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139 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano
She also missed her father terribly. He never once told her that he loved her verbally but
somehow she knew that he truly did. Her father was away mostly, everyday when she was a
small child. He had a big rancho to take care of and then he would disappear with Pancho Villa
for a few days and nights. When he was around the rancho, he spent most of his time outside.
The Sena would be late for the men. Rosemarie would have already been fed and put in her bed.
As she became older and interested in horses, her father was always with the men, tending to the
duties of a Haciendado. He had little time for his children and even less after Rosa was killed.
She wondered about the young, wide shouldered Americano. She dreamed of him at night
and even in the day. She would awaken with soft memories of a distant dream of him holding
her gently in his arms and kissing her tenderly. This would leave her blushing but it would send
her into thinking of him more and more throughout the day.
After her ride, she rode the two year old to the hacienda and had to explain to Contesa where her
other saddle horse was. She confessed to Contesa that she had been breaking and training her
young horses for several years.
“Rosemarie. You do not act like the lady you are supposed to!”
“I am doing nothing wrong, Contesa. I only wish, sometimes I would have been born a man,”
said Rosemarie.
“I’ve seen the way you looked at the gringo. You and he are both glad that you are a
woman!” Contesa said.
“If I were a few years younger, I might be tempted to go to America with him myself.”
“Contesa!” Stated Rosemarie,
“You should not be so bold with your words!”
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