Someone Like You (Night Riders) (29 page)

Maria didn’t feel like discussing the future. It seemed too dreary. “I’d better get down to breakfast before they send someone else after me.”

“More likely they’ll eat everything up. I’ve never seen Luis with such an appetite.”

“Rafe let me gallop from the stable to the mountains,” Luis announced as soon as Maria entered the breakfast room. “He says I’ll win the pony race next time. He says I’ll need another pony. I’ll be too big for this one.”

And who was going to buy that pony? Neither she nor Dolores knew anything about horses or ponies. As far as she knew, the lawyer didn’t, either.

“Broc says I’m going to be big like Rafe.” Luis paused. “Why did Broc move to town? I wish he was here.”

“I’m sure we all miss him.” Maria busied herself pouring coffee. “He was always lively company.”

“Rafe says it’s because Broc tells such big whoppers. Whoppers are things Broc makes up that aren’t true,” Luis explained.

Now the boy was talking like his brother. Didn’t the man
have any notion of what his leaving would do to Luis? What Rafe was doing for his brother was wonderful, but every increase in confidence, every new skill, even the silly stories made Rafe that much more important to Luis. He was going to be devastated.

“I’m not sure I approve of telling whoppers.” Maria looked directly at Rafe. “It can lead people to hope for things that will never happen.”

“It’s okay if I don’t get to be as big as Rafe. I’ll still be taller than Broc.”

That wasn’t what she’d meant, but she couldn’t explain to Luis.

“Now that Luis has given me a chance to get a word in edgewise”—Rafe gave Luis a playful punch—“is your headache better? Did you sleep well?”

“Yes to both questions.” Maria had a feeling she was getting the beginnings of a real headache. “I was just slow coming down because I was being very lazy.”

“Rosana said you never stay in bed late,” Luis said. “She was worried you might be sick.”

“I’m not, so everyone can stop worrying.”

Luis swallowed the last of his breakfast and jumped up from his chair. “Rafe said if I finished all my studies this morning, he’d take me with him and Miguel this afternoon. Rafe says the ranch is going to be mine when I grow up so I have to know every corner of it.”

“Your father’s will gave half of the ranch to each of you,” Maria pointed out. “You will actually share it with Rafe.”

Luis’s smile was radiant. “That’s even better. Then I can ride with you forever.”

After Luis had left the room, Maria said, “I didn’t mean to make him think you’d be here forever.”

“Do you really think I don’t mean to give my portion of the ranch to Luis?”

“Luis won’t reach his majority for twelve years. A lot can change in that time.”

“True. I’ll see the lawyer about making the transfer official.”

“Don’t!”

Rafe seemed startled at the vehemence of her words. “Why do you care what I do with my part of the ranch?”

“It was your father’s will that you and Luis share it.”

“A will is just a piece of paper. It’s not the same as spoken words.”

Maria had wondered how Rafe felt about not getting a chance to speak to his father before he died. She supposed the hurt of their separation was so great in the beginning he didn’t want to see his father again, but would Rafe have come home if he’d known his father was dying?

“Your father still loved you when he died. He kept everything in your room the way it was the day you left. He kept your picture by his bedside. He would never speak to me of the sadness that was in his heart, but I could see it in his eyes. I saw him every day during those last years. I didn’t need words to know he still loved you, missed you, wished you would come home.”

“Then why didn’t he write me?”

Was there a suspicious catch in his voice?

“Part of the reason was the same pride that kept you from writing him, not even to let him know you were still alive. Part was not knowing where to write. I expect he wasn’t sure how to undo the mistake he’d made or unsay the words that had passed between you. I’m sure he feared you wouldn’t come back even if he did write.”

“We’ll never know what he wanted, will we?”

“At least now I’ve told you what I saw. It’s up to you to decide whether you think I’m right.” She rose from the table.

“Don’t go.” Rafe had got to his feet, moved between her and the door.

“I have work to do.”

“There’s nothing that can’t wait a few more minutes.”

He moved closer and reached out to take her hand. She wanted to pull away, but her muscles wouldn’t obey her
command. Instead her fingers tightened around his until they gripped him as firmly as he gripped her.

“You can’t stop trying to take care of people, can you?” he said.

“I haven’t done anything someone else wouldn’t have done.”

“What about Dolores?”

“That’s an unfair comparison,” she replied.

“Not really, because you’ve done the things she should have done: raised her son, taken care of her husband, managed the house hold. You did all of that and took care of her as well.”

“She gave me a home.”

“She issued the invitation—out of her own selfishness, I might point out—but my father gave you a home. I’m talking about the care you put into your work, the love you have for people. You seem to have no idea how rare that is.”

Maria didn’t feel that she’d done anything rare or special. Anyone would have loved Luis. Warren had been more difficult to get to know, but he’d ultimately given her his complete trust, had depended on her when he got sick. It was only natural that she would care for her own sister. “I just did what needed to be done.” That didn’t sound like an adequate answer, but the way he was looking at her had shaken her to the core.

It was the way she’d always expected a man to look at the woman he loved.

“You did what your heart told you to do,” Rafe said, “not what your mind told you was necessary.”

“My heart and mind were in total agreement. How could I take care of Luis and not love him? How could I—”

She had no warning, no intimation, that Rafe intended to take her in his arms and smother her with a kiss that took her breath away. This sort of thing didn’t happen in the morning, and it didn’t happen in a breakfast room. Not in the civilized house of one of the richest men in California.

She’d told herself she didn’t want Rafe to hold her or kiss her, that it would only make things worse when he left, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Rafe was not a man to display his emotions. Knowing that made every kiss, every embrace, make her feel loved in a way that the attentions of other men never could. He hadn’t wanted to like her or trust her, but his feelings for her had overridden all obstacles.

Knowing that, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, giving free rein to the desire she had held back for so long. She felt overwhelmed by her need for him, her desire to be as close to him as possible. The feel of his arms around her rendered all her objections unimportant. If there were consequences—and there would be—she would deal with them later.

She couldn’t find the words to explain how wonderful it felt to be close to him. It wasn’t just that he made her feel safe. Or that he made her feel wanted and attractive. It was that being in his arms, having her arms around him, satisfied some unnamed need that lived deep inside her. Holding him tight, being held tight, felt so good, she needed more. Yet despite the yearning that came from every part of her body, it was a quiet need, a peaceful need, a restorative need.

There was nothing quiet or peaceful about Rafe’s kisses. They were hungry, rough, demanding—and life-giving. They bruised her lips while they nourished her soul. They sapped her strength at the same time they unleashed a barely contained flood of energy within her. They threatened to obliterate her yet held out the possibility of happiness beyond all reasonable expectation. They overwhelmed her while redefining her more clearly than ever before. They threatened to absorb her yet whispered she had the power of life or death over him.

She let herself be swept away by the joy of being in the arms of a man who inspired the kind of love she’d always dreamed of. She wanted to wrap herself in the feeling until
it became the air she breathed. She wanted it to seep into her bones and sinews until she felt formed, shaped, and defined by it. She wanted to—

The opening of the breakfast room door and the sound of heels on the wood floor destroyed the cocoon that had enveloped her. She and Rafe broke apart, turned to find Rosana had entered the room.

“They just brought Miguel up to the house.” Tears streaked her cheeks. Her voice shook so badly it was difficult to understand her words. “They think he has a broken neck.”

H
ave you called a doctor?”

“Juan sent one of the stable boys.” Rosana led them from the ranch house toward the bungalow Miguel occupied.

“What happened?”

Rosana shook her head. “Nobody knows. A worker found him on one of the plantations farthest from here. He was lying in the middle of the lane. He must have fallen from his horse.”

“Did the horse go lame or stumble?”

“They don’t know. The horse was gone.”

Rafe didn’t understand that. All the saddle horses on the ranch were trained to stand when ground hitched and to stay near a fallen rider. Left on foot, an injured man could die.

Rafe steadied Maria as they practically ran down the stairs, out the door, and across the courtyard. Miguel had been a second father to him, teaching him to love the land, to know the people who worked for him, to understand how to make plants and animals grow and thrive. His father had trained him to be a businessman. Miguel had taught him what it meant to be a farmer.

Rafe’s first glance at Miguel when he entered the man’s bedroom was reassuring. His neck wasn’t at an angle that would indicate it was broken. A second glance showed him Miguel was breathing, but he appeared to be unconscious. “Does he have any broken limbs?”

“I don’t think so,” Rosana said, “but I was too upset to check. Besides, I couldn’t…I don’t think…I decided it was better to tell you right away.”

Rafe interpreted that to mean Rosana was uncomfortable touching Miguel’s body. Rafe felt the same. He was a man everyone looked up to, respected, who held a position of authority on the ranch.

It was easy to confirm that his legs were okay. His arms looked fine as well, but Rafe was worried about internal injuries. “I’m going to undress him.”

“Do you think you should?” Rosana asked.

“He’ll have to be undressed before the doctor can examine him. Then he will need to be dressed for bed.”

“I can help,” Maria volunteered.

“I appreciate your offering, but Juan and I can do what needs to be done. You can be responsible for nursing him.”

“I’ll sit with him to night,” Rosana offered. “Somebody has to see that we’re all fed and Miguel’s medicines are prepared properly,” she said when Maria started to protest. “With Miguel in bed, you’ll have to take over running the ranch,” she said to Rafe.

Rafe didn’t feel like arguing with Rosana. “As soon as the doctor has seen Miguel, I want him taken up to the main house so I can keep a close eye on him.”

“I’ll see that a room is prepared for him,” Maria said. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do here?”

“Not until the doctor arrives. Rosana, tell the stable hands I want to know the minute they find Miguel’s horse. In the meantime, send Juan to me.”

Left alone with his overseer, Rafe began to undress him, taking care to handle his body as little as possible in case there were any internal injuries. He had undressed Miguel and covered him by the time the doctor arrived.

Juan still hadn’t appeared.

“What happened?” the doctor asked as soon as he looked at Miguel.

“We’re not sure. He was found lying in one of the farm lanes.”

“He’s getting up in years.” The doctor ran his hands over
Miguel’s limbs. “There are a dozen reasons why he could have been unseated.”

“There are none I can think of,” Rafe said. “Miguel is an excellent horse man, and his horse is mature and well trained. They’ve been together for over fifteen years.”

“Accidents happen to the most experienced riders regardless of what horse they’re riding.” The doctor checked Miguel’s ribs, applied gentle pressure to several places in his abdomen. Apparently finding nothing to worry him, he gently rotated Miguel’s head, then checked his eyes. “It’s not a broken neck. From the bruising, I’m guessing he landed on his head. I’ll know more about his spine when he wakes up. In the meantime, keep him warm and comfortable. Who’s going to take care of him?”

“Go up to the house and ask for Maria.”

The doctor smiled. “Miguel couldn’t be in better hands. Maria took care of your father during his long illness. I’ve never seen anyone do a better job.”

Rafe didn’t like being reminded that Maria had been responsible for his father while he knew nothing of his illness.

Juan appeared as the doctor was leaving.

“Where have you been?” Rafe asked.

“I was helping some of the stable hands catch Miguel’s horse. It knows all the forgotten paths and hiding places on the ranch better than we do. It took us almost an hour to corner it.”

“What could have made it so skittish? Miguel hasn’t said anything about cougar attacks.”

“It wasn’t a cougar or any other animal. We found a three-inch dart buried in his hindquarters.”

“Why would anyone attack Miguel? He doesn’t have an enemy in the world.”

“It doesn’t make any more sense than the other attacks.”

Rafe had tended to think of the attacks as being unconnected, but now he wasn’t sure, especially since he’d decided he had to include the collapse of the gazebo in the list. Who
could have been the intended target? Maria, Dolores, Luis? Anyone could have been hurt by the damaged structure. He’d assumed the attack on Broc had been meant for him. He was obviously the intended victim in the bullring, but how could he explain the attack on Miguel?