NOT JUST ANY MAN – CHAPTER 24

The following material is an extract from NOT JUST ANY MAN, A Novel of Old New Mexico, Copyright © 2018 Loretta Miles Tollefson. Published by Palo Flechado Press, Santa Fe, NM

A Note about Spanish Terms: This novel is set in northern New Mexico and reflects as much as possible the local dialect at that time. Even today, Northern New Mexico Spanish is a unique combination of late 1500s Spanish, indigenous words from the First Peoples of the region and of Mexico, and terms that filtered in with the French and American trappers and traders. I’ve tried to represent the resulting mixture as faithfully as possible. My primary source of information was Rubén Cobos’ excellent work, A Dictionary of New Mexico and Southern Colorado Spanish (University of New Mexico Press, 2003). Any errors in spelling, usage, or definition are solely my responsibility.

CHAPTER 24

Suzanna looks up from her novel and rubs her eyes. Although the mica filters the winter light, there’s enough to read by if she sits on the adobe window seat. Yet her eyes are tired. She closes them, then glances at the door. Her father is going to appear any minute now and ask why she’s not at the table, where her Latin grammar lies unattended.

If she tells him she can’t concentrate, he’s going to want to know why. He’ll probably decide that she’s been drinking the strawberry leaf tea because she’s unwell, and then banish her to bed.

She shudders. Inactivity in bed is the last thing she needs. Lack of exercise is probably the real reason she’s so restless. It’s been an exceptionally cold winter, and she hasn’t been outside in a week. She leans closer to the window. The dim light may be adequate for reading, but she craves sunshine as if it were a food.

Her mind strays to Young’s trappers somewhere far to the west, where she’s been told its warm even in winter, where there’s no lack of sunshine. She sighs. That would be nice. To walk forever across the landscape, soaking in the light, moving in time with the long strides of her companion— She catches herself and her lips twitch. And who would that companion be? A stride equal to hers, gray eyes in a brown face, smiling at her in bemusement. His sturdy square hands—

Suzanna feels herself flush and she leans her face against the cool milky panes of the window. She wishes winter was over, that there’s some way to hear from the men in the field. They’ve been gone such a long time. The waiting is so difficult. Especially when she has nothing to occupy herself. Nothing except Latin and novels.

Then she hears her father’s step in the hallway. She rises abruptly and goes to the fire. The flames will be reason enough for the heat on her cheeks. She takes a deep breath and turns to face the door as it opens.

He glances at the book in her hand. “Miss Rowson?” he says in mild surprise. “Is the Latin not engaging enough for you this morning, my dear?”

She drops her eyes. “I stumbled on the grammar and need your assistance, papá,” she says. As she goes to the table and lifts the Latin text, he watches her in bemusement, but his face is studiously blank when she turns back to him with the book in her hand.

Copyright © 2018 Loretta Miles Tollefson

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