“I recognize that look you’re wearing.” Aunt Linda carefully moved a strand of hair from my face.
“She could do worse.” Uncle Eddie pulled out, careful to avoid a female rider leading a gorgeous quarter horse down the alley to a waiting trailer.
Senora Mari’s gaze followed Ryan as he disappeared down the alley toward the crowd on Main Street. “You be careful. Don’t play with lightning.”
“I didn’t hear anything about him in your dream this morning. You can’t throw him into your pot of forebodings willy-nilly.”
“I can do what I please. I’m much older and wiser than you.” She reached up and took me by the chin. “You are too easily hurt. Protect yourself.” She locked eyes with me.
“Okay.” I kept my voice low. “I hear you.”
She released me and gave my cheek a pat. “And he’s not your type. You are simply bored.” Slowly she gave me the once-over and a sorrowful shake of her head. “And when young women are bored, watch out.”
“Hold on, folks. Been there, done that, burned the T-shirt. Just because Ryan and I talk doesn’t mean anything’s going on.”
“She’s heard you. Right, hon?” Aunt Linda asked with a wink.
“Yip.”
Senora Mari gave Lenny a nod. “I am always right. Wait and see.”
Chapter 12
Josie and Patti Do a Bit of Shopping
“Josefina, stop hiding at the bar.” A tired abuela was a salty abuela. “Double-check those tables. Lunch service or no, I am going home for a foot soak.” Our staff had everything set up and raring to go when we returned from the parade, which gave me time to relax before we opened our doors.
As Senora Mari made a dramatic exit through the kitchen, I eased off my stool onto my own tired feet. Fortunately for me, I’d changed into my flats once we’d returned from the parade. Lenny would be sure to mention in his next blog that black pumps should be sold as instruments of torture and permanently banned from the traditional folklórico costume.
“Hey, Jos!” Patti Perez called as she banged on the front door like a one-woman SWAT team.
“Hold your horses, woman.” I let her in and locked the door before any hungry customers could find their way inside.
“Tell me you’re not going upstairs to take a nap.” She stepped into the waitress station and helped herself to a red tumbler of iced tea and a lemon.
“Why? You got something better in mind?” From long experience, I knew that since Anthony had set up the dining room, he would expect to get the first two tables. Truth was, he could handle all of the tables in our casita wearing a blindfold with one hand tied behind his back. As long as I didn’t leave him alone for more than a half hour, he’d be grateful for the additional tips.
“There’s a vendor on the street selling silver jewelry. I want to check him out.”
“It’s too bad my bike needs a new tire.”
“Why’s that?” she asked with a frown.
“Because that’s the only way you’d get me on these stumps again.” I gestured to my aching feet.
“Got any ice cream to go with that pity party of yours?”
I laughed in spite of myself. “Hush. You’re the one who wants to check out the jewelry vendor, not me, you hussy.” Within the Broken Boot Feed and Supply, Patti sold feed, saddles, Western wear, and home furnishings, as well as beautiful silver and turquoise jewelry. After her parents passed away, she’d added the jewelry as an enhancement to draw not only farmers and ranchers, but their wives too.
She sighed dramatically. “Can I help it if I appreciate the finer things in life?” She ran her fingers through her bottle-black hair.
I threw a Windbreaker over my peasant blouse and found Lenny’s spare leash under the register.
“Let’s hit it,” Patti said, already holding open the door. We eased our way onto Main Street. By that time, the crowd I’d seen along the parade route had long since dispersed into window-shoppers and a steady stream of lollygaggers, handling merchandise at the various vendor booths.
“Let’s see what earthly delights wait to be discovered.” Even though it was May, I had a plan.
“Don’t even try.”
“What?” I asked innocently.
“Yip.” Lenny’s bright eyes shone.
“You. Shopping? I don’t know which one fits you less, shopping or curling your hair.”
My hair was a tragic tale, best left untouched.
I hated shopping for my family and friends for Christmas. Too much pressure to please. Too much to remember about their likes and dislikes. That sounds selfish, right? But frankly, no matter how much I tried to choose something that would express my sincere affection and set their eyes to sparkling, more than one would end up staring at their gift in confusion.
“I’ve decided it would be smart to combine the Cinco de Mayo festivities that I love with the shopping that I hate.”
“Browsing vendor stalls is totally nonthreatening,” she said, holding open Milagro’s door and then pulling it closed behind us.
I ignored her sarcasm. “If I happen upon the perfect gift for Aunt Linda or a salty abuela, my time-management skills will have increased exponentially.”
“Wie geht’s, Lenny?” Fred Mueller called from his booth across the street. The owner and proprietor of Fredericksburg Antiques was a spare man with a white mustache to match his short, salt-and-pepper hair. His sharp blue eyes and wire-framed glasses announced his keen intelligence and demanding personality. I had hoped to sneak by his enticing booth with its aroma of beef summer sausage and smoked cheese until we made our way back, but Lenny dug in his tiny heels and refused to walk, run, or march past the array of rich, fatty foods.
“You’ll pay for this, bucko.” I scooped him into my arms.” If I gain so much weight I can’t take you for a walk, who suffers?”
“Bring on the bacon.” Patti laughed at my expression; she could chug beers, eat
