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59 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

Rosemarie thought of her horses like her Family. I knew how she felt. They do become a part of

you.

I stayed busy on the ranch and managed to do some hunting when necessary. I’d shoot a deer

or elk so we’d have some fresh meat. I found out old Juan could cook. He was good company.

He providing me someone to share conversation and he made me laugh. I’ve always thought I

had a pretty good sense of humor but it’s hard to laugh when you’re by yourself.

Joe and Molly Simmons would come over once in a while and we’d play cards and drink coffee.

I’d try to do my share of conversing but usually couldn’t think of anything to say. Joe proved to

be a good neighbor and Molly was like a sister at times. I would never be comfortable with her

asking me questions about why a “catch” like me wasn’t married.

“Aw, Molly,” Joe would say, “Leave the man alone.”

“He needs a wife, Joe,” Molly put in.

“Gid, needs someone to help keep the house looking like someone lives here,” she said.

“He needs a woman’s touch. He needs curtains on the windows and someone to cook his

meals.”

Maybe she was right. It could sure get lonesome around here living by myself. I read any

kind of book I could get my hands on, to help pass the lonely hours. I had a few books that I

brought with me but I had read them before. I read them again and again.

I did put some curtains up a couple days later but more than likely, they weren’t the kind

a woman would have chosen.

Juan Torres complained very little but a few times he mentioned that he wished he could find

some hot chilly peppers. I had no idea where I could find some.

“Ju got to grow theese by youself,” Juan said. “I gon fine sam seed and plant it.”

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