Chapter Six
Although I tried to avoid Monterey and Lucinda, Don Topo had another task for me in less than a month.
The other vaqueros in camp resented my trips to Monterey, both because I left the crew shorthanded and because I didn’t visit the whorehouses while in town. They felt that I was wasting the trip if I didn’t spend the night drinking and whoring. Their resentment didn’t matter to me. I was Don Topo’s man, and I accepted the label as his favorite without complaint.
Somehow, the story about my beating Tomasino made it back to the bunkhouse, so at least the derision and insults directed toward me were spoken more softly. Indeed, Tomasino had been sent to take care of a much smaller ranch located north of Monterey. There was a rumor he’d sold more cattle than he reported to Don Topo in return for money under the table from the cattle buyers. Hence, his responsibilities were greatly reduced.
Once in Monterey I was instructed to meet with some cattle buyers, take them to a pasture and gather the steers Don Topo wanted to sell. Most importantly I was responsible for the count. These steers were being purchased by the head, so an accurate count was crucial to all parties.
After completing my tasks, I returned to Monterey well after dark. Not knowing who was home, I knocked on the door. The maid who had directed me to the cabin on my last visit told me that this time Don Topo had said I should stay in the house.
I rolled out my blankets on the floor in the root cellar, next to the door. It felt comfortable and familiar. Sleeping by the kitchen like the family pet was the only sense of home I remembered having.
A faint ray of sun found its way under the door as the sun peeked over the mountains. I heard Don Topo enter the kitchen and feed some wood into the cook stove. I rolled out from my blankets, intending to give him the count on the cattle he’d sold, when I heard someone else come into the kitchen. Inez, Don Topo’s wife had a strange way of clearing her throat, and she did so as she walked into the kitchen. I had never known her to be up and about at sunrise and wondered what concerns had driven her out of bed.
“Even if your ill-advised plan were to work,” Inez said, “Charlie doesn’t know how old he is and that information should be on the marriage certificate. Only his mother knew his date of birth and she’s dead.”
“That isn’t important,” Don Topo said. “The priests will draw up a birth certificate. He’s as old as I say he is. If I say he’s seventeen and was born on Christmas Day, the church document will reflect that.”
“You blaspheme!” Inez’s voice rose in outrage.
“No, I tithe the Catholic priests ten percent of the money from the sale of cattle. It gives me leeway with names and dates on church documents.”
“Blasphemy and corruption.”
“Well, Inez, politics, money and corruption all flow out of the same lake. This concern over birthdays is beside the point. How sure are you that Lucinda is with child? Does she have morning sickness? Is her belly showing?”
There was a moment of silence, then I heard the coffee pot being slammed down on the stove
“Yes, all of those things.”
“Who is the father of our first grandchild?”
Dõna Inez was more comfortable talking about my shortcomings.
“He can’t even read.”
“Charlie can’t read because you never let the tutor teach him,” Don Topo said. “And now, because of your stubbornness, you are going to have an illiterate son-in-law.”
Wood thudded as Topo fed more sticks into the stove.
“I can see by your face that she told you, Inez. Who is the father?”
There was another long silence. I could picture Inez turning away.
“You let this happen, Inez. Now, we must have a course of action.”
“How is it my fault? You spoiled her. You let her ride horses like a man and do fiesta tricks in front of your friends. It is your fault as much as mine. You stood in the way of my authority. Now that I consider it, the fault is completely yours.”
“Whether because of my failings or yours, she is with child, and something needs to be done. Start by telling me who the father is.”
“You are gone most of the time, riding all over the country,” Inez said, warming to the subject of assigning blame. “You were never here to help me discipline any of the girls.”
Don Topo’s voice took on a resigned tone. “If I don’t show myself at our ranches, then soon we won’t have any ranches. We wouldn’t have any cattle or hides to sell. Without that money, you wouldn’t be running to the wharf to buy the latest fashions from trading ships. Now, who is the father?”
“What will you do if Lucinda rebels against you as she rebels against me?”
“She can be obedient, or she can leave this house and go work in a laundry. I can arrange that very easily. For the last time, Inez, who is the father?
“Tiburcio Vasquez,” Inez said, sounding defeated.
I heard what I took to be a fist slam into the heavy planks of the dining room table. Then, three more times, violently. Quick footsteps ran up the stairs: it sounded like Dõna Inez, fleeing the kitchen.
During the silence that followed, I lay there in my blankets, embarrassed at what I had heard.
Minutes passed, and then Don Topo sighed. The wooden chair creaked as he got up to fix his coffee.
“Come have some coffee with me, Charlie.” I emerged from the cellar as Topo sat back down, a squat little man with heavy jowls and thick silver-streaked hair who had always protected me. His mustache bristled as he looked at me. All of Don Topo’s power rested in his eyes. His eyes were kind, but you could see the mind behind the eyes: Don Topo’s brain was always engaged, always planning and calculating.
He patted his vest and came up with a small cigar. “Have you started smoking tobacco yet?” he asked, and pulled a second cigar out of his pocket. He idly held it up in my direction.
“No. They make me dizzy,” I replied, somewhat taken back at the offer.
“It’s an expense you don’t need.”
He lit the cigar and took in a lung-full of smoke. “You don’t drink either? I have little birds all over the coast who sing to me.”
I thought, The little birds must not live in the tree outside the guest house where Lucinda met with Tiburcio but I stayed silent.
Topo rose from the rawhide-bound chair and picked up the coffee pot. He took two cups from the counter, poured us each a cup, and then took a deep breath.
“You must promise not to beat her, Charlie,” he said in a solemn tone.
“Beat who?” The only two females he could have been referring to were Inez and Lucinda. I doubted he was asking me to refrain from beating his wife. As for Lucinda, until the winter I cut wood for the ships and filled out, she would have beaten me.
Don Topo saw the confusion in my face.
“Your wife to be, Charlie. Lucinda can be difficult. I am asking, as her father, that you don’t beat her, no matter what she does.”
My surprise stole away my ability to speak. To cover my shock, I took a quick sip of the coffee and scalded my tongue.
Don Topo ignored my mumbled curse. He smiled at me and leaned forward, putting his hand on my shoulder. “When you marry her, you will become my son. I will set aside property and cattle for you. Your fortune, as much as I can assure it, will be made.”
“Then Lucinda’s pregnant?” I finally stuttered, feeling my face flush with embarrassment.
“What’s worse, as you no doubt heard, the outlaw Vasquez is the father. It’s no matter. We will raise the child as a member of the family. You will ride to San Francisco with Lucinda to have the marriage sanctified by the church. Then you will both stay with my aunt until the baby is born. After that, you will come back to Monterey as my son-in-law.”
As the ramifications of Don Topo’s statement settled on my shoulders, my eyes widened until it felt like my eyeballs might fall out.
“You look lost. Will you help me protect my fami
ly’s honor?” he finally asked.
“I owe you everything, Don Topo.”
“Then it is settled,” he said, placing both hands on the heavy table and pushing his chair back.
“What about Lucinda?” I said in a panic. “What does she think about this arrangement?” I remembered Lucinda’s predilection to pick things up and throw them at my head when I wasn’t looking. Not only that, if I were married to her, I would be standing between her and Tiburcio Vasquez.
“For once, Lucinda will do what she is told. If she won’t, then I will place her on the stage to Santa Barbara. It will be understood that when she gets there, she will work in my nephew’s laundry if she wants to eat. Don’t worry, my son, Lucinda would prefer to stay in Monterey where she has servants to do the work while she takes shopping excursions to the merchant ships. She is very fond of buying lace and fine shoes, a calling she learned from my wife. Lucinda will choose the luxury of Monterey over a life of poverty in Santa Barbara.”
“What about Tiburcio?” I asked, and immediately regretted the question.
Don Topo’s face darkened. “I doubt he will make it to the wedding. He is fully engaged in stealing livestock from hard-working ranchers. It’s hard to attend a wedding when your face is on ‘wanted’ posters.”
“Where will we live?”
“At the Chualar Ranch. You’ll manage the ranch. If you are smart, you will let Lucinda live here in Monterey with her sisters, so they can help her care for the child.”
This was too much to grasp.
“I had better go tend to my horse,” I said. I went back to my bedroll to put on my boots and pick up my hat.
Don Topo kept on talking from the kitchen. “Charlie, even before this came up, I had plans for you. You proved yourself courageous and resourceful when you got your mare back from the horse thieves. There are few, if any, men I would trust to carry gold alone to San Francisco. I would have made you a partner in the ranches at some point, even if this blessed event had not come to pass. Now our partnership is going to happen sooner rather than later. Just agree with Lucinda as much possible. When you find yourself in an argument you can’t win, go to the ranch. Avoiding one’s wife by retreating to the cow camp has helped save marriages since the Spaniards came to the Alto Sierra.”
“She doesn’t want me for her husband, and she won’t accept this arrangement,” I said, but Don Topo was not open to argument. He had seen a way to avoid a scandal and he was going to take it.
“The world is changing, Charlie. The days when you could catch a fresh horse when the one you were riding gave out are over. When I was a boy, if you were hungry, you killed a steer and ate your fill, and if you hung the hide on the tree for the owner to find, nobody cared. Now steers are worth sixty dollars in San Francisco–and if you kill and eat one, you will be hung.”
Don Topo patted his vest pocket for a match, which he used to light another small cigar.
“When I started in this business, all I had to worry about was how much it rained. Now I’m spending more and more time defending the title to our ranchos and figuring out how to pay the taxes. I’m going to need you with me in these challenging times. Let Lucinda live in town, and you stay on the ranch. Nothing will change except the way I introduce you. You will no longer be my employee but my son-in-law and it will be my honor to introduce you as such. And when Lucinda has her child, it will have a calming effect on her. Horsemen all say a mare is better after having a colt.”
Don Topo paused and used one hand to rub the back of his hand while he tried to come up with other reasons I shouldn’t dread being married to his daughter.
“It won’t be as bad as you think,” he said. “After all, no one would argue that Lucinda isn’t beautiful. She’s also smart and brave. She may be a little willful, a little bad tempered, but she will settle down. Given enough time, she will accept you as her husband. Have courage, Charlie. It will all work out.”
I sat thinking of all the things an angry Lucinda was capable of. Heaving heavy objects at my head was the least of what she might do.
“It will all work out,” he said again.
“Who are you trying to convince, Jefe?” I asked under my breath.
That night, I slept fitfully. The thought of being forced into marriage with a girl as explosive as Lucinda kept me awake most of the night. When I wasn’t awake, I was having nightmares.
I dreamt Lucinda had chased me into the Pacific Ocean. In my dream, she was a giant and stood on the shore, yelling at me to swim out to sea and find where my father had drowned. I was afraid to swim out to sea, but also afraid to swim back to the shore, because Lucinda would find me and squash me like a bug.
I came awake with a jolt before dawn, and doubted I would ever go back to sleep again.
Scent of Tears