Marco and the Devil's Bargain by Carla Kelly

Author:Carla Kelly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: new mexico, comanche, smallpox, 1782, spanish colony
Publisher: Camel Press
Published: 2014-08-18T16:00:00+00:00

Marco stared all his fears in the face and rode east in the morning with his dearest Paloma, a doctor he did not trust, and a Comanche he needed more than words could express—his older brother. He wasn’t sure that Toshua would have consented to return to the Texas plains where he had been cast away by his own people, if Paloma were not along. In fact, he doubted it.

They left after the sun rose, snow falling lightly. He led both pack horses, docile creatures that probably didn’t even need a lead. Paloma rode beside him, pretty in her new warm cloak and precise in her posture, as efficient in her side saddle as she was anywhere else. Again, he silently thanked her long-dead parents for teaching her to ride so many years ago. Toshua ranged around from side to side as he always did, alert. The little doctor frowned with the concerted effort of a man who might ride well enough, but would never be easy in the saddle.

True, they rode into danger, but Marco couldn’t help but feel his heart lift to be in the saddle for a long trip. Winter usually confined him to the Double Cross, and he didn’t mind, not really. The last year and a half had been a wonderful time to use winter as an excuse to go nowhere and devote his free time to Paloma. I have turned into a lazy lover, he thought, with no remorse. Better to be a husband having a hard time prying the mattress from his back than to repeat those horrible eight years when the space beside him on that mattress was cold and empty.

Marco couldn’t deny the pleasure of a good ride. When Toshua got within earshot, he gestured him over. “Remember that time a year ago when Paloma and I rode to Santa Fe and you were supposed to stay behind where it was safe?” he asked.

The Comanche laughed. “How did you know?”

“You’re not the only smart man on the Double Cross.” Marco leaned across his saddle. “But tell me, pabi: how did you hide from us after the fork in the Chama and the Bravo?”

“I turned back at the fork. You didn’t need me the rest of the way.” He turned so serious then. “But I will stay with my brother and sister now, no matter what.”

February was no time to leave the shelter of the mountains and head across the plains, but a promise was a promise. They rode steadily, with no complaint from Paloma. She never complained. Why would this ride be different? How bright her eyes were! Marco could have sworn she was enjoying the freedom of the open spaces, too.

“Tell me, husband, why is it called ‘the Staked Plains’?”

“I have heard that in the days of Coronado, the conquistador planted stakes within eye-view of each other, so he would not get lost,” Marco said. “There is a sameness you will start to notice tomorrow.”

Antonio squared around to look at Marco.

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