by Diana Palmer
“Thank you, sweetie,” Sarah said. “I love being part of your family.” She hesitated. “Have you spoken to Hayes?”
“Yes.”
“He was very quiet when I took his breakfast up, while you got the kids to school,” she said.
“He knew about my father,” Minette said.
“I’m so sorry. If I’d known, I’d have told you.”
“I know that. Thanks.” She smiled. “Hayes said he promised his father he’d never tell me, but he knew. That’s why he blamed me all these years for Bobby. It wasn’t what I’d done, it was what my father had done—supplying the drugs that killed his brother.”
“I think Hayes blames himself, too,” Sarah said very quietly. “I know I blamed myself when my husband died. I thought maybe I could have done things differently and maybe he wouldn’t have gambled so much.”
“We can’t change the past,” Minette said. “No matter how much we’d like to. We have to go on living.”
“You’re right.”
Minette finished her coffee. “I have to call Bill at the office and get him to take over for me today. I’m going to be busy.”
“Doing what, or should I ask?” Sarah wondered.
Minette smiled. “Something crazy, and don’t you dare tell Hayes. I’m going to see my father....”
“Not without me, you aren’t,” Hayes assured her, coming into the room fully dressed. He was wearing his uniform. He was still pale and a little wobbly, but he looked almost normal. His hair was neatly combed and he smelled of sexy, spicy aftershave.
“This isn’t a good idea,” she began.
“Copper said it was fine. He thinks it won’t hurt for me to move around a bit, keep my lungs clear.”
“Did you tell him where you were planning to move around to?” she asked.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt me,” he said with a grin.
She laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Totally. Shall we go?” He gave her a speaking look when she hesitated. “You’re not going to sneak over there by yourself. And shame on you, when I told you last night I’d go with you.”
She grimaced and averted her eyes, coloring just a little as she recalled what the two of them had been doing the night before. Hayes saw that, and laughed softly.
She got up from the table, all flustered. “Just a sec, I have to call Bill,” she said.
“Okay. I’ll wait.”
“Won’t take but a moment.” And it didn’t, she called him on her cell phone, told him what she’d like done and hung up. “See?”
“Nice. I like delegating, too,” he said. “Saves time.”
“Bill can handle anything I can handle. It’s just sending Jerry around to get ads and having Arly assign our two reporters to the top stories.” She grimaced. “Mostly it’s just high school sports. I hate most sports, but local people love them.”
“I like soccer,” Hayes remarked.
Her eyes brightened. “So do I!”
He grinned.
Sarah looked from one of them to the other with her lips pursed. They probably didn’t realize it, but their expressions were telling her things.
“We should go,” Minette said after a minute. “Should we let him know we’re coming?”
Hayes glanced around the room. “Oh, I expect he knows already. Come on. Who’s driving?”
“I’m driving,” she assured him. “You’d put us in the ditch with your shoulder in that kind of shape.”
“Spoilsport. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I’ll look for it later. I’m still driving.”
* * *
She stopped at Cy Parks’s house on the way, because Hayes wanted to talk to him. Cy’s wife, Lisa, let them in with a big smile. She was blonde, like Minette, with pale eyes and she wore glasses. But she was pretty. The Parks had two children, both of whom were now in school.
“The house is a wreck,” Lisa said apologetically. “We’ve got wall-to-wall toys because the power went out last night and we had to keep the kids occupied somehow!”
“It didn’t go out at our place,” Minette said.
“Yes, well, one of your ranch hands didn’t get drunk and run into a utility pole, either, did he?” Cy drawled as he joined them. He was tall and dark haired, with green eyes. He favored his left arm, and the hand that peered out from under the shirt showed signs of having suffered burns in the past. Most people knew that he’d run into his burning house in another state in a vain attempt to save his wife and child. A drug lord, the late Lopez, had sent an assassin. Cy had more reason than most to hate drug dealers.
He put an arm around Lisa and bent to kiss the top of her head. “That cowboy will be looking for work today, too. I don’t tolerate alcohol here.”
“I thought everybody in Texas knew that,” Hayes chuckled.
“Apparently one man didn’t.” Cy motioned them into the living room.
“Coffee?” Lisa asked.
“Yes, thanks,” Hayes said.
“Love one, thanks,” Minette said. “I didn’t get my second cup at home this morning because somebody was impatient to leave home,” she looked pointedly at Hayes.
“I’m always in a hurry,” he mused, grinning.
“I heard you were staying with her,” Cy remarked as Lisa went to make a fresh pot of coffee. “I thought my ears were going.”
Hayes glanced at Minette apologetically. “That was my fault. I’ve been trying to make up for things.”
Minette averted her eyes. “We’ve...I’ve,” she corrected, “had some pretty shocking news.”
“Yes, El Jefe’s your dad,” Cy said grimly.
“Does everybody know?” Minette cried, throwing up her hands.
“Depends on your definition of everybody,” Cy returned with a gentle smile. “It’s my business to know things. Eb Scott’s, too. We’re providing some high-tech security for you. El Jefe approves. He’s got someone in the woods at night, keeping an eye out. Word is that Hayes, here, has got a guy watching you, too.” He sighed. “I hope they don’t all stumble into each other one dark night and start shooting.”
“Me, too,” Hayes agreed, “but we have to do what we can to keep her safe. More people means more security.”
“I agree.”
“Why did you go to see El Jefe?” Hayes asked.
Cy pursed his lips. “Friendly neighborly visit?”
Hayes gave him a bland look.
Cy shrugged. “I wanted him to know that I knew who he was.”
“He knows who you are, too,” Minette replied. “He said so when he called me last night to tell me he was my father.”
Cy grimaced. “I can imagine that it came as something of a shock,” he replied.
“That’s an understatement,” she said.
“No doubt. Well, I wanted him to be aware of how I feel about drug trafficking and having it next door to my prize Santa Gerts. He was shocked that I would think he’d expose his prize-winning thoroughbred horses to such things.”
“Excuse me?” Hayes replied with a stunned expression.
“He said that his business and his private life are kept quite separate. He’s broken no laws in the United States and has no intention of doing business here.” He leaned forward. “He says that he has people on his payroll across the border who do all the legwork for him. He doesn’t want any legal complications from the DEA. For whom, it seems, he has a great deal of respect.”
“So do I,” Hayes replied. “I’ve known several of their agents. They’re very good.”
Cy nodded.
Lisa came in bearing a tray laden with coffee, mugs and all the accessories. “Don’t fight over it,” she laughed. “I can make more.”
“I never fight over coffee. Well, unless it’s latté,” Minette informed her. “And I make my own at home.” She grinned. Lisa laughed.
Hayes stared at her. “I’m hurt. You know I love latté and you’ve never offered me a cup of it.”
“Lies,” she said. “I gave some to you and I even tried to make Zack drink it when he came over to talk to you.”
“I’d forgotten. Sorry. I absolve you from all guilt.”
“I should hope so! I treat my houseguests with great care, I’ll have you know.”
They smiled at each other. So did Lisa and Cy. The attraction between Hayes and Minette was very obvious.
“Ahem,” Hayes cleared his throat, because Cy was giving him a knowing look, “back to El Jefe, then.”
“Anyway, he gave me some information about El Ladrón’s connections. I’ll gladly share them.”
“Mind sharing them with Rodrigo Ramirez and Alexander Cobb?”
“Our friendly local DEA.” Cy nodded. “Of course.” He glanced at Minette. “I’m sure this has been traumatic for you.”
“Very,” she replied. She took a breath. “Very upsetting.”
“We aren’t responsible for what people we’re related to do,” Cy instructed.
She grimaced. “Bad blood is bad blood.”
“There are worse criminals than your father,” Cy replied. “He is, in a sense, a prince among thieves.”
She managed a wan smile. “Thanks.”
“He’ll know you’re coming, I imagine,” Cy sighed.
Minette finished her coffee and stood up. “In that case, I hope he knows that I like latté!” She emphasized the last word, looking around the room for invisible bugs.
The men just laughed.
* * *
They pulled up at the front door of the house that was just getting the finishing touches on the property adjoining Cy’s. It had a steel structure and had been erected in an incredibly short amount of time with many prefab materials. It was huge and glorious, painted a pale sand color, with elegant arches and an enormous fountain at the semicircular front driveway that led to the front door.
“No porch swing,” Hayes murmured. “How can people build a house without a front porch?”
A tall man with graying thick black hair, black eyes, a mustache and a big white smile came out onto the driveway. “The front porch is in the back, amigo,” he chuckled, “where an assassin would have a hard time trying to hit me! I am Diego Baroja Sanchez. El Jefe.” He held out his hand, and Hayes shook it. “It is good to meet you, Sheriff.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Hayes mused.
Diego looked at the child he’d never seen with a myriad of expressions. He moved closer, his eyes becoming teary. “You are the image of her,” he said huskily. “You look just as your mother did at your age, except that you have my eyes instead of hers. She was beautiful. But of all her beauty, it was her hair that I loved most, next to her warm heart. She had hair like a princess in a fairy world. Hair like yours.”
Minette was stunned. She hadn’t expected this reaction.
“I am your father,” he said quietly. “And I am most honored to meet you, face-to-face.”
She didn’t know what to say. “I...it’s nice to meet you, too,” she stammered.
He sighed. He smiled. “Please. My house is your house.” He motioned them inside. “And also,” he whispered, “I have latté.”
She burst out laughing.
They sat down in an elegant living room, swathed in satin and white carpet, with exquisite hand-carved furniture in Mediterranean shades, leather-covered chairs and a grand piano.
“You play?” Minette asked, aghast.
He nodded. “I am most fond of classic blues, but I can also play the masters,” he chuckled. “Music is my passion. Your mother, also, was musical.”
“She was?” Minette asked dubiously.
“But, of course. She could play the stereo. Also several radio stations.” He grinned.
Minette laughed. Her mother couldn’t carry a tune. She did remember that, at least.
The older man studied Hayes Carson. “The wound, it is healing?”
Hayes nodded. He sat back, wincing a little. “Slowly, however. It seems age has a part to play in healing.”
“Ah, but you are still young.”
“Only in terms of mountains,” Hayes sighed. “I’m young for a mountain. Ancient for a fruit fly. On the wrong side of thirty for a human.”
The other man smiled. “Age is part of the process. We learn to adjust.” He indicated himself with an elegant, well-groomed hand. “I can no longer beat my men on the soccer field, but I have learned to be a very good referee. And they have learned better curses.”
They laughed.
Minette studied him, looking for similarities. She had his nose and eyes. She was tall, as he was.
He noticed her doing that, and smiled with real affection. “We resemble each other, yes? That pleases me very much. But you are still the image of your beautiful mother. I miss her every day, as I always will. She was my heart.”
“She was mine, too,” Minette said sadly.
“And so you have the little brother and sister, who are not even of your blood, but you care for them as though they were your own.” It was a question.
“My stepmother, Dawn, was a wonderful, loving person. After my mother died, it was just me and my stepfather. He was very good to me. I always knew that he wasn’t my real father, but he said that when you raise a child, it’s yours, blood or no blood.”
He nodded. “I am most grateful to him for the very good job he did of bringing you up,” he said with sincerity. “I had heard that your mother bore a child to her husband, but your mother did not share with me the fact of her pregnancy before I got her out of Mexico. In truth, it was a terrible time. I sent her away, sent people to make arrangements for her safety, for a place to live, and to insure that she would never be connected with me in any way.” He shook his head. “The worst part, the hardest part, was that I had to divorce her in Mexico, where we were living at the time. I am Catholic, you see, divorce was frowned upon at the time, as it still is, in many ways.”
Minette’s heart leaped. “You were legally married to her?”
He glowered. “I am a decent man,” he said quietly. “Honor is everything to me. I would never have compromised an innocent young woman without offering her the sanctity of marriage. It goes against my faith.”
She smiled warmly. “Now I know that being a dinosaur is genetic,” she said, amused.
“¿Qué?” he asked, uncertain of the meaning.
She laughed. “I am very old-fashioned,” she explained. “I don’t move with the times.”
“Ah, I see,” he said, smiling. “You are not as many of these modern women who think it is good to enjoy many men without benefit of clergy.” He nodded. “In my youth, this was a trend that had just begun, in California, with the ‘hippies.’”
“My mother always talked about ‘flower children,’” she laughed. “She didn’t like their morals, but she loved the feeling they had for the earth and nature and growing things. We always kept a garden while she lived, and she planted flowers in every available space. After she died,” she said sadly, “my stepfather continued the tradition. And now I keep it, in memory of her. She loved sunflowers, so I plant them everywhere.”
His eyes were sad. “Yes. Sunflowers. I often brought her bouquets of them when I came home. She said they smelled of happiness.”
“Yes!” she laughed. It was a wonderful, shared memory.
“It broke my heart to let her go. But if she had stayed with me, she would have died. I had no idea she was pregnant. She never told me. That would have been like her, to protect me. It was so painful, the thought of never seeing her again.” He winced. “You see, I did not dare to contact her, or send investigators to find her, even after the danger was over. Because by then, I was very deep into the international underworld, and I had involved myself with the trade in South America, where I went to live. Inquiries cause comment, which can provoke action. Anyone close to me is in danger.” His dark eyes narrowed. “And that includes, unfortunately, the daughter of whom I was unaware of until very, very recently. My
worst enemy sent investigators to find you, which is why I hired my own.” He shook his head. “You see now what would have happened with your mother, God rest her precious soul, if I had attempted to locate her after she left. One investigator can invite much trouble, because I am always watched now.”
She looked around nervously.
El Jefe laughed. “No. Not here. I have a most amazing enforcer.” He glanced toward the door and let out a dialogue of Spanish toward an elderly woman in a beautiful white dress that came to her knees, embroidered in bright colors. It was the prettiest dress Minette had ever seen, she couldn’t help staring.
The woman, whose gray-streaked black hair fell to her waist like a thick curtain, saw her interest and grinned. She said something to the boss.
El Jefe burst out laughing. “Lucienda says you like her dress, is this so?”
“Oh, yes, it’s so beautiful. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to stare,” she said, self-consciously.
“This is the costume of my people. I am Mayan. I come from Cancún in Quintana Roo. Quintana Roo is a state in the Yucatán Peninsula of Mexico,” Lucienda explained in very precise English. She smiled, turning around for Minette’s benefit. “I am very proud of my heritage. It pleases me that you like my clothes. I did the embroidery myself.”
“It must have taken weeks,” Minette said.
“Oh, yes, but this is a labor of love.” Lucienda moved closer so that Minette could see the exquisite detail of the embroidered flowers, mostly red, and the accompanying leaves and swirls and stitching.
“I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” Minette sighed. “It is just so beautiful!”
“Thank you.”
El Jefe was studying his daughter with keen eyes. “So many of your people in these difficult times are hostile to our culture. You are not.”
Minette’s eyes were soft. “I learned long ago, from my mother, that we measure people by character and kindness, not color or race or beliefs. She said that the earth is like a gigantic flower garden. We are the flowers. We come in all shapes and sizes and colors, and God loves us all.” She laughed. “That’s what I think, too.”
“And I. You are very much like your father,” Lucienda said gently. She glanced at Diego. “I will go and fetch Señor Lassiter.”