belong in the kitchen.”
Bree smiled at the dark-skinned woman. Salt-and-pepper hair frizzed from her kerchief, and her face glowed with moisture from the steam.
Bree picked up a knife to chop cilantro. Nita hadn’t allowed her access to the kitchen until convinced that Bree was serious about wanting to learn to cook. She’d first suggested it to ease Tia’s burden, but was surprised to find she enjoyed it. In her old life, cooking had consisted of reheating restaurant hors d’oeuvres. Wouldn’t her friends laugh if they could see her?
Huh, friends. All those “friends” disappeared around the time that cell door slammed shut.
“Tia? Tell me about Max and Wyatt. What were they like growing up?”
“I tell you, but cut
poquito
—small.” Tia cut a stalk of cilantro to demonstrate, then handed the knife back. “See?”
Bree concentrated, trying to match Tia’s example.
Tia picked up a shredder and a block of cheese. “Max, he came first. His mama was Cheyenne. Back then, it was not good to be Indian.” She sighed. “His papa didn’t care though. He loved that woman. Maybe too much, I think.”
Bree finished chopping cilantro and moved on to the mound of tomatoes that were an integral part of every meal. “What happened to her?”
“Fever. At the end she didn’t even know Angus. She had bad pain here.” She touched her right side. “How you say?”
“Appendicitis?”
“
Sí
. When she died, that was the start of the bad times. Angus, he locked himself away to drink. Angry all the time.” Nita’s plump arms wobbled as her hands flew. A pristine industrial shredder stood on the back counter, but she insisted that cheese tasted better shredded by hand. “Max, he was a little boy. He didn’t understand. Angus was too busy hurting to take care of him. I do my best, but…” She shook her head. “It was a bad time.”
“What about Wyatt?”
Tia looked over with sad eyes. “That was the beginning of a worse time. But first Angus, he started to get better and take care of the ranch again. He looked around and saw Max running wild, old enough to learn.” Her hands stilled as she smiled into the distance, remembering.
“Maxie looked like his mama, and Angus, he loved that boy. They were always together then.” Tia chose a block of jack cheese, and creamy slivers fell on the shredded mound of gold cheddar. Her tone hardened. “Then Angus goes to Denver to buy a bull. But he came home with new cow, too.
That
was Wyatt’s mama.” Tia’s dark eyes flashed. “That Christina, she was trouble. Angus didn’t see until it was too late. She’s one of those…” Tia lifted her hands to twirl them around her head. “Fancy ladies. She didn’t like life on the ranch. Not a bit.” She picked up the shredder once more and bent to her task. “All she wants is Angus’s money. In Denver, she thought he was rich.” Her eyes wrinkled with glee. “Ha! She got a surprise.” Her face sobered. “Christina stayed long enough to have that baby;then she’s gone. Angus went to bring cattle from hills, and she lit out like her tail was on fire!”
“She left without her
son
?” Bree imagined a golden-haired baby lying in a crib, wailing for a mother who would never return. “What kind of woman could do that?”
“Pah!” Tia spat out. “A dog is a better mother than that one. It’s good she left.” Setting the bowl aside, she moved to open the oven door. As she opened it, the delicious smell made Bree’s mouth water. “Then it was just Angus and the boys. Much better then.” She pulled a cookie sheet of golden-brown puffed pastries out of the oven.
“Oh my God, Tia, what are those? Besides heavenly fat pills, that is.”
“Beef empanadas.” She placed one oven-mitted hand on her hip and turned to look Bree over. “You eat two. How you expect to get a man if you have a body like one?”
“You’re assuming I want a man.” Bree lifted a huge casserole dish of pinto beans as an excuse