NOT JUST ANY MAN – CHAPTER 31

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 31

When Gerald repeats this observation a week later in the cozy Taos parlor, Jeremiah Peabody chuckles and Suzanna laughs out loud. “I’ve never thought of the fur business as ephemeral,” she says as she pours Gerald’s tea. “Those plews certainly seem solid enough, although lightweight.”

“The trade certainly has become complicated.” Her father turns to Gerald. “While you were in Santa Fe, Thomas Smith and Maurice LeDuc hid their furs in a cave somewhere near La Cienega and then came into Taos to make sure the coast was clear before they brought them in. They’d apparently had a run-in with someone in authority northwest of Santa Fe.” He nods at Gerald. “I hear they also exchanged money and goods before a resolution was found. Deception and half-truths seem to be very popular these days.”

“The truth certainly doesn’t seem to be very popular,” Suzanna says. “Ignacio Sandoval’s father was assaulted by an American trapper because Ignacio reported Ewing Young to the authorities. Fortunately, the alcalde was nearby and intervened.” She shakes her head. “I hate to think what might have happened to Señor Sandoval simply because he believes people should obey the law.”

“There aren’t many like him, either Spanish or American,” Gerald says glumly. “Too many people either change the rules or don’t want to live by them. Personally, I’d prefer to make a living doing something less subject to interpretation.”

Jeremiah Peabody hefts the Latin tome he’s been holding. “This is why I prefer books and teaching,” he says. “Ultimately, my interpretation is mine alone.” He places the book on the small table beside him and grins at Suzanna. “Is there tea in that pot for me, my dear, or is Mr. Locke the only recipient of your largesse this afternoon?”

“You were busy with your book,” Suzanna teases. She fills a cup and hands it to him, then turns to Gerald. “Would you like more bread and butter?”

“No, thank you,” he says. He hesitates. “Did James Pattie send word that he had gone to Santa Rita?”

Suzanna shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” She turns to her father. “Did he have reason to inform you of his whereabouts, papá?”

Her father shakes his head and lifts his cup to his lips. Suzanna turns back to Gerald. “The plot that you found for my potatoes has produced beautifully!” she says eagerly. “Ramón helped me plant seed potatoes from last year’s crop and they seem to be doing nicely!” She glances at her father. “There were differences of opinion about how best to store them, so I tried three different methods, and both the straw and sand seemed to work equally well—”

Ramón? The name is familiar, but Suzanna’s eyes are on his. Gerald pushes the question aside and leans toward her, absorbed by both her words and her enthusiasm. Jeremiah Peabody returns to his book, a small smile on his lips.

Copyright © 2018 Loretta Miles Tollefson

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