“When did you marry?”
“When I was twenty. That was four years ago.”
“Why did you wait so long if you’d been in love since childhood?”
“Mark didn’t want to marry until he could afford to furnish me with a home that was free and clear of debt. He figured we’d marry when I was twenty-five. That would have been next year.” She shook her head and smiled. “But he was that good at marketing the shoes. He managed to build a lovely store and a large work warehouse for his father and the men he trained, pay it all off within the first two years, and buy a small house for us.”
“It sounds like he was quite the man.”
Susanna felt a bittersweet pang of love. “He was. He was a good man.”
“And how did he die?”
She gazed out across the Rio Grande. “Influenza. We all had it. It was just a bad cold for me, but Mark took very ill with it, and the doctor said he developed pneumonia. He knew he was going to die. I don’t know how.” She couldn’t help but remember those last few hours. “He coughed so hard I thought he’d turn himself inside out.” She shook her head. “He coughed and coughed, and no matter how much medicine the doctor gave him, it didn’t seem to help. We had water boiling with herbs and made poultices for his chest with menthol. The doctor even had us brew very strong coffee and get him to drink it. That helped a bit, but not very much. His fever began to climb, and try as we might, we could not get it back down. Then the coughing stopped. He had no more strength for it. His mother and I never left his side as we bathed him in herb water and did whatever we could to see him through.
“Then, around eight o’clock in the evening, he opened his eyes and spoke. He was wheezing but otherwise could be clearly understood. He told us he wasn’t going to make it. His mother went for his father, and while she was gone, Mark gripped my hand and told me that he loved me and always had, but that he didn’t want me to spend my life in mourning. His folks were back by then, and he made them promise they wouldn’t grieve him forever. He wanted them to enjoy their lives and for me to remarry as soon as I felt I could. I didn’t even want to consider it, but he made me promise. He said he couldn’t die in peace knowing that I might spend the rest of my life lost in sorrow.”
“So you promised.”
“I did.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “By ten that evening, he was gone. We’d been married just three short years, but we’d had a lifetime of love.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head and met his eyes. “Don’t be. I’m not. Death is hard to face, but to have known life without him would have been harder. I’m grateful for the time we had. I am determined to regret nothing.”
“That’s a hard one.”
“I suppose it is.”
She let the horse have her head, which was a mistake. The sorrel picked up her pace and began to trot. A moment later, she was into a gallop.
Susanna held her seat and worked to bring the mare back under control. “Whoa, Daisy,” she called, pulling back gently on the reins. The horse seemed determined to run, but Susanna continued to impose control.
Finally, the mare slowed and reared up in protest. Susanna kept her seat, leaning into the horse like one born to a saddle. The horse gave two more jumps in protest but finally calmed.
Owen caught up with her. “You are quite a horsewoman. I’m impressed with the way you ride.”
“She’s a great mount but obviously doesn’t get out on a regular basis. We probably should have run her first thing and gotten the orneriness out of her.”
“She seems to have settled down now. And this is a great place for our picnic. There are trees along the river just over there.”
Susanna looked to the north. “It’s a very pretty place.”
Owen dismounted and helped her down from Daisy. They walked the horses the rest of the way. Owen handed her both sets of reins, then pulled the blanket from the back of his horse and spread it on the ground. Next, he took off the saddlebags and put them on the blanket, then took off the saddles before taking back the reins.
“I’ll water them and tie them off while you search through those saddlebags and see what we have for lunch,” he said. “Keep an eye out for snakes. They love an escape from the heat just like we do, and you can often find them in the brush around the trees and river.”
Susanna nodded and glanced around, a little unnerved. She sank onto the blanket, keeping a close eye out for anything that moved. Since their arrival, she’d heard horrible stories about giant spiders and scorpions and poisonous lizards, as well as snakes. It was enough to make her rethink a life in San Marcial. For the moment, however, everything seemed tranquil and without danger.
Susanna smiled at her own nervousness. She reached into the first of the pouches. Best just to get lunch out and ready. Doing something mundane and normal would put her fears to the back of her mind.
Owen had purchased ham and cheese sandwiches for their main course. Besides these, there were two large apples. In one of the other bags was a mason jar of lemonade. Surprisingly, it was still cold. There were no glasses, so she presumed they would share the jar. In the last pouch were two of the large quarter-cut pieces of Harvey House cherry pie wrapped in waxed paper. The pieces were a little squished but otherwise no worse for the wear.
“Well, I’m not at all sure how you intended for us to eat, but I have found plenty of food,” Susanna announced as Owen returned from overseeing the horses.
He laughed. “Fingers. We’ll probably make a mess, but I don’t figure there will be anyone to see, and we can wash up in the river.”
“Rather scandalous that we’re out here all alone,” she replied. With another man she might have felt completely out of sorts, but Owen made her feel strangely safe.
He looked stricken. “I never thought about safeguarding your reputation. I apologize. I suppose we should have asked Lia and LeRoy and the boys to join us.”
“I suppose, but I don’t mind. I’ve always lived my life in a way that I hoped was respectful and above reproach. If folks want to think ill of us, they will no matter who might accompany us.”
Owen lowered himself to the blanket and nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. Shall I offer grace?”
“Please.”
Susanna bowed her head, and Owen said a brief but heartfelt prayer.
Once he concluded, he grabbed one of the sandwiches and began to unwrap it. “I hope you don’t mind the simplicity.”
“Not at all.” She picked up the other sandwich. “I cherish it. I’m not one to stand on formalities. That would be my mother.”
He smiled. “Tell me about your folks. I’ve never met people who seemed more unhappy or uncomfortable. I’ve heard all sorts of stories about them.” He shook his head. “I probably shouldn’t have said that. I don’t mean to sound like folks are gossiping about them.”
“I’m sure they are, and probably most of the stories are true.” She frowned. “My father was born to a rich man. My grandfather could touch a coin and triple its value without even trying. My uncle Harrison is the same way. He has a natural understanding of investments and how and when to take a risk. My father unfortunately thinks this gift is also his.”