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“I...uh...my name is Delaney Blair.” She wasn’t prepared for the vitriol spewed back at her in heavily accented English.
“You have some nerve coming here after all of the trouble you and your father caused my family during a time of crisis. You are not welcome. I suggest you leave now.”
“What do you mean? I didn’t cause trouble.”
The intercom sputtered again, but the light blinked out.
“No, wait. You don’t understand. I have to speak with Dario.” Panic-stricken, Delaney pressed the button repeatedly, but to no avail. She doubled a fist and hit the intercom, but it really didn’t help erase her frustration. Darn it, she had come too far to be thwarted by one of Dario’s brothers. Vicente was obviously under some mistaken impression. Dario had left Texas by the time her own life had dissolved in a major crisis. And it was her father’s lawyer and the bank who’d returned those bulls.
She stalked back to the SUV and glanced up and down the long wall. She could see the tops of some lacy trees inside. A colorful bird landed on a branch, trilling happily. The normalcy of that eased Delaney’s fast-beating heart. Used to solving problems that arose in her life and vet practice, she wracked her brain for a solution. She eyed the wall, the trees and her SUV, and came up with a plan.
She backed the rental vehicle up to the wall opposite the tree and got out. Wishing she’d worn jeans rather than this silly sundress, she removed the cardigan and slipped off her sandals. Buckling her sandals to her belt, she boosted herself onto the hood and then up to the roof of the SUV. From there, she leaped to the top of the wall where she balanced precariously on her belly.
Taking a few moments to gather her breath and strength to propel herself into the tree branches, she caught the sound behind her of a rapidly approaching horse. Busted, Delaney teetered unsteadily as she swung around to see who had interrupted her breaking and entering. To her shock it was a pretty blonde woman seated atop a spirited palomino mare that danced and kicked up dust around the SUV.
“What are you doing?” The rider brought her mount right up to where Delaney dangled. “I’m Maria Sofia Sanchez,” the young rider said, sounding imperious and oddly more British than Spanish. “You are headed for big trouble attempting to illegally enter my family’s hacienda.”
Tired, but determined to not look pitiful in front of any of Dario’s relatives, Delaney dropped back to the roof of the SUV and wiped her hands on her dress. She looked down at the rider. The slender girl was as fair as Dario was dark. She wore gold hoop earrings nestled beneath a windblown mop of blond curls. Her boots and the mare’s trappings screamed high-end. And the way she sat on her horse gave her the look of a reigning princess. But maybe she was approachable.
Delaney weighed her words carefully. “I buzzed the intercom to ask for Dario, but Vicente refused to open the gate. By the way, your horse is beautiful.” Leaning down, Delaney stroked the palomino’s velvety nose.
The rider said nothing, but she also rubbed her mount’s golden neck.
Unhooking her shoes from her belt, Delaney slipped them on. “I’m Delaney Blair. It’s been five years since I met Dario in Texas. I should have phoned before coming here, I suppose. But I wanted to surprise him.”
“Oh, he’ll be surprised all right. You’re the American who broke my brother’s heart and caused a huge rift in my family.”
Laughing nervously, Delaney sat on her skirt and scooted to the front of the vehicle where she could more easily reach the ground. “I hardly broke his heart. He took off, never to be heard from again, and left mine in tatters.”
The flash of sympathy in the horsewoman’s chocolate-brown eyes made Delaney sigh and fess up. “Unfortunately Dario didn’t only leave behind a broken-hearted woman, but a son who isn’t well. Nickolas is why I’m here. He’s what I need to talk to Dario about.” It was clear to Delaney as she jumped to the ground that she had sent shock waves through the horsewoman.
“Did you tell Vicente that?” the girl demanded.
“No. He didn’t give me a chance.” Delaney slumped against the side of her vehicle.
“This is something Dayo needs to know,” the girl said, shortening her grip on the skittish horse. “If you climb up behind me, I will take you to see him. He’s out on the property. He has a crew banding a new crop of young bulls.”
The offer was a gift. Delaney stepped on the SUV’s running board, and, hiking up her sundress, she landed squarely on the palomino’s broad hindquarters. No stranger to horses or riding, she gripped the ornately carved saddle cantle. Her host somehow managed to remotely open the heretofore locked gate.
“I’m ready,” Delaney announced, and was glad she had a good hold, because Maria Sofia sent them rocketing into the walled compound.
The grounds were quite beautiful from what Delaney could see, with a profusion of flowers blooming around the sprawling home. She was then whisked toward rolling, grassy hills dotted with grazing bulls. Every so often the horse startled coveys of quail, which called out and darted across the hard-packed earth.
Settling the mare into a trot, the girl finally glanced back at Delaney. “You acted surprised to meet me. I wish I could see Texas. I guess there’s no reason you’d know I’m the youngest Sanchez. I’ve only been home two weeks from schooling in London. I recently completed my lessons there,” she added giving a shrug. “I’d rather have studied here instead of boarding, but Our Lady of Fatima was my mother’s alma mater. Papa insisted I attend the same Catholic girls’ school.”
So that’s why Maria Sofia spoke with a British accent. Delaney absorbed the girl’s words. Dario’s sister had unwittingly added another stumbling block Delaney hadn’t considered before—Delaney was Protestant and Dario was Catholic. As if she needed another thing to stress about.
They were approaching a corral. Peering around Maria Sofia, Delaney saw a few men wrestling a young bull through a narrow chute. When the palomino pulled up short and crow-hopped to one side, Delaney got her first glimpse of Dario. Her heart rate shot up as she remembered—the very first time she’d seen him in Texas had also been from behind. He was just as gorgeous today. His mile-wide shoulders tapered to a skinny butt encased in low-slung, well-worn denim. He had a lazy way of walking toward a bull that defied description. Delaney felt her mouth go dry as her brain exploded in a...wow! There was no doubt but that Dario Sanchez was even more striking at thirty-one than he’d been at twenty-six.
Maria Sofia called out, “Dayo, stop what you’re doing. I’ve brought you a visitor.”
* * *
DARIO DIDN’T TURN at once. Instead, he calmly shot a tag through the ear of an unhappy bull that bellowed and kicked at him. As two helpers dragged the bull out of the corral through a side gate, Dario spun and aimed an irritated look at his little sister for disrupting his work.
The whole family had expected Maria Sofia’s tomboy ways to be curtailed at her regimented girls’ school. Obviously that hadn’t gone as planned. Staring into the sun, Dario paused to blot sweat from his forehead with the back of one leather glove. “Look, Maria Sofia,” he yelled, “how many times have we all told you not to ride wildly into a corral where we’re working with bulls?” he said in a mix of English and Spanish.
“You’re bringing in one bull at a time,” she pointed out sweetly. “And this time I have good reason for making you take a break. Come, say hello to someone you haven’t seen in quite a while.” Reining her horse around, the girl directed her passenger to swing off the mare.
Dario shaded his eyes. For a split second he thought he was hallucinating as the bright sunshine reflected off the flame-red hair of a woman climbing down from the back of his sister’s horse. He went hot, then cold, and felt his tongue tangle with his teeth, impeding his ability to speak as he gaped at the lovely apparition walking toward him, her full skirt appealingly kicked up by the wind. Never had he expected to see Delaney Blair again. Certainly not at the estancia, and especially not in the company of his half sister who studied him with a wicked, mischievous smile.
Forcing back his initial surge of joy, Dario deliberately turned his back again. “Julio, bring in another bull. Maria Sofia, please, escort our uninvited guest the hell out of here and off our property.”
Chapter Two (#ulink_e8141b89-8d9d-5144-8e77-fde63c786289)
The last response Delaney had expected from Dario if ever they met again was that he’d totally and completely reject her in such a cavalier manner. She numbly registered Maria Sofia recklessly propelling the horse between Dario and the chute where two wiry men were dragging in another bellowing bull. Through her misery, Delaney saw the girl garner Dario’s attention.
“Honestly, you need to spare a minute and hear what Ms. Blair traveled so far to tell you.”
Reaching up, Dario grasped the mare’s soft leather hackamore, a bitless bridle favored by vaqueros to train horses. His sister had no fear and ignored most boundaries—it didn’t matter how many times he and his brothers lectured Maria Sofia about the dangers for a slip of a girl breaking a range horse that stood fifteen hands high. Her mother, Dario’s stepmother, had died in the accident that had maimed their father. From the moment she’d returned home from finishing school, she’d expected the predominantly male household to be lenient, Dario thought; even now she was openly challenging him.
He knew he shouldn’t let his sister manipulate him, but he gave in to curiosity. What possible reason could bring Delaney Blair to see him? Driven still by an anger he couldn’t explain for a woman he’d never been able to forget, who haunted his dreams, Dario strode up to Delaney and asked curtly, “Okay, so what do you want?”
“For us to be civil, or is that too much to ask?” Delaney wanted to lash out at Dario but knew she shouldn’t. An outburst would likely ruin her chance that he’d agree to be tested. She hated being reduced to dirt by his flint-hard eyes.
“It may be too much to ask,” he ground out. “Especially since I doubt you’ve just happened to drop by to catch up for old time’s sake.”
Their sharp exchange had drawn the attention of the men who’d apparently decided to hold back the next bull. Changing tack, Delaney softened her tone. “I’m sorry I popped in on you without warning. I expected you’d be surprised, not hostile. Be that as it may, can we have a word alone?” She flashed a hesitant look at their audience.
Dario’s first inclination was to refuse. But after glancing around, he saw how the others in the corral focused on them. Even Maria Sofia had dismounted and leaned toward them. Motioning for Delaney to follow, he turned and they walked toward the far fence.
Swallowing, Delaney whispered his name, her voice catching at the end.
“Just spit it out, Delaney.”
She hesitated again, then quickened her step to come up beside him. He’d set a booted foot on the lowest rung of the wood-railed corral, flagrantly male and heart-stoppingly good-looking. The confident, sexy stance reminded her of their brief but passionate affair and drove Delaney’s carefully crafted speech away. She couldn’t control her thoughts. “You left me pregnant,” she said and watched his body stiffen and his foot slip off the rail with a thud. She wanted to snatch back her words. Instead, she continued. “It’s true. After you left Texas, I gave birth to your son. His name is Nickolas. Right now he’s in a Lubbock hospital battling leukemia for the second time in his life.”
Dario balled and un-balled his hands, yet said nothing, so Delaney talked faster, explaining how Nick had blessedly gone into remission after weeks of treatments during his first brush with the illness. “I assumed he was cured. Everyone did. But two months ago his fevers came back. He needs a bone marrow transplant. In a quirk of fate, I’m not a match. Nor is anyone currently in the national bone marrow registry. All of my friends and many of the people I work with as a vet have been tested. The problem is that kids with mixed blood present special difficulties. We need someone of Hispanic descent, and we’ve signed up and tested as many people as we can. I brought a packet of information if you’d like to study it. Or, you can go online.” Delaney pursed her lips, wishing he would say something. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but Nick’s doctors say he’s out of options.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say to the stone-faced man staring so coldly at her that Nickolas might die without a match. Wishing she didn’t feel so desperate, she wound down, continuing, “I’m here to ask you...beg you to be tested. The doctors in Texas can arrange for you to have blood drawn in Buenos Aires. You’d only need to fly to Texas if you are a match. Even though I don’t have the necessary blood markers, Nick’s doctors think you or someone in your family might.”
“This is all bullshit, Delaney. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull.” He threw up a hand. “We only had one night together. But something I am sure of, I used protection that night. So your kid’s not mine,” he said, slapping his hand against his chest.
“I don’t know what went wrong with our protection, but something did. You know very well you were my first, Dario. And there’s been no one since. Not since you left me without a word.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know why I left. Your dad made it very clear when he caught me sneaking downstairs from your room at dawn. He ordered me to leave the ranch and to never contact you again, and he threatened to see that Estancia Sanchez never sold another bull to the Southwestern rodeo stockmen. Which he did anyway, by spreading lies about our bulls being diseased. We had a hell of a time regaining our reputation.”
She stopped a moment. “Wh-what do you mean my dad ordered you to not contact me again, and held sway over stock contractors?” She drew back, narrowing her eyes.
“He said he’d spent a fortune on your education and you weren’t going to throw away his dream of you being a veterinarian on some oversexed foreigner. He followed me as I rounded up my crew, making sure we left the ranch. He swore if I tried to reach you, Estancia Sanchez would never sell another bull in Texas or surrounding states. That’s the bulk of our US business. I held up my end of the bargain, but he did all he could to ruin us. On top of that, we had to eat the cost of transporting home eight expensive bulls at a terrible time for my family. It’s only recently that Vicente was able to get anyone from the Southern rodeo circuit to consider our animals. If you don’t believe me, ask your father.”
Delaney massaged the suddenly icy skin of her upper arms. “I can’t ask him. The week after you left, he was out on the range, miles from the house, and his appendix ruptured. A neighbor saw buzzards circling late in the day and rode over to investigate. He found my dad on the ground, his horse watching over him. The medical examiner said gangrene had poured through Dad’s bloodstream, killing him. The weeks that followed were the worst of my life. For one thing, I had no idea he’d mortgaged the ranch to pay for my schooling. The banker said that rather than sell off land, Dad floated a second lien to buy the bulls. I didn’t even know Dad had become involved as a rodeo stockman. The bank ordered the bulls to be returned to you, not my dad. I had no home, no father and no practice to go with my new doctorate when what I thought was the flu turned out to be morning sickness.”
Dario’s eyes widened. “If what you say is true, Delaney, I’m sorry.”
“It is true. Every word,” she said huffily.
“But why didn’t you get hold of me then? Why wait so long?”
“My God, Dario, you had dropped out of my life. A woman has her pride.”
“You wait years, then spring this kind of news on me? Bah! So, who spread the word to other stockmen that our bulls were flawed?”
“I’ve no clue. Maybe my dad didn’t trust us, and called people anyway. He could see how badly I wanted to hear from you.” Delaney’s voice gave out.
Dario threw up his hands. “I tell you what, Delaney. Bring the boy to Buenos Aires. I’ll arrange for our family physician to do DNA testing. If that proves my paternity, I’ll undergo the other tests you want me to take.”
Gazing into his unyielding eyes, Delaney didn’t know where the kind, playful man she’d fallen in love with had gone. He could send off a swab to be tested. “You’re an ass, Dario Sanchez. Nickolas is too sick to travel.” Blinking back tears of frustration, she caught the eye of Dario’s sister who had ridden closer, and she beckoned to the girl. “If Maria Sofia will take me back to where I left my rental vehicle, I’ll go home and do all I can to increase the circle of potential donors. I’ll cast a wider net in the Texas Latino community.”
He met her glare for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the bull pens.
Maria Sofia barged between them on her horse. “Dayo, go to Texas to have the tests. I’ll go with you. I’m bored here at the estancia,” she said, tossing her long golden curls over one shoulder. “You all refuse to let me help with the business. While you’re at the hospital, I’ll explore Texas. We had a visiting professor from there, and I’d love to see the state. But Papa will never let me go unescorted.”
“Stay out of this, Maria Sofia.” Dario’s exasperation was evident. He ran both hands over his hair. He began to speak, excluding Delaney as if she wasn’t standing there. “Take Dr. Blair back to where you found her and get a phone number where she can be reached tonight. When I decide on a course of action, if any, someone will contact her.” He turned and walked away, dismissing Delaney completely as he called to the men lounging around the chute. “Bring in the next bull for tagging. Ahora mismo!”
Delaney’s heart sank lower. She’d failed Nickolas. She didn’t believe Dario would go through with the tests, but what more could she have said? Maybe she should have begged harder. Somehow she doubted if even crawling on her hands and knees to Dario would have made a dent. “He’s angry at me for things I had no part in doing,” Delaney said.
Maria Sofia stared after her brother. “This is so not like Dayo. Of all my brothers, he’s always the most thoughtful and reasonable. Maybe he needs time. You shocked him,” Maria Sofia said, gathering the reins and mounting her horse. She kicked out of one stirrup and offered her hand to Delaney to help her to swing up behind again.
“I suppose. I’m not sure how I would react if our positions were reversed,” Delaney said, wanting to look back as the girl clucked to the palomino and they trotted off. But she didn’t. Instead she wondered whether her father had gone to the lengths Dario claimed. Perhaps. He’d raised her alone from the age of three after her mother had drowned. She and Dario had loss in common. He’d told her his mother had died of a pulmonary embolism shortly after his youngest brother was born. And now his stepmother—killed in a car accident. They’d all suffered. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing Nickolas.
* * *
IGNORING THE PAWING, snorting bull his two helpers dragged toward him, Dario tracked the retreating women. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d acted. He should call them back. Too late. Distracted by the amount of leg Delaney was showing, he’d let them get too great a head start.
The bull lashed out, one of his back hooves grazing Dario’s thigh. The handlers wrestled the animal into submission long enough for Dario to clip a brand pin through the bull’s ear. The men rattled off apologies, asking Dario in Spanish if he needed to have his leg looked at.
He shook his head. In spite of limping, he motioned for them to bring in the next bull. As he waited for them, his mind wandered. A son. Had he really fathered a child? The very notion sent warmth curling through his chest.
It wasn’t until he’d pinned three more bulls that he allowed himself to think about Delaney again. Five years had done nothing to dull the attributes he’d found so appealing when they’d met. Her red hair blazed like a wildfire. No less spunky, for sure, but maybe now she was thinner. He had noticed a change in her eyes. Still clear aqua in color, the bubbly spark had dimmed, replaced by a weariness he feared he’d had a part in causing. Undoubtedly he bore some blame. Maybe her dad hadn’t told her he’d kicked them off his ranch. His own Papa would do that if he caught someone sneaking out of Maria Sofia’s bedroom.
What a mess. Delaney’s life had certainly been altered forever. Not just having borne a child alone, but dealing with the abrupt death of her father. He could sure relate to that. And if, as she’d indicated, Mr. Blair’s demise had left her without the only home she’d ever known, well, it’d be a high hurdle to overcome. He had thought his family had weathered too much in the accident that took his stepmother’s life and paralyzed his dad from the waist down. Always stalwart, strong and larger than life, Arturo Sanchez had been left crotchety and bitter. Hell on wheels was how Vicente put it. Add to that their business problems, and their family dynamics had been transformed, leaving all of them short-tempered. Maybe losing their share of the US bull market wasn’t Delaney’s fault. She’d acted surprised. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to excuse the fact she’d waited five years to inform him he had a son—if indeed he did.
* * *
MARIA SOFIA RAISED her voice as she chattered nonstop on the ride back to Delaney’s SUV. Much of her conversation blew away on the wind.
As she reined to a halt by the automobile, she said, “Instead of leaving and going back to Buenos Aires, you need to stay. I know, why don’t you share our evening meal? If you like steak.” She wrinkled her nose in apparent distaste. “Consuelo is an excellent cook. She always prepares enough for a half dozen guests.”
“I can’t barge in on a meal. It’s clear I’m persona non grata with the bulk of your family,” Delaney said with panic, as she dismounted and shook down her dress. “With luck I may be able to have the hotel concierge arrange an earlier flight back to Texas for me. I’ve hit a brick wall here. I shouldn’t have come, but I had to take the chance, don’t you see?”
Leaning out of the saddle, Maria Sofia squeezed Delaney’s shoulder. “Don’t give up hope. Have faith that Dayo will think this over and do the right thing.”
The girl looked so earnest, Delaney’s dispirited heart gave one tiny lurch of hope. “I appreciate all you’ve done, Maria Sofia.” She slipped out from under the girl’s touch and opened her driver’s door. Taking her purse out from under the seat, she dug out the ignition key and slid beneath the wheel.
“Wait,” Maria Sofia called, dismounting in a leap. “Dayo said for me to get your phone number. And I’ll give you mine so you can let me know if you’re able to get a seat on an earlier flight.” She tugged a phone from her jeans pocket and hit a few keys before turning an expectant gaze on Delaney.
Delaney rattled off a string of numbers, then retrieved her cell and keyed in Maria Sofia’s contact information even though she was nowhere near as optimistic as Maria Sofia that Dario would have a change of heart. She managed a smile and a wave while sparing a last look at the walled estancia as she drove off.
* * *
DARIO LIMPED IN late to the evening meal. He’d finished tagging the entire crop of young bulls, separating out a good number to be made steers at a later date. He hadn’t been surprised to find his leg turning purple where he’d been kicked by the bull. He was bloody where the sharp hoof had split his skin.
“You’ve kept us waiting almost fifteen minutes,” Arturo Sanchez groused from his seat at the head of the large dining table. His wheelchair was within reach, but the family patriarch refused to remain in the chair at mealtimes.
“You didn’t have to wait on me,” Dario said, sitting next to Vicente. The whole family knew their father was a stickler for dinner being served at nine on the dot, as did most Argentinians.
Their cook, Consuelo Martinez, who’d been hired by Maria Sofia’s mother, bustled into the room bearing a large metal platter filled with sizzling bife de lomo, sirloin steaks grilled to each man’s preference. Arturo insisted his meat be muy jugoso—very rare. Vicente took his jugoso—not so rare. Dario and Lorenzo liked theirs a punto, or medium. Maria Sofia didn’t like meat, and so Consuelo served her a crisp ensalada before she set the family-sized salad bowl in front of Arturo, along with a newly opened bottle of red wine. The old man tasted the wine, approved of it, then passed the bottle to Vicente to pour for the others. Each night, Arturo’s sour expression showed his anger that the accident had left him unable to walk around the table to fill everyone else’s glass. No one spoke until after their father offered up a short prayer to the Blessed Virgin. Since the accident, mealtime discussions had become restrained.
But this evening everyone quit eating when, seconds after the prayer, Dario picked up his glass of wine and casually announced, “I banded all the bulls today. Tomorrow Marcus and Jesus will start castrating the animals we culled out. Then I’ll be going to America for a week or so to take care of some private business.”
Maria Sofia clapped her hands and squealed. “I knew you’d do what’s right. And I’m going with you, Dayo,” she said in English.
Their father’s head shot up, and his upper body stiffened. “What is this nonsense? You can’t go anywhere during calving.” His Spanish was precise.
Vicente let his fork clatter against his plate. “How did the woman find you? I ordered her to leave the property when she buzzed at the gate.”
“Who buzzed?” their younger brother Lorenzo asked. “What woman? Are you holding out on us, Dayo?” he added with a laugh.
“It’s the Blair woman from Texas,” Vicente spat. “The one whose father screwed us over and cost us a bundle in money and prestige the month Papa had his accident.”
“Oh. Her.” Lorenzo scowled at Dario.
“I repeat, how did she find you?” Vicente sneered as he shoved aside his plate.
“I took her to see him,” Maria Sofia said lightly. “She had good reason to be here. And Dayo has good reason to make this trip. Tell them,” she said. “Papa, you won’t let me sell bulls, so I’ll go have a look at Texas.”
Arturo pounded his fist on the table. “Enough,” he roared. “There is nothing the Blair woman could possibly say or do to warrant Dario going to see her. If she’s come sniffing around, she’s probably discovered that you’re now a full partner in the estancia, son. And Maria Sofia, you only just got home from London. You need to enroll in a dance class and volunteer at the museum. I already spoke to the curator on your behalf. We’ll stop this talk and everyone will eat the flan Consuelo prepared.”
Anger simmering, Dario wadded his napkin and dropped it on his plate. For some reason he didn’t like his family tearing into Delaney. “I don’t recall asking permission to take a week off, Papa. I’m going, and my business with Dr. Blair is personal.”
“I’ll say,” Maria Sofia purred. “Delaney Blair claims she has a four-year-old son, and Dayo’s the boy’s father.”
Everyone’s utensils clattered against their china. Stunned silence hung in the air. Suddenly, Arturo swore in rapid-fire Spanish, and Vicente and Lorenzo shouted questions in Spanglish—which wasn’t uncommon as they frequently switched from one language to the other for business.
“Why now?” Vicente’s voice rose above the others.
“I told you,” Arturo snapped, “she’s somehow learned that I divided the estate between you three boys, which makes Dario a wealthy catch.”
