantaloons. I need a nightdress. I need a robe.  I need at least one good day dress and another plain day dress. Or I can use a skirt and waist-shirt.  If you have anything ready made that will fit me, I am certainly not too proud to take advantage of it.

“I put myself in your hands.”  Ellen thought wearily that she didn’t care about the clothes; whatever Mrs. Coulter suggested was fine. 

All she could think of was Eli, in the other room.  Whatever would she do without him?  The sun that had shone so brightly just this morning was gone.  The excitement that she had experienced when she heard of the inheritance was gone. What good was property or money without him to share it?  How could she live in a fine house and know he was alone braving the storms and cold to check his cattle all winter?

Mrs. Coulter was chattering on about a ‘lovely’ shift that was just the latest thing, “look at the dainty tucks below the bodice.”   See how it ‘emphasizes the bust line without being immodest or suggestive”   And these lovely petticoats- “see how the flounces begin at the knees and make two layers giving fullness at the bottom but a slim waistline. I designed them myself and they have been very popular.”  And this! This is the newest fashion, they are called “pantalettes” so outré!  They are shorter than pantaloons and have this cunning tie at the waist, ‘reducing bulk you see.” And notice, they are constructed of silk allowing them to rest smoothly between the skin and the shift.

Mrs. Coulter rattled on, never realizing she only had part of Ellen’s attention, “`And I have several of these in stock as sample pieces.  The sample pieces are always in the smaller sizes thus deceiving the larger woman into envisioning herself as dainty lady when she wears them.  I usually have them left on my hands, but you are so small. Yes, Senora, I believe you have even lost weight since the last time I served you!  You are so small that I‘m sure they will fit with very few alterations.” 

Ellen approved each one.  Those which fit she accepted immediately not caring if the waist was a little large as long as the length was right.  Other things she sent back for alteration.  Afterward she wondered exactly how much and what she had bought.

After the underthings were out of the way, Mrs. Coulter stood Ellen on a short stool and took her measurements, jotting the numbers down in a small book.  Glancing down, Ellen saw that her name was at the top of the pages and understood that the old measurements were being replaced by new. 

“I have brought two dresses with me for your approval.” Mrs. Coulter went on.  “One is a nice walking dress in a dark blue that would suit you.  If you would like to try it on I can see how it will fit.”

“Oh no,” Ellen answered.  “I have not had a chance to bathe since I left the ranch.  I am dusty and dirty from the trip.  I cannot put on your lovely dresses.” 

“Well, let me call the maids and we will have water sent up.  Jessie can help you bathe in front of the fire.”  Mrs. Coulter moved to carry out her plan immediately and Ellen was left to follow along.

In a few minutes, while Ellen looked on, the maids carried a big hip bath with buckets of water into her bedroom.  They placed them before the fire off the sitting room.  Jessie, under Mrs. Coulter’s direction, took Ellen into the bedroom and the filled hip bath.  When she offered to help her into the bath, Ellen absolutely refused to let her help.  She could undress and bathe herself. When she had chased every one out she removed Madeline’s clothes and lowered herself into the warm water. 

It felt heavenly; she took the smooth rose-scented soap the hotel provided and lathered her hair and body.  She rinsed her hair and soaped it again.  She used another can of clean water to rinse her hair then piled it on her head and wrapped it in one of the towels.  She scrubbed her body again and paid close attention to her hands and nails.  They had been neglected during months of hard work.  When they were clean and her nails as white as she could make them, Ellen stood up in the tub and poured the last of the clean warm water over herself.  She took another of the infinite supply of towels and dried herself, then dropped the towel on the floor to step out on.  When she was out of the water she wrapped herself in another towel. 

Jessie had left the underclothes, shift and a petticoat on the bed.  Beside them there was an ivory dressing gown.  She put on the ‘pantalettes’ that Mrs. Coulter was so proud of. They were really just shortened pantaloons, but Ellen did like them.  The shift was tight and fit snuggly under her breasts where tucks allowed them room in the front instead of flattening them as a normal shift did.  Ellen wasn’t sure she felt entirely comfortable in it, but it was the only thing available besides her dirty one.  She put on the petticoat over the shift and was pleased with the fullness around her feet.  She didn’t even remember seeing the dressing gown earlier but when she put it on the waist tied securely with a sash and the wide V of the bodice covered her breasts with a froth of ruffles.  She left her head wrapped in the towel and went out to see what Mrs. Coulter was doing.  Her entire bath, as much as she felt she had luxuriated, had only taken a short while.

The lively lady had been busy folding the things to return to her shop, sorting the things Ellen had specified into separate packages.  She exclaimed over her beauty to such an extent that Ellen was embarrassed.  She insisted that her friend was exaggerating and walked to the fireplace to begin drying her hair. 

“Let Jessie do that for you,” Mrs. Coulter insisted.  “Sit here.”   She led Ellen to the settee and took the comb from Ellen’s hand to give Jessie.  Jessie began picking gently through the long wet air. While her clerk did that, Mrs. Coulter brought the two dresses over for Ellen to look at.

“I believe this one will fit very well if we simply shorten it.  I’ve checked the measurements and they all match pretty well.  I should take it up a bit in the bodice if you want. The ladies like them tighter to show their slim waist and a generous bust line.”  Ellen tried it on and found it fit her perfectly except in the length.

“No, no.” Ellen answered.  “This is fine.  Just make it shorter and I’ll be happy.”

Then Mrs. Coulter brought out the other dress not nearly so fancy but still attractive.  This too was very nearly a perfect fit and could be adjusted easily. 

“I need something to wear tonight; do you have anything that I could possibly use?”

Mrs. Coulter looked around.  “I don’t have any more dresses.  I do have this skirt and a matching shirt waist.  Look at this.”

She held up a tailored skirt that hung smoothly in the front and flared at the sides into fullness in the back.  Ellen loved its deep burgundy color.  The white shirtwaist had tucks on the front with burgundy piping edging them. The collar had an edging of burgundy around it, too. The shirt waist fit perfectly and the skirt was only slightly long. If she wore slightly higher than her waist and walked carefully it would do until Mrs. Coulter had time to hem the other dresses. Without Slade, the joy in her new clothes and the wonderful feeling of her bath was gone.  Not even the fragrance of the sweet soap surrounding her brought a smile to her face. If Slade weren’t close enough to notice it, why should she enjoy it alone?

Much to Do Chapter 30 part 1

Felipe carried the leather packet and the heavy case of coins. With the advent of a brisk afternoon wind, Ellen had donned her old coat before Slade drove off in the wagon, but when the Commandant escorted her in to the hotel desk, clerks and waiters popped up at their elbows.  The lady might look like a beggar in her old coat, but Ortega-Garcia was recognized instantly and accorded the proper respect.

“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. 

“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 because they had already declined any part in the Aguilar grant due to the fact they felt they were too old to make the journey and had no surviving heirs.  The property was clear and could be distributed as he saw fit.

“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.

Distinguished Friends Chapter 29

“Let me see.  Commandant Ortega-Garcia should still be living here.  He retired when the state became an American territory, but his holdings are still extensive.  He may know where Senor Gutierrez is living now.  I think we can walk to his town house.”  She started out walking north and soon came to a wide plaza.  On the eastern side there was a wall with a wide arch opening into a courtyard. 

She walked confidently into the courtyard.  Immediately a uniformed man met them and politely inquired of their business. 

“Please tell the Comandante that Elena Aguilar is here to see him.”

“Of course, if you will follow me.”  In spite of the worn shawl over her simple dress and her escort’s less that tailored appearance, the servant was polite.  He led them into the house and down a short hall to a reception area. “If you will sit here, I’ll tell the Commandante.”

He left them to find their own chairs, but almost before they could sit down a large white haired Spanish gentleman strode quickly into the room.

“Elena!  It is you!  My dear, I thought you were dead!  Hernando will be overjoyed!  He has advertized for information regarding your whereabouts.”  He took both her hands in his and then released them to embrace her!

Ellen was as happy to see her husband’s old friend as he was to see her. She turned to extend her hand to Slade.

“Commandante Ortega-Garcia, I would like to introduce you to the man who saved my life.   This is Mr. Eli Slade.  He found me when I was nearly dead in the snow and carried me into his house.  He has provided me with a bed in his loft for the past months until he was able to put his own affairs into such order as to bring me to Santa Fe.

“Mr. Slade, this is Commandante Ortega-Garcia, my husband’s padrino, his godfather, and long time friend to me!”

“Mr. Slade,” the Commandante exclaimed.  “You have my eternal gratitude!  We have searched for Elena.”  He stopped.  “Ellen, you would say.  She has always been Elena to me.  We didn’t worry during the summer because Beatriz thought she was secluding herself in mourning.  But when we heard nothing of her as winter began, Senor Gutierrez sent someone to the Ranch to inquire of her and Margarita, but the buildings were open and emptied of all valuables. The rooms were full of trash and then we began to worry about our Elena.”  He turned to Ellen.

“We found Margarita’s grave.” He turned back to Ellen and said simply. “I’m sorry.

“But come in come in.  Sit down. Tell me what has happened.”  He led them from the hall into his office.  He offered coffee and with it came some rolled confections. 

As they drank their coffee, Ellen related the events preceding her escape in the teeth of the first storm of the season.  “I don’t exaggerate when I tell you that I was near death when my horse took me into Mr. Slade’s yard.  I had tied myself to the saddle horn and when he released me, I would have fallen had he not caught me.  I owe him a tremendous debt of gratitude.

“Senor, I’ve come for your help.  Someone has been posing as an Aguilar relative and has informed the bank president that I am deceased.  He refused to look at my identification and practically threw me out of the building. 

“And I discovered the Senor Gutierrez is no longer in the offices above the bank itself. I had hoped he could verify my identity.  I need you to come and tell this self-important Anglo who I am!”  Ellen spoke as though she had been born and raised as a Spaniard. 

Oh ho, mi damita!  Never fear.  Hernando will be more than happy to provide you with an identity!  He has no love for the ‘self-important Anglo’ as you call him.  I will send Jorje directly around to let him know his lost dove has returned!

“Now, more coffee?  Can I help you in any other way?  I will need to finish up my paper work, but in about 20 minutes I can meet you at the bank.  And I’m sure Hernando will be there too.  He will enjoy rubbing Ellington’s nose in this!”

Ellen thanked him effusively and started to leave then stopped.  “One more thing, could you have Jorje or one of your other men go by the hotel and request the rooms for the Aguilar widow be prepared.  If I go in this state they will refuse to recognize me, too!”  Ellen laughed.

“But, mi damita. You are welcomed here, of course.  I would be honored to have you here.”  Ortega-Garcia said emphatically.

“I thank you, my dear friend. But we will be coming and going constantly during our short stay here in Santa Fe.  There are many things to be arranged and people to contact. I don’t want to disrupt your peaceful household.”

“Yes, yes, I understand.  You are ever considerate.  I will need to bring Beatriz to visit you as soon as you are able.  So keep that in mind.”  He stood and escorted them to the door.

When they left Ellen was giggling.  “I cannot wait to see Ellington’s face!  I cannot wait! 

“Eli, do you have enough money for us to get something to eat in the café across from the bank.  I’m famished and those cute little sweets with the coffee only fed my appetite. It didn’t satisfy it.

“I promise, I’m a lady of means.  I can always pay you back.”

“Ha.  You can, can you? Perhaps I’ll hold you to that!”  Slade said.  “Of course we can eat.  And then I’ll have to put the horses away. We cannot leave them standing in the street after their long trip. Can I trust the Commandant to take care of you and escort you to the hotel when you are finished with your Mr. Ellington?   

Ellen squeezed his arm as they walked quickly back across the plaza and down a few doors to a little café.  They were able to go in and have a hot filling meal before Ellen had to be at the bank.

In slightly less than twenty minutes they saw the Commandant step down from his small carriage in front of the bank.  Hurriedly, Slade paid their bill in order to go across the street.

“I wish I could see Ellington’s face when you walk in accompanied by both Ortega-Garcia and Gutierrez, but I cannot let the horses stand any longer.”  He escorted Ellen to the Commandant’s side and explained his errand.

“I wish you would take her to the hotel when her business is finished,” Slade requested.  “I will meet her there if your carriage is not still in front of the bank.”

Ortega-Garcia agreed promptly and offered Ellen his arm.  “This should not take long.  I will stay in the hotel until you return, Senor.  I suspect that the imposter Aguilar will not be pleased to find himself supplanted. 

“Do not worry.  She will be safe.”  Ortega-Garcia’s eyes twinkled with suspicion and delight.  Mr. Slade, in his opinion, was a man in love.  And his godson’s dainty widow was much in need of a man by her side.  He watched Slade climb onto the wagon and drive around the corner toward the livery. 

Santa Fe was a diverse blend of Spanish and American frontier.  The old man had learned to live easily with the clash of cultures and had no reservations about Ellen’s possible attachment to the Anglo.

When Ellen entered the bank the second time, the teller’s face blanched.  He didn’t wait for a request or a command but hurried into the president’s office. 

Mr. Ellington came out with much less haughtiness than he had the first time he met Ellen.

“Ah, yes, Senora!  You are back.”  He had no time for further conversation because Commandante Ortega-Garcia broke into his smooth speech.  

“I have been informed of your rudeness to my old friend’s widow.  She tells me she offered to bring you several papers verifying her identity and you refused them on the basis of her supposed death. 

“She has also informed me of your reference to another Senor Aguilar who has a previous claim to the property and finances of Alejandro Aguilar y Garcia.  I will tell you instantly that Alejandro was the only surviving son of his father.  His only brother died in childhood.  Don Francisco had no relatives in this country and indeed I am doubtful that there are any cousins in Spain who might have any claim to the grant.

“Whoever this is who has presumed to present evidence of her death and of his own entitlement to the land is an imposter. 

“But we will be able to discuss that later.

“Now we need to look at the sum of the Aguilar holdings in trust to this bank and whether Senora Aguilar will decide to leave them in your hands…Yes, my dear.”  Ortega-Garcia deferred to Ellen who had begun to speak.

“Commandante, if you could send someone to the livery and ask Mr. Slade for the leather packet stored in my box, we will have my father’s final deposit receipts and ledger sheets to compare with the bank records as well as several other documents confirming my identity.  I’m sorry I forgot it.”

“Yes.  Excellent idea.  Felipe,” he spoke to his man who had accompanied him, “you heard the senora. You will recognize Mr. Slade at the livery?  Good. Go then. Quickly” 

“And you sir.  Do you always keep your institution’s foremost patrons standing in the hallway like beggars.”

Ellington was beginning to sweat.  In fact he was far past beginning; he was becoming very nervous indeed.  The Aguilar account composed the major cash reserve of his bank.  He had a very agreeable working arrangement with the presumptive “Senor Aguilar” regarding the distribution of funds.  In all actuality, Ellington was fully aware of the Aguilar claimant’s imposture but their agreement was too lucrative to countermand.  And after all he had presented a few credentials that could be construed to prove his identity acceptably.  Now in the face of a verified and valid heir, Ellington’s decisions regarding the large sum on deposit were being called into question.

Before Felipe was able to return with the leather packet, Hernando Gutierrez came striding into the bank and straight through to Ellington’s private office without any announcement or permission.  The opportunity to best the haughty banker was too great to allow waiting another instant.  He brought with him a fat leather bound portfolio.

Ellington had seated his visitors in chairs facing his ornate desk and then seated himself in stately splendor behind it.  Gutierrez strode up to the desk and tossed the portfolio down on top of the ledger sheets designed to make the banker seem important.  Then he turned to greet Ellen as effusively as Ortega-Garcia had earlier.

He turned to Ellington.  “Now let us end this idiocy once and for all.”   Without invitation he flipped open the packet of files on the big desk, scattering the banker’s papers in all directions.

“I have here the last will and testament of Alejandro Victoro Aguilar y Garcia.  He was very anxious that there should be no question of his wife’s claim to his estate should he die unexpectedly.

“I got the impression he suspected that might be very possible.  As it stood, his signing of the will with several witnesses preceded his death by only a few hours.  He didn’t see fit to explain to me the source of his suspicions, but given the events following in the next several months, it would seem they were well founded.

“And now given the arrival of this impostor and the involvement of this bank, as they say in English, ‘the plot thickens”   Let us put an immediate end to this.”

He turned to the desk where he sorted through the portfolio without any concern for Ellington’s scattered bank documents. 

“Here we have the will of Don Francisco, leaving all his property and money to his only son Alejandro.  There being, as it states clearly here, no other eligible surviving Aguilar relatives of an age to inherit.  As I understand there may be a brother still living in Spain, but he apparently had no interest in migrating to “New Spain,” as Don Francisco was pleased to call us!” 

He laid out the will before Mr. Ellington knowing full well that the man could not hope to read the legalistic Spanish.  “If you would like for Senor Ortega-Garcia to translate it for you I’m sure he would do that for the pertinent passages.”  He cast a questioning eye at the Commandante.

Ortega-Garcia rose to comply but Ellington quickly intervened.  “No, no, no.  That isn’t necessary.  I know you are recognized as a man of the highest ethics.”

Gutierrez did his best to hide his own gratification at that statement.

“To go on then.  Here is the will prepared by Aguilar-Garcia only hours before his death.  As I said he was very anxious that there be no possibility of any one questioning the validity of the will so he required that there be four witnesses.  He wanted to insure that one would still be alive to testify that they had all witnessed Alejandro’s hand regardless of intervening events.  Evidently he had reason to believe any witnesses might disappear and the will be open to dispute.

“There are three of those men living today.  Mr. Woodrow, the former president here, was the fourth witness.  He died in a tragic carriage accident shortly after Christmas. But Mr. Ellington, fortuitously, was visiting family in Espanola and the bank was able to replace managers without any delay.”  

He glanced across the room to meet Ortega-Garcia’s eyes in a solemn gaze. Then his glance returned to the paper in his hand.

“So, the will of Alejandro leaves his entire estate to his wife, Ellen McPherson Aguilar, to do with as she sees fit.”  Here Gutierrez stopped and looked at Ellen.  “And may I say that I would sincerely hope she will see fit to remain in our community and provide employment opportunities for our young men.  But we shall see.”

“Are there any more questions, Senor Ellington? 

“No? I should certainly hope not.”  

Ellington nodded in agreement, already worrying how he would broach this news to his own Aguilar claimant.

“Now,” Ortega-Garcia stood up.  ‘Felipe has returned with the Senora’s packet.  I think we should give it to her to open for us. 

“Hernando, if you would replace your papers in the folder please.”  They waited a short while as Gutierrez neatly collected and stacked the wills.

Ellen stepped to the desk and removed the stack of papers from her leather envelope.  Working precisely she began laying them out across the desk, now gleaming and empty since Ellington had hastily bundled his documents into a drawer.

“These are my marriage lines, signed by the Padre Navario on the day of our wedding.”  She held it out to Gutierrez who confirmed that it was in deed the marriage verification.

“This sizable packet of papers is the original land grant to the Aguilar family signed by the King himself.”  Again she handed them to Gutierrez who looked at the last page for a minute in awe.  There was the signature of King Ferdinand II himself dating back to the 1500’s!

“These are the ledger sheets I removed from the book kept by my father for Don Francisco and Alejandro until his death last spring.  I assume that Senor Gutierrez can verify the handwriting.”  She again passed the papers to Gutierrez, who nodded and looked at the final total. 

“Finally, this is the receipt for the transactions made just before my father’s death. This leather envelope and the receipts were left tossed into the brush at the roadside beside my father’s body.  I assume the bandits were not able to read and so didn’t realize the value of the papers.  Or perhaps my father was able to toss it there as the bandits attacked

“I would guess that the pretender Aguilar has wished many times for something so concrete with which to press his claim.

“I am exceedingly weary of all the wrangling today. I have just made a journey of two days and spent yesterday afternoon in a freezing wind that compelled us to take shelter in a rough canyon windbreak last night.  I will leave the study of these numbers to Senor Gutierrez and Commandant Ortega-Garcia.  And, of course,” she paused with a bit of disdain in her voice, “Mr. Ellington.

“Senor Gutierrez, I am seriously in need of funds for myself.  I have no clothing of my own and I have cost Mr. Slade a great deal of money for my care.  I also need funds to see to the refurbishment of the hacienda and the lands around it.” 

Although Ellen was a very good bookkeeper in her own right, she was very tired and expected that there would be many fewer questions and much less quibbling from Mr. Ellington if the other two men dealt with the sums and balances.  She sat down in the very comfortable high-backed leather arm chair and leaned her head against the curve of the head rest.  She looked so exhausted that Gutierrez pushed the bank president to give a quick justification of the totals on deposit. 

By this time, Ellington was in such a panic that he didn’t dare allow a hint of how loosely he had been administering the Aguilar estate and how much of it had found its way into his own coffers.  He presented the loosely kept, but actual accounts. Fortunately the numbers coincided fairly well with those to be found on the ledger sheets.  No mention was made of interest due or other appreciation to the account.  Ellington hoped he would be able to keep those appreciable sums his own secret.

Ellen was overcome at the size of the balance that was apparently hers to administer.   But for the present she only needed enough for her personal use and to arrange for the repairs of the house and property at Los Llanos.  Later concern could be given to the livestock and crops.  Senor Gutierrez quickly outlined a letter of authorization for her to draw such funds or direct their release to her designated representative. As much as Ellington disliked carrying out his obligation to sign the authorization he was forced to do so in the presence of two such well recognized individuals.

She asked for the release of funds with the understanding that she would very likely be returning for an additional withdrawal for materials when the extent of the damage was known and to name designated representatives who would carry out the repairs.  Ellington would have preferred to tender it in American paper currency and frankly it would have been much easier to carry, but Ellen was suspicious of the quality of the new American money as much as the man’s integrity and refused any but silver or gold coinage in various denominations.  It made several sizable stacks of coins.  Upon consideration, Ellington provided a small leather bound cash box for the heavy coins.

Ortega-Garcia made his carriage available to take her to the hotel. He insured that her leather packet was repacked with all the vital papers and that her heavy money case, compliments of the bank, was placed on the seat beside her.

“Now let’s get you to your rooms before your Mr. Slade becomes anxious.”  The Commandante handed her into the carriage as he would have the loveliest senorita in silks and lace.  He nodded to the driver and they made their way up through the plaza to the other end where the hotel stood in its early Spanish splendor of arches and fountains and paved courtyard.   

Fresh Meat chapter 12

Ellen grabbed her coat, stuffed her feet into the boots to run out the door still buttoning the coat and tying the belt.  Fetcher was jumping in circles around the man leading his horse with something tied on the back.  She ran to meet Slade.

He was stumbling with weariness but she couldn’t make out what was on the horse instead of him.  Ellen ran to Slade and flung her arms around his neck, nearly in tears with relief. 

“Where have you been?” she cried.  Feeling him falter under her weight, she slid her shoulder under his arm and steered them toward the barn. 

When they were inside she could see the weariness in his face.  On the horse he had bound two quarters of beef! 

“What in the world!”  She exclaimed.

Slade shook his head.  “Found a cow, just taken down by a lion as I was coming home.  I couldn’t just let all that meat lay there for the varmints when we have hardly any.  I used my knife and the axe to get the hind quarters carved off for us.”  He grinned wearily.

“Now all I need to do is get it piled somewhere for the night and finish up here before I fall over.”

“I already have everything done except the milking!”  Ellen told him in delight. “I was so worried that I had to do something.  But I simply cannot get any milk from that cow!”

“Aaaah!” Slade sighed.  “That has to be the best news I’ve had today!

“All right then, let’s put this meat somewhere.  I suppose piling it on the feed box will serve.  There is nothing much here to eat it and if a mouse gnaws on it he can’t make much of a dent in it.  We’ll let him have it.”  He pulled the top-most knot free and with a heave, transferred the hide covered haunch to one end of the box.  The other was propped against the first on the opposite end.

“Now we’ll get the horse settled.” He began stripping the saddle from the horse, swinging it on the rail where it was always placed.

“I’ll take care of him.” Ellen said, stepping up to the horse’s head. “If you will get the milk out of that cow, we can be ready to go in at the same time.”  She handed Slade the milk bucket she had rescued from the feed box just before the first quarter of beef landed where it had been.

Ellen watched Slade make his way to the cow pen.  She wished she could do the milking for him; he was so evidently tired and cold.  He seemed to be moving by sheer determination.  She quickly wiped the horse down.  Since the snow had just begun it wasn’t very wet so some firm wipes with a wisp soon had it in good shape.  She led it to the pen and turned it in with its team mate.  After a couple sips of water the horse began nibbling on the hay.

Slade finished the milking at the same time and Ellen took the bucket from him. They turned toward the house.  Fetcher was waiting for them.  Slade was rapidly running out of energy and took advantage of Ellen’s offered shoulder gripping it as hard as he dared with each step.

When the door opened a wave of warmth and good smells billowed out: onions, beef, and coffee. It made Slade’s head reel.  It had been a long time since his coffee and roast venison for lunch.  Ellen took the milk to the cupboard shelf and Slade hung his outdoor clothes.

“Oh, I left the canteen tied to the saddle.  It’s empty.”  He grinned at her.  “The tortillas are long gone.”

“That’s why I made them.” Ellen answered.  “And we can get the canteen tomorrow.  I’ll have the beef warmed up in just a couple minutes and the coffee is already hot.  I just took it off when I heard Fetcher barking.”

“Let me wash up first,” Slade returned. “Then I can fall right into bed when I finish eating.”  He picked up the wash pan and filled it with warm water from the reservoir. After Ellen’s arrival he had made it a habit to wash in the pantry so that is where he took the pan.  Then he came back for a clean shirt, soap and his towels.

Ellen had the beef on the stove but she set the coffee back on the side too, just to be sure it was steaming when they ate.  She strained the milk into a clean crock then washed the bucket and the straining cloth.  After she had washed the cloth she took it to the door to whip in the fresh air.  Tiny icy bits of snow swirled around the porch and found their way in the door. Slade had made it home in time to beat the weather.

Slade shook his hands free of water and slid them back through his hair.  He dried them on the towel and stepped out of the pantry as Ellen poured the coffee then lifted the stew from the stove to the table.  He pulled his chair out and dropped into it wearily.

Ellen went around the table and took her place across from him.  With a tired, grateful sigh, Slade held out his hand across the space between them. “Could we thank the Lord that I’m home safely.  And with a nice supply of fresh beef!” 

He grinned at her as she put her hand in his. “Dear Father God, I am so thankful for a warm house and food to come home to.  I thank you for coming home to the barn work all finished and thank you for a friend here to greet me.  Thank you for the food and all your blessings. Amen.”

And Ellen found herself answering, “Amen.” 

She took the dipper and scooped a generous portion of stew into his plate making sure he had plenty of broth and meat. She slid the plate of tortillas toward him. 

The two of them had gotten in the habit of carrying on a conversation about the day’s events, but this evening Slade was exhausted.  He didn’t have the energy to talk.  Ellen stayed quiet, too.

They finished their meal.  Slade scooped some of the beef into the pan for Fetcher, who appreciated the warm food even though he had helped himself to plenty of scraps around the beef carcass.   After he gobbled the stew he slurped a few mouthfuls of water and curled himself on his blanket. Slade dipped some hot water into the dishpan as Ellen scraped the remaining stew into a small bowl and wrapped the tortillas up for later use.  They cleaned up together and Slade heaped ashes over the flickering flames in the fireplace.  Ellen checked the stove and closed the damper on the front.

“You can do what ever you want,” she told Slade, “but I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day.”  She grinned at him then picked up her shawl from the back of the chair and climbed her ladder. 

Slade took the candle to his bedside and read briefly from his Bible before snuggling into bed.

Morning brought a few inches of snow blowing around the yard.  It was nothing like the threatened storm of last evening.   Slade slid out of bed quickly and dressed for the cold. He dipped two buckets of water and headed for the barn, hoping to let Ellen sleep a while longer.  The snow, although it had piled up, was being whipped across the pasture below the barn baring the grasses growing there.  He gave the cow water but turned the horses out to fend for themselves.  They flung their heads and bucked around the fence finally running down toward the pond.

Slade stood watching them with a grin on his face, then turned back to give the cow and calf some hay.  While Sarah munched contentedly, he hurried through the milking.

Ellen was still sleeping when he returned.  As quietly as possible he strained the milk and cleaned up. By the time Ellen came down her ladder he had made coffee and had cornmeal cooking.  

“I thought I’d let you sleep because we have another big day today.  We need to get that meat cut into manageable sizes so when it freezes we won’t have to chop pieces off with the axe.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?  Is it frozen already?  I could have gotten up but I didn’t even hear you!”

“Don’t worry.  It is only a little firm.  That’ll make it easier to cut evenly.  We can eat and then get at it.” 

They hurried through breakfast and hauled the meat to the porch.  Slade decide to skin the haunches and avoid the dirt from the winter hides in the house.  Then he carried the first piece inside.

“I cut off the legs.  I figured we’d have plenty of meat even if I cut it down to pieces I could carry.”  He laid the first big haunch on the table.  “I think if we cut big wedges down from the hip to the hock we can lay it out to freeze and then bring one in the house every few days as we need it.”

“First, let’s trim off this section where the animals have chewed on it.”  He began slicing the ragged pieces from the flank side of the hind leg.

Ellen grabbed the kettle and began tossing the pieces in it.  When he had finished, she hung the kettle over the flames to begin sizzling.

“What are you doing?”  Slade asked.  “We really shouldn’t eat that.” 

“I’m cooking it for Fetcher.  He likes lightly fried meat and stewed meat.  If I cook this here, he can have both!  I can save it a couple days for him.”

Slade shook his head. “You spoil that dog.” 

He went back to his cutting.  As he cut the long heavy strips from the bone, Ellen stacked them on the counter of the cupboard.

“When we finish with this where are we going to put them?”  She wondered out loud.

Well, we have two places.  One we can lay them out on the table in the ‘dobe house until the freeze, then we will move the frozen pieces to the meat house to keep till we need them.”

“Now where is that?”  Ellen wanted to know.  She hadn’t seen any house that could hold meat. 

“Jacob built a meat house on the north side of this one.  It is mounted on two posts and is high against the end under the eaves above where the spring flows out.  That side of the house stays cold all the time.  Even in early spring you can find snow there.  We put meat there till about time to use it and then bring it in and hang it in the pantry.   Didn’t you notice that there was always a slab of bacon or a leg of venison in there, no matter how much we used?  I was replacing it from the meat house.

“This beef is a good addition.  Things were getting low.” 

 “The things you two did!   I would never have thought of that.  I wonder if we had something similar at the ranch.  I didn’t do much with the cooking.  There was always sewing to do and I preferred that.  And after the house staff was gone I had no one to show me a lot. Tia Margarita was too old to do much. Meat hardly lasted long enough to spoil”

By the time Slade finished trimming the meat from the bone, they had a large pile of wedges about eighteen inches long and five or six around. He wrapped several of them at a time in pieces of bags.

“We’ll take these to the ‘dobe house and lay them out on the table or where ever we can find a flat surface. When they freeze they will be nice and straight--stackable.”  He had several piles of meat wrapped in bags.

As he put his jacket and hat on, Ellen hurried to do the same.  She could only carry two of the piles, but she started out the door as Slade picked up the rest.  The adobe house was only a short distance behind the main house so the trip was quick.

Once inside, Slade laid his armful of meat on the cupboard and began spreading the cloth across the table. Then he took the pieces of beef and placed them side by side but not quite touching on the table.  When that was filled he finished by putting the rest on the shelves and work surface of the cupboard . 

‘Those should freeze in short order and then we will have a place for the rest.”

“What will we do with the other big piece until these freeze?”  Ellen wondered.

“We’ll have to put what we still have in the house on the bed.  There’s a net of rope under the mattress.  If we smooth it out the pieces should freeze relatively flat laid on there.”  He prodded the mattress.

“Maybe we could just put it in the pantry for a couple days,”  Ellen suggested.  “Won’t it freeze if we leave it outside?”

“That’s a big chunk of cow to put in the pantry.  And it is already starting to freeze.” Slade answered. “Let’s skin it off and trim it down.  Then we can try stacking it on the bed.  If that doesn’t work we can put it on the table in there until tomorrow.  This should all be frozen solid by then and we can put in away.” He picked up the left over pieces of flour sacking and looked around at their work.  “It looks like fish lying out here, doesn’t it?”  He referred to the long wedge shapes of the pieces.

Ellen grinned, “So let’s go get the rest of the catch and get this finished.” And they headed back to the house for the remainder of their ‘catch.’

Slade turned their attention to the big piece of bone left on their table.  It still had quite a bit of meat on it.  Ellen took her smaller knife and began trimming the pieces from the bone and putting them in a bowl.

“We can trim a lot of this off for stew and then maybe Fetcher will appreciate the bone.”  Fetcher had been staying on his bed all day, watching the progress of the butchering.  When Ellen had it pretty well trimmed, Slade came in with a plain carpentry saw.

“If we can cut it in two pieces and he will have a two or three day supply.”  With Ellen holding the bone as steady as she could, Slade sawed the big leg in the middle.  “I’ll put one up on the porch roof to freeze and he can have one now.”  Then he suited actions to words and gave the dog one end of the bone.  The other he took outside.

Then they began processing the second haunch as they had the first.  While Slade worked on it, Ellen dumped the scraps she had cooked for Fetcher in his pan and set it on top of the cupboard for his supper.  After she scrubbed the pot out she put several handfuls of the scraps trimmed from the bone into the pot and replaced it over the low fire to broil as they finished up.  She hoped it would be ready for their own meal when they finished. 

The bed held their strips of beef without any problem.  The weight spread evenly over the whole surface and didn’t bend the strapping at all.  The frozen strips would be almost as straight and flat as those on the table and cupboard.   Slade and Ellen sighed with accomplishment as they came out of the ‘dobe house and latched the door securely.

“Tomorrow we can stack them all in the meat house.  Good eating for the rest of the winter probably.”  Slade clapped his hands at their success and threw a snowball for Fetcher to chase. 

While Slade went to do some neglected work in the barn and deal with the prodigious pile of manure patties, Ellen went back inside to check on the progress of her pot of meat simmering over the fire. She finished trimming the big leg of its tags of meat and stored the bowl in the pantry for use tomorrow.

She stirred the meat and added water to make a rich broth.  At one time her mother would have added potatoes and onions with perhaps a carrot for good measure.  Ellen had only onions but the stew would be hot and filling with the cornbread she had made yesterday. 

After looking around a minute she decided to make a stack of tortillas. She had no corn, but the flour ones were perhaps easier and certainly as tasty.  They were easily stored and always provided a quick snack or addition to their meal when time was short.  She made the dough and set it aside to rest while she swept the floor and wiped quickly around the flat surfaces and window sills to collect the day’s accumulation of sand and dust. It busied her hands while she waited and helped maintain her hard work of the day before.

With the griddle heating on the freshly stoked stove plate, Ellen began patting the tortillas and baking them.  A tall stack had soon accumulated on the table beside her.  On a moment of inspiration she patted out a round of dough and spread it on the table.  She then took her long knife and cut it into wide strips divided across the middle.  When she had several tortillas’ worth of strips she scooped them up and dropped them one by one into the kettle of simmering meat while she stirred them around. When they were all rolling slowly in the broth she replaced the lid and went to make coffee for their meal.

 Her timing was perfect and Slade came in with a red face and cold hands.  He pulled his boots off and held his hands over the warm stove before he even removed his coat.