The Inheritance Chapter Four: The Last Supper and Taking Leave
Two days later, after a few more lost chess games, John Cannon had reached his limit with his wife's uncle. Well, at least the man is leaving tomorrow, he thought. But where in tarnation is he? He knows dinner's at six. A quick glance at his pocket watch told John it was a quarter past. His scowl emphasized his displeasure.
"Victoria, is your uncle ever coming down to dinner?" John's voice boomed, if not loud enough to wake the dead, indeed loud enough for Don Domingo to hear upstairs, Victoria realized. She took a deep breath to keep herself calm, and she replied in a honeyed tone.
"Tío is coming soon, my husband. We shall have a wonderful farewell dinner together. He will be leaving too early in the morning to enjoy breakfast, so we must say our goodbyes tonight. You know this, John."
"Hmmm!" his expression grim, his eyebrows a straight line, John breathed hard but said nothing more.
"Buenas tardes!" Mano trotted downstairs, greeting them all with a warm smile. He looks much better than he did a week ago, Victoria thought, beaming.
"I am hungry enough to eat me a horse!" a voice hollered as the casa's outer door banged open and shut as if blown by the wind. Buck stomped across the tiled floor, smacking a dusty hat against a dusty leg until he met the outrage in Victoria's eyes. He stopped as if a rope had been thrown about his neck, looked down, and backed up without a word, spinning on his heels to stride outside. John chuckled. Mano smirked.
"Your brother!" Victoria announced, hands on her hips and chin elevated in disdain. Mano choked back his laughter in the guise of a coughing fit. John had less luck concealing his guffaw. "Oooh!" Victoria stormed back into the kitchen. John caught the words "cabeza dura" and "bruto," not sure if she meant him or Buck. He exhaled with vigor and glanced at his brother-in-law, who shrugged.
"I am sure my sister was referring to Buck just now, John," Mano said with a grin.
"Oh yeah, I am sure she was," John shook his head. The two men looked at each other a moment and chuckled "Well, she wants this to be a nice dinner and all. You'd think Buck would have figured it out by now."
"One would think," Mano admitted. "But only for Victoria would he even consider washing up for dinner."
"Yup," John agreed. "Mano, do you think your uncle is coming down anytime soon? It is getting late." Just then his question was answered by a cultured voice from atop the stairs.
"Good evening," Don Domingo announced. "I trust you are all refreshed and ready for our meal?"
"Tío, we are certainly ready for our meal, but perhaps not everyone is, ah, refreshed," Mano said, pointing to the front door where a cleaner and red-faced Buck re-entered, brushing off his shirt with his now ungloved hands, scrubbed pink.
"Shall we go in?" Domingo asked, sweeping through the den, a matador lacking only the cape, and leading the way into the dining room while the rest followed. "Ah, what a lovely repast." Dishes of green beans, saffron rice, and buttery corn awaited on the table draped with Victoria's best cloth and accented by polished silver. The scent of yeasty rolls filled the room. "And such beauty in the desert," Domingo exclaimed as he leaned in to sniff a flower from a bowl at the center. He sat to the right of the place he knew his niece would sit, while the others assumed their spots, John with a small frown.
"Good evening, Domingo," John said, his tone flat as he settled in his chair.
"Señor Cannon." The Don inclined his head.
Just then, the door to the kitchen swung open and Victoria backed into the room, her hip, encased in a snug green skirt, leaning against the door as she carried a large tray of roasted hens. Her skirt caught on a splinter and she staggered a bit under the weight of the fowls while striving not to snag her clothes. "Oh dear!" she exclaimed. Domingo burst from his chair the exact second as John. Both strode to Victoria, at the same instant grabbing opposite ends of the tray and finding themselves face to face, separated only by chickens.
"Allow me, Señor Cannon," Domingo crooned.
"I've got it," John said, insistent.
Both men stared. A showdown over poultry that lasted half a minute.
"As you wish," Domingo broke the silence, surrendering his portion to John, who carried the tray to the table while his adversary, sensing his advantage, made for Victoria. "My niece, permit me to extricate you." Domingo said, with a swift stroke freeing Victoria's skirt from the rough patch of door. "There you are, my dear."
"Oh, thank you, Tío," Victoria exclaimed while John glared. Next, Domingo moved to pull out his niece's chair before John could even react. She smiled her gratitude. "How nice to have such a gentleman at my table."
John glared. Buck's eyes opened wide. Mano bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
At last I feel halfway decent, Mano thought as he trotted down the few stairs of the High Chaparral ranch house early the next morning. Buck was outside saddling their horses. As Mano started for the door, his sister's voice stopped him. He glanced back into the living room to see her sitting in a chair before the hearth. The dying embers of last night's fire glowed red and orange in the pre-dawn darkness.
"Manolito?"
"Victoria, why are you up? It is long before daylight, muchacha. You knew we were leaving early today. We said our goodbyes last night. Tío and Buck are already outside."
"I know, Mano. I just wanted to have a word with you before you go." She rose and walked to her brother as she spoke.
"All right. Let us be quick though. This may surprise you, but I do not wish to keep them waiting."
"Mano, we have not talked about Papá's letter." She would bring that up, he thought. To think I believed we had avoided this conversation. He sighed.
"You want to know if I have made a decision about the rancho?"
"And have you?"
"Not yet. I am thinking about it. That is all I have promised I will do. To think about it." He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Do not worry, Victoria. Anyway, Tío is going to live a very long time and it may well be, cómo se dice, a moot point. He may outlive me. And then you can all enjoy yourselves deciding who will run Rancho Montoya." He chuckled.
"Te quiero, Manolito. Ten cuidado," she kissed him in return and watched, unsmiling, as he nodded, turned, pulled on his hat, and strode out the door. Hermano, she thought, I trust you to do the right thing, but I do wish you would make up that mind of yours. Men! A half smile crossed her face and she spun to head for the kitchen to start the morning coffee. She was much too awake to go back to bed and John needed his rest.
Outside, Mano saw Buck already mounted on Rebel. Ruiz, patient and mild, waited on his horse. Joe and Pedro were just riding up from the corral. There was no sign of Tío Domingo.
"Where is my uncle?" Mano inquired, bemused.
"Here nephew, behind you!" Domingo's voice was soft and good humored. Mano looked around and spotted him lounging on the hammock, puffing on his ever present cigarillo, a small smile on his face.
"Are we leaving now, Tío?"
"But of course, my nephew. I was merely waiting for you." In one fluid motion, Domingo sprang from the hammock, approached the tie-rail, untied his horse, stepped around and mounted. Madre de Dios, Mano observed, he looks like a matador, a ballet dancer, an acrobat.
Feeling stiff and awkward in comparison, Mano walked over to Macadoo, untied the riata, guided his foot into the stirrup, and eased himself up into the saddle. He winced, grimacing. Ah, these ribs still hurt and the place the bullet lodged is sore. Two days on this horse will not help. He exhaled hard and patted Macadoo. "Vamonos, Mac," he said in a low voice.
Domingo led the way out of the gate. Julius Caesar at the helm of the armies of Rome on their conquest of Britain, glorious, head held high, thought Mano. No, that would have involved a ship or two. Maybe Caesar conquering the Gauls. Better that. I never liked the French. Ay yi yi, still what a picture! Tío, you are something. I do not know what, but something.
"The Inheritance" is the creation of VKS & MJRod, who originated the characters of Teresa Lauder, Valencio Ruiz, and Pacquito Ruiz with the intention of honoring all those involved in the making of our favorite western, "The High Chaparral."