by Mimi Milan
Would she do that, Nacho wondered. Sure, it was possible. Orvis was technically right. They hadn’t exchanged vows yet. However, they was an existing agreement. He would protect her and provide for her. In exchange, she would help him around the restaurant. He looked around the kitchen, taking in quick inventory. The pileta was piled high with dirty dishes, as was the counter space beside it. The table used to prepare food was littered with scraps and had dried, caked flour glued into the wood grain. The floors looked like they hadn’t been swept in a good solid week. Nacho let out a tired sigh.
“Maybe you’re right,” he finally admitted to his friend. “Maybe I should clean up a little before bringing her back. You go on and see your gal.”
“You sure? I could always stick around and sweep or something.”
“No, no. Don’t worry about it. I know you need to get up to the mine with the rest of the guys. Plus, you’ve got that stop to make at La Maison. Thanks for helping clear the tables, though.”
“Well, alright then. If you think you’re good. Just don’t take too long now. You don’t want to keep your lady friend awaiting with the likes of Elmer Copperpot hanging around these parts. Man’s about as low as a snake’s belly in a wagon rut.”
“Eso es,” Nacho agreed and picked up a wash cloth. He once again thought about Elmer and the duped foreigner. “Truer words were never spoken, my friend.”
* * *
“Maybe he’s never coming,” Maybelle sneered. “That would make two grooms that have run off.”
The girl gave Felicity a haughty look before turning to Josefina to do the same. If ever there was a name Josefina wanted to sacrifice to La Muerte… well, she would never actually do something like that. Oooh, but that Maybelle sure could tempt los santos themselves – and all the rest of Heaven, too!
“I don’t think that’s much of a problem anymore,” Josefina smirked. She gave Felicity a wink, knowing that the girl seemed to have found a new interest… or that interest had found her. It looked like she was about to become a bride after all. Wouldn’t that make for a nice Christmas? Not that the holiday meant much to her anyway. It was nice and all, but she preferred to celebrate El Día de Reyes – the day when the three wise men actually brought gifts to the Christ child. It was a long-time pass since she had truly celebrated the holiday, though. All the way back to when she and her sister…
Josefina let out a sigh.
“You okay?”
She looked up into the concerned eyes of Avis, a bride equally private as herself but certainly much more reserved. “Sí, amiga. I’m fine,” she gave the girl a broad smile, “especially after the recipes you gave me last night.
Disappointed that Mr. Villanueva had failed to show up the evening before, Josefina moped around La Maison until Avis decided to comfort her. The two of them ended up discussing some of Avis’s favorite recipes late into the night. Josefina was confident she could pull off the fried chicken recipe the woman shared with her, or maybe even the oatmeal cookies.
If there was ever an occasion to do so! Here it was midmorning on Christmas day and still no sign of—
“Fina!” A call from downstairs came. Josefina quickly jumped off the bed she shared with Cara and raced past quiet Meizhen, only to slow at the top of the stairs. Penelope Jackson (the bride that seemed to have bad luck following her everywhere) stood at the bottom, calling up. “There’s a certain gentleman here waiting to meet you. Would you like me to offer him some coffee or tea until you come down?”
“No!” Josefina quickly replied. The woman’s expression fell. “What I meant to say is thank you, Penny. I would like to do that myself – if you don’t mind. You know, to show that I have some sense of hospitality and will make a good hostess for his restaurant.”
Penny visibly brightened. “Oh, that makes sense! Okay. I’ll just tell him to wait in the parlor.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right down.”
Josefina raced back into the room.
“You better hurry up, or you might not have a groom left. Not with that one around,” Maybelle jeered.
Josefina checked her reflection in a small mirror affixed to a vanity table. She straightened her revolso, ensuring the shawl covered her shoulders with her braid neatly hanging over one side. Satisfied that everything was in place, she turned and headed out of the room, pausing long enough to snap, “I’m sure that would just break your heart.”
She didn’t wait for a reply. Rushing down the stairs, she nearly barreled into a man standing nearby. She tripped, falling headfirst into him.
“Oh, how clumsy of me! I’m so sorry,” she gushed. Burning with embarrassment, she could hardly bring herself to look at the man as he straightened her up. His hands lingered on her arms, but she could only stare at her feet. “I swear, I never fall.”
“Yeah, that’s my job,” Penny muttered and then groaned. “Which is probably why it happened. My bad luck must be spreading.”
“Nonsense, Chiquita. Remember what I told you,” Josefina said. She had already given the woman a prayer card with La Virgen on one side and a sincere prayer on the other. She was positive the girl’s fortune was sure to turn around soon.
A smiling Penny nodded and excused herself.
“I’m glad to see how kind you are to your friends,” the man spoke. “It gives me great hope you will treat our customers accordingly.”
Our customers?
Josefina slowly looked up. This could not be the Ignacio Villanueva who had written to her. Where an old, squat Mexican cook should have stood was in his place a sun-kissed man with long, sweeping lashes covering eyes the color of graying skies over sea green oceans. A good head and a half taller than her, he was broad-shouldered and with a firm chin and equally strong hands.
Hands that were still holding her after the near-fall.
Josefina quickly straightened up and his arms fell to his side. A coy smile tugged at her lips. “I’m sorry. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, señor.”
“Yes, of course, you are right. How rude of me. Ignacio Villanueva, at your service.” This time he offered his hand, but when she took it, he quickly turned hers over and brought it to his lips. His full lips brushed her knuckles with a gentle kiss and her breath caught. “But you may call me Nacho, señorita.”
And you can call me anything you want… so long as you call me!
A voice cleared from behind her and she spied the matchmaker from the corner of her eye. Josefina snuffed out any idea of acting overly flirtatious with her intended groom. “Oh, Mrs. Walters. I didn’t know you were here. Please, allow me to introduce Mr. Villanueva.”
“A pleasure,” Nacho said. The matchmaker excused herself, leaving them to get better acquainted. “And you must be Señorita Morales.”
“No, actually. I mean, yes. It is all my name – Morales de Zapatero. However, if you are only going to rely on one, then it would be Zapatero.”
Nacho looked confused. “You go by your mother’s surname?”
“No. It belongs to my father.”
“How strange.”
Josefina bristled. Did he just call her… strange? She kept her temper in check, but couldn’t refrain from tilting her pretty nose up. “I suppose no stranger than the name Villanueva being one of ‘protection and prosperity.’ Isn’t that what you wrote in your letter?” she challenged.
“It is a name protection and prosperity,” he insisted. Then he gave her a sheepish smile. “Just maybe not so much in the town of Noelle… yet. It will be, though. Soon, I will be as successful as all my brothers.”
“Ah, so your brothers all know how to cook?”
“My brothers? Oh, no, señorita. They do not own restaurants. They are ranchers. In fact, they own one of the largest spreads in Texas.”
So, he came from a wealthy family. That was something. Still, it didn’t answer the question…
“Then it was your mother who taught you how to cook?”
Nacho hesitated. “Well, not exac
tly. You see, my mother was an excellent cook – that is where I got my passion for food. But my father? He thought I should be out learning how to do everything my brothers were learning. You know, to run the ranch so we would be prepared for when he passed it on to us. So, I didn’t get to spend as much time as I would have liked in the kitchen.”
Josefina contemplated what he revealed. Perhaps she wouldn’t need to rely on any of the other women to teach her how to cook. If she could convince him to make a meal for her…
“Señor, I have to be honest. I understand the desire to want to do something. But to do it well? That takes practice. Sometimes many years.”
She was thinking about her talents as a dancer. It wasn’t something she learned overnight, but trained most her life to perfect – just as her mother before her and her grandmother before that. Of course, she couldn’t reveal to him she was little more than a dancing girl.
A soiled one no less.
“Are you questioning my skills as a cook?” Nacho asked. He crossed his arms and took a stance that much reminded her of her own father. Full of bravado before he was certain to lose an argument. She smiled sweetly. The man was playing right into her plan.
“I don’t mean to offend you, Señor Villanueva. However, you were the one who called me strange. Remember? I am just trying to point out that it is equally peculiar that a person should know how to cook – or even run a restaurant – when they had no one to learn these things from.”
“I… Well…” Nacho struggled to formulate a logical response. He threw his hands up in surrender. An amused chuckle escaped. “Oye. Let’s get something straight first, okay? Because I think maybe we are having a little misunderstanding. I was not calling you strange, amor. I would never do that. Before all else, I am a gentleman. So, I don’t call beautiful women strange. Entiendes? I was simply trying to understand why your parents switched your name around. I mean, you have to admit… that is not very common in our culture. Yes?”
He was waiting for a response, but she was still stuck on the fact that he had called her “beautiful” and “amor” along with the way he said those words. They held such conviction. No, Mr. Villanueva was nothing like the men she had entertained in Hank’s saloon. Those men had been little more than demeaning animals. But this man? She couldn’t even begin to imagine what life would be like to a man who spoke kindly to her. She couldn’t even look to her own parents as an example of a good marriage. All the two had ever done was fight due to a combination of her father’s lofty demands and her mother’s stubbornness – a trait Josefina was guilty of herself. However, it certainly wasn’t the way she wanted to present herself to her future husband.
She finally found her voice. “You are right. I am being difficult. You have my sincerest apologies.”
Nacho waved away her confession. “It is okay. I too am nervous, señorita.”
“Please, call me Josefina… or even Fina, if you’d prefer. I have gone by that for some time now.”
“It is easy to see why. You are easily the finest woman I’ve ever had the privilege to meet.”
Heat rushed to Josefina’s cheeks. She modestly hung her head. “Señor Villanueva—”
“Please, call me Nacho.” He placed a finger under her chin, encouraging her to look at him. “That is the best way to start things, no?”
“Yes, of course.” Josefina nodded her agreement, but her excitement was short-lived.
“First names and fine food,” Nacho continued.
“Fine food?”
“At Nacho’s Tacos,” he explained. “I closed the restaurant early so we could spend a little time together. It is Christmas, after all. I figured most everyone would be with their families, celebrating the holiday. We can do the same over at the diner.”
“You celebrate Christmas?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
“Not really,” she admitted. “Our day to celebrate the Christ child was El Día de Reyes on the sixth of every January.”
“Ah, yes. Three Kings Day. We did that as well,” Nacho explained. “You see, my father was Mexican. Hence, the last name ‘Villanueva.’ However, my mother was American.”
She was surprised. “Your father married a white woman? Surely, her family protested.”
“Well, they weren’t too pleased from what I was told. However, they began to change their minds once the grandchildren started coming. Besides, my father was not the kind of man to be slighted. He worked hard, procured a lot of land and proved himself worthy by running one of the finest ranches in southern Texas… and that is what we are going to do.”
“We are?”
Smiling, Nacho reached out and took hold of her hands. His eyes grew soft as he cradled them; his voice was a whisper. “Yes. The town of Noelle will know our restaurant to be the finest around when we prove ourselves to them. That is, of course, after we prove ourselves to each other. Sí?”
Prove themselves to each other? Oh, no. He expected her to cook… NOW. What could she possibly say to stall the inevitable moment of standing in his kitchen, trying to command a cast iron stove?
Standing in his kitchen? That’s it!
Smiling, she politely pulled her hands from his and ignored the bereft feeling of his missing warmth. “Nacho, I cannot think of anything better that I would like to do than accompany you. However, you must understand that my reputation is at stake. It simply wouldn’t be proper for the two of us to be alone in your restaurant.”
Nacho sighed. “Of course, you are right. How foolish of me to even consider asking you to risk such a thing. We do not want the town to talk badly of you. That would be terrible for business.”
She bit the inside of her lip, slightly irritated that he seemed more concerned about making his restaurant successful than he did for her good name. Not that she had much of one outside the town of Noelle anyway. Still, that wasn’t something he knew anything about.
“I could go with you,” a small voice offered.
Josefina twisted around to find Penny standing at the parlor entrance.
Oh, of all the people!
“That would be most kind of you, Señorita… I’m sorry. What is your name?”
“Penelope. Her name is Ms. Penelope Jackson,” Josefina offered flatly. She had a good mind to remind the woman that there was a reason for the nickname “Bad Luck Penny.” Not that she really thought the woman brought bad luck, but it was awfully unlucky that she would offer a way to leave right when Josefina was trying to avoid Nacho’s restaurant.
“Señora Jackson, thank you so kindly. Fina and I are most appreciative of your gracious offer.”
“Yes,” Josefina found the urge to let out a long, frustrated sigh. Instead, she pasted on a smile. Although even she could feel that it died before reaching her eyes. “We’re so pleased you’ll be joining us for lunch. However, I forgot to mention that I must also watch Kezia’s child this afternoon, little Jem. That way she can spend a little quality time with her beau. So, you understand why I must keep my word.”
“I would never want you to break a promise. You have my word that I will have you back well before then.”
“Very well,” Josefina agreed. She turned to Penny who stood by, wringing her hands. “If you’ll excuse us while we get our coats.”
“Yes, good idea! I’ll go prepare the wagon while you ladies get ready to go.”
The two women watched him leave. As soon as the front door shut, Josefina whirled back to Penny. “Perdiste la mente? What were you thinking?!”
“I really didn’t mean any harm,” the woman bumbled. “I thought I was helping.”
Josefina buried her head in her hands and moaned. “I know. It is I who should be sorry, Penny. It’s not your fault I don’t know how to cook.”
“You don’t know how to cook?” Penny asked.
“No,” Josefina admitted. She grew serious, hardening a little. “And you’re the only one I’ve told. So, you better not go spreading it around. Sale?”
&n
bsp; “I would never,” Penny promised. She crossed her heart. “Your secret is safe with me and – if you’d like – I’d even be happy to show you what I know when we get to the restaurant.”
Josefina brightened, but quickly deflated again. It was Penny, after all. Bad luck seemed to follow her like stench on dead fish. “You still got that card I gave you?”
The woman nodded.
“You’ve been reciting the prayer on it?”
Penny hesitated. “A few times.”
“Well, let’s hope a few is good enough. Go grab your coat.”
The woman did as requested. Josefina reached for the doorknob, but then stopped. “Wait a minute,” she said. She turned Penny around. From forehead to navel and then horizontal, she crossed the girl. Then she spat over each shoulder.
“What in the world are you doing?” Penny questioned, a look of disgust crossing her face.
“Making sure the Devil doesn’t follow. Now let’s go, Chiquita. We’ve got a meal to make!”
Chapter 3
“It’s wonderful that you have a wagon,” Josefina said as they pulled up to the front of the restaurant.
“Thank you,” Nacho replied and flared his chest.
Asi es, papacito. That’s how you win the lady!
He dismounted and rushed around to her side to offer his hand. Josefina accepted it and carefully placed her foot on the wagon wheel.
“The horses are nice too,” Penny chimed in.
No sooner had the words left her mouth, Josefina’s foot slipped off the icy wheel. She tumbled forward, head first and with such surprise she didn’t even have time to scream. Still, Nacho was quick to act. He swiftly wrapped his arms around her, bearing all her weight. They landed in the cold snow with a solid THUD! Nacho groaned.
“Ay, perdóname.” Josefina tried to push herself up, but her foot slipped and she once again fell on him. Tears flooded her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”