Free Maria's Trail (The Mule Tamer) by John Horst Page A

tell Juana of her plan. She didn’t want to disappoint Juana. She knew
Juana had the best intentions and that she loved the whores because that was
the only life she’d known. The whores were good to her and she’d not had anyone
do it to her yet, like the bastard Sanchez did to her, so Juana didn’t think it
was such a terrible thing. But Maria knew differently.
     

Chapter V:  Padre
     
    Maria didn’t know why, but she could not resist
the pretty gold candle holders on either side of the alter. She looked around.
No one was in the church. She looked up and saw the likeness of Jesus nailed to
the cross, just as Juana described it. It was horrible and she wasn’t sorry
that she’d not known of Jesus before. She was not certain any of this could be
right. What kind of God would let his son be tortured and treated in such a
way? It made no sense.
    She took the candles out of the holders and set
them carefully down on the big table. She’d not need them as they wouldn’t
fetch a good price and they’d be cumbersome to transport to the fence. She
turned and nearly ran into the tall man.
    “Where do you think you’re going, little
bitch?” He grabbed her by the arm and squeezed hard, hard enough to hurt Maria
and leave a mark. This made her angry and she clubbed him across the head with
one of the sticks. He stumbled but didn’t let go. He was a tough one.
    She raised the holder high. She’d do a proper
job of it this time and knock him senseless. Someone grabbed her arm from
behind. She could do nothing now but wait to see what her captors had in store
for her.
    “Well, now.” She looked at the man behind her.
He had a funny accent, one she’d never heard before. He was dressed all in
black so she figured he must be a priest. The other was dressed in peon
clothes. He was a worker in the church. He was bleeding profusely from the blow
to his head and he was very angry at her.
    “Padre, let me take her, I’ll give her to the
rurales.” He sneered as he blotted the wound on his head.
    “No, no.” He looked down at Maria and gave her
a kind smile. “If she promises not to fight or run away, I won’t let the
rurales have her.”
    Maria stopped fighting and stood still. She
could only think of pendejo Pedro, the rurale, and did not want to be anywhere
near such men. She looked up at the priest, into his strange blue eyes and
nodded, promising not to fight or run away.
    “Good, good.” He looked up at the peon. “Go on
back and have Agata look at your head, Paulo. I’ll take care of this little
one.”
    Maria watched the man stride away. The priest
turned away as well and began fixing the candles, putting them back in place.
Maria thought for a moment and started to drift toward the front door of the
church. She could get away.
    “Hungry?”
    She stopped and looked back at the old priest.
He was not like any of them. He had pale skin and tan hair with a good amount
of gray on the sides. He had pale blue eyes and he was tall, more than six
feet.
    “A little.” She wasn’t really. She’d been
eating well enough but thought it sounded better if he thought she was
starving.
    He stood back and regarded his work. The
candles were now back in their proper place. “Come with me.”
    She followed him and was soon in a kitchen with
an old woman and the man she’d clobbered. He looked at her, then away. The old
woman grinned.
    “Agata, this is…”
    “Maria.” She looked down at the floor.
    “Maria. She needs something to eat.” He patted
Maria on the head and walked away. Paulo soon followed and she was now in the
church’s kitchen, alone with Agata, the cook.
    “Will he be all right?”
    Agata snorted. “Oh, you hit him on the head.
Everyone who knows Paulo knows his head is full of rocks. You didn’t hurt him
any.”  She grinned and winked at Maria. “Just his pride.”
    Maria looked at the food being prepared for the
evening meal. There was pie. She’d never had pie in her life. She was