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arm, and I was so distracted by the bad news about work that I accepted it. We stepped back out into the heat and sand and sunshine of the street.
    The Haciendo swept a brisk look at Mr. Connelly. “Fetch the carriage.”
    Mr. Connelly turned me a quick glare before stomping off, leaving us in silence. The Haciendo cast his gaze out over the town and shook his head. “I am sorry. These are hard times for all of us.”
    I broke away, dizzy with the disappointment the day had become. “I should go.”
    “Go where?”
    “I apologize again for what happened in the refinery. If you’ll excuse me.”
    I turned to leave, but he gently gripped my arm. “Wait.” His eyes searched my face. I could see thoughts flickering behind them, but then a casual smile passed over his lips.
    “You know,” he finally said, “I think perhaps I do have a job for you. If you will take it.”
    I opened my mouth to chastise him again, but he set a preemptive hand on mine. “A most respectable one, I assure you. Complete with room and board.”
    “What kind of job? You said there were none.”
    “I’m creating a new one,” he said with a smooth smile. “As you may be aware, The Desert Rose is, in fact, an establishment for food and drink. That is its primary purpose. We work our bartender too hard, and I’ve long wondered if we didn’t need a hostess of sorts. Someone to serve drinks when needed, bring out food, clean a little. It’s honest work. And I promise you double what any other job might pay.”
    “Why would you offer this to me? Do you think I’ll give in after a while and become one of your other employees? Well, I won’t. Never . I can tell you that right now.”
    The Haciendo smiled. “I believe you.”
    “Then why?”
    “You have spirit,” he said. “A quality I greatly admire.”
    His smile remained, but I noticed the faintest twitch in his gaze. There was more, something he wasn’t saying.
    I started to refuse, but something held me back. The offer was tempting. Honest work at double the wage I could earn anywhere else? If I could even get a job anywhere else.
    But looking again at the Haciendo, I hesitated. I barely knew him. How could I trust him? Besides, I didn’t like his employee, Mr. Connelly. Taking the offer was out of the question.
    “I’m sorry. I’m not the kind of girl you’re looking for.”
    He analyzed me, a smile curling the side of his mouth, then pulled a large ring from his coat pocket and slid it onto his pointer finger. My breath caught, and a hint of that same, strange heaviness of earth magic tugged inside me. Dryad bone could be polished spring green like that, but it wasn’t usually found in these parts. It must have been purchased from a costly foreign market.
    The Haciendo dug a small seed out of the pocket of his red silk vest and held his ringed hand over it. On the palm of his hand, it trembled, then burst into a green coil. The coil stretched until a rose blossomed there in his hand. A desert rose. He smelled it, then tucked the stem in the hair above my ear so smoothly that I didn’t have time to stop him.
    “If you change your mind, do let me know.”
    It was a trick he’d doubtless charmed many girls with; he probably kept the seeds and ring in his pocket for just such a thing. But even still, color rushed into my cheeks. Noticing this, the young Haciendo flashed an easy smile.
    At that moment, Mr. Connelly arrived with the carriage. The Haciendo stepped inside. “By the way, I don’t believe I ever told you my name. How rude of me. I am Álvar Castilla.”
    He tapped his fist once on the inner wall of the coach, and the carriage drove off in a cloud of dust and sand.

    I spent the entire day scouring Burning Mesa for a job. But again and again, I was turned back out on the streets with the same answer: no work.
    When I dragged myself back to St. Ignacio’s that night, Ella was already lying in bed, her back turned to me. She’d hardly spoken to me in the last