Rio Grande Wedding Part 38

"Sort of," she answered. "Lapsed."

"Then you know about candles for the dead."

A ripple of concern moved in her. Warily she said, "Yes."

"Please," he said, gesturing. "Sit down.

"In my village, we have a feast for the dead on their day." He uncovered a dish filled with multicolored cookies and brought it back to the table, then poured more coffee, releasing the cinnamon steam into the air. "We eat all their favorite things, because we believe that they can see them and smell them. I madeposole because it was my sister's favorite. And she liked these cookies, too."

A true bolt of fear went through her."Alejandro, I don't-"

He put his hand on hers, firmly, holding her in place. "I know. It's not always easy, to think of them, the ones who are gone. But-" he lit a match and held the flame to the wick of a candle "-I like to do it anyway. It's only a day or two early. The spirits won't mind." He put the candle down. "This one is for my sister, Josefina's mother, Silvia."

Against her will, Molly felt herself softly snared by the flickering gold candle flame, by the lilting rise and fall of his voice. "Silvia was one year older than me. She loved these cookies. She loved anything American. She was very beautiful Josefina looks like her very much." His long fingers touched the edge of the jar. "I love her."

He raised his head, lit another match. "These two are for my parents. My mother, who loved flowers and her patio. My papa-" he grinned "-who loved to make money."

The trio of lights danced on his dark eyes when he handed her the box of matches. For a moment, she hesitated, then opened the box and took out a match. From the remaining holders on the table, she chose a matched set of round red gla.s.ses, and lit the votives within, an odd calm settling over her. "These are for my parents," she said, and her voice was strong. "My mother willbe loving the smell of this coffee, and my father will be snorting over this foolishness, even though it pleases him to be remembered."

She looked at Alejandro, and he waited patiently, his hands resting easily on his long thighs, then she lifted one finger and went to the fridge, took out one of the beers her brother had left behind and carried it back to the table.

Amid the mostly gla.s.s candle holders was one carved of pine, one she'd picked up at a church bazaar one Christmas. Molly moved it in front of her, and opened the box of matches before she could chicken out, then lit it and held the match to the unburned wick. It caught and flared in a wide, wax-fed blaze, then settled into a steady yellow flame. She shook out the match.

"This one is for Tim," she said, and as if he heard his name, the essence of him filled her. It was not a sad feeling, but a joyous one, and she touched her chest in wonder.

"He smelled of wood chips and soap." She opened the beer. "He loved beer and making things with his hands."A sweetness moved in her. "He was st.u.r.dy and strong and he loved this land with all his heart. Almost as much as he loved me."

Alejandro listened,a gentleness on his face. "He would have liked you very much, Alejandro. You could have talked roosters." Some of those tears, the ones she thought must be finished by now, slipped over her face, and she left them, because he would have liked that, too. "I loved him. I miss him a lot sometimes, still."

Alejandro leaned over the table and took her hand. "Youlove him. The dead, they never leave us. Not as long as we remember." And suddenly he picked up a cookie. "For Silvia!" he said, and mugged eating it with great gusto.

"For Tim!" she said, and took a great swig of beer, drinking it as he would have, in a big thirsty swallow, once, twice, three times. Some spilled over the side of her mouth, and she laughed, wiping it away with the back of her hand. "I'll have to practice that part."

He made a face at the cookies. "I never liked these very much."

"Oh, I do! I'll eat them for her." She reached for them and put one in her mouth, and ate it. "Thank you, Alejandro. For everything. The dinner tonight, and this." The entire evening had broken down her walls, and she said impulsively, "I'm really going to miss you. You've changed my whole life."

He bowed his head, as if the words pained him.

"I'm sorry," Molly said. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Forget I said

anything."

"No, I want to remember." He gave her a somehow wistful expression. "I want to remember all of these days we have had here."

For one long moment, she ached to close the distance between them. She even saw herself, in her mind, kneeling before him, touching his face, kissing his hands, saw it so clearly it was almost as if she'd done it. But there was, tonight, an odd sort of distance between them, and it was impossible to reach over it, as it would have been to kiss a stranger in public. "So doI ," she said, and then, hesitantly, "Alejandro, are we making a mistake?"

He stood, his face closed. "No mistake, Saint Molly. This is best." He blew out the candles, all of them. "For both of us."

Chapter 15.

Josh couldn't sleep, but it wasn't for the same reasons that had caused his insomnia the past week or so. Confession evidently was as good for the soul as they always said, because stating out loud that he'd been the one who fired a gun into a group of terrified migrant workers had eased his conscience. It still shamed him, but it wasn't festering in the same way tonight.

It also helped, he thought wryly, looking out to the piles of snow in hisyard, that the guy hadn't died.

No, what kept him awake tonight was his sister. The funny light-struck expression in her eyes whenever she looked at Alejandro. Over and over, he played one moment: when they'd been at the stove, moving easily around each other as if they'd been married a hundred years. Then Molly had put her hand on his sleeve and lingered there. In that moment, the tall Mexican had looked at Molly as if she'd hung the d.a.m.ned moon. And just for a second, Josh had seen the same thing in his sister's eyes.

Love. Not a mistake. Not for show. Not even admitted, he thought.

The clincher had been when Alejandro spoke to him about the house. That falling-down old white elephant Molly had been in love with as long as Josh could remember.

Alejandro wanted her to have the house so she would have something that belonged to her. So she wouldn't how had he put it? go hollow.

Stirring sugar into a cup of tea, he pursed his lips. Hollow. That was such a d.a.m.ned good word for the way Molly had been since Tim died. The only time she'd really come alive was when she started on that house again, wanting to buy it and fix it up. But Josh, too, had been grieving his brother-in-law, and it hurt him that Molly would leave the land she and Tim had bought together.

d.a.m.n, but he was a self-centered SOB at times. Stubborn and stupid and sure he had all the answers. Guilt moved in him over his part in the separation of Molly from Alejandro. What right had he had to do that?

He'd make it right in the morning. Whether she knew it or not, Molly was crazy in love, and with a man who deserved her. Who would take good care ofher. Who wors.h.i.+ped the ground she walkedon. He'd call the sheriff

Cut it out, a voice said wryly. What he had to do was step back and stop meddling. Let Molly make her own decisions. Claim her life ask for what she wanted.

He could do that. But he suspected she might need at least a nudge. He'd beat her down pretty hard this time. The least he could do was fix that part.

She could take it from there.

Josefina could not believe the sight outside her windows when she woke up. There was snow. Tons of it. Piles and piles, and more of it coming out of the sky. She wanted to go out and play in it so bad!

It took awhile for her to notice the other thing: it was quiet in the hospital. And the lights were not on. In surprise, she looked at the machines with their tubes and blinking lights and bleeping noises, and they were still, too. A nurse hurried in, frowning, though she brightened when she saw Josefina was awake. "How you doing, sweetie?"

"Good. Look at all the snow!"

"Yeah," she said, and didn't sound happy about it. "Three feet and it's still coming down." Quickly, she disconnected the machines and, giving Josefina warning, pulled the needle out of her arm and put a bandage on it. A pink one with doll faces.

"Am I going home now?"

"In a little while." She rolled up the various tubes. "The electricity is off in here and the machines won't work right. We have a generator to make electricity, but it's not working the way we want it to. There are some people who are really sick, and we have to save the power for their machines."

"Oh! I'm not so sick now."

The nurse patted her hand. "I know." She bustled out.

They brought her a breakfast that was cold. Kinda cold, anyway. Cereal and milk that tasted as though it might have been sitting on the counter for a little while. Still, she found she was hungry enough for a bear, and ate all of it. When she was finis.h.i.+ng up, a man came to her door.

She frowned. He did not wear a uniform, but she thought of a policeman, anyway. But he was pretty nice. "Hi, Josefina. I'm Molly's brother. Can I come in and talk to you for a minute?"

She nodded, deciding to wait and see what he had to say.

He had on a heavy coat with sheep fur on the inside. He had another one in his hands, littler, and she got scared, afraid it was for her. "What do you want?" she said, mean as she could.

"I need your help, kiddo."