Page 3 of The Promise of Jenny Jones
“I don’t have much time to arrange for Graciela’s safety.” She raised her eyes to Jenny. “If Graciela remains in the village after I die, she will shortly follow me to the grave, a victim of an unwitnessed accident. This I fear, and this I believe. The only solution is to send her to Roberto while I still can.”
“He might not want her,” Jenny said brusquely. “Your sorry Roberto may have remarried years ago. Have you considered that?”
“No!” Then the fire in Marguarita’s eyes died to an ember with no strength behind it. “But there may be some reason why he cannot take her. Perhaps his father will not allow it.” She closed her eyes and swallowed. “That is why you must give me your solemn promise on all you hold holy that you will never abandon Graciela. If you cannot give her safely to Roberto and to Roberto only, then you must raise her as your own.”
Jenny spread her hands. “Senora Sanders. I am the last person on earth you would want to have raise your daughter. I can read some, and I can write some, but I have no education to speak of.”
“I see the dictionary in your back pocket. I saw the books on the guard’s table among your effects.”
“Just feeding myself and keeping a shirt on my back is a full-time job. And it isn’t easy. In my time I’ve taken in wash, I’ve skinned buffalo carcasses, which is the worst job on this planet, I’ve signed on as a roustabout, and most recently, I’ve driven a mule team and hauled freight for the Comden outfit. Except for washing, none of those jobs is what you’d call women’s work. The only reason I got hired is because I begged for the work, and I happen to be better at those jobs than most men. Course, I got paid less than a man. The point is, I can barely feed and clothe myself, let alone a kid.”
“I will give you money for the journey.”
“What worries me is keeping Graciela if Robert can’t or won’t take her. Who’s going to hire me if I have a kid hanging on my pant leg? How would I support this kid if I had to? And what kind of life would it be for a kid anyway?”
Marguarita studied her. “If you let your hair grow, and cleaned yourself… if you put on a dress and—”
Jenny burst into laughter. “Me? And a man?” She slapped her thigh. “That’s a good one.” Her eyes sobered. “No man has ever looked twice at me in twenty-four years, and I doubt hanging a skirt on my waist would change a thing.” She shook her head. “A man has to be blind drunk to take a grab at me.”
“You have beautiful eyes,” Marguarita said after a minute, sounding surprised. “And a pretty mouth.”
“Forget it.” Angry now, Jenny made a chopping motion with her hand. “If I have to raise your kid, it’s going to be just me. And it’s going to be a damned hardscrabble life for both of us. She’s not going to have fancy clothes, or servants waiting on her hand and foot. She’ll be lucky to have food in her belly and a pillow for her head. Is that what you want for her?”
Marguarita’s head dropped and she closed her eyes. “I have no friends outside my family, no one to rely on. I have no choice, and neither does my Graciela.”
“That’s not the worst of it,” Jenny continued, being brutally honest. “I don’t like kids. Never have.”
“Graciela is precocious. She’s very bright. Much older and wiser than her years would indicate.”
“I don’t care if she’s a fricking prodigy. She’s six years old. That makes her a kid, and I don’t like kids. I don’t know how to talk to them. I don’t know how to take care of a kid.” Jenny threw out her hands. “Kids don’t know squat about how to survive in a desert or how to gut a rabbit or do a day’s work. Kids get in the way. They whine. They cry. They’re only half-human.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Marguarita asked softly, her eyes pleading.
“Because I want you to know exactly what kind of a person you’re willing to die for. If we change places, and I get stuck with your kid, I don’t want to wake up some night with me and Graciela sleeping on the dirt with empty bellies and then start feeling guilty that you died for me, and I’m letting you down.”
“I am not going to die for you, Jenny Jones, make no mistake about that. I am going to die so that Graciela may live. I’ll take the bullets for you only if you swear on all that you hold sacred that Graciela will not be left here to die at the hands of people she mistakenly loves! I’ll stand in front of that firing squad only if you promise on your soul that you will save my daughter. I’d a thousand times rather that she be hungry than dead.”
“Where does your father, the wealthy rancher, fit into all this?” Jenny snapped. The two women glared at each other. “If your precious Roberto can’t or won’t take Graciela, why can’t I just dump her off on your father’s doorstep?”
“He will never accept the child of a Sanders.”
“Well, there’s your answer.” Jenny leaned back against the wall, stretching her feet out on the lousy mattress. “Just explain that to your greedy cousins, and the kid is saved.”
And she had just talked herself out of a chance to live. For a moment she cursed herself. Then she thought about trying to support a child and decided she would almost rather face a firing squad. Things worked out the way they were supposed to work out.
“Graciela is my father’s legitimate heir whether or not he accepts her. Which he will not. In his eyes, Graciela is Roberto’s bastard. But when the court is presented with my certificate of marriage, which I will give to you, Graciela’s claim will be secure. I have verified this.”
Jenny stared at a toe poking out of her broken boot. “I’ve told you that I hate kids, that I can’t provide well for Graciela. Hell, I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t even know if I cangetto northern California.” She lifted hard eyes. “But you still want this exchange?”
“You are Graciela’s only hope.”
“Then Graciela is in big trouble.” Jenny’s laugh was harsh. She thought a minute. “They may shoot me while I’m wearing a hood over my face, but they aren’t going to bury me in a hood. And the minute that hood comes off, everyone around this place is going to know they shot you, not me. Have you thought about that?”
Marguarita nodded slowly. “You’ll have about six hours’ head start.” She hesitated. “Frankly, I don’t believe the soldiers will bother searching for you. They wear uniforms, but they’re little better than bandits. There is no profit in wasting time chasing a penniless woman. They’ll have a corpse; that will satisfy the official records.”
“So what’s this about a six-hour head start? A head start on who?”
Marguarita stared at her. “My cousins, all of them, but especially Luis, Chulo, and Emil. Once my body is identified, they will understand all. But they will convince themselves you have abducted their beloved little heiress. They will convince each other that it is their duty to rescue Graciela. They will try to kill you both.”
