A Woman’s Ways

A Woman’s Ways

By Wendy

Rating: PG

Warnings: I tried to stay true to the attitudes of the time, place, and character Also, one little, tiny curse word. This takes places after the episode "Homeland" *Episode Spoiler*

Disclaimer: I don't own them and didn't create them.

If there was one thing in this whole world more irritating and confusing than gringos and their ways, it was white women and theirs.

Carlos came to that realization in the elegant, tiled hall of his family’s home, after waiting for over half and hour for Senora Greene to appear and bring Isabela with her. And if there was anything worse than being told to wait, it was being told to wait for that…woman…to meet him in his family’s home.

But she was caring for his precious hermanita, so he told himself to calm down. Perhaps he would even find a smile in him for Senora Greene today.

"You’re here early." Senora Greene’s cold voice made him raise his head and straighten angrily. Perhaps no.

For a moment Carlos observed her as she approached, noticing with disapproval her plain black attire and her stern face and icy eyes. These women rarely had any spirit or beauty that he had seen, and Senora Greene had none at all. And she had manners that said she had not been brought up as a proper lady should have been.

But Isabela was behind her, so he merely nodded at her before opening his arms to pull his little sister close in a tight embrace. He inhaled the clean scent of her hair and thanked God once again that she was alive, even if he had failed her as a brother and a protector. Then he stepped away, looking over her appearance critically in case she had been mistreated here.

She looked well. There was color in her cheeks, he noted in approval. Perhaps Senora Greene with her lack of passion would make a good duenna. He turned to reluctantly to face her at the thought.

"Thank you again," he said and immediately stiffened at her single, arched eyebrow, as if she was surprised that a simple Mexican could be polite. But she jerked her head in a quick nod in the next moment.

"It is good to see you today, Carlos," Isabela murmured sweetly and he turned back to her, feeling himself start to relax at her obvious happiness. "But I must go. I am cleaning out the barn," she continued excitedly. She jumped up and kissed his cheek before doing the same to Senora Greene and dashing down the hall.

Carlos frowned at her back before turning on her host.

"She is working in the barn?" he demanded angrily, startling her for a moment. He saw her eyes widen before she raised her chin to stare calmly into his eyes. "With the hands?"

"Is something wrong with that?" she wondered coolly. She had the air of a Madonna in a church, too pure to touch. And that is exactly what she was—a woman of stone.

She was probably even pleased that he’d lost his temper again, more proof that a filthy greaser was little more than a beast. His heart pounded furiously at the thought.

He stared into her emotionless eyes and then spun away with a frustrated growl.

"I did not agree to let her stay here to be your servant!"

"My servant?" That made her angry. He looked up just in time to see something like lightening streak across her pale eyes. Then she blinked and it was gone. "What’s wrong with a little hard work? Tess is out there with her."

Carlos stilled, then glanced in the direction Isabela had gone. He tried to think of what his friend Ben Cartwright would say.

"Tess?" he asked in a voice that was only a little calmer.

"What are you worried about? That she’ll hurt herself? Or that she’ll get a little dirty?" Senora Greene went on, her voice cracking like a whip.

"She is a proper girl and a Rivera and Riveras do not work in the stables…!"

"You do." She tossed her head, very certain of herself, and for a moment all he could feel was rage. His family’s land, in the hands of this cold, unfeeling… "Why can’t Isabela if she wants to?" Senora Greene added.

"Because…"

"Because you Mexicans seem to feel a woman is some sacred, precious thing that needs constant protection!"

"No!" Carlos charged forward to stand over her, forcing her to look up at him. He barely resisted the urge to grab her by her shoulders. "Because we love them so much we wish to keep the dirt and pain of this world from them!"

"Men!" Margaret Greene’s eyes flashed like a storm again, her cheeks filling with color as she glared up at him without moving away. "It doesn’t matter where you’re from, you all go on and on about how women need protecting and then when things get tough you’re nowhere to be found!"

Carlos stopped in surprise at the violent fury in her expression.

"Isabela made it this far without a man’s protection and I don’t think a little horse shit will kill her." Her vulgar words hardly made an impact when compared to the rest of her angry speech. He let his arms fall to his sides and clenched his hands into fists at his sense of guilt and failure.

"You are right…" he started to admit heavily but she interrupted.

"And now like most men you feel guilty." Her voice was cold again, colder than the mountains in winter. "Why don’t you take your guilt and find a use for it."

He raised his head sharply, his shame turning back into anger.

"I was trying to apologize to you," he muttered through gritted teeth, hating to even make the admission now. Had she no womanly feelings?

Her expression softened only for a moment but even that was surprising.

"Apologize to Isabela," Margaret Greene whispered almost gently and then frowned, a woman of stone again. He must have imagined her temper of a moment ago. But he nodded stiffly.

"I will not fail again," he promised her, and himself, and held her gaze, wanting Margaret Greene to acknowledge it.

After a moment she tore her eyes away and cleared her throat.

"I’ve got work to do," she excused herself quietly and stepped away. She turned in the next second and headed gracefully away.

Carlos watched her go in confusion and lingering anger and then turned and walked out of his family’s hall with another frown. If there was anything more infuriating than gringos and their ways, it was women and theirs.

The End