by Mimi Milan
I never realized how big Nacho’s feet are, she thought as she placed her own foot beside a larger print heading in the same direction as hers, back towards the front steps. She made her way up them, again stopping.
She had purposely left the door wide open for a little light to illuminate the porch, but now her mind played tricks on her, casting shadows where she knew they could not be.
“No seas sonsa,” she chided herself. “You’re the only one here, silly.”
In a show of false bravado, she puffed up her chest – not that it was all noticeable beneath the blanket. However, it did give her a small measure of courage. Gripping the bucket and blanket in one hand, and the lamp in the other, she entered the house and slammed the door.
“You might as well come out right now,” she demanded and raised the lantern high above her head. “I have no problem setting this place ablaze with both of us in it.”
Only the crackling of the fire in the stone hearth answered her. She shook her head, mumbling. “I’m losing my mind.”
Walking towards the fireplace, she set the lamp on the mantle and stoked the embers, deciding to add another log since the fire in the wood burning stove had already died out. She looked around, deciding that the fireplace would provide enough light and the lantern would provide what she needed upstairs.
The wood on the second step creaked as she made her way towards the bedrooms, as did the landing once she reached the top. Choosing the room closest to her, she veered left and smiled at the fact that much of the room was bathed in moonlight. She set the lamp down and examined the few belongings that were there – a bed, dresser and wash stand with bowl and pitcher. She quickly lost interest in them and turned to leave when a white gleam caught the corner of her eye. It was a white cotton sheet draped over something large and rectangular. She walked over and slowly pulled the cover off. Awestruck by its revelation, she dropped the fabric to the ground and reverently ran her hand over a large painting with a gold frame. A young, thick braided woman wearing traditional Mexican garb heading out of the market place, smiling at the bounty she carried in her arms.
Josefina tapped the frame with her nails, the metal clinking under her touch. She pulled it, revealing yet another painting behind it and another after that. Happy families, Aztecan gods, la Virgen de Guadalupe. They all went about their usual endeavors, unaware or uncaring of being observed by the outside world. There was even a painting of a beautiful hacienda – the workers in the field reminding her very much of her grandmother’s village so many years ago.
She looked around the room – a hidden treasure trove of cultural gems.
“These should not be concealed in this dark, dusty room,” she complained to no one in particular and had scarcely decided that she would drag them out when she heard a noise from downstairs.
She leaned out into the hallway, the lamp raised above her head. “Is that you, Nacho?”
The sound of something scratching made her heart race.
It’s probably just the trees again, banging against the windows.
The clash of something metal sent her scurrying back into the room. She looked around in search of anything that could be used to fight off an intruder when she remembered Nacho’s mention of the rifle being upstairs “in one of the bedrooms.”
It was obviously not in this room, though. This one seemed like little more than storage. So, it must be the other room, she reasoned and made her way back to the door and peered around the threshold. Satisfied that no one had discovered her, she quietly tiptoed across the hall and into a room that made the bold declaration that a man had claimed the space. Discounting the heaps of clothes laying around the room and a smell that declared they were not the freshest to be found, she spotted the rifle hanging on a wall beside the bed. She yanked it from its resting place when a scuffling sound startled her. She screamed and whirled around, ready to pull the trigger on…
A raccoon!
The creature carried in its hand a shiny coin.
“Hey! Where did you find that?” She bent over to take it from him and he bared his teeth, hissing. She snatched her hand back, the fear of a rabid raccoon scaring her more than the idea of him making off with his plunder. Still, she was angry the little beast had given her such a fright. Refusing to kill it for what came natural, she stomped her foot and swatted at it with one end of the rifle. “Go on, you’ll not get anymore. Scat!”
She pushed the raccoon, growling and hissing as loud as she could. It raced out, back down the stairs and into the living room. Josefina circled around it, making her way to the door and opening it wide once she got there. “Go on or I really will shoot.”
She swatted at the raccoon yet again, finally coercing the thieving brute out the door. It ran along the porch, not in any great hurry to go anywhere. So, she lifted the rifle and aimed for the sky, the weapon making a terrific noise that scared both she and the raccoon. It jumped off the porch and raced away into the night.
“That’s what you get,” she yelled after it, throwing out empty threats. “Try to steal our gold again and you’ll make a fine stew! My husband can do it. He’s a cook!”
With the word “husband” still echoing in her ears, she straightened back up, the revelation surprising her that she had fully accepted their relationship… and for no other reason than the fact that she actually cared for Nacho. The thought sent a delicious shiver down her spine and she shut the door once again, resolute to complete her previous chore and have tidied the entire house before Ignacio returned.
* * *
Nacho looked up at the house, a warm glow casting a welcoming invitation. This was what he envisioned for himself when he thought about married life – a cozy home filled with cheer and laughter…
And good food, of course.
He thought about the bundle he carried in his arms, sure that the new recipe he tried would delight his Fina.
His Fina.
It hadn’t been the first time he thought about it, and he liked it a little more every time the idea ran across his mind. Her slip into the pond certainly scared the wits right out of him. In fact, he was surprised that he had even remembered to stay calm and take quick action. It also made him very aware of the fact that there were no guarantees in life. In part, he supposed he hesitated asking her outright to marry him as soon as they met because he wanted to win her affections… but also because the thought of marrying again unnerved him a little bit. No doubt, he wanted to do it. He just wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t make a repeat mistake.
Josefina is no Colette.
He nodded firmly. He would not keep dragging his feet on the matter. He was going to walk in and ask her right now, before anything else. He opened the door and confidently strode into the living room… and took in the splendor of all the work she completed in his absence.
“Nacho? Is that you?” she called.
He ambled over to the stairs and called up. “Si, it is I. I’ve returned as I promised with a meal to share, but now I wonder if it’s enough.”
Fina walked down the stairs, her face smudged with dirt. “Thank goodness. I’m starving.”
“It’s no wonder. Look at this place,” he said with astonishment. “I can’t believe you did all of this while I was away.”
“Do you like the paintings?” she asked, pointing up to one of the living room walls. “I thought that one looked nice there.”
Nacho studied La Virgen who in return smiled down on him.
“Yes, I always thought she belonged there, but Col—” his voice trailed off and he handed her the bundle of food he carried. “This is for you.”
“Thank you.” Josefina eagerly accepted it and sat in one of the chairs not far from the fireplace. “Nacho, I don’t want you to feel like you can never mention your past around me. We’ve talked about this before.”
He took the seat across from her. “I know, but I don’t really want to bring the past into the future.”
“I wish you would reco
nsider,” she said and unwrapped the bundle to reveal a tin plate filled with carnitas and tortillas. “I have so many questions.”
“You have questions about my previous marriage?”
“Ah… not so much. What I was wondering about were the paintings you have up in your room. They are beautiful!”
“Gracias. They belonged to my father.”
“See, that I would not have guessed. From the little you told me previously, I thought he was a very hard man. So, I would have guessed that it was your mother who had a hand in it all.”
“Well, she certainly shared her opinion about what she did and did not want hanging on her walls. However, all these paintings are ones that he had created – some of them even before he knew her.” Nacho looked up and pointed to the Virgen of Guadalupe. “Take this one for instance. He painted it for his own mother before he ever even married.”
“He actually painted them himself?” she asked, awestruck.
“Some of them. Others were commissioned or purchased outright.”
“Then maybe you got your creativity from him,” Fina reasoned. “He took to art like you take to cooking.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Nacho explained. “I think I may have gotten his determination, though. My father put away his paints once the ranch started growing. He always said that providing for a family required hard work and discipline. So, I try to apply that to what I do now and work as hard as I can at every meal I cook.”
“You certainly worked your magic this time,” Josefina said. “The food is incredible.”
“Not nearly as incredible as this place looks,” Nacho again complimented her. It’s wonderful to see everything went so well while I was gone.”
“Yes, I made sure of it – even if the strangest thing happened tonight.”
“What?” He asked, a look of concern crossing his face. “Qué cosa rara? Did you see any strangers?”
“Strangers? Why would I? You yourself said there was hardly anyone out this way – except that trapper for a neighbor and even that’s several miles away. I said the strangest thing happened.”
Nacho sighed. “Oh, okay. I guess I got a little nervous when you used that word “strange. Made me think about a conversation I had in town.”
Josefina stopped eating, her fork hovering in midair. “Why? What’s going on?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just some talk in town about these three men a few of the folks have seen. Thing is no one actually knows who they are or where they’re staying. So, it’s a little concerning – especially for someone like the sheriff.” A smiled crossed Nacho’s face. “Speaking of which… Did you know that he and Pearl were together?”
Josefina smiled. “I had a feeling they were keen on each other, but I didn’t know anything would actually come of it. Do you think they’ll get married one day?”
“One day?” Nacho let out a laugh. “I think that time’s already come and gone. I was just leaving the diner when I heard they exchanged vows earlier.”
“Really? That’s wonderful!”
“It is, but things are still moving too slowly. At this rate, the railroad might still decide to pass us by.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about that being the main reason the men in this town wanted to marry.”
“No,” Nacho insisted. “That isn’t true at all. Many of the men wanted to get married, but who could they possibly choose? It’s not like there is much choice in town. The Reverend’s plan was a sound one that served more than one purpose – and benefits everyone involved.”
She considered his words for a moment and agreed. The women had as much to gain out of the marriages as did the men and the town in general – especially if the rumors were true that the gold had nearly dried up.
Gold!
“Ignacio, I didn’t get to tell you what happened.”
Nacho threw another log onto the fire and stocked the embers below. “Oh, yes. My apologies for interrupting. What was this strange thing you saw?”
“A raccoon.”
Nacho laughed. “Ay, nena. That is not so strange.”
“Carrying a coin.”
“What do you mean he was carrying a coin?”
“Well, you see, I was in the bedroom with all the paintings… Really, those paintings shouldn’t be wasting away in a dark corner of a dusty house. They should be hanging in the diner. Wouldn’t that be a grand idea?”
“Yes, yes. We can do that. But what were you saying about the raccoon?”
“So, there was this noise. Ay, me dio miedo. I was literally shaking in my stockings. So, I grab the gun and I turn around and there he is – this nasty little animal, clutching the coin and hissing at me when I tried to take it from him.”
“You should not have tried to take it. He could have been rabid. What if he bit you?”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” she explained. “So, I shooed him away by pushing him with the butt of the rifle and stomping my feet. I even growled and hissed just like him.”
Nacho snorted. “Must have been some fright – seeing a grown woman turn into an animal.”
She squinted at him. “Señor, are you making fun of me again?”
“Again?” He feigned confusion. “What are you talking about? I have never made fun of you.”
“No? What about my sausage toes from earlier this evening... and let’s not forget my ‘backwards name.’”
He chuckled and reached out to lightly tug on her braid. “Perhaps I was teasing you a little. Perhaps you deserved it, though.”
Josefina stopped chewing. “Cómo?”
Nacho leaned forward again and picked at the pulled pork and gave her a nonchalant shrug. “You never did explain why your family name was turned around.”
She swallowed hard, the food feeling as if it had stopped somewhere in the middle of her chest. Her shoulders deflated along with her voice. “Oh, that. I suppose it is rather unheard of. You see, my mother left my father when my sister and I were very young. He was angry, of course. So, he decided to follow the same American practice of placing the paternal surname last. This was good for when we went out. Before, the name was so long and people would say ‘the Morales children.’ Afterwards, we were known as ‘the Zapatero girls.’”
A moment of silence passed between them before Nacho finally spoke. “Your mother left your father?”
She had hoped he wouldn’t think much about that part – especially since she swiftly brushed over the fact. “Yes, she did.”
“And she left you and your sister behind?”
“For a short time,” Josefina explained. “She came back a few years later and reclaimed me.”
“But not your sister?”
Eyes brimming with tears, Josefina busied herself with her food, carefully lining a tortilla with meat. She tried speaking, but the words caught in her throat. So, she only shook her head in response.
“That must have been very difficult. How old were you?”
She roughly swiped at her eyes and then looked up. “Eight when she left and fourteen when she returned.” She shrugged as if the facts didn’t at all bother her and took a bite of food.
Nacho looked at her strangely. “I understand you were very young when this all happened, but I don’t understand why you never went back. Didn’t you ever think to find your father and sister?”
“Of course, I did! Once I was old enough to be out on my own, I did just that. I went back to our hometown – straight up to our little house – and found it empty. I was frantic, roaming up and down the streets until I found a neighbor who told me that they were gone – moved to someplace that even she didn’t know… and she knew everything about everyone, because she was bien chismosa. That’s when I returned to Colorado. I mean, if the town gossip couldn’t even give me information, then what else could I do? I could not just sit there and starve. I had to eat, so I looked for whatever work I could find. Then I heard about the mail order brides and… aqui estoy.”
She
waved her arms around her and the plate nearly slid from her lap. She caught it quickly and placed it on the table before looking back up. The strange look on her face made her worry that she had revealed too much. She cleared her throat. “Trust me. If I had been in a position to do everything – take care of myself and look for my family – then I would have.”
He thought about what she said for a minute. “Is that what you’re trying to do now?”
The question made her blood run cold in her veins. “What?”
He leaned forward and stared directly into her face. “You said that if you had been in the right position to do everything, then you would have. Is that why you wanted to get married?”
Her heart gave a solid thud in her chest. She wasn’t the fainting sort, but the firm look in his eyes made her feel just that. She could see it now. This was not a man to be lied to. At the same time, she knew she couldn’t tell him everything about her sordid past – not every little detail.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And now that you have come to know me… would you have married me even if it meant not finding your family?”
She nodded fervently, her answer strong. “Yes.”
He sat back and looked away, slowly rocking back in his chair as he stared into the fire. He sat that way for so long that she started to wonder if he was ever going to speak to her again. Determined to busy herself instead of look like a fool, she stood and gathered the plate of food when he finally spoke again.
“Then I will help you find your family.”
She went ramrod straight, the dish clutched in her hands. “What did you say?”
“As my wedding gift to you, I will help find your family.”
A wide smile brightened her eyes. “Ignacio, are you asking me to marry you?”
A sheepish grin stretched across his face. “If your answer is ‘yes,’ then I guess I am.”
She dropped the plate back onto the table and rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him. The chair tipped back and he quickly sat forward.