Questions and Answers
Gushing Stream woke later and stretched a little, and Ignacio was startled out of his doze. He glanced down at the woman in his arms, and noticed that she seemed a little stronger than she had been.
Ignacio flexed his shoulders a little, and watched her open her eyes. Deep dark pools of almost black peeped out at him, making him smile a little.
"Hello," he murmured. "How are you feeling?"
"Sleepy, but a little better."
"You had us worried for a little while," he said. "You were very weak."
"I still am I think," she said. "I've had such nightmares."
"You were saying something about a man. Your husband." She startled against him. He kissed the top of her head. "It's alright. I'm not going to let him hurt you again."
"My husband…Oh," she murmured. Gushing Stream stared into space.
"It was a long time ago. It's so long ago, Ignacio."
He waited.
"He was a monster. Truly a monster. He's dead now."
"You said you killed him."
She turned her head to look at him. "Did I say that?"
"Yes. Did you kill him?"
"Does it matter?" Ignacio was a little stunned by the question.
"What are you saying?"
"There were witnesses, apparently," she murmured. He froze for a moment. She sighed. "Witnesses that say I didn't do any such thing," she added. "I don't believe them."
Ignacio had gone from tense to relaxed to tense again. "What do you mean?"
"He was drunk, they said. Drunk and imbalanced."
"Men do get imbalanced when they drink to excess," Ignacio said.
"It only took a touch," she murmured. "I touched him. He fell. He fell down the stairs in our hacienda."
"He was drunk. Your touch wouldn't have done anything," Ignacio said with a sigh of relief. "You didn't push him downstairs. If the witnesses said you didn't, then you didn't," he added. If they had sworn to it, then that was what had happened. He could imagine a victimised woman taking advantage of the situation and shoving a dangerous man down stairs to meet his end. There had been witnesses. If she had taken advantage of the situation someone would have seen her.
"His brother says otherwise," Gushing Stream whispered. "He frightens me, Ignacio. He believes that because I was born an Indian I was always trying to kill my husband."
"Nonsense, this is all emotional turmoil, Gushing Stream. The man cannot have a vendetta against you. That's nonsense…" She cast a look of annoyance at him, and he sighed. "I know men…"
"You don't know these men. My husband pushed me down those stairs three times while he was drunk. I lost three babies before they were born," she whispered. "I wanted him dead. My wishes killed him. There were so many times I wanted to end it for myself, when I was in fear all the time. There were so many times I planned his death, right down to the weapon in my hand. I hated him so much, Ignacio. The night before he died, I had held a dagger to my own chest, ready to plunge it into myself. A maid had entered my rooms, otherwise I would have died."
"Who flogged you?"
"What?"
"The whip marks on your back. I know what made them. My father had a whip, I have the same scars from my boyhood."
Gushing Stream shuddered a little. "I thought I felt something on your back," she whispered.
"Well?"
"It doesn't matter. It's healed now," she answered. "No one ever sees them. It's not a problem, Ignacio."
"It is. Someone hurt you, and I want to know who."
"So you can hurt them as well? Ignacio, that just keeps violence moving. It is a cycle. Someone would want to have vengeance over you, and hurt you, and then someone would hurt them back."
"No they wouldn't," he said ruefully. "No one would avenge me."
There was a strange silence. "I would," she whispered.
He held her close to him, and kissed her head. "Please, we don't need to talk about this," she whispered. "I did the wrong thing a long time ago, and I paid for it. There were boundaries I was not allowed to cross."
"As a child? As a woman?"
"Both," she said. "I have been punished as both."
"Never again. Never ever again."
"Alonso's brother hates me, and always has. I ran away, and I signed everything over to Enrique. He would have killed me to get the fortune back. I think he just wants to kill me now. I don't know why," she murmured.
"Are you sure that you didn't dream this part? Why would Enrique want you dead if he has everything he wanted?" Ignacio asked. He wanted to soothe her, and calling her fears irrational may just reason them away, and stop them hurting her. He could then discover how true they really were.
"I don't know."
"Did he threaten you? Did he hurt you?"
"He tried to touch me. He tried to force me to…" Her voice faded. "I couldn't. I could see hate in his eyes, not love. How could I give myself to that sort of man? Even to safeguard my future, or to save my life?"
Ignacio swore under his breath. He would kill the man, he promised himself. If Enrique came anywhere near Gushing Stream he would kill him. He would defend her honor.
"Marry me, Gushing Stream. I can protect you. I love you," Ignacio said softly. She relaxed a little. "I can keep you safe. I will never leave you unguarded. I will defend you to my last drop of blood."
"Ignacio, you frighten me. I don't want any violence," she whispered.
"Enrique may not give us any choice," Ignacio said softly. "If you married me, he would have no claim to you."
"If he killed you he would."
"Not going to happen, my love. Never going to happen," he said with a smile.
She glanced at him.
"Now," he said. "You will have some of the cactus tea, even if it is disgusting. Then when it is lunchtime you will have some broth."
"And so will you," she murmured. "I heard your stomach growling before. You need nourishment as much as I do."
"Not quite as much as you do," he answered softly. He shifted his weight a little, and she eased herself off his chest, and onto the pillows. He swung himself down from the bed. Picking up the cup of cactus tea, he lifted it to her lips. She screwed her nose up at the smell of the potion, but she reached out and took the cup. Shaking fingers held the vessel, and lifted it to her own mouth. He cupped his hand over hers and helped her steady the shaking. She sipped at it, and glancing at his excited eyes, she continued to drink until the little cup was empty.
"Good work, my love. Rest and sleep for a while," Ignacio said, proud of her willingness to try. She looked drowsy very quickly. "I'll get us both some chicken broth. Marcela will be happy to hear that we are both eating something for lunch."
"Ignacio, don't go far," she whispered. Her eyes were closing to sleep, and he smiled at her.
"Of course not," he answered. "A quick trip downstairs for a chat to Marcela and to choose a book and then straight back up here. I can read for a while – you can sleep."
"Marry me, my love. Say yes," he whispered, but she was already drifting into a deep sleep. Hopefully she would not dream.