She crossed well below Presidio. She did not want the hard sheriff to find her, just as she was almost home.
Teresa heard her mother's footsteps and went running to her, though the chickens squawked loudly at such an interruption. Rafael stumbled after his sister, carrying a young goat he had taken as a pet.
While Maria was still holding her children in the road, Billy came out and told her that Captain Call had destroyed the hard sheriff, beating him with a rifle.
'That's right,' Billy Williams said.
'Joe Doniphan's done for. He's had to quit. You can walk right through the middle of Presidio and not a soul will bother you.' 'Did you see Call?' Maria asked.
'I reckon I did,' Billy said.
'Call and a Yankee and a deputy from Laredo came riding up the Concho and stopped right at this house.' Maria saw that her children were healthy. Teresa's hair had not been brushed well, and Rafael's shirt was not as clean as she would make it when she washed his clothes. But they were healthy. Billy had done a good job. Maria smiled at him, to show that she was not without gratitude. Since leaving the railroad, she had been thinking bad thoughts about men. She had left her children with this man, and he had cared for them well, although she had never been with him in the bed. Whatever his disappointments, he had been decent, and he had cared for her children. It was a thing she would not forget. She meant to try and help Billy a little, once she was rested. He was an old man, he drank too much, he didn't keep himself clean, and he was not very well.
Now, though, she felt frightened for Joey.
Captain Call had found her village, and even her house.
'Did Famous Shoes bring him here?' she asked. The old tracker was not to be trusted. He liked money too much.
'Nope, never got this far,' Billy said.
'Famous Shoes and another deputy were in Joe Doniphan's jail when Call showed up. Joe wouldn't let 'em out. He pulled a gun on Call, and that's when Call started whipping him with the rifle barrel.' 'Did you tell Call anything about Joey?' Maria asked, suspiciously. When it came to Joey, she trusted no one.
'No, why would I?' Billy asked. 'Do you take me for a lawman?' 'I'm sorry,' Maria said. 'Let's go in the house. I need to heat some water, and I need to eat.' Billy and Teresa made her soup.
She took a little, but she felt feverish and did not take much. The next day, Billy killed a baby goat--not Rafael's pet--and fed her some of the tender meat. Maria's fever got worse, though. For more than a week, she tossed with it, too weak to get out of her bed. Billy and Teresa cared for her, giving her a little soup, and bathing her face with cool rags.
Maria's mind flew around, while the fever burned or chilled her. She saw Joey hanging from the rock where Benito had died. In a dream, Benito came to her as a baby and tried to suck her breast. She dreamed about Captain Call beating the hard sheriff with a rifle--only the hard sheriff changed into Joey. It was Joey who the Captain beat.
When the fever broke and Maria could look clearly at the world again, Billy Williams was asleep on the dirt floor by her bed. He had a bottle of whiskey beside him, but had drunk only a little. The bottle had fallen over, and whiskey was seeping out. Billy slept with his mouth open. To Maria, he seemed older than he had seemed when she took the fever. He looked gray, as if he had no blood.
It was a chilly morning. When Maria got up, she covered Billy Williams with the serape she had been using for herself.
'Mother, a man came and looked at me,' Teresa said. She was glad that her mother was out of bed.
'What kind of man?' Maria asked.
'A gringo--he is the one who is hunting Joey,' Teresa said. 'I could feel him looking at me.' Again, Maria felt frightened. Call had destroyed the hard sheriff. He was hunting her son. What business did he have, coming to her house and looking at her daughter?
'Go in the house, if he comes back,' Maria said. 'Don't let him look at you. He is a bad man. He wants to kill Joey. Don't ever let him look at you.' 'He said I was pretty,' Teresa said.
'He didn't do anything bad.' 'He was right--you are pretty,' Maria said.
She hugged her daughter. They sat in a chair by the table. Rafael came in with his pet goat and sang the goat a little song. Maria held her daughter in her arms for a long time.
Someday, Teresa would be a woman, but Maria didn't want that time to be soon. She held her daughter tightly. Rafael sat down by Maria's chair, holding his goat in his lap.
Maria stroked his hair. Then she held Teresa tightly. Teresa liked it, when her mother held her close, in her warm arms.
Maria wished that this could be their life forever, just herself and her children sitting in her warm kitchen together.
If such a time could be the whole of life, then life could be happiness. If Teresa could remain a child in her arms, then Teresa would never know the deep sorrows of womanhood, sorrows as deep as the cold water in the village well. She sniffed her daughter's neck. Teresa still smelled like a child. She did not smell like a woman, yet. Rafael had stopped changing.
Unless she could find a doctor to fix his mind, Rafael would always be a boy. He would not know many of the sorrows of men.
But Teresa was growing; only her eyes were arrested. Teresa had heard Captain Call's compliment, and remembered it. She would not always fit in Maria's arms, and she would not always smell like a little girl. Maria meant to hold her as long as she could. Joey might be evil; he might be lost. Rafael might always be young in his mind. But Teresa was whole; she lacked only sight.
Someday, she would escape from her mother's arms and walk out in her beauty into the world of sorrows.
