She swung off the mare, watching as Esteban strode toward her. He made a striking figure as he covered the ground in long purposeful strides. Her father had introduced them and, clearly, Esteban Eldridge was her father’s choice for her. He’d acted as if he was courting her before the vampire attack, but he had never been truly serious. Esteban obviously liked to have fun and he was a city boy. Cesaro was correct when he’d said Esteban looked down on the ranch workers, barely acknowledging them. How could she fall in love with a man like that?
He had been kind after her father died, showing up often with his sister, Lea, although after her “accident” that left her without the ability to speak, he treated her like many of the others, as if she was unable to hear or maybe even see. Lea, on the other hand was very genuine.
She smiled and waved a second time in greeting.
“Marguarita.” Esteban rolled her name off his tongue easily, taking her hand and holding it briefly to his mouth. “As usual you’re looking lovely.”
She drew the pen and paper from her pocket and wrote: I didn’t expect you today.
“I’ve finally decided I would purchase a few horses and I thought you might come by to take a look at them for me.”
She frowned. He lived in an elegant home on the outskirts of the biggest town near them. He rode, but he wasn’t a big fan of it. He didn’t even have a place to keep the animals. Before she could write down her question, asking what he planned on doing with the horses, he looked around, noting the men out in force, all armed.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Marguarita shrugged and went into the stable where the three very pregnant mares stamped and pawed restlessly in their stalls. She was very aware of Esteban following close to her. She could hear him, feel him, her heightened awareness of Zacarias so vulnerable in the ground making her tense. Ordinarily she welcomed visits from the Eldridge family, especially Lea. Esteban was gentlemanly, but sometimes, his overexaggerated flirtations were annoying when she knew he wasn’t sincere. The men she’d grown up with knew she could ride and shoot as well if not better than them. Esteban made her feel very feminine, treating her like a fragile woman, ignoring the fact that she was very capable. Right now, all she could think about was an imminent attack on the ranch from the worst, most vile enemy possible and she didn’t want Esteban anywhere near the hacienda.
“Your horses have never acted this way,” he observed. “Was there a jaguar close this morning?”
She heard the worry in his voice and it warmed her in spite of the situation. He believed she had survived a jaguar attack, and that her father had died saving her, but she’d lost her vocal cords to the animal ripping her throat. In truth, it had been a vampire attacking, seeking Zacarias’s resting place. She shrugged again, not wanting to lie to him. Writing down a lie was worse even than speaking it.
“Lea said to tell you hello and she hoped to see you soon.”
Marguarita flashed a smile as she opened the stall door and went right in with the mare heavy with foal. She placed her hand on the outstretched neck and sent her waves of reassurance until the horse calmed. Esteban said nothing, just watched as she went from stall to stall, soothing the animals. His presence began to slowly make her uneasy. She felt a kind of dread begin to grow somewhere in the vicinity of the pit of her stomach. It took great effort not to pass her nervousness on to the animals.
Esteban stood quite still outside of each stall, his gaze watchful. The prickle of unease grew until her skin felt as if a thousand pins and needles stabbed into her. She rubbed at her arms as she stepped from the last stall. The horses were eating peacefully and there was no more for her to do. She turned and faced him, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile.
Esteban took her hand and drew her close to him. Strangely the prickling in her skin grew to a burn under the pads of his fingers. She pulled her hand away from him and ran her palms down her thighs to try to rid herself of the sensation.
“I am always astonished at the way you have with horses. They trust you.”
She usually enjoyed his compliments, but right now, with the master so close and vulnerable, she wanted Esteban to be gone. She’d never experienced such unease before, and she was beginning to sweat. She could feel dampness growing between her breasts. The burning on her hand faded, but didn’t stop completely. She moistened her lips and took out her pen and paper.
I’ve always had an affinity with animals. Yes, I’ll come look at your horses in a couple of days. Why are you thinking of purchasing them? You’ve never been interested before. She certainly wouldn’t want to sell one of the beloved Peruvian Paso to him. He never so much as patted them.
His smile was very wide, showing his perfect teeth. “I’ve discovered a love of polo. I’ve been borrowing a friend’s horses and I want my own.”
He sounded very excited, like a young boy. She wanted to be happy for him, to share in his excitement, but he really cared nothing for horses as she did. And there was the main reason for her reluctance to take his suit as seriously as her father wanted. Ricco and Julio both rode horses every day. They cared for and understood them, and they appreciated her love and need to be around the animals as Esteban never would. Esteban Eldridge seemed an affable, likeable man, but he didn’t quite ring true for her. She was surprised her father hadn’t realized that.
Where do you plan to keep your horses?
“My friend, Simon Vargos, said I could keep them at his hacienda.”
She tried not to wince at that. Simon Vargos traveled to various countries playing polo. He spent a lot of time staring at himself on videos, drinking in bars and picking up women, but no time caring for his stock. He employed grooms, but cared little whether or not they did their job.
“Let’s go up to the hacienda and get something hot and discuss a good date,” Esteban suggested. “I don’t know what anyone is thinking having you outside if a jaguar is prowling around.” He put his hand on the small of her back.
Marguarita’s breath caught in her throat as pain jolted through her body. She stepped away from him on the pretense of stroking the mare’s neck before once more taking out her pen and paper. She handed it to him.
Sorry. Too busy. Cesaro needs me. We’ll get together another time.
He frowned, using the same expression on his face when his younger sister, Lea, annoyed him. She’d always thought it rather charming, but now she felt pressured. Nothing seemed right. Her skin was too sensitive, and Esteban was a touchy person.
“Your father would never allow you outside if danger threatened. I need to talk to your man Santos.”
His domineering tone annoyed her. She knew Esteban bossed his sister and had a tendency to be just as overbearing with her. Normally she rolled her eyes and ignored him, but she was too worried about anyone discovering Zacarias was in residence—and what she’d done. Esteban had no idea he was encouraging her to enter the very place where the most dangerous predator slumbered.
We all work for a living, Esteban. It is sweet of you to worry for me, but I was raised to do this.
“You were raised to grace a man’s side, Marguarita, not work until your back breaks.” Ignoring the fact that she was scribbling fast, he continued, “Tell me about this trick you do with the horses. Do you influence them with your mind? Psychically? Lea tells me you can ride without a saddle or bridle and the horse does everything you ask.”
She wasn’t prepared for the question and had to scratch out everything she’d been writing, something she detested. In a conversation, dialogue was back and forth, but few people had the courtesy to wait until she wrote down her responses. It was very frustrating. She was trying to learn sign language, but she was working out of a book and only Cesaro, Julio and Ricco were even attempting to understand.
My presence soothes the horses for some reason.
It was more than her presence, but she didn’t know how to describe communicating with an animal. She’d always been able to calm an animal, to sha
re her emotions with them and they simply responded in kind.
“Can you influence a human being the way you do horses?”
Her gaze jumped to his. Esteban searched her face intently. She frowned as she scribbled her answer. How could I influence human minds?
She didn’t like the turn in conversation. She was always uncomfortable discussing her gift. Her family simply never discussed her ability. They were happy for her to work with the animals on the ranch, but “talking” with horses was not acceptable in a world where many unexplained things could be evil. Her father had recently become interested in whether or not it might be termed a psychic ability but after his death, she didn’t much care what her gift was labeled.
“Don’t be defensive,” Esteban soothed. “Lea and I had a little argument about this. She said you commmunicate with horses. I thought perhaps it was more a meeting of the minds and you somehow influenced them to do as you wish and that maybe you could do the same with people.”
She bit down hard on her lower lip. He was hitting a little too close to the mark.
“Is this some family secret I’ve stumbled onto?” There was amusement in his voice.
She had many family secrets and this one was minuscule in comparison to the others. She realized she was in a foul mood, not wanting to deal with Esteban and his annoying charm when an impending attack from vampires or their puppets was possible.
I’m sorry, Esteban. I really don’t have time for this conversation. I need to get to work. I hope you understand. We can arrange for me to look at your horses another time. To make certain he understood she was finished, she pushed the pen and paper back into her pocket after he’d read her note.
Esteban scowled at her. “I don’t think you’re behaving very well, Marguarita. Your accident doesn’t give you license to be rude.”
He was suddenly too close. She could feel the blast of anger pouring off of him. The stable felt too small, and too far away from everyone. He crowded her until she gave way, stepping back before she could stop herself.
“Marguarita.” The hard male voice had both of them spinning toward the entrance.
Marguarita breathed a sigh of relief.
Julio Santos sat astride his horse, his piercing dark eyes on Esteban as he held out his hand to Marguarita. “You’re needed. Come with me now.”
She didn’t hesitate, moving around Esteban and catching Julio’s wrist. He swung her up behind him. She expected him to start off immediately, but he sat still, regarding Esteban from beneath the brim of his hat. The two men eyed one another for a long, tense moment.
“You good, Marguarita?” Julio asked.
She put her arms around his waist, laid her head against his back and nodded so he could feel the movement. Again she had that strange reaction, her skin burning the moment she made contact with Julio. She jerked her cheek from his back, lifted a hand toward Esteban as if nothing was wrong and, without thinking, silently urged the horse to get out of the stable. Julio was unprepared for the horse’s sudden motion, but he was an excellent rider and moved with the animal.
“Next time warn me.”
She squeezed her arms tighter to say she was sorry.
“Father sent me. He doesn’t like Esteban on the property. He’s still shoving the idea of the two of us at me. I got one hell of a lecture, Marguarita, about how I’m allowing such a treasure to slip away.” He patted her hands with gloved fingers. “Did he do the same to you?” There was sympathy in his voice.
She nodded her head, once again against his back. That horrible burn was much sharper this time and beginning to spread through her arms, although her skin was covered with the material of her blouse. Uncomfortable, she loosened her grip, using her knees to hold on. Julio’s mount was so smooth she doubted if she had needed to take such a precaution.
Julio always made her laugh. She loved him and she had no doubt that he loved her back just as fiercely and protectively—maybe more so. Julio was one of the best men she knew. But they had been raised from birth together and every time someone suggested they pair up, they laughed hysterically together. Although recently, ever since Esteban had come into the picture, Cesaro had pushed them together until it was uncomfortable.
“I’ve tried to explain to him, but he worries now that your father is gone. Esteban doesn’t belong in our world.”
She pulled out her pen and paper. Luckily the ride was smooth and made writing easy. He is incapable of keeping secrets, let alone one as big as the De La Cruz family and what they are.
If she married outside the ranch, she would have to leave it and she would never be able to divulge her family’s secrets to her spouse. Their association with the Carpathians was closely guarded. She knew she wouldn’t remember the De La Cruz brothers, all memories would be removed before she left their properties.
“He doesn’t belong in this world. Why did he come to our small town, Marguarita? People who come here are desperate for another life. They usually have nothing. He’s got money and, to me, that means he’s hiding from something.”
She thought about it for a moment and then scribbled another message. He asked me if I could influence people like I do the horses. Why would he ask that?
“I don’t know. I don’t like it. The De La Cruz brothers can influence people and have used their abilities to gain more property for themselves and for us than most are able to have here. It’s possible he wonders how we were able to get our lands in such large increments.”
She trusted Julio’s judgment as she always had. Julio wasn’t the least bit complicated and he never had hidden agendas. If he tapped on her window in the middle of the night to go riding, it really was to go riding. If he told her he wanted to show her something, it was always something special—usually some wildlife he’d spotted. More than once they’d snuck off together to go into the rain forest to track some animal.
“I’m taking you back to the house once I see him leave,” Julio said. “We’ve got everything settled down, but I’d feel better with you inside. We could be attacked tonight.”
The chance of a vampire attacking while a De La Cruz was in residence was far higher than when they were away.
“Did you see him?” Julio asked. “It has to be the eldest or the cattle and horses wouldn’t react like they have. I’ve never actually spoken with him.”
She didn’t want to lie so she merely nodded her head. Julio glanced at her over his shoulder and raised his eyebrow. He regarded her pale face steadily. She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, her gaze sliding away.
“That scary?”
She nodded.
Julio sighed. “Will you be all right?”
She pressed her lips together tightly and penned a short answer. He won’t notice me——I hope.
She considered telling Julio the truth, but he would go all macho on her and insist on protecting her against Zacarias’s wrath. As frightened as she was—she had disobeyed a direct order—she couldn’t allow anyone else to be punished for her sins. She’d face Zacarias alone and try to explain. Fortunately she had until sundown to find the right words and she’d write it all down. She didn’t expect the Carpathian to understand—she didn’t understand herself—but she would do her best to let him see she hadn’t meant to be defiant.
She nodded her head and Julio turned his attention to riding through the yards, putting his horse through various gaits, showing off that he could control his horse with his hands and knees. She missed laughing. She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged and that took some of the joy away from sharing with Julio.
Only when Esteban’s vehicle disappeared down the road did Julio take her back up to the house. He extended his arm so she could dismount easier, but retained possession of her hand when she went to turn away. That same burning sensation snaked up her arm. She looked up at the boy—no, man—who had been her confidante and companion since birth. He regarded her steadily, looking straight into her eyes.
“What’s wrong, little sister?
I know you too well for you to pretend with me. Did Esteban say something that frightened you? Or is it De La Cruz?”
She swallowed hard. She loved Julio. She refused to lie outright to him. She shook her head slowly as she tried to gently pull her hand from his.
Julio tightened his grip and the burning sensation became more painful, a deep brand that seemed to go to her very bones. She had to fight to keep from crying out and jerking away.
“Tell me.”
She pressed her lips together and slowly tugged until Julio allowed her to slip away. She pulled out her pen and paper and scribbled, unknowing if she told the truth or not.
I will be fine, Julio. I love you very much, but you worry too much.
He continued to stare down at her face for a long moment and then he touched his hat. “I love you, too, little sister. If you need me, ring the bell and I’ll come running.”
She smiled at him, warmth stealing into her cold bones. Of course he would come if she sounded the alarm they’d rigged up. Julio was someone she’d always counted on and she knew he was telling her he would go against the code of their families if necessary to protect her. She put her hand over her heart and watched him ride away, her deep affection for him making her eyes burn and tears clog her throat.
Slowly, she entered the house, her heart beating so hard, she feared she would have a stroke. The empty rooms were silent, accusing, and she wandered around, feeling a little lost in her own home. Eventually, the taste of fear subsided and she cooked herself something to eat and spent the rest of the day writing out long letters to Zacarias, explaining to the best of her ability why she had saved him against his wishes, and then discarding them.
The sun sank and night descended. Insects began their calls in earnest. Frogs chimed in. Horses stamped occasionally and the cattle settled for the night. Storm clouds gathered overhead, dark, ominous roiling masses that blotted out the sliver of moon and stars. Heavy with rain, a few drops fell, a portent of what was to come. Lights went out in windows, one by one, as the workers settled in with their families.
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