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“Wolf. Returned from the dead. What a surprise,” Henry said, rising and moving toward the two men heading to Bradford’s table.
Wolf stopped and turned to his father’s former business partner. “Henry.” He extended his hand.
Henry accepted the handshake and added a pat to Wolf’s shoulder. “Give me a call when you’re ready to discuss the business.”
Wolf raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Your father never changed his will,” Bradford said. “Katherine got the house, a healthy chunk of cash and all the personal belongings, but the rest, including the business, was divided equally between her, you, your half sister and your stepbrother.”
Wolf’s gaze swung to him. “My mother’s land.”
“All yours,” Bradford assured him.
Wolf breathed a satisfied sigh.
Sarita, who had taken a step back, saw Greg’s hand tighten into a fist around his napkin. He definitely didn’t like this turn of events. It was Wolf’s mother’s land that was adjacent to Sarita’s grandfathes’s...the land Katherine had earmarked for her spa. That Greg hadn’t raced out the door to contact Katherine O’Malley showed a certain amount of reserve, Sarita thought. Then she realized that he wouldn’t want to leave until he’d found out all he could.
Still embarrassed that Wolf had found her at his grave site, she would have preferred to remain in the background. But that would be cowardly, and pride refused to allow her to exhibit cowardliness in front of him. As Henry Jarrot returned to his table, she approached Bradford’s table. “Would you like something to drink while you decide what you want for breakfast?” she addressed Wolf in cool, efficient tones.
He looked up at her. Sarita Lopez had never behaved like he’d expected her to. “Apparently you are very good at keeping secrets,” he said in hushed tones.
“I figured that when you wanted people to know you were back, you’d let them know yourself,” she replied.
He nodded his approval. “I appreciate that.”
Glad she’d followed her instincts, Sarita noted that this had to be the first time the two of them hadn’t been arguing by the second sentence.
“You knew he was in town?” Bradford asked in the same lowered voice.
“I wanted to pay my respects to my mother,” Wolf elaborated. “We bumped into each other at the cemetery. She thought she was seeing a ghost.”
Grateful he hadn’t mentioned that she was at his grave site, she caught the look in his eye that told her he considered them even. And that suited her just fine. Returning her attention to her reason for even approaching him, she repeated, “Would you like something to drink while you look over the menu or are you ready to order?”
He glanced down at the menu. “Coffee to drink and I’ll have the Cowhand’s Special. Scramble the eggs,” he replied.
“Coming up.” Walking away, she saw the rest of the customers casting covert glances in Wolf’s direction. And unlike normal mornings when conversations flooded the place, voices overlapping each other until they were a muddle of noise, this morning conversations were being held softly, confining what was said to the occupants of the individual tables.
As she laid the paper containing Wolf’s order on the high, metal counter of the window between the kitchen and the serving area, Jules motioned her inside. Knowing she was going to have to talk to him sooner or later, she entered the kitchen.
“Who is this Wolf O’Malley?” he demanded in lowered tones, trying to keep an eye on his cooking food while watching for any further activity among the customers. “This is the first real excitement I’ve seen in this town since Norma Alexander caught Rupert Gordon peeping in her bedroom window.”
“He’s Frank O’Malley’s eldest son. Everyone thought he was dead,” Sarita replied. “Now I’ve really got to get back to my customers.”
But before she could make her escape, Gladys entered. “Isn’t this the most exciting thing? Ms. High and Mighty Katherine O’Malley is not going to like it.”
Jules looked confused. “I’d think she would be glad her son was alive.”
“He’s not her son,” Gladys explained. “He’s her stepson. His mother was Willow Bluefeather.”
“An Indian?” Jules asked, his interest increasing.
Gladys nodded. “Full-blooded Cherokee. I don’t remember her well. I do remember that she was very pretty.”
Jules peered harder out the window. “Yes, he does look as if he has Native American blood in him.”
“Willow Bluefeather O’Malley was beautiful and one of the sweetest women in the world,” Sarita said, recalling the kindness Willow had always exhibited toward everyone. “She died of some complication associated with the flu when Wolf was ten. His father married Katherine when he was twelve. He and his stepmother never got along.”
A knowing look came over Gladys’s face. “My Roy has always said Katherine wanted Wolf out of the picture so her own children could inherit everything.” In response to Jules’s raised eyebrow, she added, “Preston O’Malley was her son from a previous marriage. She made sure Frank adopted him so he would be sure to share in the inheritance. Claudia is Frank and Katherine’s child, but I think she only had her to satisfy Frank. Anyone can see that Katherine is partial to Preston. She thinks the sun rises and sets on him.”
Jules nodded his head. “She’s definitely spoiled him.”
Sarita had only been half listening. She’d been recalling how badly Wolf had taken his mother’s passing. In spite of the fact that she and he had never gotten along, she’d felt obliged to seek him out and offer her condolences. He’d growled at her, and she’d never approached him again. And she didn’t like gossiping about him now. She nodded toward the bacon that was fast becoming too crisp to serve. “We’d better get back to our customers, and you’d better get back to your cooking,” she told Jules.
Letting out a cry of dismay, he quickly returned his attention to his stove.
“Looks like life is going to get real interesting around here for a while,” Gladys noted as she and Sarita left the kitchen.
“I suppose interesting is as good a word as any,” Sarita muttered back, doubting Katherine O’Malley would use that same adjective.
Chapter Two
Sarita looked at the clock. It was nearly three. The normal hours for the diner were from 7 a.m. to 2 p.m. Constantly reminding people that he was semiretired, Jules reserved the rest of the day to work on recipes for the cookbook he was creating or pursuing his second passion...golf. Normally the last of their customers cleared out by two-thirty. Today the place was still half-full. And Jules wasn’t helping to ease the customers out, either. He’d closed down the kitchen and come out front, but instead of subtly mentioning that the afternoon was getting late, he was pouring coffee and entering into the various conversations about Wolf’s return from the grave.
The general consensus was that Katherine would be furious and she was a dangerous woman when riled.
“But Wolf O’Malley can be just as dangerous. Even more so,” Vivian Kale said, loud enough for all to hear.
Several others nodded knowingly.
Sarita knew what they were thinking. Her sense of fairness refused to let her remain silent. “There was never any proof those rumors were true.”
“What rumors?” Jules demanded.
“Some people think he pushed Katherine down the stairs when he was fifteen. Broke her arm,” one of the men said.
“The story she told was that she fell on her own,” Sarita reminded them all.
“Yeah, but her telling that tale never rang true to my ears. Could be she said it to keep peace in the family and the police out of it,” Vivian argued. “And, as I recall, Frank shipped Wolf off to that military academy right afterward.”
“Because his highfalutin stepmom had been trying to get rid of Wolf all along. Wouldn’t put it past her to have faked that fall down the stairs.” Charlie entered the fray. He didn’t usually come back for lunch, but Sarita had noted that several who only came for breakfast had come a second time today. And she was grateful Charlie was there. It was only right that Wolf should have at least one customer who would stick up for him.
“Her broken arm was no fake,” Vivian retorted.
“Could be she didn’t plan on breaking it,” Charlie rebutted.
“You’ve never liked Katherine O‘Malley,” Vivian fumed. "You’d take Wolf’s side if you’d seen him doing the deed."
Charlie glared at her. “Wouldn’t lie for no man nor woman.”
“Now, now. Keep your tempers under control,” Jules soothed.
One of the men laughed. “This ain’t nothing compared to what’s probably going on at the O’Malley place right now.”
The rest nodded, almost in unison.
“My money’s on Katherine,” another customer called out from a side table.
“You weren’t around when Wolf came back to town after college,” another spoke up. “Never seen a man so cold or in control.”
“Looks like six years away hasn’t changed him, either,” Vivian said. “When I passed him on the street a little bit ago, he gave me an icy stare that sent chills down my spine.”
Vivian, Sarita noted, was really getting on her nerves. “He’s probably had people staring at him all day. He was just returning tit for tat.”
Vivian snorted. “I don’t know why you’re so intent on defending him. I don’t recall the two of you being such good friends.”
Sarita was surprised herself by the intensity of her desire to defend Wolf. It was very close to a need. “We weren’t, but I don’t think it’s right to sit here and condemn him with unsubstantiated gossip.”
“Bradford Dillion obviously likes him,” Jules pointed out. “I’ve always thought he was a good judge of character.”
“Bradford Dillion was a friend of Wolf’s mother and her family. I don’t think he ever approved of Frank’s marriage to Katherine,” Vivian said.
Sarita found herself fighting the urge to shove a pie into the woman’s face. Shocked that she would consider going to such lengths on Wolf’s behalf, she reminded herself that Vivian had always gotten on her nerves.
“And the fact that Katherine has made it clear she intends to petition the court to have Dillion removed as executor of Frank’s estate and Greg Pike put in his place might have something to do with Dillion’s joy at seeing Wolf. Wolf will fight her tooth and nail to see that his father’s wishes are followed to the letter, especially any that go against hers,” one of the men from the back offered.
“If I were Katherine O’Malley, I’d hire a bodyguard.” Vivian gave her head a violent nod to add emphasis to her words.
Sarita’s patience came within a hair of snapping. “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.” When only Charlie added a grunt of support, it did snap. She glared at the assembly. “Don’t you all have something better to do with your afternoon than sit around and rehash old gossip?”
Jules looked at her worriedly, then a look of apology spread over his face as his gaze swept his customers. “It is past three.”
In a mild flurry of activity, the patrons paid and left.
When he, Gladys and Sarita were alone, Sarita braced herself to be fired. Instead Jules studied her with interest. “I’ve never seen you lose your temper. Is Wolf O’Malley an old flame that hasn’t quite died?”
“I didn’t know you even knew him,” Gladys muttered, also studying Sarita. “The two of you didn’t act like old friends when he was in here this morning.”
“When he was still going to school here, we were in the same class. And, you’re right, we weren’t friends. But I felt someone should stick up for him. It was like a lynch mob in here.” Not wanting to answer any more questions, she looked to Jules and said stiffly, “Now are you going to fire me or shall we get this place cleaned up so we can go home?”
“It’s been a long day. Let’s clean up this place,” he replied.
Both Gladys and Jules allowed her to do her work in peace, but she could feel them covertly looking her way every once in a while and was glad when she was finally on her way home.
The old rambling adobe ranch house she shared with her grandfather was a couple of miles out of town. In bad weather she drove. In good weather she preferred to walk. As she neared the end of the long, dirt driveway, she could see Luis Lopez seated, as usual, in his cane chair on the front porch, whittling. The chair was balanced on the two back legs, and his feet were propped up on the porch railing.
“Abuelo, did you hear the news?” she asked, mounting the porch, then leaning against one of the pillars holding up the roof.
He grinned, causing the deep weather-induced wrinkles of his permanently tanned skin to become even more pronounced. “If you’re talking about Wolf O’Malley returning, I did. I was weeding Mrs. Yager’s flower garden when the young Ballori woman came by to tell her. Seems his reappearance has caused quite a stir.”
Sarita nodded. “This turn of events should stop Greg Pike from pestering us about purchasing this land.”
“You’d think so.” Luis’s grin disappeared. “But it hasn’t. When I came home for lunch, he was on our doorstep with an even bigger offer. He says that since we have the spring on our property, Katherine can still build her spa.”
“Once she gets a notion, she’s like a dog with a bone,” Sarita muttered.
“I’ve been thinking that maybe I should sell.”
Shock registered on Sarita’s face. “You can’t be serious. You love this land.”
“I’m an old man. I’m satisfied with my life. But you...you could take the money to travel, to see the world.”
Sarita saw the worry in his eyes and guessed what was really on his mind. “I like it here. This land is as much a part of me as it is of you. It’s where I belong. And if I want to see the world, I’ve got enough saved up to take a trip.”
“You could go to college.”
They’d had this discussion before, as well. “I don’t want to go to college. I like my life as it is.”
“You have taken the vow you made to your father to watch over me much too seriously. You’ve restricted your opportunities. You work at the café, you come home and work in the garden, you ride your horse, you take care of me. What kind of life is that?”
“Peaceful.” Silently she admitted that there were times when her life seemed to lack fulfillment, but she wasn’t ready to admit that to her grandfather. Both her mother and grandmother had died when she was very young. Her father and grandfather had raised her. When she was in her late teens her father had died, leaving her the only one left to watch over the old man in front of her, and she would not shirk that duty.
“I worry about what will happen to you when I’m gone. I don’t want to see you alone in the world. You should have a husband and a family.”
They’d had this conversation a hundred times before. Her usual response was to say that she would do just fine on her own, that she liked being an independent woman. The words formed on the tip of her tongue, but when she opened her mouth, she heard herself saying, “All right. I’ll admit, I’d like to find a husband and have a family. But I’m not so desperate I’d take your money and go scouring the world or college campuses for one.”
Triumph glistened in his eyes. “You could go stay with my cousin José in Mexico City,” he coaxed. “The last time you were there, you had four proposals.”
“They wanted an American wife so they could come to this country.”
“You don’t have enough faith in yourself. One, maybe two, had that in mind, but not all four. I know for a fact that Greco was in love with you.”
“He got over it fast enough. He was married within two months of the time I left and the father of twins barely nine months later.”
“You rejected him and he was forced to move on with his life.”
“For someone as desperately in love as he claimed, he moved on fairly quickly, don’t you think?” she returned dryly.
Luis’s gaze narrowed on her with purpose. “I want to see you married, with a husband to look after you.”
“I don’t need anyone to look after me.” She gave an impatient snort. “Men! If I was a male you wouldn’t be so anxious about my being married.”
“You’re wrong. I would want you to have a wife to look after you. When the Lord ordered Noah to gather all the animals in pairs, he did it for a reason. The man looks after the woman and the woman looks after the man. Together they make a whole.”
“I feel perfectly whole on my own.”
“Evening,” a male voice drawled, as its owner rounded the corner of the house.
Startled, Sarita gasped.
