by Mimi Milan
A shout from the dining room snapped him out of his reverie. He scurried out of the kitchen only to find his worst nightmare standing in the opened entrance. He composed himself, standing as tall as possible.
“My dear Nacho!” Madame Bonheur oozed false pleasantries. “I must say, you would do well to teach your new… friend… how to greet paying customers. Never have I felt so unwelcomed.”
“Good afternoon, Madame Bonheur.” Nacho gave her a courteous nod. He glanced over at Josefina to find her standing there with one hand on the doorknob and the other formed into a tight fist planted firmly on her hip. A menacing scowl marred her pretty face as she refused to let the Madame enter. Nacho couldn’t blame her, but knew he had to appease the old bird if he was ever going to have any peace in his life. “I’m sorry you have felt unwelcomed, Señora. However, Ms. Zapatero is correct in stating that we are closed today. I’m sure you understand. After all, it is Christmas.”
“That’s precisely why I’ve come!” The woman pushed past the infuriated Josefina and rushed up to Nacho, her face the look of feigned concern. “Why, if I recall correctly, it was this time last year that our dear Colette passed. Isn’t that right?”
Nacho looked up at Josefina to find she had stilled, her formerly passionate countenance now an expressionless one. He swallowed hard and turned back to Madame Bonheur. “Señora, I believe you are gravely mistaken.”
“Mistaken?” The woman let out a chilling laugh. “Dear, how could you have possibly forgotten your poor wife? I most certainly haven’t. After all, it was I whom you stole her from. Remember?”
At the sound of the word “wife,” the other two women had expressed their shock. However, the only one that really registered was Josefina’s cry of indignation. This time Nacho refused to look at her, though. Instead, he stared down Madame Bonheur. He bit back a growl rumbling dangerously from the back of his throat. “What I meant, Señora, is that you are mistaken regarding when she passed. It has been two long years now. Therefore, your concern is not needed.”
The woman waved away his words. “Oh, my heavens. For me to forget when it occurred. I suppose that must be a sign of old age setting in, or perhaps the sadness of the season. After all, she was such a joy to us all. I know you certainly enjoyed her. Yes, Nacho?”
It didn’t go unnoticed by any of them how Madame Bonheur stressed the word “enjoy” and he noted the wicked gleam that shone in the woman’s eyes.
“Yes, well, now there will be reason to rejoice once again. No?” Josefina slammed the door shut and strode to Nacho’s side. She gave the woman a look of superiority and then nodded at him. “Didn’t your letter say something about owning a guitar?”
A corner of Nacho’s mouth turned up. “Yes.”
“Well, hombre? Do you still have it?”
“Claro. I store it under the bed.”
“Antos, traelo. You promised me a song. Remember?”
“It’s been a minute since I’ve played, but if you will grab the pot and serve up the frijoles then I will go tune the guitar. De acuerdo?”
“Agreed.”
She hurried off towards the kitchen. Once she disappeared, Nacho gave Madame Bonheur his undivided attention again. Ignoring the curious looks from his other customers, he leaned close to her and lowered his voice. “Señora, I will remind you kindly that this is not La Maison. This is my place of business. You are more than welcomed to stay provided you remember that.”
The woman’s lips curved into a nasty smirk. “Of course, Señor Villanueva.”
She saw herself to a table just as Josefina returned with the frijoles. “Where is the guitar?”
“I’m getting it right now,” he said and disappeared from the room.
Josefina made her way to the first table. She set down a plate of bread and then dished out a hearty spoonful of beans onto Doctor Deane’s plate.
“I’ve heard tell that you are an incredible dancer,” he said.
Josefina had the decency to remain humble. “I suppose I know a step or two.”
“She’s just being modest,” Penny spoke up from across the way. She looked very proud. “I’ve seen her when she’s thought no one was looking. She’s quite spirited.”
“Qué preciosa. You are too kind.” Josefina beamed at her as she finished serving the doctor. “We are out of eggs, but I’m sure you’ll love our beans. They were made special today.”
“Thank you,” he said. “They certainly smell enticing.”
Josefina only nodded and moved on to Penny. She spoke quietly. “Hey, chica. I’m going to give you some of these beans, but I’m not so sure you’re going to like them.”
“Why not?”
“I had a little accident and poured a bunch of sugar in the pot.”
Penny’s eyes grew wide. “If I had followed through on my promise to teach you how to cook—”
“Nena, don’t worry yourself. I wasn’t trying to say you’re to blame. I was just warning you so you don’t get the… well, you know…” Josefina motioned to her stomach, “chorro.”
A look of confusion crossed her friend’s face and then her eyes widened once more. “Oh.” She looked at the doctor already eating his meal. “Oh, no.”
“Don’t worry. I gave him a bunch of bread. Now I have to serve la dragona.”
The words “dragon lady” made Penny laughed. However, she quickly quieted when she saw the Madame raise a questioning brow her way. “You’re bad, Fina.”
“Only sometimes,” her friend stated matter-of-fact and then made her way to the dreadful woman sitting at a dark corner table. Josefina could only imagine how the woman enjoyed sitting there, the dim shadows providing her coverage so she could better study the rest of them. She approached the woman and plopped the pot of beans down on the table.
“Buen provecho,” she said with an eager grin.
“Excusez moi?”
“Oh, there’s no need. I have more class than that.”
“No need for what?” the Madame snapped, her French accent sliding into something a little more familiar – similar to that which Josefina had heard the night before when the woman argued with Genevieve and the Reverend.
“There’s no need to beg,” Josefina explained. “I forgive you.”
The Madame’s teeth could be heard grinding inside her head. “I wasn’t asking for your forgiveness. I don’t need it. What is the meaning of this?”
The woman pointed to the pot.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. You are right. It is I who must ask your forgiveness. You see, I have been so busy with my… how do you say? Prometido? That’s right. Fiancé. But you already know that seeing as it is as French as are you.” Josefina gave her a challenging glare.
“Get to the point,” Madame Bonheur barked.
“Well, as I was saying, we have been so incredibly busy that I didn’t have time to wash all the plates. Seeing as they are all dirty, this is all we can offer you at the time.”
Madame Bonheur’s glare slowly changed into a look of amusement. She shrugged. “Well, it is to be expected. Not all women can be as… capable… as was our lovely Colette.”
Josefina’s hand began to raise and she would have surely brought it squarely down on the wicked hag if Nacho hadn’t walked through the door right then. She quickly spun towards him. “Please move the table and benches back and begin playing – something with a nice rise and fall that starts slow, builds and then ends dramatically. Can you do that?”
Nacho’s mouth hung open with surprise. He slapped it shut. “I think so.”
“Good. You do all that and I’ll be right back. Don’t wait for me, though. Just start playing.”
He nodded and she rushed back into the kitchen where he had hung her coat. She quickly tied the revolso around her waist, the embroidered shawl seductively hanging from her round hips. Then, digging into one of the coat’s pockets, she pulled out a pair of castanets. She had just positioned the concave wooden shells in her hand, anchoring them into her palms with s
tring tied around each middle finger, when she heard the strumming of Nacho’s guitar. Head downward as if studying the floor, she slowly pushed through the door. She dragged one foot forward and then slapped it down. She repeated the movement with the other foot – each stomp keeping with the slow rhythm of the guitar. Then she dramatically looked up at the audience, captive in their seats. She turned sharply. Back facing them, Josefina slowly arched backwards, her arms sweeping over her head. She began snapping the castanets, shimmying her shoulders as she slowly straightened up again, her feet keeping with the same rhythm while she swung her hips from one side to the other. She performed several pirouettes, spinning around the room, never missing a beat.
Nacho watched, gripping desire growing with every move she made. The flick of her hand, snap of her skirt… He could hardly remember what he was playing – only that the Mexican ballad was not one normally paired with the flamenco. Yet she perfectly matched her movements to the music. Not that he knew much about the dance nor the level of difficulty involved. It was quite unlike the traditional Mexican dances like the Jarabe, and certainly much different from the ritualistic ones like the Concheros. It was similar and yet unique both at the same time – a fact he first realized when he had seen it during his travel from Texas. It could be mistaken for no other, and even Fina’s stylistic flare was quite similar to the woman who…
The memory that flashed through his mind distracted him and then several things happened all at once. His fingers fumbled over the strings, missing several notes. Doctor Deane checked his watch. Madame Bonheur signaled for Penny. The woman stood to attend her and…
Josefina fell forward.
She didn’t dare catch herself with her hands and risk cracking the precious castanets. Despite the bad blood that had existed between mother and daughter, they were the only things she had left to remember the woman by. Besides, good castanets were hard to come by. So as swiftly as she could, she drew her leg in close to her body, hoping to land on her foot. Unfortunately, the landing wasn’t at all solid. The heel of her black leather shoe slid, twisting her foot sideways.
“Ow!” Josefina cried out and landed with a thud. “My foot.”
Ignacio jumped up, but the guitar slowed him down and Doctor Deane arrived at Josefina’s side first. “Let me take a look at that.”
Carefully feeling along the bones of her foot, he asked her to move her foot side to side and then to flex them. She groaned in agony.
“Is she all right?” Nacho asked, his voice laced with concern.
“She’ll be fine. It’s just a sprain,” the doctor said. He gave Josefina a stern shake of his finger. “Although, no more dancing for you, miss.”
Josefina gasped. “No more dancing?”
“Not for the next few days at least,” he clarified. “You need to remain off this foot if you wish it to heal properly. Once it does, you should be good as new.”
“Is there anything I can do to help it heal faster?” she asked as both the doctor and Ignacio helped her stand.
“Well, a little snow wouldn’t hurt,” Doctor Deane said as he released her into Nacho’s capable arms. “It would help take the swelling down a lot faster.”
“I’ll go get some,” Penny offered. The woman’s eyes glossed over and she hung her head with a distraught lament. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Penny, you don’t think—”
The “bad luck bride” didn’t wait to hear Josefina out. Instead, she abruptly raced out of the restaurant in search of the promised snow.
“Perhaps I should talk to her,” Doctor Deane offered. He dug around in one of his pockets and pulled out a few dollars. “I was about to head out anyway. Thanks for letting me in on your day off. I believe this should cover the bill.”
Nacho waved his hand away. “I couldn’t possibly take your money. For the assistance you offered, such simple fare is hardly enough to repay you.”
“Alright,” Doctor Deane agreed. “Will you be on regular hours tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then save my seat,” the doctor said and tipped his hat at Josefina. “It was a lovely dance, by the way. Stay off that foot and get plenty of rest so we can catch another performance soon.”
Josefina bowed graciously. “With more time to prepare, I promise it will be spectacular.”
The doctor bid farewell as Penny entered again. He tried to speak to her, but she rushed right past him. Softened snow ran down her reddened hands and dripped water all over the floor. “I got the snow.”
“I’ll get a cloth,” Nacho said. He helped Josefina sit in one of the chairs and made his way towards the kitchen. The door had barely swung closed when he reappeared holding a servieta normally reserved to keep the tortillas warm. Penny placed the melting mess onto the scarf and he bent low to place it on Josefina’s ankle.
“How does that feel?”
“A little better.”
“Good. Let’s give it a few minutes and then I’ll help get you in bed.”
A cry of surprise sounded from the dark corner where Madame Bonheur still sat, an unassuming mask painting her face. “My dear Nacho, do you really think that wise? It could possibly set every tongue in town wagging – making her no better than Colette. Not that anyone could ever compare to our departed darling. Oui?”
“No, I suppose you’re right in some small sense.” Nacho turned to the woman who was quickly capturing his heart. “I’ll go fetch your coat as well as make a little something for you to eat once you’ve returned to La Maison.”
He once again left the room, leaving the three women to weigh one another. Penny still looked remorseful that yet another day of bad dealings had followed her. She separated herself as far as possible from Josefina for fear that she’d bring her friend more bad luck.
Madame Bonheur, on the other hand, looked much happier than she did the evening before. Gone was la dragona who had threatened the Reverend and Genevieve Walters. A new target in sight, she turned a sickly-sweet smile onto Josefina.
“You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t wait to see you safely to my home. I have other matters to attend to. Speaking of which,” she motioned to the pot of food still sitting on the table, “I am providing just as valuable a service as the good doctor. I’ll not pay for such a miserable meal after being run out of my own dwelling. Now I must be off, but I did want to wish you luck, Mademoiselle.”
Josefina held her head high. “Gracias, but I don’t need any.”
“Oh, I most certainly think you do. You see, I remember several years back that Liam Fulton had a ribbon very similar to that one in his store. I remembered it because I thought it was such a peculiar color and he must have traded the Utes for it.” The Madame contemplated the idea and mumbled, “or perhaps he traded with Storm who usually trades with them?” She waved the idea away. “Well, it isn’t important how it appeared in the store. What is important was how I wanted to buy it, but Liam refused to sell to me since it was already promised to another. So, it disappeared and I never saw it again… until now.”
Why is this woman telling me all this?
Josefina rolled her eyes. “What is your point? You want my ribbon?”
A terrific smirk turned up the corners of Madame’s mouth. “Really, girl, can you be so naive to not realize you’re wearing a secondhand gift? Can you be so silly to not see that it belonged to another?”
The suggestion turned Josefina’s blood as cold as the snow on her ankle. Could it be true? Had Nacho given her a gift that belonged to his deceased wife? A wife, by the way, he never even mentioned existed?
The sound of the front door snapping shut brought her back to the reality that she was sitting in the middle of a diner, nothing more than a damaged dancer who had become the understudy of a deceased wife.
Chapter 4
Nacho solemnly climbed back into his wagon, still disturbed by how quiet Josefina had been on the return ride to La Maison. At first, he thought it must have been due to t
he injury. She was obviously upset from the pain and didn’t wish to speak. However, then they arrived at the cathouse and he saw the way she greeted the other brides – especially the gypsy woman, Kezia, and her infant daughter. The way Josefina showered the child with besitos softened his heart, but confused him further as to why she acted so coldly towards him when he returned from the kitchen with her coat.
Not to mention the rest of the afternoon!
She had been sullen at best.
He slapped the reigns once again. What in the world could he have done to earn her disapproval? If there was anyone who should have felt slighted, it was him. A sneaking suspicion made him question if she was being completely forthright with him about her past.
What are you talking about, old man? You don’t know what her past is! All you know is that she is a woman who enjoys dancing and cooking and is interested in a husband who likes the same.
He shook his head. Who was he to question anyone anyway? It wasn’t like he was the model example of complete candidacy himself. Not that he had lied or anything. Surely, hearing that there was a deceased wife was a surprise for his intended.
That’s it!
Nacho slapped his forehead. How could he be so dense? She was upset because he had been married before. Not that he could completely understand why it would bother her. She had taken it with stride when Madame Bonheur mentioned it. In fact, she even boasted about there being joy in Nacho’s life once again. Perhaps she had only been pretending it didn’t bother her, and now she expected something to show his devotion to her. Yes, that must be it!
He rode past the diner, deciding it would be best to keep the horses in the livery for the time being. The snowstorm may have blown over, but the weather was still biting cold. He arrived at the building a few minutes later and dismounted.
“Hola, amigo!” he greeted Culver Daniels. At more than six feet, Culver towered over Nacho (as well as most others in town). Still, he had to be one of the friendliest men Nacho ever met. “I’m glad I caught you. I was hoping I could put Jose and Maria up for the night. It’s cold out there. Plus, Jose broke free from his post again.”