Daughter of Fortune by Carla Kelly Read Free Book Online Page B

sending up
clouds of dirt. Maria looked at him and smiled. He was covered with
the white dust of the trail, even as she was.
    When Diego lifted Maria down, she looked around her.
The courtyard of the governor’s palace was a spacious plaza,
surrounded on all sides by government buildings. A small man-made
stream emptied itself into a tile-rimmed pool. Grass grew with more
success here than in the plaza outside and paths had been laid out
with gravel and rimmed with early spring flowers in orderly beds.
She could hear the tinkle of a wind chime.
    Maria ached from her hours in the saddle. She wanted
to dip her dusty fingers in the tiled pool but was too sore to move
beyond the nearby bench. She hobbled to the low wooden seat and
sat, rising again quickly. “ Dios mio !” she exclaimed.
    Diego laughed again, taking off his black hat white
with gypsum dust and slapping it against his leg.
    “It is well for you, caballero ,” she snapped,
and then was instantly sorry for her bad humor. It would not do to
offend this man who had rescued her. Indeed, she did not want to,
but her backside was on fire.
    “Oh, chiquita ,” he said, ignoring her
outbursts. “Maria chiquita ! Things will get better soon. Let
me rouse the governor from his table.” He smoothed the red silk
scarf pulled tight over his hair, brushed off his leather doublet
and entered the palace.
    He returned in scarcely a minute with a look of
genuine frustration on his face. “I can’t even get in to see him. I
gave the message to his clerk, who tells me he will pass it on!” He
sat down heavily on the bench next to Maria. “Is it any wonder that
we flounder here?’’ Maria looked at him, and after a moment he
smiled. “I am sorry. I just wish ... well, I do not know what I
wish. I do know that Antonio de Otermin is not overly fond of us rancheros .”
    They sat for a moment in silence. “I have sent a man
to your sister, La Viuda Doña Margarita.”
    La Viuda . The widow. Maria thought of the
missing cask of jewels, then of the glances the horsemen had
exchanged when she mentioned her sister’s name. But she refused to
worry. She had reached Santa Fe. Surely she was safe now.
    She sighed and tried to run her fingers through her
tangled hair, but it was matted with dirt. All her hairpins were
gone and the auburn tresses hung dull and stringy around her face.
She was painfully aware that her dress was ripped in several
places, that she wore no stockings, that her petticoat was in
tatters. She brushed futilely at the brown serge of her skirt and
blinked back tears.
    “Never mind,” said Diego, watching her. “At least
you are alive,” he added quietly. They sat together, shoulders
touching.
    “Diego!” said a voice behind them. Maria turned to
see a man hurrying through the door of the palace, tugging off his
napkin as he approached. He was dressed in dark red velvet, the
doublet glittering with gold buttons and the sleeves slashed with
cloth of gold showing through. His high boots were of soft, crushed
leather and shone to a high polish. The man was altogether grand.
As Maria got to her feet, she was terribly conscious of her
disheveled state.
    “My clerks have trouble sorting out what is news
from what is not news. Excuse my seeming reluctance. It was not
intentional. Now tell us of this which has come to pass.”
    He spoke to Diego, but his eyes were on Maria. They
were kind eyes, worried eyes. Maria’s uneasiness increased. The
governor walked to her and took her hand in both of his, looking
deep into her troubled eyes. “You are ...”
    “Maria Espinosa de la Garza,” she replied in a
whisper.
    He patted her hand. “What can we say?”
    Diego came closer. “Maria, this is His Excellency,
Don Antonio de Otermin, governor of our province of New Mexico.” He
turned to the governor. “And did your clerk tell you of the
massacre?”
    “He told me, but not until the first course of my
dinner was finished,” said the governor drily. “We