Paloma and the Horse Traders Read Online Free

different.
    How, he could not have said, beyond a pricking
of the caution he had learned through a lifetime of living on the
edge of danger. Some sense above the other senses warned him of
danger, and he had ignored it, in his eagerness to find a team of
horses and maybe get away for a few days from the grind of
work.
    And so he worried. What was supposed to be a
carefree journey to Taos in the casual company of a friend had
turned into wormwood and ash. All he wanted to do was go
home.
    Now they were in Taos, with the great annual
fair spread out before them. Marco had donned his clothes again
before they arrived, and he had made his visit to Governor de Anza,
a particular friend. They had chatted for a few minutes about
change and turmoil and Indian dangers before the governor had been
called away to open the trade fair.
    Marco had watched, uneasy, as de Anza spoke the
usual words, both conciliatory and adamant, to the various Indian
nations assembled. Wearing his most elaborate uniform and preceded
by an official bearing the royal mace, de Anza offered ten days of
unlimited commerce, after reminding the Indians of the Truce of
God, which must not be disturbed, on pain of disbarment from future
trading opportunities.
    “ You must honor the Truce of God and
trade in peace with your enemies,” the governor had intoned. “If
you do not, Taos will be forever closed to you and you will not
trade your hides, pelts, and horses for metal, knives, and blankets
to keep you warm. You men, raise your arms and swear
it!”
    White and Indian swore their allegiance to the
truce which would last from that day for ten days. They swore also
to leave peaceably and not lie in wait to ambush. “Go then, and
enjoy this time,” Governor de Anza shouted. “God bless us
all.”
    A priest—obviously new to the colony because he
looked so frightened—blessed the assembly, swung a little incense
around and shook some holy water, then retreated to the
thick-walled church. A great shout rose up as the fair
opened.
    With some pride—Paloma would scold him if she
knew—Marco couldn’t overlook the deference given to him and Toshua,
whose exploits on the frontier were well-known. He and his strange
friend walked past displays of silver and turquoise jewelry spread
on blankets, knives of fine workmanship, and metal pots that
Eckapeta would love to take to her friends camping on the Llano
Estacado.
    Though miserable, he put on a proud face for
friends and acquaintances. He wanted to see the stone walls of the
Double Cross. He wanted to see Paloma standing in the doorway with
their children beside her, maybe even both in her arms, because she
was a fond mother. He didn’t belong here, and he felt Taos closing
in on him.
    He stopped in front of a pottery display.
Toshua stopped, too.
    “ Friend, let us go home at first
light,” Marco said quietly. “We can get horses later.”
    Toshua gave him such a look—not one of disgust
or irritation, but understanding. He knows I am troubled ,
Marco thought with relief. He isn’t going to question
me .
    “ Toshua, something isn’t right. Do
you feel it?”
    “ I do.”
     
     

Chapter Three
    In
which a carefree afternoon is less so
    P aloma knew where she wanted
to take their outdoor lunch. Months earlier, she had suggested to
Marco that it was time for their little ones to play by Rio Santa
Maria, where shallow waters created the ford. Trouble was, with
summer and sheep, cattle and crops, there had been no time.
    Eckapeta knew the spot and nodded her approval,
as Perla packed bread and cheese in a cloth sack. She added dried
plums and bits of peeled cactus to the basket. With a smile, Sancha
gave Paloma a small crock filled with goat’s milk and a smaller
sack of cheese. “Marco tells me you are eating for two again,” she
whispered, as she made a little sign of the cross on Paloma’s
forehead.
    Just the thought of an excursion, no matter how
modest, vanquished Paloma’s queasy stomach and