by Mimi Milan
“You still sleeping at the diner, Nacho?”
“Yeah, I figure it’s easier that way. No travel to worry about. Just get up, roll out of bed and get to work. Maybe I’ll start spending more time out at the homestead when I marry,” Nacho’s voice dropped to a mumble. “That’s to say, if I marry.”
“Well, you’re lucky you caught me. I was getting ready to head on out.” Culver said and approached one of the horses. He ran a large, gentle hand down the horse’s side. “You misbehaving again, Jose?”
Nacho laughed. “I can’t seem to keep him away from Maria. That’s why I thought I’d bring him down here. Maybe I can separate the two and he’ll cool off. Although, maybe there’s no hope with so much love in the air.”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“But would you say that, amigo?”
There was a small smile on Culver’s face, but he fell silent. Nacho couldn’t help but rib him a little. “Come on. Tell old Nacho. How are things going between you and your lady friend? It’s the one with the baby, yes?”
“Yeah, that’s her.” Culver led the horse to an empty stall. “Actually, that’s why I said you were lucky to catch me. I was only stopping by to check on things. I plan on going to talk to her after I leave.”
“Far be it for me to get in your way, friend.”
“Nah, you’re not in my way.” The man closed the door to the stall. “How are things going between you and the one you picked? Don’t think I didn’t notice that little ‘if I get married’ comment earlier.”
Nacho shrugged. “I don’t know. Things seem to be blowing a little hot and then cold again.”
“That doesn’t sound right. Not for a guy like you,” Culver joked.
“I know. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Everything seemed to be going so well. Now she seems upset with me. I have a sneaking suspicion as to why, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Well, why do you think it is?”
“Because I was married to Colette.”
Culver grunted. “Hmm. That doesn’t sound right. Anyone’s got to figure that we’ve all got a past – the women as well as the men.”
Nacho thought about the woman Culver had been paired with. She came with an infant in tow. Yet, things seem to be sailing along rather smoothly for them. At least, as far as he knew… and certainly more so than it was for Nacho.
“You’re right. I should just sit down and have a talk with her – explain why I didn’t mention it before. Maybe that will smooth things over for us.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” the gentle giant gave Nacho a solid pat on the back. “Now, I hate to kick you out, but—”
“Don’t worry, I understand. Go see your lady friend.” Nacho made a slow walk for the livery door. “It’s getting on to dinner time anyway. The restaurant might be closed, but I’ll still need to cook for myself. I’ll come by in the morning to check on the horses. Might go ahead and take them out again since Josefina injured her foot.”
“She did?”
“Asi es,” Nacho confirmed. “A peculiar thing the way she fell. She was dancing and… well, I don’t know. It looked like that woman, Penelope Jackson, caused it. I’m not so sure, though. The look on Madame Bonheur’s face…”
“Madame Bonheur? She was there?”
“Oh, yes. She came to see how I was faring – so she says – from losing Colette.”
Culver’s eyes grew wide. “I don’t know what to tell you, Nacho. It sounds like she’s still got it out for you.”
“I think you might be right – especially seeing as to how Fina learned about my previous marriage because of the Madame’s visit.”
Culver let out a low whistle. “I don’t want to say I told you so…”
“Ya sé, ya sé. I should have listened to you when you tried to warn me about falling for Colette to begin with. I won’t make that mistake again. From now on, it’s the straight and narrow for me.”
The conversation trailed off and Nacho sighed. The last thing he wanted to think about was his dead wife. Thinking of her made him think of other things – like the reason he had married her to begin with.
He ran a hand through his hair and placed his hat back on. “Well, I better head out and let you do the same.”
“Alright, Nacho. Let me know if you need anything. Have a good night.”
Nacho threw his hand up in a lazy wave and shuffled out of the livery, walking back up the road, towards the diner. He gave some serious thought to stopping by Seamus’s saloon again, but thought it best to just go on to the diner.
The last thing he expected was to find the door wide open, though! Nacho looked around but didn’t see anyone. Either everyone was off trying to woo one of the new brides, or they were already celebrating Christmas with their families and friends.
So, who could have possibly been out in this cold… and seeking shelter in his restaurant?
His mind immediately raced to all the possibilities and one outweighed all the others.
A thief!
Nacho suddenly wished he had some kind of protection on him. Unfortunately, the only gun he owned was stored behind the counter in the diner. He reasoned that everyone in Noelle had always gotten along relatively fine. Sure, there were fights now and then. Someone would have too much to drink and start a fight – accuse another of cheating at the card table. Noelle wasn’t a dangerous town, though. At least, not to the point where it was necessary to be readily armed for a fight. Besides, they had Sheriff Draven in case things got a little too rowdy. So, no need to carry a gun on his own hip.
Now he was thinking a little differently. What if some out-of-towner had followed the women into Noelle? What if they were the sort to shoot an unarmed man at first sight?
Alright. Maybe that first bit was a little farfetched. The rest was a real possibility, though.
He slowly approached the diner. Thankful the drapes had been drawn back for the day, he peered into one of the windows. The place was darker than usual, but the light from outside shone in just enough to show that it was empty. He advanced towards the door, quietly pushing it open.
“Hellooo.”
He crept along the dining room, carefully stepping over the annoying boards that always creaked and made his way to the counter. He reached behind it, his fingers brushing against the pistol. At the same moment, the kitchen door violently swung open.
“Hey!” Nacho yanked the gun up to eye level.
“Blast this confounded contraption!” Grandpa Gus shook a coffee percolator in front of him. “How am I supposed to work this thing?”
“Gus?” Nacho stared at him, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” The elderly man asked. “What are you doing there, waving a gun around? Put that thing down before you hurt yourself.”
Nacho immediately lowered the gun. “My apologies, señor. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t frighten me,” the cantankerous man groused. “In fact, the only thing that frightens me is this… this… thing!”
He ferociously waved the metal pot again, the lid flipping back and forth with such force that Nacho was sure it would break at the hinge. He quickly replaced the gun back to its place and rushed over to Gus, grabbing the percolator from him before any real damage could be done. “Gus, does Jack know you’re out right now? I would hate to think you wandered off again. You know how that makes him worry.”
Thoroughly chided, the man looked away for a moment and Nacho knew the answer. He felt sorry for both men and hoped Jack would marry soon. It had to be difficult trying to run a business while caring for his senile grandfather.
“Well, I didn’t ask for him or anyone else to worry about me,” Gus groused. “I’m a grown man. I don’t need a caretaker. However, what I could use is a good cup of that café you like to make every morning. Been having a hankering for it ever since I left the diner. Besides, it’s the least you could offer after I came all this
way to bring your Christmas gift.”
Nacho ignored the fact that “all this way” was all of maybe a ten-minute walk and turned instead to the square package Gus pointed at. It sat at the edge of one of the tables. Large and squared and wrapped up in brown paper, Nacho picked it up and gave it a shake. His mind first wondered if it could have been from Fina, but he quickly dismissed the thought, reasoning that she would have simply brought it with her to the diner… and the likelihood that she would send it after the cold farewell he received was slim at best.
He flipped the package over and noticed a return address.
Home.
Rather, what had been home once upon a time. He tentatively tore open the brown paper, wondering what his brother could possibly be sending him. The last communication he received was earlier that year when he learned his mother had fallen gravely ill. That led to Nacho rushing back to his childhood home, but a little too late. He stayed only long enough for the funeral and then returned to Noelle as fast as he could, burying himself in work once he arrived.
Removing the last of the paper, he found a box. On top was a letter which promptly fell out. He flipped it open and, finding a neatly penned message signed by his brother, couldn’t help but wonder who had really written it. Two things he knew about Carlos was that the man struggled with reading and his penmanship was atrocious. Nacho pushed the thought aside, though, quickly scanning the note to learn that his mother’s will had bequeathed to him her wedding band and beloved book of recipes.
“Ay, caray!”
Nacho dropped the letter to the table and ripped open the box. Tied to a piece of string wrapped around the book was a gold band. Set in the middle was a small, round garnet. He untied the ring and kissed it with reverence – the same traditional act performed every time he would visit his mother after a long spell away, bowing before fully embracing her. He stared at the ring a moment longer before pocketing it to focus on the book once again. Running a hand down the distressed brown leather, he slowly opened the cover and read the inscription inside.
To my beloved Ignacio,
a child after my own heart
who understands the importance of good food.
Make me proud, hijo.
“Anything good in there?”
Nacho looked up from the book to find Gus still waiting.
“Anything that might get me a cup of coffee?” the man asked again.
Standing, Nacho closed the book and tucked it under his arm. He smiled at the elderly gent. “Most certainly, amigo. It’s the least I can do after you have traveled out in the cold to bring me such fine treasure.”
“That good, is it?” The man raised a suspicious brow. “Wouldn’t happen to have enough gold in that box to save the town, would it?”
“I’m afraid not, my friend. That’s why the men are getting married. Remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. I’ve got to get me one of those ladies. Gotta’ figure out a plan.”
Nacho only shook his head and lead Gus to a table. There was no explaining that only twelve men had been chosen for the mail order brides, and that the poor guy didn’t stand a chance. “Well, while you give that some thought, I’ll go ahead and get you a little something.”
He returned to the kitchen, snatching up the percolator in one hand while the other held his mother’s beloved recipes. He set the book on the table and the pot on the stove, ready to make the café con leche when a thought struck him.
What could be better on this chilly winter day than a nice, hot cup of atole?
The only problem was that attempts at making the beverage never turned out right. Whether it was an issue with the consistency or simply the taste itself, he could never replicate the delicious beverage of sweetened cornmeal. That is, it never turned out nearly as good as his mother had made for him as a child.
Nacho abandoned the coffeepot and flipped open the book, hopeful that a recipe waited inside. To his satisfaction, he found what he was looking for after a few pages. He ticked off the ingredients one by one.
Masa, sugar, chocolate, canela, water, milk…
Milk!
The item took him by surprise and he wondered if that was what had been missing all along. There was only one way to find out. Working his way around the kitchen, he found one dry good after another and set each on his prepping table. Then he went outside to the metal icebox he had commissioned Culver to create for storing cold foods. It had seemed funny to a few at first, but quickly proved preferable to the newer ones that utilized toxic liquid gases. Provided he packed enough snow and ice, the foods stayed cold just as well but without the added risk of accidental leakage of undesirable fumes.
Inside, he heated up some water on the wood burning stove. As he waited for it to come to a rumbling boil, he shaved a small bar of chocolate and measured out both the cornmeal and sugar. At the appropriate time, he poured all of them into the water, one by one, continually stirring until each dissolved. As the mixture cooked, he added in two cinnamon sticks.
The kitchen door opened.
“Did you fall into the pot?”
Nacho chuckled. “Ya, viejo. I was just about to bring this out. I wanted to make sure it was nice and thick before I did.”
“Nice and thick? I like my coffee strong, but not so much as to walk on its own. Why did you thicken it?”
The question prompted another laugh. “I didn’t make coffee this time. I tried something new that I’m sure you’re going to love.”
“New?” A worried look crossed Gus’s face. “Aw, Nacho. Have ya lost yer mind? The whole town knows what happens when ya try something ‘new.’ I don’t wanna be the first to test it out.”
“Calm down, Gus… and wipe that look off your face. I’m about to serve you the finest beverage ever conceived – even better than that rot gut Seamus likes to sell. I’m sure you’re going to love it. In fact, I’ll let you eat here for a whole week – FREE – if you don’t.”
“I better like it,” Gus quipped. He accepted the Talavera mug Nacho offered. “If I end up at Doc Deane’s, then you’re footing the bill.”
Nacho raised his hands in defeat, silently agreeing to the man’s demand, and watched as Gus took the first sip. The old man’s face lit up with delight.
“Say! That’s mighty fine.” He took another, longer drink. After swallowing, he licked his lips and let out a sigh of satisfaction. “Mighty fine indeed. What did you say this was?”
“It’s atole,” Nacho explained. “This one is made with chocolate.”
Gus chuckled. “Oooh, wee! You’re gonna make a killing off of selling this stuff right here, Nacho. People will be draining their piggy banks for a taste of this.”
Pleased, Nacho found a lid for the pot and covered it. “I hope you’re right, amigo.”
“I know I am,” Gus said and drained the rest of his cup. He slapped it down on the table. “Say, why don’t you give me another one to go. Then take some of that down to La Maison and ask yer gal if she don’t think the same way I do about yer mama’s recipe.”
Nacho hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Why not? Yer not getting cold feet, are you?”
“Funny you should use those words,” Nacho mumbled. He grabbed a ladle and served the man another cup of atole.
“Oh, Lord. What’s going on?” Gus asked as he eagerly accepted his second serving.
“I think she might be the one getting cold feet,” Nacho explained.
“Well, maybe you ain’t romancing her the way you should.”
Offended, Nacho snorted.
“Stop making that noise. Ya ain’t a horse,” Gus snapped. “Now you just listen to old Grandpa Gus, ya hear? There’s a little something you youngins seem to forget. Most men fall in love with their bellies, but a woman’s way is straight to the heart. You understand what I’m saying?”
Nacho smiled, ignoring the elderly gent’s mixed up sayings. “I think I understand. It is like my father used to say… ‘A woman is like unt
ouched soil. She grows what you sow.’”
“Exactly,” Gus nodded. “High time you start listening to yer pa’s words of wisdom.”
There wasn’t much that Nacho and his father had seen eye to eye on, but he couldn’t recall a time his mother was ever unhappy. Perhaps his old man had gotten a few things right after all.
“Maybe you’re right, Gus. I’ll try to do as you suggest – possibly even take some atole to her tomorrow morning.”
“So long as you’re back here in enough time for the morning rush.” The man finished off the rest of the chocolatey drink. “I plan on stopping by and getting me some more, too.”
“Then I’ll be sure to make extra,” Nacho said as he walked the man out. He waved goodbye from the front entrance. “Thanks again, Gus.”
He shut the door and bolted it (a rare practice) so that no other unexpected guests showed up, interrupting his study of the age-old family recipes his mother had handed down to him. As he flipped through the pages, he couldn’t help but wonder what Josefina would think of the book. Would she be delighted to learn his mother’s recipes, or would she consider the mention of yet another woman much like his ex-wife… an unwanted ghost from the past?
Chapter 5
Noelle, Colorado
December 26, 1876
Fina bounced the baby on one knee.
“I would be delighted to watch her,” she exclaimed and buried her face under Jem’s chin. She made small smacking noises until the baby squealed with delight. “Ay, tan preciosa. I could eat you up. Yes, I could. Yes, I could.”
Zee laughed. “Thank you, Fina. Culver and I really appreciate the time alone. We’ll be back this afternoon for her.”
“Not a problem,” Fina said. “I don’t have any intentions of going anywhere.”
She meant ever word, too. Despite forgiving the fact that Nacho had gifted her a present that originally belonged to his dead wife, she was in no position to travel. The swelling around her ankle had reduced considerably thanks to all the snow she packed on it the day before. The prayer card of the Virgen of Guadalupe stuffed in her shoe didn’t bring any harm either. Still, neither treatment had been enough to set her right again. She could barely hobble around the house, let alone take a walk down to the diner. So, she was more than happy to watch the baby as Zee and Culver celebrated their wedding.
