go and tell him myself. We’re both fathers—you an’ me—but it might be better if I do this for you. That way it won’t embarrass Magpie in front of anyone.”
Scratch was surprised at how quickly he had been ready to boil. Never before had he seen any young man give his daughter a second look. But as he gazed at her now, he realized for the very first time that she really did appear far older than her twelve and a half years. She was already blooming into quite a beautiful woman … just like her mother.
“Awright,” Titus relented. “You just tell that boy her papa’s gonna gut him with the backside of a rusty file if I ever catch him sniffing round her anymore,” Bass demanded in a growl. “Go remind ’im she’s only twelve years old.”
“Hol’ on, hol’ on,” Paddock soothed, patting both of his open palms against Scratch’s chest. “Maybe them talking is all innocent and nothing to fret over, Scratch. Sometimes you got a real quick temper.”
“Me?” he grumbled, his eyes locked on the pair of youngsters flirting across the room. “A quick temper?”
“Seems I remember a winter—long time ago, after we brung back McAfferty’s hair—in a instant you convinced yourself Waits had wronged you and I was the one who betrayed you with her.”
Slowly his eyes came back to Josiah’s now, and blinked self-consciously with deep regret. “I … I never should’ve figured either of you’d go and wrong me. I allays been sorry—”
“I don’t expect another apology, Scratch. I only want you to hol’ on a minute and let me go over there ’stead of you,” Paddock offered again. “I’ll take care of this quiet.”
He watched Josiah turn away, threading his way through the crowd to reach the two youngsters. It was but a matter of moments before Magpie’s eyes suddenly flicked in his direction and locked on her father’s angry glare across the room. She quickly averted her gaze and stared down at the clay floor, just before the young man turned his head to look over Paddock’s shoulder, studying the room a moment before he located the gray-headed trapper who was glaring a hole into him like a hot poker.
The young man protectively glanced at Magpie, then stared down at the exact same spot she was studying between their toes. Josiah put a hand on the girl’s shoulder a moment, then she stepped around his elbow and started along the edge of the room, making for the kitchen. With Magpie on her way, Paddock looped his left arm over the young man’s shoulders and they turned together, inching into the crowd toward that spot where Bass and Vigil stood watching it all.
“Narciso, I want you to meet Magpie’s father, Titus Bass,” Josiah introduced.
Beaubien self-consciously held up a hand between them. “My apologies, Mr. Bass. I had no intention of giving anyone the wrong impression, especially your daughter. I was not … I didn’t know she was so young, sir. I apologize profusely. I hope you can understand just how pretty a girl she is—and understand that she looks much older. I’m extremely chagrined at my mistake—”
“Sha … sha?”
“I’m very, very embarrassed, sir,” Beaubien admitted.
“You talk like you’ve got a helluva lot more education than most every man in this room, son,” Titus declared.
“I’ve been east, to the States, at college, Mr. Bass. I clearly should have known better. I meant no trouble to you or to Magpie. When I arrived, I quickly realized she was one of the few guests of my own age here—so I naturally went over to introduce myself and engage her in conversation. I thought it would be polite to welcome her to the Taos valley—”
“You apologized enough, son,” Scratch interrupted with a sigh. “I’m sure my daughter enjoyed your flattery.”
“I meant no harm by talking to her—”
“No offense taken,” Bass replied. “Now that I understand.” He looked at Josiah. “The Mex folks, don’t they have a custom of chaperons?”
Paddock’s face brightened. “They surely do, Scratch.”
Titus turned back to the young man. “If you wish to talk to. my daughter, please do it when her mama’s around—like in the kitchen there, with the both of ’em together.”
“Oh, no, sir—she’s too … far too young for me to consider courting,” Beaubien explained. “I’d have to wait three or four years until I would court your daughter.”
“You’ll have to ride a long, long ways to do that in three or four years, young fella,” Titus stated.
Beaubien said, “I don’t understand, sir. Don’t you plan on making Taos your new home now that this territory belongs to America?”
With a wag of his head, Titus declared, “No. Soon as winter’s done, I’ll be taking my family back where we belong.”
In that heavy silence, Beaubien nervously presented his hand to Bass again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding with your daughter.”
Scratch watched the young man shoulder his way into the crowd, headed for another part of the house.
Grabbing Titus’s upper arm, Josiah said, “All that just made me remember something I should have told you before you rode off from Taos years ago.”
“What’s that?”
Paddock confessed, “When I look back on our years together, I remember you showing me how I was angry at
“You was a hardy lad,” Bass said, feeling a bit self-conscious himself. “Chances were, you’d made your way without me—”
“No,” Josiah interrupted in protest, leaning his face close. “Don’t you see what I owe you, ol’ man? If you hadn’t helped me sort through all that drove me from Saint Louis, if you hadn’t taken me back there with you to face up to what I’d done—likely I wouldn’t be standing here today … wouldn’t have the life I do for my family.”
Patting the younger man on that spot where his neck met the muscular shoulder, Titus said quietly, “Maybeso, in your own way, Josiah—you helped save my life too.”
30
Neither one of the two men proved good at concealing the worry hewed on their faces as Scratch stepped through the door of Josiah’s shop.
“Troubles?” Titus asked the moment he joined Paddock and Stephen Louis Lee.
Josiah began, “Naw, nothing really—”
“Listen, son,” Bass interrupted impatiently. “You and me didn’t spend all those seasons together for me not to read what’s on your face, so g’won and spill it.”
“Really, Mr. Bass—it’s nothing to concern yourself with,” Lee apologized.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Sheriff—but if it’s something sticks in Josiah Paddock’s craw … it damn well is my business. Two of us go back a long way—”
“All right, Scratch,” Paddock whispered. “Let’s go find us a spot in the back to talk. I don’t want to do nothing to upset Looks Far. So don’t either of you go looking like you just ate some bad apples.”
“Hell, Josiah—you’re the one got the hangdog face,” Bass whispered as they started toward the curtain behind one end of the long plank counter.
Paddock made sure they were out of earshot from the partition before he grimaced at the sheriff and asked in a whisper, “The Pueblos are making tough noises?”
Lee nodded his head. “I heard something the Injuns didn’t think I was s’pose to hear early this morning. Last few days they’ve had some bad sorts out there, fellas rousing ’em up.”
“But that ain’t nothing new,” Josiah replied.
“For the first time they’ve put a day on it,” Lee admitted. “A night when they’re gonna raise hell.”
For the first time Titus spoke up, “What you mean—raise hell, Sheriff?”
Lee looked at him. “Talk is—those plans Bent broke up last month is on again.”
