Folks take their history seriously in Tularosa, a southeastern New Mexico village of 1,500 souls and not a single stoplight. With a past that includes Apaches, Civil War veterans, West Texas outlaws, and a young rustler named William Bonney, tales of yesteryear are shared with the same gusto as fresh gossip over coffee at the Lazy DR Café.

The reason people here speak with strong emotion—or refuse to—of Billy the Kid, Pat Garrett, Oliver Lee, Pat “king of the cattle rustlers” Coughlin, and the “two Alfreds” (Fountain and Fall) is that many residents here are descendants of these infamous men or of other early settlers. In Tularosa, long ruled by “the law West of the Pecos,” you never know when insulting a historic figure means stepping on great-great-granddad’s toes. In these parts, some scores have yet to be satisfactorily settled.

Native daughter Cynthia Duran Prelo-Riedlinger understands that the history of this place is every bit as vital as the evening news. Her great-great-grandfather, Cesario Duran, was alcalde of the original hundred Mesilla Valley farmers who, after their lands flooded, came to Tularosa in 1860. They settled the approximately four-mile area known today as the “49 blocks.” The acequia they dug still carries water from the Sacramento Mountains as it winds through town, nourishing towering cottonwoods, grand weeping willows, poplars, mulberry, quince, and fig trees that shelter the original townsite with deep shade through the hottest July. Tularosa—a name that combines tular, Nahuatl for “reed,” with rosa, Spanish for the wild roses that grew along the ditchbanks—may be the only town in New Mexico where one is never far away from the sound of running water during growing season.