The Midwife and the Lawman Page 12

  “Nothing.”

  “Jesse here’s got an attitude problem,” Miguel said. At the moment he looked nothing like the funny, sexy man who’d taken her to dinner and kissed her on the mountain. He looked like the hard-eyed Marine who’d returned from Somalia and broken her heart. “He needs to learn some respect for his elders.”

  “I have respect,” Jesse shot back. He was stiff and trembling, but he made no effort to free himself of Miguel’s grip. “I told the Indian I was sorry.”

  “Try ‘Mr. Elkhorn,’” Miguel said in that cop’s voice that sent cold shivers up and down Devon’s spine. Maria let go of Devon’s hand and wrapped her arm around Sylvia’s thigh, hiding her face.

  “Mr. Elkhorn.” Jesse swiveled his head to look up at Miguel. “But I don’t have much respect for the cops in this town,” he muttered. Miguel’s eyes narrowed, but not before she saw a spark of amusement behind them.

  “No more smart talk.” He tightened his grip on Jesse’s shirt.

  “It’s all just a misunderstanding, Devon,” Daniel intervened. “Miguel, let the boy go. He said it was an accident and I believe him.”

  “Thanks.” Jesse shrugged his thin shoulders to resettle his shirt as Miguel released him, then took a quick, prudent step sideways. That was when Devon noticed the bandage on Miguel’s hand. Her heart lost its rhythm for a moment. He must have been hurt up at Manny’s. Was that why he hadn’t called her?

  “I just came in here to see if they had any inner tubes for that old bike. I thought if I got it to where I could ride it, I could maybe find some odd jobs or something.” He shoved his hands in the back pockets of his faded jeans. “When I told the old…Mr. Elkhorn I wasn’t going to buy them because I didn’t have the money, the cop here didn’t like my attitude.”

  “I still don’t,” Miguel informed him, but his voice wasn’t quite as hard as it had been.

  “Do you have inner tubes to fit the bike, Daniel?” Devon asked, pulling her eyes from Miguel’s bandaged wrist.

  “I do. I told the boy we could work out some payment if he wanted them.”

  “I don’t want to owe anyone anything.”

  “That’s not good business sense, hombre,” Manny interrupted. “Take the credit and the inner tubes. How else will you get up to my place to help me with the chicken coop?”

  “What?”

  “I’m telling you I’ll hire you to work on my chicken coop if you want the job. Can’t afford to pay more than minimum wage, but I’ll feed you while you’re there. Is it a deal?”

  “You’re offering me a job?”

  “Sí, isn’t that what I just said in plain English?”

  Jesse’s face tightened. His pride was hurt and he longed to say no. His emotions were easy to read, but the realization that he couldn’t afford to turn down the opportunity to earn some money was equally easy to decipher. “Thanks. I’ll work hard.”

  “I guarantee you will, hombre,” Manny chuckled. “It’s a deal, then. We’ll start tomorrow.”

  “Okay, I’ll take the inner tubes. I’ve got a couple of bucks for a down payment.” Jesse fished two worn dollar bills out of the pocket of his jeans and handed them to Daniel.

  The old man didn’t refuse the money and Devon was grateful for the sop to Jesse’s pride. “I’ll make you out a bill and a receipt for the down payment. You might as well come with me. Might take a few minutes to put my hands on them inner tubes in the storeroom.”

  Manny motioned Jesse to follow him. “You can help us load the stuff I need on the back of my truck. I’m too tired to do anything else today. Tomorrow I’ll pick you up at seven sharp.”

  “I’ll find my way.”

  Miguel snorted. “Better take him up on the offer. It’s uphill all the way to Manny’s place.”

  “Listen to the Indian—don’t never turn down a ride if your path lies up a mountain.” Manny chuckled at his own witticism. “Is that okay with you, Devon?”

  “Yes,” she said. She’d had so many other things on her mind she hadn’t given much thought to the kids’ lack of money. Now she realized what a worry it must be to Jesse and Sylvia to be completely without funds. “Thank you for giving Jesse the job.”

  “De nada, señorita.”

  “Keep your eye on things for a minute, will you, Miguel?” Daniel requested as the trio headed for the storeroom.

  Maria whispered that she wanted to go home, but her words barely registered with Devon, who found her eyes once more drawn to the bandage on Miguel’s wrist. She held out her hand and he placed his palm on hers. “What happened?” she asked.

  “I needed a bigger fire extinguisher,” he said. “That’s what I’m doing here now, looking for a new one.”

  She lifted her eyes to his face, noting for the first time the drawn look around his mouth, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. “It was close to getting out of control up there last night, wasn’t it?”

  “But it didn’t.”

  “Thank God. How bad is your burn?”

  “Second-degree. A couple of blisters, I might even get a scar out of it. It hurts like hell.”

  She didn’t want to think of him in pain. “Did you ask for pain medication? They shouldn’t have sent you home from the E.R. without a prescription. I…”

  He grinned down at her and she realized she was still holding his hand. She released him and wrapped both hands around the strap of her shoulder bag.

  “Yes, they gave me pain medication. I didn’t take it. It makes my head feel like it’s packed in those funny little foam peanuts. Can’t do my job like that.”

  Maria emitted a faint giggle and peeked out at him from behind Sylvia’s leg. Miguel dropped to his haunches. “Hola, señorita. Se llama Miguel.”

  “Hola,” Maria whispered. “I’m Maria.”

  “¡Mucho gusto!”

  “You’re a policeman. Jesse said never, never talk to policemen.” She ducked back behind Sylvia’s skirt.

  “I’m Devon’s friend. Does that make a difference?”

  She looked out at him once more and shook her head. “You were mean to my brother.”

  Miguel stood up. “Looks like I struck out there, too.” He held out his hand. “You must be Sylvia.”

  She hesitated a moment, then shook his hand. “Yes.”

  “Welcome to Enchantment.”

  “Thank you.” When Sylvia spoke, her tone was polite but her expression was guarded. Devon’s spirits sank a little lower. Having Miguel for a friend was going to cost her some of the trust she’d worked so hard to earn with the girls. Their brother’s trust was probably a lost cause.

  Jesse appeared with a box containing the inner tubes. “The old guys are back there arguing about a roll of chicken wire,” he said. “Let’s go. I’ll change these when I get back to your place.” He refused to look at Miguel.

  “We can put the bike in the back of the Blazer,” Devon suggested.

  “I’ll ride it back. There’s enough air in the tires now to get that far.”

  “All right.” She was ready to agree to almost anything to get them out of the hardware store. Miguel still looked all cop when he glanced in Jesse’s direction. She didn’t want any more words between them. “Goodbye, Miguel.”

  “Later,” Miguel said, and even to Devon’s ears the single word sounded ominous.

  To Jesse it would constitute a threat.

  She drove the girls straight home. She’d meant to take them to the drugstore for Sylvia’s vitamins and iron supplement, and then to the grocery to restock the refrigerator. She had four patient appointments scheduled for the afternoon and a beginning Lamaze class to teach that evening. That left very little time to explain her relationship to Miguel to the suspicious siblings—especially when she didn’t understand that relationship herself.

  Sylvia hustled Maria into the house and settled her in front of the TV, coming back into the kitchen where Devon was checking to see if she had all the ingredients for tuna salad. She opened the fridge and s
tared inside.

  “Is Jesse back yet, Devon?”

  Devon shook her head. “It’ll be slow going coming up the grade on low tires.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “Is tuna salad okay for lunch? Does Maria like it?”

  “Sure.” The children never complained about what she fed them. “There are chips and cookies in the pantry. And apples and celery in the fridge.”

  “What about mayonnaise?”

  “There’s a new jar in the cupboard to the left of the sink.” Sylvia knew more about where things were located in her kitchen than Devon did. She had never worried much about what she ate, or when, before they came. Now she found herself looking forward to the meals Sylvia prepared. “There’s a box of raisins there, too. My mother always put raisins in her tuna salad.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Sylvia took the one good knife from the drawer and the cutting board from the counter. She rinsed the celery and began to chop, curling her fingers under to keep them from harm’s way, just as Devon had seen chefs on the cooking channel do. The girl had real talent. Should she speak to her about the possibility of culinary school after she graduated? But then she swallowed her words. She had no business encouraging Sylvia in any future paths she might take. She had no legal claim to the children at all. By rights she should have called Protective Services or the INS days ago.

  “That policeman in the store today who was hassling Jesse. He’s the one who called you on the radio the day you found us in the old mine, isn’t he? I recognized his voice.” Sylvia kept on working adding raisins and a few walnuts, from a bag Devon had found in the freezer, to the celery, tossing them in a crockery bowl she pulled from the highest shelf of the cupboard.

  “Yes.” Devon pretended to concentrate on opening the tuna can and draining off the water.

  “He’s your friend?”

  “Yes, he is.” She wasn’t about to volunteer any more. What could she say? Their relationship was difficult to define. It had started as a teenage infatuation, then…not-quite-everlasting love.

  “You’ve known him for a long time?” Devon had told Sylvia and Jesse a little about the summers she’d spent in Enchantment with Lydia while she was growing up.

  “We dated when we were teenagers. Then he went off to the Marines and I went back to San Francisco. I didn’t see him for years until I moved here.”

  “But there’s something still there between you.”

  “Goodness, what makes you think that?” She was standing with her back to the girl, looking for the milk in the refrigerator, grateful that Sylvia couldn’t see the shock that must surely show on her face.

  “You were trembling when you saw that he was hurt and examined the bandage on his hand.”

  “I was surprised and worried, that was all.” Devon grabbed the milk and an apple and put them on the table without turning around.

  “I used to feel like that with Kyle,” Sylvia said, her voice sad but steady.

  Devon was grateful for the chance to move the subject away from Sylvia’s astute observation of her feelings for Miguel. She turned to the sink. “Do you want Kyle to know about the baby?” she asked as she handed Sylvia the mayonnaise jar.

  “I don’t know. Maybe? I haven’t wanted to think about it.” She was silent for a little while before she spoke again. “He should be responsible for her, too.” Lydia had decreed after listening to the heartbeat that Sylvia’s baby was a girl.

  Devon wanted to ask if the baby’s father was an American citizen. Most likely he was. Would that make a difference in Sylvia’s immigrant status somewhere down the line? She had no idea, and at the moment didn’t know where to begin to find out.

  Maria appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I’m thirsty,” she announced in Spanish, something she hadn’t done for the past few days. It was an indication of how upset the encounter in the hardware store had left the child.

  “Sit down. I’ll pour you a glass of milk,” Sylvia said, wiping her hands on a towel.

  “I’m hungry, too.” Maria had her arms wrapped around a floppy, yarn-haired baby doll that Devon had spotted at a yard sale on her way home from the clinic one day. The doll had come with two different sets of clothes, a blanket, a bottle and pacifier. Maria kept it with her day and night.

  “Lunch is almost ready.”

  “Where’s Jesse?” She’d reverted to English now and stood on tiptoe to look out the window. “Isn’t he coming back?”

  “He’ll be here in a few minutes. Here’s your sandwich and an apple. You can have a cookie when you finish it.”

  Maria eyed the sandwich suspiciously, then bent her head to sniff it. “Tuna fish?” She made a face.

  “You like tuna fish,” Sylvia said firmly.

  “What are those?” She pointed to a raisin.

  “Raisins. They taste good.”

  “No. Yuck.” Maria said just as firmly as her sister and began to carefully remove each and every raisin from her sandwich.

  Sylvia looked at Devon, lifted her shoulders in a shrug that said far more than words and smiled. Really smiled for the first time that Devon could remember seeing. She was a very pretty girl when she smiled.

  The back door opened and Jesse stood on the threshold, the sunlight spilling around him like molten gold. He was hot and sweaty from the uphill ride from town, and the angry look he’d worn at the hardware store was still in place.

  “Hi, Jesse. You look hot,” Maria said, once more speaking in English. “Do you want some of my milk?”

  “No. Not right now. I need to talk to Sylvia.” He jerked his head toward the area behind the house. “Come on.”

  Sylvia hesitated, looking at Maria.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Devon said. She picked up the package of Oreos on the counter. “Would you like a cookie, Maria?” As she hoped, the offer diverted the little girl’s worried attention from her brother and sister.

  Devon walked to the sink and looked out the window. Jesse was doing all the talking. Sylvia stood quietly, head bowed. The window was closed and Devon couldn’t hear what he was saying. Maria asked for another cookie. She wasn’t smiling anymore, but clutching the doll tight to her chest. She took the cookie handed her and sat quietly eating it. Devon turned back to the window. Jesse was gesturing to the west, up the mountain toward Silverton. Sylvia gave her head a violent shake. She put her hands over her ears. That was enough for Devon.

  “I’m going to see what Jesse and Sylvia are talking about. You’ll be okay here, won’t you?” The little girl looked at her with solemn eyes and nodded.

  Devon opened the door and took the gravel path to the base of the pine tree where Jesse and Sylvia were so deep into their argument they didn’t hear or see her until she was standing beside them.

  “Want to let me in on the discussion?”

  “We’re leaving,” Jesse said flatly. “I don’t like that cop. He’s going to start nosing around here for sure.”

  “There’s nothing he can find here that would harm you,” Devon said quietly.

  “He’s Devon’s friend,” Sylvia said. She wasn’t crying, although her eyes were wide and apprehensive.

  “Yeah, her real good friend, I’ll bet. I saw how you looked at him. You got—”

  “That’s enough, Jesse,” Devon said.

  “No. I’m in charge of my sisters. I’m not going to get us picked up by the INS and put on a bus back to Mexico. We’ve got no family left there at all if our grandmother’s dead. Maria’s never even been there. America is our home. We’ll go to Denver, maybe. Or Las Vegas. I’ll bet I could get work at a hotel in Vegas.”

  “Not without papers you won’t,” Devon said. She tried to remain calm, the voice of reason, but it was difficult. The thought of the three children homeless and on their own in a city like Las Vegas was chilling.

  “There are ways to get papers.” His voice was cold, determined. “I’ll ride the bike up to the mine and get the truck started somehow. You get our stuff
together, Sylvia. Be ready to go when I get back.”

  “No, don’t,” Devon said. “Wait.” But what right did she have to make them stay? All she could do was call the authorities, call Miguel and set in motion the events Jesse had just described.

  Jesse ignored her as she feared he would. He spun on his heel, but Sylvia reached out and grabbed him by the arm. “I’m not going. And neither is Maria.”

  “You can’t stay here.” He jerked at her hand, but she held on.

  “We are staying here. I believe Devon. She won’t tell anyone the truth about us. Even…him.”

  “We can’t take that chance.”

  “What about Tia Lucia?”

  “We’ll figure out how to get in touch with her when we find a place to stay.”

  “A place to stay?” Sylvia’s laugh was ragged, near hysteria. Devon longed to comfort her, but she stayed silent. Jesse wouldn’t listen to her, but he might be persuaded by his sister. “Another mine shaft with the cries of ghosts keeping us awake all night?”

  “That was only the wind. It will be a better place than the mine.”

  Tears ran down her cheeks, but she ignored them. “You can’t promise that. I’m not going. Neither is Maria. Today I heard the baby’s heartbeat. She’s alive inside me. She’s going to be born. Soon. Devon and her grandmother know this.” She dropped her hand from his arm and laid it on her distended stomach. “I know this. I want my baby to be born here. With Devon to help me. Please, Jesse.”

  “The cop—he’ll figure it out. Or the old Indian will find the truck—”

  “Just until the baby is born, Jesse. Please.”

  He was still as tense as a coiled spring, but the fight had gone out of him. “All right, we’ll stay.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE SIGN THAT MARKED THE ROAD to Silverton had fallen over again. Miguel made no effort to stop and right the rickety wooden post. The fewer people who found their way up here the better as far as he was concerned. Too damned dangerous. The whole place should have been bulldozed over when they found Teague Ellis’s body at the bottom of the mine shaft.