“You don’t have a good look. You have a look like you don’t think you could do it.”

Maria looked at Juana. She hadn’t changed. She was still a child and this confounded Maria. “Where have you been?”
“Oh, here and there.” She took a drink of water and regarded Maria. “You got big.” She pointed with a piece of tortilla. “Your tetas are muy grande.”
Maria looked down at her breasts.
“What are you going to do now that they are dead?”
“I don’t know.” She didn’t like the casual way Juana was speaking of the old people.
Juana looked around the room. “This is nice. You could take over what they were doing for the church, get a man and raise a family here.”
Maria became angry. It was a mean and insensitive thing to say and Juana seemed to sense it.
“Mind you, that’s not what I’d do.”
“Oh, what would you do?”
“I’d go track those bandits down and cut off their cojones and make them eat them with a plate of beans.” She was pleased with that thought. “Beans with beans.” She smiled at Maria and then looked at her a little seriously. “Oh, you don’t think you could do it?”
“I didn’t say I couldn’t do it.”
“You don’t have a good look. You have a look like you don’t think you could do it.”
“I could do it.”
“Then do it.” Juana stood up and brushed the crumbs from her lap. She kicked the crumbs far under the table out of sight. Maria looked at what she was doing, then at the clock on the mantle, then back at Juana. The girl was gone. Maria's Trail