Jorge pulled up outside the general store.
Will handed him the shopping list. “I’ll make the deposit, if you start on the list.”
“Si,” was all Jorge said, as he jumped down from the wagon.
Will stepped inside the bank.
“Senor Austin!” came the cheery voice from behind the high counter that spanned the small room. “Very good to see you again. I had heard you had come back to the area.”
“Hola, Senor Ramirez. It is good to see you again too. News sure does travel fast around here.”
“Si, si. The ladies, they do love to talk.”
“The ladies? I think the men in the saloons can gossip with the best of them,” Will said, and both men laughed in agreement.
“How can I help you?”
Will pulled an envelope out of his breast pocket and slid it over the countertop. “I have a deposit for the Arroyo Ranch. They have had a few visitors staying to look at the horses.”
“Bueno, bueno. It is always good to have visitors come. Senora Arroyo’s horses are some of the finest in the area.”
“Senora Arroyo is working hard to improve her stock, and even Pilar, too.”
“Ah, I have heard of the amazing race and the wonderful prizes senorita Pilar has won for her family. The Senora will have to watch out for that one. I am certain of that,” Ramirez said with a laugh.
“Too bad that dam is threatening their ranch,” he said. “You have heard about it, no?”
“Yes, Elizabeth, I mean Senora Arroyo wrote to me about it when I was out East. I’ve heard it is still in the planning stages, but it sounds like it will happen, eventually.”
“Yes, I am afraid so. It is sad, so sad for many ranches in the valley.”
Senor Ramirez finished writing up the bank receipt and handed to Will.
“Gracias, Senor Austin. Come again, soon.”
“Adios, Senor,” Will replied.
“Adios!”
Will heard the raised voices even before he stepped into the store. Jorge was reeling off a string of Spanish so fast that Will could only catch a word or two.
Jorge stood in front of a white man, who was behind the counter, his face red and his arms crossed in front of his chest, a wrapped package, two bags of salt, and five pouches of tobacco between them. Next to him stood a young Mexican man who appeared to be about twenty. The young man looked frightened. They both turned to Will when he stepped inside.
“Hey, mister, do you speak Spanish? I can’t understand a word this guy is saying. And this one,” the man pointed to the young man next to him. “He’s no help.”
Will took Jorge’s arm and led him to the other side of the room, as Jorge continued to yell at the owner.
Whispering, he leaned in toward his friend. “Jorge, calm down. What’s the matter?”
Jorge tried to calm his breathing before he spoke. “This gringo thinks because I am Mexican and have gray hair, that I am in idiot. He is trying to charge us too much for the that queso, the cheese.”
“Let me deal with him. Take the rest of the supplies and I’ll meet you outside.”
When Will turned back to the counter, a white woman was standing next to the man, talking softly to him.
They stepped back up to the counter.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “I’m sure there has been a misunderstanding. I’m Beverly Clarkson and this is my husband Dan. We just took over the store a few weeks ago, and our Spanish isn’t the best. We have not seen you before. Are you new to the area as well?”
“Hello. Welcome to Santa Maria. I’m Will Austin.” Will used his left hand to support his right arm as he held out his right hand to the woman’s husband, who reluctantly shook it. He had gained the use of his right hand and partial use of his elbow, but movement of his shoulder was still limited. “I’ve been away for about a year, visiting family in Boston, but I consider this place home, at least for now.”
Jorge picked up the salt and tobacco and headed for the door.
“Hey,” Dan said, pointing at Jorge, “he hasn’t paid for that!”
Jorge ignored him and left, mumbling in Spanish.
The woman gently pulled her husband’s arm down to his side. “I’m sure this gentleman will take care of it.”
“Yes, of course. Can you please recheck the charge for this cheese?” Will said, pushing the wrapped package toward the woman.
“Of course,” Beverly said, picking up the cheese and putting it back on the large, round scale that hung from the ceiling.
“Well, it looks like we got the weight right. I imagine there was a problem with the translation, don’t you think, dear,” she said, turning to her husband.
“Yeah, that must have been it,” he said softly.
Beverly took the receipt and crossed out the charge for the cheese. “How about we cut the charge for the cheese in half.” She looked up at Will and smiled. “As an apology for the misunderstanding.”
Dan frowned and left the room, mumbling to himself.
Will and Beverly both laughed as Will pulled his money out of his money pouch. Will turned and smiled at the young man, still standing quietly behind the counter. “Hi, are you new to the area too?”
The young man looked at Will, eyes wide. He turned and left through the door Dan had gone through.
“I’m sorry,” Beverly said. “Oscar doesn’t speak. But his mother… well, his step-mother, really, she says he hasn’t spoken since his family was killed when he was three years old.”
“I think I remember hearing something about that, but I had never met the boy. I guess he’s a young man now, isn’t he.”
“And he’s a very nice young man. He’s a great help around the store. It’s too bad he can’t speak.”
“It must make interacting with him difficult.”
“We seem to manage.”
“But still…” Will picked up the cheese and looked past Beverly, lost in his own thoughts.
“Thank you for coming in,” Beverly said, bringing him back into the room. “Come again.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Clarkson. Have a good day.”
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