Santa Fe Fortune & How to Marry a Matador

did this in New York. Then again, traditions were more antiquated in Spain. Outdated. That’s right, Jess told herself, keep recalling the modern world you come from. A life over here could only feel out of place.
    “When we’re done touring the monastery and its tapestries, I’ll take you to its damasquinado shop.”
    “What’s that?” Jess asked.
    “It’s an incredible style of jewelry inlaid with gold and unique to Spain.”
    “Real gold?” Jess asked, stuck on that first part.
    Fernando nodded. “The brothers were trained by the finest artisans in Toledo. They sell their wares here to help keep this monastery afloat.”
    Jess loved creeping through the monastery as Fernando led her by the hand. Everything here seemed so darkly lit and holy. She almost swore she heard chanting as they made their way through the circuitous halls, studying one Catholic relic after the next, but Fernando said she was imagining it.
    Finally, they came to the shopping part, which excited her a little even though she didn’t plan to buy anything. The tiny gift shop was nestled in a corner on the far side of a brightly lit courtyard, sporting fountains and flocked with birds the good friars kept fed.
    “Don Fernando? Is that you?”
    Fernando turned toward a shopkeeper who greeted him with a cheery smile on his plump, round face. “Brother Emilio! How good to see you!”
    The men embraced fondly; then Fernando made his introductions. “I’m very pleased to have you meet my new bride.”
    Brother Emilio beamed. “Bride, did you say? Why, what wonderful news. I couldn’t be more happy for the two of you.”
    Jess said her polite hellos while Brother Emilio gripped her firmly by the shoulders and gave each cheek a happy kiss.
    “Brother Emilio was one of my earliest tutors,” Fernando told Jess. “He taught me everything I know about numbers.”
    “Lessons that served you well,” Brother Emilio said proudly.
    “When I was bad,” Fernando confessed confidentially, “my mother used to threaten to send me to the monastery to live with Brother Emilio if I didn’t behave.”
    Jess laughed out loud. Fernando in a monastery. Hoo. “That would have been a waste,” she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Jess felt her face flash hot, imagining she'd committed the most egregious faux pas. Poor Brother Emilio. Would he think she was insulting his chosen path of celibacy? Luckily, the good man took things in stride.
    “I can certainly imagine that,” Brother Emilio said with a jovial smile. “Now come, you two. Look around and pick out something you like. Anything at all. Consider it a wedding gift on behalf of the brothers here.”
    “Oh my, that’s so nice of you,” Jess said. “But we can’t.”
    “I insist,” Brother Emilio said.
    “He insists,” Fernando echoed with a tilt of his head.
    “Why, thank you,” Jess said, feeling herself blush. It hardly seemed right to tell Brother Emilio they weren’t really married—or might not be for long—when the fact of the matter was they were quite hitched in the eyes of the church. For now, at least.
    “Darling,” Fernando said sweetly. “Why don’t you select a little memento for the two of us while I catch up a bit with my old friend?”
    “Are you sure?” Jess asked, feeling like a kid in a candy shop with a fist full of change.
    “Absolutely. Just get something that reminds you of us.”

    There was a lot of stuff to admire, but most of it was jewelry. Very expensive jewelry, Jess thought, putting back a spectacular set of dangly damasquinado earrings that played beautifully against her hair.
    One of the other brothers came over to assist her. “You like these, miss?” he asked, retrieving them back off the rack. “Very beautiful, yes?”
    “Oh yes, totally marvelous.” Fernando turned his head in her direction as she waved the shopkeeper off. “But not so much my style, thank you. I’m looking for something more simple, really.” And she was too. She and Fernando couldn’t rob the good brothers of such an extravagant piece. Besides, women’s ear-wear didn’t precisely sound like a couple’s gift.
    “I’ll just browse a bit more,” she said, stepping over to the book section to survey the leather bookmarks. There were signs in several languages stating the good brothers had made these by hand too. She picked one up, appreciating its heady leather scent and surveying its beautiful custom design. “Is this an olive