Still not comprehending, Adam said, “What do you mean by that? You… don’t age? Exactly how old are you?”
She smiled slyly and said, “If you’re asking me how old I feel, or how old I want to be, then I’m twenty-eight. That’s a good age, isn’t it?”
Adam was puzzled. Had she said twenty-eight because that was his age too? He said, “Let me rephrase the question. How many years have you been alive?”
She stared past him, her eyes fixed on some point across the room as if recalling a distant time and place and said, “I was born in 1833 in Manchester, England.”
Adam couldn’t help it. He felt his eyes widen and his mouth drop open, but no words came. This was too much. How was he supposed to believe the woman he loved was over 150 years old?
Impossible.
She didn’t look a day older than him. But everything else he had learned about her defied all logic as well. This was just par for the course. He managed to close his mouth and regain his composure—somewhat.
Observing his reaction, Maddie stood and went to the bookshelf. She removed what appeared to be a very old photo album and returned to her place beside him. Without saying a word, she opened the album to the first page.
The pictures reminded him of his grandmother’s old photos from when she was a little girl, and also the pictures of his great grandparents that were proudly displayed in his parents’ house. They were black and white with the photo paper slightly yellowing with age. They looked like photos of the Old West that Adam had seen in museums and on TV. A group of people surrounded what looked like an old horse-drawn, covered wagon. The men wore wide-brimmed hats, boots, handlebar mustaches, and holsters with pistols proudly displayed. There was also a woman and a young girl. They wore long dresses with lacy cuffs on the sleeves, hair pulled back, wide-brimmed hats, and they too sported guns. There were even a few people dressed in what appeared to be Native American attire. Everyone wore serious expressions. No smiles.
Adam’s eyes kept going back to the woman and young girl. The woman looked a lot like Maddie, but he could tell that it wasn’t her. He figured it had to be a relative of hers. He looked closer at the girl, at her eyes, the lips, and the nose.
Was it? No, it couldn’t be.
Maddie pointed at the girl in the picture and said, “When I was a young girl, my parents—like many others during that time—immigrated to the United States with hopes of finding land, settling, and striking it rich during the great California Gold Rush. They believed in the American Dream, freedom, and the promise of prosperity.
“When I was fifteen years old, we were traveling the Santa Fe Trail through New Mexico. The Mexican-American war had just ended in 1848, and New Mexico had officially been declared a part of the United States. There was still a lot of upheaval and unrest, and traveling in the area was dangerous.
“One night we stopped near Fort Union to find shelter for the night. While we slept, a nearby tribe of Apache Indians raided the fort. The inn we were staying in caught on fire. I awoke coughing and barely able to breathe. Smoke was everywhere. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I was screaming for my parents, but I never heard a response over the loud crackling of the flames and the roaring fire. I crawled blindly across the floor, next to the wall, until I managed to find my way out. My parents never made it out.”
Maddie looked up at Adam. Tears were streaming down her face again. He pulled her closer to him and wiped her tears with his hand.
“It was never determined whether or not the fire was arson or accidental. No suspects were ever identified. Justice was never served.
“Orphaned and alone at age fifteen, I had nowhere to go. A Spanish gentleman who had emigrated from South America and amassed a great fortune as a prominent cattle rancher took pity on me. Pablo de Alvarado, known as Paul by those closest to him, was well-known and well-respected in the town. He took me in as a hired hand at his ranch. I was the cook in the main house.
“Paul was very kind. He employed a lot of people who were down and out on their luck. His staff included other immigrants, people who were freed after the war and needed work, and members of some of the friendly, local Pueblo Indian tribes. He believed in treating everyone with equality, which helped him to develop many loyal friendships and allies. But because tensions were still high following the war, he also had enemies.
“Over the course of the year that followed, Paul and I fell in love. Almost exactly a year to the day that he took me in, we were married. I was sixteen and Paul was twenty-nine. Back in those days, official marriage licenses were not required. We had a small, elegant ceremony in the church with a few of our closest friends. We were very happy together for a while.”
Adam’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. “You got married at sixteen?”
“You have to realize that people married at younger ages back then. They also didn’t live as long as people do now.”
Adam was not enjoying this part of the story at all, but his need to know kept his rapt attention.
Chapter 22
As if in a trance, Maddie stared blankly at the wall and continued her story. “I