Chapter 4: Insult

Colonel Sheraton and Maggie and cantered to the top of a rise and looked at the Rancho Flores spread out before them. "I suppose, as Julius Cesar would say, 'The die is cast,' " the Colonel declared. "As soon as the deed is returned from Monterey I will officially be a California landowner, subject to the laws and whims of his majesty King Ferdinand VII. Does that make me a hidalgo? And do you think people will start calling me 'Don Roberto'?" he asked, smiling.

"I think it takes noble Spanish blood to make you a hidalgo so that eliminates us. Suppose we just be good ranchers? And I have no intention of calling you anything but 'Papa,' so don't start putting on airs." The two of them swung their horses around and headed back toward the De la Vega hacienda.

The legal process had been lengthy and often frustrating. On the one hand Licenciado Piña attributed the many delays to the high level of detail work required by Spanish property law. On the other hand he could not really account for why Don Alfonso's cash bequest seemed to be only two-thirds of the original figure stated in writing. "Expenses for the upkeep of the property," the licenciado had declared rather nebulously.

"So we can't take possession until we have the actual deed?" queried Maggie.

"I'm afraid not," replied her father. "But I'm sure Don Alejandro won't mind if we stay on a little longer. He's been remarkably gracious and helpful so far. And since we have decided to stay he is giving a reception in our honor so that we can meet our fellow landowners."

Now that Maggie was fully recovered from their long overland journey and they had decided to remain in Alta California, she was becoming restless. Used to the responsibilities of running a large farm back in Maryland, and then to keeping house for her father in Arkansas, she was beginning to chafe under the enforced inactivity of a houseguest. True, riding out every day on Thunderhead, her grey stallion, provided a diversion. Don Diego proved to be an excellent horseman and a pleasant companion. But she could only ride for so long. One evening, out of exasperation, she had enquired if she might help the servants clear the table after dinner. The resulting look on Don Alejandro's face suggested he was about to have a stroke. She had never asked again.

So she sighed as she rode back to the De la Vega stables. To make matters worse, she felt a headache coming on. That's what I get for spending too much time in the garden without a hat, she thought. Onceback in her room, Maggie was leaning into the pillows on the window seat and hoping to catch a breeze when Buena knocked on her door and announced: "Doña Elvira Ramirez has come calling to see you, Señora." This was a considerable surprise since Maggie had no idea who the woman was or why she would want to speak to her.

At the head of the stairs Maggie stopped and turned to Buena. "Who is this again?"

"Doña Elvira Ramirez," the servant replied slowly so that Maggie could grasp the name. "She and her husband Don Tomás are among Don Alejandro's oldest friends." Trying to ignore her aching head Maggie took a deep breath and headed downstairs.

As she turned into the sala, Maggie saw two women standing before the fireplace. One was tall and somewhat greying, with dark eyes, an aquiline nose, and an aristocratic bearing. This, Maggie guessed, was the doña. The other woman was younger, not so elegantly dressed, and somewhat subdued. This must be her maid, thought the colonel's daughter. Both women were dressed entirely in black.

"Señora Ramirez," said Maggie, approaching the visitors with a slightly forced smile. "I am Maggie Emerson. Please, sit down." She gestured toward the chairs. Maggie and Doña Elvira sat near the fireplace. The maid took a chair a little apart. "Is there something I can do for you?"

The older woman's face remained neutral. "I have come to make your acquaintance, as is our custom here."

"That's very kind of you," replied Maggie with what she hoped was a friendly nod.

"You are an American, I believe. From where does your family come?"

"Our farm back home is in the state of Maryland, which is in the eastern part of our country, bordering the Atlantic ocean."

"And how long has your family lived there?" inquired the doña.

"Well, my father's father was born there, but beyond that I don't really know."

"How did your family acquire its land?"

Maggie was beginning to feel like a schoolgirl called on the carpet for some offense. "I'm afraid I don't know for sure." The ache was definitely making itself felt in her head.

"Ah, no matter! Now that you are here the first thing you must do is see to your hacienda and your servants."

"I don't expect we'll have many servants beyond the vaqueros for the stock —"

"But you must keep a proper household," the older woman interrupted. "You must have a housekeeper, a mozo for your father, a personal maid for yourself; perhaps also a steward, house servants, and a cook."

"We won't need a cook," stated Maggie, increasingly annoyed at the woman's attitude. "I've cooked for my father before and I'll be doing it again."

At this Doña Elvira bridled. "You will be the doña of an estate. You must not lower yourself to menial tasks such as cooking."

The ache in Maggie's head exploded and she could no longer keep the annoyance and exasperation out of her voice. " Doña Elvira, I have cooked for my family and a dozen farm hands back home. I have cooked for my father and then for my husband and sometimes for half an army base in Arkansas. I assure you that I am perfectly capable of cooking and keeping house for my father here in California!"

Dona Elvira's face became a mask of stone. She rose abruptly. "I see I have overstayed my welcome. I wish you joy and comfort in your new home. Come Luisa." She nodded to her maid, and marched out to her carriage with the excessive dignity of someone who has just been insulted.

It was very clear to Maggie that she'd done something terribly wrong. Perhaps if her head would stop throbbing she could figure out what it was. She made her way to the kitchen. Rosa was slicing vegetables, and Cresencia was drinking a cup of tea. Both of them stood up as she entered. Why do they keep treating me like royalty? she thought. But she wasn't in the mood to have that discussion, so she simply asked, "Do either of you have anything that will help a bad headache?"

"Si, Señora," replied Rosa. "I will fix something for you now. Why don't you go up to your room and Cresencia will bring it to you?" A short while after Maggie arrived upstairs there was a knock at her door. The housekeeper carried a glass which she set down on the table beside the bed.

"Here, Señora," said Cresencia, pulling back the ornate coverlet, "lie down and sip this. It might make you sleep a little, but you will feel better soon." Maggie climbed into bed, half sitting up. She leaned back against the pillows and took the glass. The liquid was cold and sour but she drank it.

"Thank you, Cresencia," she said to the housekeeper. The older woman left and Maggie continued to sip. She began to feel the throbbing in her head lessen, and then she dozed off.

She was awakened by the sound of voices — angry voices? — drifting up from the open window in Don Alejandro's study below. As her drowsiness ebbed away, she realized there were three different voices. She could only make out snatches of what they were saying.

The first voice was the steward Arturo: "Ramirez...Emerson...departure...abrupt..."

The second voice, the really angry voice, was Don Alejandro: "...insult...hospitality...guest...my home..."

The last voice was Don Diego. He seemed to be trying to calm his father down: "...unfamiliar...customs...different..."

Maggie fell back against the pillows. Perhaps if she just stayed in this room for the rest of her life she could get by in this new land. She secluded herself for the rest of the afternoon but as the dinner hour approach, she knew she would have to make an appearance. At the very least she would have to explain to her father what had happened. Might as well face the music and get it over with, she thought. So she dressed and went down at the usual time.

She didn't know whether to be glad or upset that the chair at the head of the table stood empty. "You must excuse my Father," declared Don Diego. "He is indisposed."

Maggie wasn't surprised, nor was she surprised to discover at the end of a very subdued meal that her headache was back.