Their Forever Family: Her Family for Keeps / A Father for Poppy / His Little Christmas Miracle

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“What’s up?” Duncan stepped closer and nodded to Pedro, spoke a few words of greeting.

“Kid’s got a case of Superman syndrome.”

“A what?”

“Superman. Thinks he’s invincible, and is into serious risk taking.”

“What is he, six?” Duncan glanced at the kid and frowned.

“Still thinks he’s Superman. Just needs a cape.” After relaying the list of injuries his father had reported and the escalation of them, she turned his hands over to show the rope burns to Duncan.

“So what’s really going on?” That was the question. There was always something behind a person’s behavior, a motivation, even if they were six years old and didn’t know it. She explained the loss of his mother and the emotionally distant father to Duncan as quickly as possible.

He sat with a sigh and examined Alejandro, speaking in Spanish. Pedro seemed to relax a little as he listened to Duncan. Then Pedro stiffened. “No.” He grabbed Alejandro by the hand and began to walk away. Rebel let out a gasp of distress and looked at Duncan.

“You can’t let him just walk away like that. We have to do something more.” There was always something to be done. Alejandro turned to look over his shoulder at her and her heart nearly broke at his big brown eyes beseeching her to do something.

“Uno momento, Pedro,” Duncan said, and the man stopped, but his leg twitched in his eagerness to get away from the situation. Some men couldn’t handle emotion and either ran from it or covered it with anger. Pedro was obviously a runner, so his son came by it naturally. Duncan motioned for the man to return the boy to the chair and spoke to him in Spanish.

Fortunately, the man responded, nodding now and then. Rebel gingerly lifted the boy’s shirt to have a better look at the wounds he’d sustained in the fall while Judd translated. “It’s okay, little man. I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry about anything.” She applied a non-sting wound spray to cleanse the open areas on his back and then a soothing ointment to prevent infection. The wounds on his hands were nearly healed, but she was sure they had hurt like crazy.

Responding to her gentle touch, the boy looked at her, hesitation in his eyes, as if he’d not known much mothering in his short life. He reached out to touch a stray lock of her hair. With careful focus, he took the strand and wrapped it around his finger. A curious expression covered his face, as if he hadn’t ever seen such a thing, and he probably hadn’t. Then he released it and it sprang back against her shoulder, and he grinned.

“Nice to meet you, Alejandro. I’m Rebel.” She shook his hand and noted he had a pretty strong grip. But she could tell he was definitely underweight.

He bobbed his head, but didn’t take his eyes off of her hair. “Buenas dias, señorita.”

Duncan patted Pedro on his shoulder. The man still stood stiffly with his arms crossed, his back to the child, but at least he hadn’t left.

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him he and the boy both needed some support. We’ll pay for it, but we’d really like him to go.” Duncan cast a glance at Pedro. “He’s not happy about it, but says he will try. At least it’s a start.”

He took a breath and let it out in a huff. He squatted by Alejandro and spoke to him, getting more information than Rebel could. She didn’t know what he was saying, but in a few seconds Alejandro gave a grin and then looked up at Rebel, his eyes sparkling for the first time since he’d arrived.

“What did you say to him?” She played along, pleased to see a light of humor in those defeated eyes.

“I told him you were an Irish fairy come here just to help him.” Though his face was stoic, there was a playful light in his eyes she responded to.

“Me? A fairy?” Seriously? At her height? “Aren’t they tiny little creatures and have tiny little wings?”

“I told him the only way you could tell a real Irish fairy was that they had beautiful, curly red hair and an impish gleam in their remarkable green eyes, but you had to look closely to find it.”

“Duncan,” she said. Her heart fluttering wildly at his words. The only glint in her eyes had recently been put there by him. And a fresh beating of her heart.

“Hey, you made him smile again, and that’s a beautiful thing.” He held her gaze for a second longer then broke away to answer Alejandro’s next question. “The other ladies around have tried to offer some mothering, but he hasn’t bonded with any of them. Until you.”

Alejandro distracted Duncan with another question, and he turned to answer the boy.

“He really likes you, you know?” Judd said, and gave her a playful poke in the arm.

“Well, he’s a sweet kid.”

“I mean Duncan. He really likes you.”

Rebel gave an assessing look at Judd. Was it true? Did Duncan really like her in the way Judd meant or was Duncan just having a good time while she was present and would move on to the next woman when he realized she could never give him what he needed? Was that reality or just her own fears surfacing?

“Oh. Yes. Well.” Flustered, she didn’t know what to say.

Duncan stood and the moment was over.

The tension that had eased resurfaced again when Pedro collected Alejandro. There was nothing to be done at the moment. Time would heal, eventually, but Rebel wanted to do something else to help him. To take him in her arms and rock him to sleep, the way he should have been all of his life. The boy went reluctantly with his father, casting longing glances at Rebel. As if the Irish fairy could help him.

A pain filled her heart as she watched him walk away.

What had started out as a lovely day had faded into a low hum of concern for Alejandro. Somehow she needed to figure out a way to get back here and help. Something in her called to this little boy, and she wanted to be around for him. Farming accidents were fairly common and if something happened to Pedro, what would happen to Alejandro?

She imagined she and Duncan would be heading back to Albuquerque soon and this lovely weekend would be committed to the memory books of her mind. She couldn’t imagine another weekend being more wonderful. Or more impossible to hang on to. There was just no way she could be what Duncan wanted or needed. After seeing him, his family, the way they were, this had to be just a one-time event. She just didn’t have it in her to be what he needed, and there was no way she would taint this family with her genes.

“Come here, children,” Lupe instructed, and ushered them from the heat of the outdoors to the cool interior of the home. Ceiling fans ran in every room and the windows were left open a few inches in order to facilitate circulation. The adobe structure needed no artificial cooling.

Rebel and Duncan settled at a large wooden table where several of Duncan’s older female relatives sat. Duncan introduced her to the matriarchs of the family, who all seemed to study her.

“They mean no harm, they’re just curious about you.” He took her hand. “As I’ve not brought many lady friends here, they are taking the opportunity to determine whether I’m worthy of you.” These ladies who had helped to raise him loved him, but didn’t always trust his judgment in women. That made him laugh. They were so right. At least up until now.

“Don’t you mean that the other way around?”

“No. Once you helped out with Rafael, they decided you were made of gold and can do no wrong.” He grinned. “I’m the one in the hot seat.”

“I see. I like them already.” Was she really seeing this? Was his family already taking her under their wings as one of their own? He looked at her as if he saw her, saw who she really was. That frightened her. She sipped her coffee and realized Lupe must have put a dash of red chili in the coffee as well. It had a nip to it. Or maybe it was the close proximity to Duncan and all he represented that made her sweat. The temperature was definitely going up.

“Tell me, dear, where are you from?” one of the aunties asked her. Before she could respond, Duncan’s phone rang, and he got up to answer it then glanced at Rebel and moved farther away. That was curious. Made her wonder if it was work.

Lupe made the introductions as to who was the oldest and the youngest and the ladies began to argue about who looked the best and who had the best hair and the fewest wrinkles among them. Rebel couldn’t help but be engaged and put at ease by these women.

The laugh in Rebel’s throat caught when Duncan reentered the room. Something was wrong. It was in his eyes, in his walk, in the energy around him. He looked only at her, and her heart sank. Somehow she knew this news was only for her.

And it was bad.

She stood, nearly knocking over her chair. “What is it? I know it’s bad, just tell me.”