by Lara Lacombe
Gabriel turned to look at Diego for the first time since they’d all settled in the study. “You’re wrong,” he said calmly. “And I can prove it.” He cocked his hip off the chair cushion, pulled something from his back pocket that turned out to be a small square of paper. He unfolded it carefully, stood and walked over to place it on Abuelo’s desk. Then he returned to the recliner.
As Abuelo examined the paper, his face lost what little color it had. He jerked his head up to look at Gabriel, who nodded once.
“What?” Diego demanded. “What is that?”
When Abuelo didn’t immediately reply, Gabriel spoke up. “Do you want to tell him or should I?”
Jose leaned back in his chair and ran a hand down his face. “Go ahead,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s your story.”
Gabriel nodded again and took a deep breath. “My mother was Christine Richardson. Ricardo Cruz was my father.”
Diego made a dismissive sound in his throat, but Isabel wasn’t so quick to respond. She studied Gabriel’s face, the faint tingle of recognition she’d felt on the porch growing stronger as she mentally compared him with her memories of her father.
“It’s true,” Gabriel said, glancing at Diego. “My mother and Ricardo were together in the summer of 1982. When she realized she was pregnant, she came here to talk to him. He wasn’t home. But you were.” His head swiveled back to Jose.
Abuelo swallowed. “Yes, I was.”
“You told her Ricardo was married, that he’d never leave his wife. You gave her that check—” he nodded at the paper on the table “—and sent her on her way.”
Isabel stared at her grandfather, trying to imagine the scene. Diego’s birthday was August fourteenth. If Gabriel’s story was true—and the more she stared at him, the more she was certain it was—his mother would have discovered her pregnancy right around the time of Diego’s birth.
“Yes,” Jose repeated. “I did.”
“Are you kidding me?” Diego exclaimed. He stalked over to Abuelo’s desk and grabbed the check. After inspecting it for a moment, he threw it down and turned to their grandfather. “Some woman shows up pregnant and claiming Dad’s the father and you believed her?” He shook his head. “Way to stand by your own son.”
Anger flashed in Jose’s eyes as he stared up at Diego. “I’m not a fool, young man. I’m not now and I wasn’t then, either. She was telling the truth.”
A flicker of doubt danced across Diego’s face. “But that would mean...”
Abuelo nodded. “Your father was a complicated man. He loved you and your sister. I think he loved your mother, as best as he could. But fidelity proved too much of a challenge for him.”
Her grandfather’s words landed like small stones against Isabel’s heart. She’d been a young girl when her parents had died in a car accident. She had many happy memories of them as individuals, but she remembered the times they’d been together as being strained, with a current of tension arcing between her mother and father. A few times they’d argued in front of her, voices loud and passions high.
Isabel had never asked Abuelo or Maria about her parents’ marriage, preferring instead to focus on the good times they’d shared. But with his simple statement, Abuelo had confirmed one of her longest-held suspicions as fact.
Wyatt’s arm wrapped around her, a silent gesture of support that reminded her she wasn’t alone. She leaned against his side, grateful for his strength.
No one said anything for a moment. Then Diego nodded at the check. “So you gave her the money for an abortion?”
Jose nodded. “That’s what she asked me to do.” He turned to Gabriel. “Your mother was hurt and angry when I told her Ricardo had a wife and a newborn. She said she couldn’t take care of a baby on her own, and that her family would disown her if they knew she was pregnant. She asked me to help her pay for a termination.”
“So you did.” Isabel couldn’t keep the note of judgment from her tone. This was a side of Abuelo she’d never seen before, never even thought existed. How was it possible that the man who had rocked her back to sleep after a nightmare, gently tended to her skinned knees and sipped imaginary tea with her from tiny china cups had written a check to pay for a young woman’s abortion?
Abuelo met her eyes. She saw sadness and regret in his gaze. “Yes,” he replied. “To my shame, I did what she asked.”
“She changed her mind.” They all turned to look at Gabriel. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Obviously,” he said with a lopsided grin.
At his lighter tone, the tension in the room broke. Wyatt laughed softly, Isabel did the same. Even Diego cracked a smile.
“So why are you here?” The bluster had left Diego’s voice, replaced with a note of curiosity.
Suddenly, Isabel had a flash of insight. “Your mother...” she said. “Where is she now?”
Gabriel’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “She died about three months ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” Isabel said automatically. She didn’t know Gabriel, but she did know how hard it was to lose a parent. Wyatt rubbed her back gently, and she laid her hand on his thigh. He was no stranger to loss, either. His parents had abandoned him to the care of his grandfather when he was only three. Even though he’d had a happy childhood, she knew their rejection was a source of pain for him.
“Thank you.”
“You have no one else?” Jose guessed.
“That’s right,” Gabriel confirmed.
“So you’re just looking to belong?” Diego said. He put his hands on his hips, suspicious again.
“Partly,” Gabriel said. He sounded a little evasive, which made Isabel frown.
“What do you want, son?” Jose said.
Gabriel blinked at his use of the familial term. Diego pressed his lips together in a thin line, clearly unhappy with his grandfather’s acknowledgment of a blood connection, however informal.
“I want my share of the ranch.” Gabriel’s words hung in the air, small bombs destroying the fragile truce of a moment ago.
“Your share?” Diego was lethally quiet, his body practically emanating black waves. “What makes you think you have a share?”
Gabriel lifted his chin. “I’m a Cruz.”
“Says you. We’re supposed to take your word for it just because you show up here with an old check?” Diego nodded at Abuelo’s desk. “For all I know, you forged that.”
“I didn’t—” Gabriel began, but Diego cut him off.
“Even if you are related, that doesn’t mean squat.”
Gabriel’s thin smile lacked humor. “Is that what you think?”
A frisson of worry shot down Isabel’s spine. If the look on his face was any indication, Gabriel knew something the rest of them didn’t.
She glanced at Abuelo. He was staring into the distance, his attention a million miles away.
“What I think,” Diego said, forcing the words from between his teeth, “is that the Cruz ranch belongs to those of us who work for it. I’ve been breaking my back on this land for the last twenty years. I don’t remember seeing you out in the fields helping to round up cattle or taking care of the first morning feeds.” He leaned forward, fists clenched at his sides. “If you think you can show up here with some crazy story and expect to be added to the business, you’re even dumber than you look.”
Gabriel ignored Diego, turning to look at Abuelo. “What do you say, Grandpa?” He placed a mocking emphasis on the last word, which set Isabel’s teeth on edge.
Jose jumped, shaken out of his reverie. Isabel could see he wasn’t prepared to respond, so she spoke up.
“You don’t look like much of a cowboy to me,” she observed. “Do you even know the first thing about ranching?”
Gabriel turned to face her, staring at her with the same dark brown eyes her father had had. “Well, that’s the th
ing,” he drawled. “I don’t need to.” He spread his hands out. “I’m a reasonable man. As you’ve deduced, I’m not much of a ranch hand. I’ll be happy to take my share of the ranch as cash.” He glanced at Diego. “You can buy me out, and I’ll go away and never bother you again.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Diego said, taking a menacing step forward. “You leave now and I’ll let you walk out of here. If you come back, I’ll consider it trespassing and defend this property and my family accordingly.”
Isabel felt Wyatt tense beside her, clearly ready to jump up to his feet if either man made a move for the other.
Gabriel rose. Wyatt stood, as well, his expression alert. Gabriel gave him a mocking salute.
“I can see we’re at an impasse for now. I’ll give you all some time to consider my offer.” He nodded at Abuelo, then glanced at Isabel and nodded again before moving toward the door.
Diego stepped in his path, blocking the way out. Alarm propelled Isabel out of the love seat, but she needn’t have worried. Wyatt materialized at her brother’s side, his hand on Diego’s shoulder. His lips moved as he murmured something, but she couldn’t tell what he was saying.
Gabriel and Diego eyed each other in silence. Gabriel had his back to her, but she could see Diego’s face and knew her brother was simply looking for an excuse to do violence. Please, don’t give him one, she pleaded silently.
Fortunately, Gabriel didn’t take the bait. He waited patiently as Wyatt continued to speak in Diego’s ear. Finally her brother stepped to the side, but not before shooting Gabriel a look that would have felled a weaker man.
If Gabriel was bothered by Diego’s behavior, he didn’t show it. He settled his hat on his head and touched the brim. “I’ll see myself out,” he said.
Diego turned on his heel as Gabriel left, clearly intent on following the other man. Wyatt held him back. “I’ll go,” he said. “I’ll make sure he leaves.”
Her brother hesitated then nodded. Wyatt walked after Gabriel, his boot heels tapping out a fading cadence as he moved through the house.
Isabel sank back onto the cushion, her breath escaping in a gusty sigh. That had been...intense.
“Is this guy for real?” Diego moved to stand next to Abuelo’s desk. He placed his hands on the worn wood surface and leaned forward, putting the older man in his shadow.
Jose looked miserable. “I think so,” he said softly. He stared at the check on his desk. “I always wondered why it never cleared the bank. I’d assumed she’d lost it.” He shook his head. “Now I know.”
Diego shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re just going to take this guy at his word. Sure, he has the check, but how do we know Dad was really his father? Maybe his mother messed around with a lot of guys.”
Isabel shot her brother a withering look. “Are you blind? He has Dad’s eyes.”
Her brother shrugged, clearly not convinced. “Lots of people have brown eyes. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“A DNA test will give you all the proof you need. If the two of you have the same Y chromosome, he’s one of us.” She didn’t imagine Gabriel would be averse to providing a cheek swab. In fact, he’d probably welcome the chance to prove he was a Cruz, if only to further antagonize Diego.
“No,” muttered Diego. “I don’t care what the DNA says. He’ll never be one of us.”
Isabel looked at Abuelo. Gabriel had been strangely confident he was owed a part of the ranch, and her grandfather hadn’t jumped in to contradict his assertion. What did the pair of them know that she didn’t?
“Why does he think he’s entitled to a share of the ranch?” she asked quietly. “Is there some stipulation we don’t know about regarding how the land is passed down through the generations?”
“There is.” Her grandfather sighed. “The ranch land and business is actually owned by a family trust. When it was created many years ago, the terms of the trust state that any Cruz family member can put forward a claim to a share of the property. Major decisions, such as selling the land or dissolving the business, require a unanimous agreement among all shareholders. But a person can choose to sell their portion of the business to another family member.”
Wyatt slipped into the room and moved to sit next to her again. “He’s gone,” he said softly.
Diego cursed a blue streak. “Why are we just now hearing about this?” he demanded.
“Because until a few minutes ago, I thought the three of us were the only Cruz family members left,” Abuelo said, a bite of temper in his voice. “My brothers are dead and they never married, so you don’t have any cousins. And your father was my only child. As far as I knew, there was no need to go into the details of the family trust, since I didn’t think it would affect you two in the short term.”
Wyatt gave her a questioning look. Isabel shook her head and gave his knee a pat. I’ll fill you in later, she promised silently.
“We have to get the terms of the trust changed,” Diego declared. “Surely there’s a way to do that?”
Abuelo shook his head. “It won’t matter.”
“Why not?” Diego challenged. “I find it hard to believe there’s no way to amend the original terms of the trust.”
“It requires a unanimous vote, doesn’t it?” Isabel said.
Abuelo confirmed her suspicion with a nod. “And there’s no way Gabriel will agree to a change that cuts him out of the deal.”
“Why can’t we change it now?” Diego asked. “He’s not a confirmed Cruz—we could act before we have him take a DNA test.”
“And then his lawyer will come after us and we’ll have to shell out a boatload of money just to go back to the way things were originally,” Isabel pointed out. Not for the first time, she wished her brother would use his head instead of letting his emotions rule.
“I will call the family attorney,” Jose said. “He’ll know what our options are.”
“If any exist,” Isabel said quietly. She didn’t want to be a Negative Nancy, but Gabriel wasn’t going to suddenly change his mind about staking his claim in this family. They were going to have to find a way to adjust to this news and its consequences. Given the fact that she and Diego were still at odds regarding the fracking offer, she didn’t hold out much hope that adding another player to the mix would be an improvement.
“Can you afford to buy him out?” Wyatt gave voice to the question that had been circling through Isabel’s mind for the last several minutes. Once a DNA test proved Gabriel was her half brother—which she figured was just a matter of time—he was entitled to his part of the ranch. Since he and Diego had gotten off to such an inauspicious start, it was probably for the best that they bought him out as he’d requested.
“No.” Diego practically spat out the word. “Not the way things stand now. And I don’t have nearly enough in my personal account for that.”
“Me, neither,” Isabel volunteered. She was still paying off vet school loans, and would be for the foreseeable future. It would be a long time before she accrued any kind of personal wealth, if she ever did.
“Then we’re screwed.”
“Language, mijo.”
They all turned at the sound of Maria’s voice. She’d slipped into the room without anyone noticing. Now she walked over to Abuelo’s desk and put her hand on his shoulder, looking down at him with concern. “¿Como estas?” she asked softly. How are you?
“Estare bien,” said Abuelo. But his tired expression suggested he was anything but fine.
Maria pursed her lips. “Come into the kitchen. I’ve made some tea. It will help you think.” She glanced at Diego. “You get to work. You need to burn off your anger.” Finally, her eyes landed on Isabel. “And you need to rest. You look pale again.”
No one argued. Diego sighed and walked out of the room without saying a word. Maria helped Abuelo stand and the pair of them headed for the
door, leaving Wyatt and Isabel alone together for the first time since they were in her hospital room hours ago.
“Well...” He looked at her, clearly trying to process these recent revelations. “I’m not sure I know what to think about all of this.”
Isabel snorted. “Welcome to the club.”
He studied her face. “Are you all right? That was a lot of new information to process.”
She smiled, touched by his concern. “It’s okay. I kind of always suspected something was off between my parents, but I was too young to realize what it was. Once I grew up some, it didn’t seem like it mattered since they were gone. It sucks to know my dad cheated on my mom, but I can’t do anything to change that.”
“You seem to be taking it a lot better than your brother.”
Isabel tilted her head to the side. “I suppose. But in his defense, he had a different relationship with our dad. I remember him following Dad everywhere, dogging his heels like a small, determined shadow.” Her heart ached a bit at the image of her brother tagging along with their father, staring up at him with a look of abject devotion on his young face. “It’s going to take some time for him to process the fact that his hero was human, after all.”
“Think he wants to talk about it?”
“Maybe?” She wasn’t quite sure. Diego’s mood was volatile at the moment. There was no way to know how he’d respond to Wyatt’s offer of a friendly ear. “I’d give him some time to cool down first. But I think he would appreciate hearing that you’ve got his back.”
“I’ve got yours, too. You know that, right?” He ran the pad of his thumb along her right cheekbone, sending a tingle dancing along her skin.
“I do,” she confirmed. “But I might need you to keep telling me that.” Between the family drama and yesterday’s health scare, Isabel was feeling a little raw.
“Just say the word,” Wyatt promised.
Isabel leaned toward him and rested her forehead on his shoulder. He slipped his arm around her and ran his hand down the valley of her spine in a soothing caress. She closed her eyes, soaking up his touch, breathing in his scent, wishing they could stay like this forever.