May 1933
Pilar stood outside the kitchen and rang the bell to bring her brothers in for dinner. She remembered how Teresa used to call in the family and all the ranch hands every evening. They never ate until after the sun went below the horizon, needing every precious hour of daylight to get the many tasks done needed to run the large Arroyo Ranch. Now her grandfather and most of her aunts and uncles were either dead or living with Elizabeth up in San Antonio, where Elizabeth had family and where she had met their father, Roberto.
It was just her and her two brothers, Enrique and Santiago, that were left on the ranch. They had all sent their families and what livestock they could take with them into Texas, over a month ago. The rest of the livestock had to be sold since the Mexican government hadn’t followed through on their promise to pay the people anything for their property who were affected by the El Alto Grande Dam. Though Pilar had made sure they kept a couple of their prized horse-breeding stock. She wanted to continue her mother’s tradition of raising award-winning racehorses.
Pilar herself, had given up racing years before. It was after she had lost her second child falling off a horse in a race in Monterrey. Racing was a risk, she knew, but she was only four weeks along, and she hadn’t fallen off a horse since she was sixteen so she thought she was safe. But she had not given up on horses. That she couldn’t do. Horses were in her blood, just like this ranch.
They also had to say goodbye to most of the ranch hands. The only ranch hand that made the trip north was Rico. Rico was in his eighties now, like Elizabeth and Will, and Elizabeth considered him one of the family, since he had no family of his own and had nowhere else to go
Pilar pulled the biscuits out of the oven as her brothers walked through the kitchen door.
“Wait! Wait! Turn around and wipe off those boots. Have some respect,” she said, looking at their mud-caked cowboy boots.
It had started raining the night before and hadn’t stopped since. It wasn’t a heavy rain, but it had been steady, so the grounds were a mess.
“It’s just us, Pilar. Why do we need to bother?” Enrique said.
“Because it’s our home,” she shot back. “I will not see it degraded, no matter if our time here is limited.
“Speaking of that,” she said as she ladled the stew into large ceramic bowls. “How does the river look, Santiago?”
Santiago took off his hat and coat and hung them on the hooks next to the door. “It has just left its banks.”
Pilar stopped ladling and stared at him. “It was four or five inches below the bank just yesterday?”
“We must have gotten more rain last night than we thought,” Enrique said, as he sat down at the table.
Pilar placed the bowls on the table. “Santiago, get the biscuits, please.”
He placed the hot pan on the table coaster in front of them, grabbing a hot biscuit in his hand. “They are hot,” he said with a chuckle, throwing the biscuit from one hand to the other to try and cool it down.
Pilar shook her head. “You could just wait until they cool.”
“I’m hungry,” he said, and threw the biscuit at her.
She expertly caught it out of the air, used to her brothers’ antics. “Mother would be yelling right about now.”
Santiago smiled and reached for another biscuit. “Yes, but she’s not here, is she.”
Enrique was already eating the stew. “Good stew, sis. Not as good as Teresa, but not bad.”
Pilar nodded in appreciation but added, “You’re just saying that so you don’t have to take your turn cooking tomorrow.”
“Me, try and get out of cooking? I wouldn’t do that,” he said with a wry smile.
“No, no, of course not. Just like you don’t try and get out of mucking out the stalls. We have four horses left and you still can’t manage to keep up.”
“I’m busy,” he said, trying to look hurt at the accusation.
Santiago laughed. “Busy doing what?”
“Taking a siesta, I think,” replied Pilar.
Enrique didn’t reply. That hit a little too close to home.
Santiago dipped his biscuit into his stew and looked at Pilar. “You went into town today, right? Did momma send a letter yet? Have they arrived in San Antonio?”
“She sent a telegram, actually.”
Pilar stood and walked out of the kitchen, then back in, holding the telegraph. She placed it on the table between them.
ARRIVED AT THE RANCH YESTERDAY STOP EVERYONE IS FINE BUT LOST OUR MILKING COW STOP PILAR, HORSES ARE ALL FINE STOP WILL WRITE SOON STOP LOVE MOTHER
“Glad to hear they all made it,” Santiago said. “That’s a long haul.”
“How many miles is it?” Enrique asked.
Pilar put down her wine glass. “It’s over two hundred and fifty miles,” she said, then sighed. She wasn’t looking forward to the trip, but what was more disturbing was leaving the ranch. It had been in her family for at least two generations. She had expected to raise her family on the ranch and grow old with her husband, Augustino, sitting on the veranda bouncing grandchildren on her knee. Augustino had agreed to take the children into Texas with Elizabeth, for now, just until they got her mother settled somewhere. Pilar felt she owed her that much. Then they would return to Mexico and set up house with Augustino’s family, a day’s ride from the Arroyo Ranch, far from the dam and the rising water.
She was glad that the stud and the mare that they kept for breeding were safe on the Vargus Ranch, Augustino’s family’s ranch. It reminded Pilar of her first race.
“Do you guys remember that first race I was in at the Vargus Ranch?”
“You were just a wee thing,” Santiago said.
“I think I was seven,” she said.
“Which is probably why you won,” Enrique said. “You couldn’t have weighted more than fifty pounds.”
Pilar threw her napkin at her brother. “I won because I was a good racer,” she said, trying to look mad.
“If you hadn’t have gone to that race, you wouldn’t have met Augustino,” Santiago said.
“And we wouldn’t have the wonderful breeding horses we have today,” Pilar said with a smile. “Momma had some fine horse, but that little colt I won turned out to be the best thing for us.” Pilar thought of all the ribbons that used to sit on the mantle over the large fireplace in the room right next to where they were now sitting, a room that was now practically empty, save for a few old chairs and a couch too large to move. “It’s why we got so much for the horse that we had to sell.”
Pilar took a bit of her biscuit. “I was just thinking how strange it is that we’ll be combining out stock again – the Vargus and Arroyo horses – forty some years after I won those two horses.”
Enrique nervously tapped his spoon on the table, an anxious look on his face. Pilar knew what he was thinking.
“It is fine, Enrique, really. There is plenty of work to do on the Vargus Ranch. Augustino was sincere when he offered you a job.” She placed his hand on top of his. “And I you know how to break horses better than any man I know.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” he said, his eyes still on his plate. “I just don’t want to live in America. I know it’s Momma’s family but my home is in Mexico.”
Pilar squeezed her hand and smiled.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” Enrique said, looking at his brother.
“Maria has never been to America, so she wants to see what living in Texas would be like.”
“And what Maria wants, Maria gets,” Pilar teased.
Then another napkin went flying, hitting Pilar in the chest. “Like Augustino doesn’t spoil you.”
“He just knows what’s good for his family,” Pilar said.
“He just knows what’s good for himself,” Enrique said almost under his breath.
Then they all laughed. That is until there was a loud clap of thunder that silenced them all.
Enrique stood and headed for the kitchen door. “Wow, that was close. I should make sure it didn’t hit any of the buildings,” he said, opening the door and peering out.
Pilar and Santiago got up too.
They all looked out the door at the deluge that was falling from the sky.
“If this doesn’t let up soon, we may be moving sooner than we thought,” Santiago said.
“We’ve got time,” Pilar said.
They closed the door and went back to finishing their dinner.
No comments:
Post a Comment