Page 21 of Working the Lode

“Oh, I am sure he is, to people who must do business with him. It is the…employees who have troubles with him.”

Señor Carillo moved with a genteel awareness, as though the entire crowd was watching him. “So what do you do in Lion Island with Señor Bowmaker?”

Zelnora tossed her head carelessly, attempting a light laugh. “Oh, the same thing most everyone else does these days.”

“Gold? Ah, a fool’s pursuit! You would do much better to be selling gold pans, axes, or better yet, cultivating vegetables, for none of these men have had so much as a bite of a tomato in years. Or fruit! On Vallejo’s land we have many fruit trees.”

“Oh, yes, my hus…my brother would very much enjoy some fruit juice,” Zelnora said passionately, carried off by the vision of an orange. She had heard Señor Carillo’s sentiment several times before. He was probably right.

“But you must be doing quite well in the mines, no?”

“Oh, yes, sometimes we dig about five hundred dollars’ worth a day—“

“Buenos tardes.” Although the musicians had not been able to wind Quartus down from his frenzied drumming and end the fandango, Cormack stood there, rudely interrupting the dance.

Zelnora was relieved to release her handhold on the caballero, and he stepped back politely, tipping his hat to Cormack. “Señor,” Cabrillo acknowledged.

Cormack took her arm rather roughly. “Thank you for watching out for her,” he told the Spaniard. “We must be going now, however.”

“I understand.” Cabrillo nodded, and stepped back a few more paces, hand held to his stomach in a tiny bow.

Cormack sped her off past the trio of musicians.

“Where are we going?”

Under his breath, Cormack said, “To the river.”

Zelnora looked in excited shame at the ground as Cormack nearly dragged her over the dried brown grass. “You know, that Spanish fellow is a caballero for Vallejo. He advised me to sow vegetable crops.”

“I wonder if he knows anything about that Sonoran Camp.”

“I doubt it. He’s very skeptical about any idea of gold.”