Conquistadora - Esmeralda Santiago [63]
Now Inocente’s plan to visit the farm in Caguas sounded like a ruse. Ramón and Inocente might be tired of the unending work at Los Gemelos and miss the amusements they enjoyed in Spain and San Juan. Her mind raced through scenarios and settled on the most likely. Once in San Juan, doña Leonor would press Inocente and Elena to live closer, perhaps on the farm in Caguas, about thirty kilometers from the capital. Soon Ramón would want to do the same because the brothers didn’t want to live apart.
Before they left Spain, they’d all agreed that at least five harvests were necessary to determine whether or not they could succeed as hacendados. Were they, after less than two years, ready to give up? Ramón would probably tell Ana that Severo could manage Los Gemelos. Had Severo encouraged their plans? She immediately dismissed the thought. It dawned on her that she trusted Severo Fuentes more than either Ramón or Inocente. He, of the three, had not yet disappointed her.
Severo arranged for Pepe to guide Inocente, accompanied by Alejo and Curro, the two men who’d pulled their dinghy to the beach the first day they arrived almost eighteen months earlier. Inocente was borrowing them to help on the farm in Caguas. As the date for his departure neared, Inocente spent more time with Miguel, studying his features with such intensity that Ana was sure he was looking for signs that Miguel was more like him than Ramón. As with their decision to share her, the twins didn’t consult her and hadn’t asked whether Ramón or Inocente was Miguel’s father. She couldn’t tell with any certainty, but she would assure them that it was Ramón. Even if she knew that it was Inocente, she’d never admit that her child was a bastard, and the product of adultery.
An early morning mist was suspended over the trees and canebrakes on the last day of June 1846. The usual birdsong was muted by the activity in the batey. The tamped red earth was etched by hooves, paws, the delicate markings of hen’s claws, the curves of bare feet, the square heels of boots.
Inocente held Miguel, pressed his lips to his forehead, said something into his ear, then handed him to Ana. He didn’t look at her directly but kissed her lightly on both cheeks with the child between them.
“We’ll celebrate his baptism when I return with Elena. We’ll be devoted godparents,” he said. “And someday you’ll do us the honor of being godparents to our children.” His cheeks were flushed, as if he was embarrassed.
“Of course we will,” Ana said.
Inocente rubbed Miguel’s head, and this time she was able to get him to look into her eyes. She startled at the hard expression there. Contempt? How was it possible? What had she done?
“Bring Mamá and Papá when you return,” Ramón said. “They can stay in one of the cottages. They should meet their grandchild. They’ll be proud of him.”
“They’ll be proud of what we’ve built here in such a short time.”
Inocente and Ramón stared at each other, communicating silently, saying something, she knew, about her. But what? The tension that had flickered since Miguel’s birth dissolved in one gaze, and both right hands reached for the other’s simultaneously, and left hands pressed the other’s shoulder into an embrace. They separated and kissed both cheeks, then hugged again. They hugged and kissed a third time, each unwilling to be the first to let the other go. Ana saw then what she’d imagined since the baby was born: that they blamed her for the rift between them. It wasn’t me, she wanted to scream. It was the child. You should have known this would happen.
The sun had burned through the mist, creating long, thin shadows. Inocente took a few steps toward his horse,