Chapter Three
It was mid-October – Heath had been in Rio Blanco for over five weeks working hard. He was at the mine by six o'clock every morning and did not get back to town until the sun was setting. Keeping busy was his way of coping with the heartache he felt most of the time. The bad day was always Sunday, which was a day of rest.
Heath had tried doing maintenance tasks around the mine buildings, but Erick Folsom had, after the second Sunday asked him to stop. Erick clearly felt uncomfortable in telling the owner that his activities were stepping on the toes of the men whose job it was to do the tasks and creating hard feelings. That was bad news for Heath, even as he understood what Erick was saying.
It was too hot to stay in his room at the Inn, comfortable as it was. Heath had to admit that his accommodation was first rate, and the few meals he had eaten were delicious if on the heavy side. The third Sunday had come, and Heath had risen early, as was his habit even if he had nothing to do. He then remembered hearing about a stream with good fishing, south of Rio Blanco.
Frau Werner, who had made clear her disapproval of him not going to church, none the less found some fishing equipment for him. Heath had never referred to her as the Baroness after that first time, and before he left his room in the mornings he dusted carefully. He made it a point to be friendly, but she never responded with more than cool politeness.
His fishing was always successful, and he would bring the catch back to his hostess and offer it to her with a flourish. Heath knew enough about Catholics to know that fish was always a welcome meal; he also knew that Germans were very frugal, a trait he understood well. Over the course of September and into October he and Frau Werner became not quite friends but good acquaintances – until that third Saturday in October.
The pump installation was going well, and Heath was starting to think he could almost be home by the beginning of November. There had been some delays along the way, but nothing too serious, so when Erick Folsom came to him, asking if the mine could shut down early on Saturday he went along. The current Mexican government had announced some national holiday – Heath was not sure for what, but he really did not care.
He stayed at the mine until almost five o'clock, and then started the ride back to Rio Blanco. Even with the shorter days of the coming cool period there was still a great deal of light, albeit of a soft pinkish glow. When he arrived at the Inn it was deserted which had him puzzled? With a national holiday the Beirgarten should have been doing a bustling business; instead, he noted a sign at the front of the Inn that announced, "No hay serivico hoy".
Even curiouser when he walked into the central hall it was empty and silent. Heath glanced over to the dining room and saw no activity going on. Yes, it was too late to get dinner, but he had noted that the waiters did not always clean up right away. However, it seemed like the whole place was empty of any workers or guests.
Heath had skipped lunch because all the workers, including the cooks, had left early for the holiday. He was hungry and hoped he could at least get one of the delicious sausages that Frau Werner referred to as Bratwurst. He had become very fond of the sausage, served with a pickled cabbage that she referred to as sauerkraut. It was the perfect mix of well grilled seasoned meat and cold, crunchy, tart garnishes, all wrapped up in a fresh baked roll.
Making his way to the back of the Inn and out to the Biergarten he noted that the roasting pit was cold. Heath sighed, deciding to go upstairs and get washed up, before heading down to the kitchen. He had made friends with Frau Werner's cook, a Mexican that everyone referred to as Tia Flora.
When he arrived in the kitchen, he saw Frau Werner and Tia Flora sitting at a small table, in an alcove of the room. The black stove took up most of the opposite corner, while other kitchen staples took care of the rest of the room. The floor was roughhewn stone, uneven on the surface but cool underfoot. The longest wall was taken up by a stone arch with a fireplace inset in the wall. A heavy cast iron three-tiered spit spanned the fireplace.
"Ach Herr Barkley, I thought you would be in town celebrating with the other men." Frau Werner jumped up, shaking off her relaxed posture. Suddenly she was the stiff Innkeeper that he had always seen. One part of him felt bad, for interrupting what was clearly a night off for her, but another part of him was curious as to why her establishment was not celebrating the holiday along with the rest of the town.
"Pardon me, but I have been working all day – I am on a tight schedule." Heath gave her a lopsided smiled – not quite apologetic, but close enough. "I don't even know what the holiday is for. However, I could use something to eat; I can certainly make do with whatever you have on hand." In truth he found himself wanting to sit with this beautiful but enigmatic woman. His family thought he could keep things close to his person, but Frau Werner made him look like an amateur.
"You are my guest and I will certainly feed you dinner." Frau Werner declared and told Tia Flora to go ahead and leave. "I have some goulash left, which I will heat up, along with fresh baked bread. As a treat I have a white wine from Austria which I will pour for you."
"What is goulash?" Heath asked with interest. He was cheered by the thought of some wine; he had never been a wine drinker until after he came to the Barkley's. Now he knew from Nick's work with the vineyards, and time with Jarrod and Victoria, the delights of good wine. "I've never had Austrian wine before but will look forward to trying some."
"Goulash is a hunter's stew with paprika, a seasoning native to my homeland of Hungary." Frau Werner announced proudly, and Heath suddenly saw a joy in her soft pansy eyes that he had never seen before.
"Hungary? I thought you were Austrian?" Heath had assumed Austrian because the late Emperor at been Austrian. Frau Werner though did not look Austrian, which in Heath's mind was the same as German. Her statement opened so many avenues in Heath's mind, even as she continued to talk.
"Until 1867 Hungary was considered a province of the Austrian Empire; then with the Compromise of 1867 it was recognized in its own right." At this point she sniffed and raised her chin in the disdainful way he had seen back when he had made the mistake of referring to her as the Baroness.
She ladled a rich dark stew into a bowl and set it at the table opposite where she had been sitting. Heath watched as she laid a pewter spoon next to the bowl, along with a clay basket that had bread lying inside it. Frau Werner than produced a bowl with butter, a butter knife, and a plate that she set next to the bowl of stew.
"Please sit Herr Barkley. You have worked hard and deserve a good meal." She waved her arms with a flourish, as she produced a wine glass, etched with a fine design, and rimmed with gold. As Heath looked closer, he discerned a family crest in the etching, even as he admired the quality of the glassware. He watched as she filled a glass with a golden wine.
"What is your medallion?" Heath had noted the enameled disk on the gold chain around her neck as it fell forward when she reached over the table. He noted her eyes widened with concern, as she reached out to take it in her hand.
"It is a Saint Simon medallion, given to me by my father before I left for Mexico." She replied softly, as she looked at it for a moment, before tucking it back under the bodice of her black dress. "My father was named Simon, and the Baron who owned the estate had given it to him when he was baptized. My papa only had daughters, and since I was the oldest he gave it to me."
"Frau Werner, I don't like to dine alone. Would you please join me? At least for a glass of this special wine?" Heath was no longer hungry for food, but to know about this woman. Her story about her father made it sound like there was more to the tale; even as he was surprised at her openness. There were so many contradictions that bothered him, even as he privately admitted that the red hair enthralled him.
The Innkeeper's hair was a deep russet red, which glowed rich and warm by firelight. Heath compared it to Sharon's hair even as he did not want to at all. Sharon's hair was brilliant spun copper – it sparkled when the light touched it. Both women had smooth creamy skin, with soft peachy toned cheeks. Sharon's eyes were bright blue with black rims around the irises, offset by thick black eyelashes. Frau Werner's eyelashes were thick and black too but framed purple eyes like velvet pansies.
The smell of the food brought him back to his senses; he needed to stop thinking about Sharon, and Frau Werner's eyes. He was pleased to see that she smiled and procured another of the fine glassware as she sat down opposite him. She poured herself half of a glass and looked at him expectantly.
Heath realized that she wanted him to eat and not just stare at her; hunger came to his recuse and he dug into the stew. It was delicious – piquant not spicy – but somehow the gravy brought out the tastes of the meat and vegetables. He had never experienced a spice like that before, but decided that before he went home, he would get some of this paprika for Silas to experiment with.
"Herr Barkley, why aren't you in town celebrating the festival?" Frau Werner asked, as he finished his stew and she had drunk her wine. "You are a handsome, wealthy man – I would think you would be very popular in town." Her pansy eyes, suddenly a dark purple looked directly at him. "You are either married, affianced or" Frau Werner left the question hanging out there, as she refilled his wine glass. Somehow he had drunk the contents.
"I actually am a jilted suitor." Heath announced the effect of wine after six weeks with no alcohol at all overcoming him. "I asked a woman I loved to marry me; we loved each other but she turned me down." The lingering anger and sorrow started coming to the surface and Heath drained the wine in his glass in two swallows.
"Frau Werner why isn't your Inn and Biergarten open to take advantage of the holiday?" Heath inwardly recoiled from the pain he was feeling; it was easier to talk about something else than admit his hurt.
"I do not celebrate the current Mexican government; they executed His Imperial Majesty after taking advantage of him. Juarez was careful to lull the world powers, until he secured their gold." Frau Werner refilled her delicate etched glass. Heath understood the Mexican government and people wanting to be in control of their own destiny. On the other hand, he was sure that the late Emperor and the conversative nobles who had supported him had only been interested in the riches they could reap from Mexico.
Heath was astute enough to realize that Frau Werner would only know one side of the situation. She came from a country ruled by an autocrat, and clearly her job had depended on a noble who supported the ruler. It made him sad that she was still rigidly adhering to the old ways, even as they had left her alone in a foreign country.
"Why did this young woman, who you say loves you, turn down your proposal? You are wealthy, good looking, and seem to be decent even if you don't go to Mass." Frau Werner was clearly changing the subject, and Heath decided it was for the best. Instead he held out his glass, for a refill, which she obligated with.
"I am protestant, but in name only; I don't have a lot of use for organized religion." Heath stopped, deciding not to go into the details of why, because of his birth. He remembered Jarrod telling him a year ago, during a mining dispute, that he was Management and needed to act accordingly. Barkley-Sierra was the major employer in the area, and he was one of the faces of the company. Becoming a Barkley had been an education in more ways than one.
"The woman is Irish Catholic, and her people have received very bad treatment here in America. It was worse because there was famine in their land." Heath declared anger in his voice at how Sharon had been treated.
"Ach the Irisch! We heard about that in our country. Good Katholiken. I know though that they weren't welcome in America." Frau Werner paused, giving Heath the chance to comprehend the German words among the Spanish. She looked directly at him, and he saw concern in her eyes.
"Herr Barkley, I think the young woman did you a great favor. It is very hard to marry outside of your nationality, let alone your faith." Her countenance was stern, and Heath realized she was talking from personal experience.
"Can you explain that statement?" Heath was direct, grasping at the thought that maybe this woman could give him some insight into his situation. He watched as she looked closely at him, as if weighing how much to say. A soft sigh from her let him know that he had somehow passed muster.
"I told you that I am Hungarian. My late husband Franz was Austrian; we met when our lord came to visit his Hungarian Estate." She went on to explain that in the Kingdom the Austrian nobles all had Hungarian estates for horse breeding and hunting. "Franz was so good looking; his blue eyes twinkle as yours do at times. When you first walked into the Inn I was taken aback at the resemblance." Frau Werner admitted, biting her lip.
"He loved me, and I loved him; it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before or expected to experience. I was a housemaid, and he was a footman – ach to have seen him in his livery with the gold braid." She sighed, and Heath saw her eyes fog over with happy memories and tears.
"We married; the Baron, our lord, gave his blessing to our union." The smile she had as she talked about the marriage faded. "However, I would have to go live in Austria. I had grown up speaking Hungarian; yes German was taught in the schools but only used in certain situations. Soon I found myself living in a foreign land, trying to learn a language, and being treated as inferior by my husband's family and the staff at the Main House."
"But isn't Austria-Hungry the same country?" Heath was puzzled as he tried to recall what she had told him earlier. He did remember, from when he had first arrived, her story of how the Inn had received its name.
"Hmph." She sniffed, letting Heath know how it had really been. He knew all about social slights – both obvious and covert. It came to him that all cultures and countries engaged in petty behavior. Heath also started to discern that maybe Sharon had been more aware of social norms than he was. His musing was interrupted by Frau Werner's voice, which was soft and musical.
"When the youngest son of our lord, also a Baron, decided to seek his fortune by coming to Mexico with His Late Majesty, Franz decided we should go along. He knew I was unhappy in Austria, and how I was treated, especially by his family." She sighed and put some more wine into her glass before she continued to speak. "We would be the senior household staff for our lord and be in control. At first it was wonderful, but in the end it was all for naught."
Heath listened to her story of the unfolding of the events of the capture and shooting of Emperor Maximilian, and how the young Baron had barely escaped with his life, after turning his money and possessions over to the Werner's. In the course of the story, he learned that Frau Werner's name was Magda, and her Franz had only passed away seven months before because of typhus.
His family blamed her for his death and listening to her talk Heath realized that she blamed herself too. He felt so bad for this beautiful woman, and the sorrow that she had encountered. Just as he reached out to take her hand, she stood up and stiffened her shoulders while raising her chin.
"Herr Barkley, you need to be thankful things turned out as they did. You might love the woman, and she might love you, but your marriage would have caused great unhappiness in the end." She delivered the words in a sober tone, and Heath realized she was talking from her own experience. "Please enjoy your dinner." With a swish of her black skirts Frau Werner was gone, leaving Heath to ponder if that how it would have been for him and Sharon.