Conquistadora - Esmeralda Santiago [62]
“I appreciate it, Severo. Buenos días.”
She rode toward the batey, resisting the urge to see if he was watching her go. Her old mare didn’t like to move faster than necessary, but Ana astonished her by spurring her into a gallop. The pounding hooves, the heated air filling her lungs, the sweet, fruity aroma as she rode past the mango tree. This was joy.
“Looks like you had a good ride.”
For a moment, she wasn’t sure whether it was Ramón or Inocente standing outside the barn. The first few months after they arrived at Hacienda los Gemelos, they’d grown muscular and radiated the exuberance of young men who loved the outdoors and their own strong bodies. But in the last year, and especially after Miguel was born, both Ramón and Inocente had become strangely haggard. Inocente’s face, particularly, was deeply lined, his lips had thinned, and he always looked like he didn’t get enough sleep. She knew the brothers were working harder than ever. They were in the fields all day long, and without her to help them, they often worked into the night at the finca, preparing the reports demanded by the municipal government, tax authorities, and customs officials. She seethed with anger when she imagined what her meticulous books and ledgers might look like now that they had taken them from her.
“I did have a lovely ride.” He made no effort to help her dismount. The brothers knew she was capable but had always been gentlemen. That, too, had changed in the last few months.
“I need a moment with you,” he said.
“Let’s sit in the shade, then.” She waited until he remembered to offer his elbow as they walked around the pond, toward a stump under another mango tree. Unlike the ones she’d just passed, this one, according to the workers who’d lived on the hacienda for years, had never given fruit. Almost the minute Ana and Inocente sat under its shade, he stood and paced.
“Hacienda los Gemelos has been an extraordinary adventure,” he said, “and Ramón and I are grateful to you. If you hadn’t urged us, we’d be cooped up in offices in Cádiz. In less than two years you’ve created a home for us and have added to our family.”
He was so formal, so solemn. Ana sat rigid, steeling her nerves. Whatever he was about to say, she thought, couldn’t be good news.
“It’s time that I have my own household, Ana. I’m going to San Juan to marry Elena.”
Once she grasped what he’d said, and what it meant, she breathed easier. “I’m so happy to hear that.” She let his words sink in, then asked, “Will you come back here, or do you plan to live in San Juan?”
“We will settle on the finca. It’s small but comfortable enough until we can build. We should be back before the zafra.”
Ana counted mentally. Six months. Across the pond, Ramón rode into the yard. He saw them, waved, and disappeared inside.
“When will you sail for San Juan, then?”
“I’m planning to ride. We didn’t see much of Puerto Rico by sailing around the island.”
“I thought that the roads aren’t good.”
“I’m a cavalry officer’s son, and a veteran,” he said with a rueful smile. “I grew up on bad roads.”
“That’s true. But you’re not traveling alone?”
“Of course not. I’ll take one of our men, Pepe, the foreman. He has family in a town near the capital. We’ll leave in a week.”
“So soon?”
“Yes. Elena and I will spend a few weeks in Caguas. Papá seems to be enjoying his retirement and pays little attention to the farm. I’ve learned a great deal about what it takes to run a plantation,” he continued, as if delivering a speech to an association of bankers, “and I can help him. I also know that Elena will be as excellent a partner as you are to Ramón.” He was as distant as if already many leagues away.
She didn’t trust him—or Ramón. They were too secretive and were deliberately isolating her from their financial dealings. In the past few weeks, she’d noticed that there was greater tension between the brothers. If