The Last Chance Ranch

by Wind, Ruth

  Ramón chuckled against her lips, moving his hand against her belly. “You know how many times I hear that in a day?”

  She pulled his robe open and curled her hand around him. “It’s a tough life.”

  “Yes, it is.” He kissed her and she moved her hands on him, and Ramón felt awash on her, in their passion. At one point, he took her face in his hands and just looked at her. She opened her long, exotic blue eyes and he saw the stars there, the happiness that had been so long absent, and a physical pain touched him. Slowly, deliberately, he put his lips to hers. So in love, he thought. So in love.

  But he didn’t say it. He only showed her again with the most ancient of movements, the most powerful of body language.

  * * *

  Just before dawn, her alarm went off. Tanya moved to hit the snooze button, then turned back to Ramón, who seemed not to hear it. His heat and satin and scent of desert morning struck her forcibly, and an impossible tingling roved over her nerves. In the stillness she curled up to him, nestling her head against his arm, putting her hand on his flat belly.

  Her body sang. In the pale gray light, she propped her head on her arms and watched him sleep. His face was almost unbearably handsome in sleep, his mouth full and commanding, so exotically his own. And she liked his nose, that high-bridged conquistador’s nose with the elegantly shaped nostrils that flared so tellingly when he was aroused or angry.

  She liked the way his hair sprang back from his forehead, defiant and wild, and liked the forehead itself, for it was high and strong and very intelligent.

  She liked him—the way he moved and talked. The way he could make an entire room of surly teenage boys jump to attention with a single, hawkish lift of one brow. She liked the way he made an old woman giggle, and the devotion he inspired in the animals. A good man.

  He stirred. Wickedly, Tanya took the covers off him so she could admire all of him. He shifted ever so slightly, and she put her hand on his thigh, long and lean, then his knee which was not, she had to admit, the most beautiful she’d ever seen. She moved back up and touched his dark nipples with her tongue, and then leaned over him, her breasts pressing into his arm, to kiss his throat.

  Below her, he stirred, but Tanya continued to tease him awake, fluttering her hands over his manhood, over the thin line of hair on his belly and around the circle of his navel. She kissed his earlobe and stayed to suckle there.

  And then he was making love to her again, his body hot on hers, in hers.

  Afterward, sated once more, they lay in each other’s arms. “I want to tell Tonio who I am,” Tanya said. “It’s important.”

  “Give it a day or two, huh?”

  “What difference will it make?”

  His eyes were grim. “We don’t really know how he’ll react.”

  “It’s better than keeping up this lie, Ramón. It was okay at first, but I think he’s already guessed. You and I will look a lot better in his eyes if we confess before he confronts one of us.”

  Ramón shifted his head on the pillow and rubbed a circle around her hip. “If he doesn’t react well, you’ll have to leave the ranch.”

  Tanya nodded.

  “Let’s just play it by ear, okay?” Ramón said. “There’s been a lot going on the past week or two. Tonio probably doesn’t need anymore complications.”

  She sighed. “I don’t like the lying.”

  “I know.” He sighed, loudly. “You know, I’m being purely selfish. I don’t want to deal with it yet, and that’s the real problem.”

  “I’ll wait a day or two, then, if you want me to.”

  He kissed her. “I want.” As if to underscore the comment, his stomach growled, loudly. They both laughed. “Time to get up, I guess.”

  Tanya stretched, watching him lazily as he pulled on his robe. His body was sinewy, his flesh the color of the burnt sienna crayon she’d loved as a child. He saw her watching him and winked. “I’ll see you downstairs.” He bent over her in the bed and kissed her mouth, then the swell of a breast. “Mmm.”

  She chuckled. “Okay. I have to get moving, too, but I just want one more minute.”

  “Better hurry—it’s almost light.”

  “I will.”

  “Same time, same place tonight?” he asked wickedly.

  “Yes, please.”

  He winked and left her. Tanya sighed happily. This morning, life was exactly what it should be all the time. Heaven. Sheer heaven. She wouldn’t think of Tonio just yet. There was time. What difference could a day or two make?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dear Antonio,

  This is the last letter I will have to write to you.

  Tomorrow, at 10:00 a.m., I will be free of the New Mexico penal system. They’ve even waived parole because my record is so clean, and because I’ve shown myself able to handle the world by living in a halfway house for the past year. It’s almost normal life, the halfway house. Not quite, but enough. I know I’m ready to put this chapter behind me and go forward.

  Ramón has hired me at the ranch, and we’ve decided it would be best for me to ease into your life. He says you feel betrayed, and though it hurts me, I guess I understand. I was so young and broken by the time Victor’s family came after me that I just let you go. I meant to keep you safe, hijo. That’s all. I hope you’ll understand that one of these days.

  In the meantime, I get to actually put my eyes on you again, after more than four thousand days of waiting. Such sweetness is rare.

  We survived, you and I. That’s a lot.

  Love, Mom

  When Ramón came downstairs after a shower, even his skin tingled with afterglow. Whistling, he took the last turn in the stairs and headed for the kitchen, wondering how in the world he’d keep a straight face when he looked at Tanya. How could anyone look at either one of them and not see the newly bloomed love between them?

  A noise in his office halted him and he doubled back to push open the door. Tonio sat in his office chair, a folder open in his hand. A file drawer gaped open—the personnel files. Ramón didn’t have to guess which folder Tonio held.

  Tonio didn’t even startle as Ramón came in. He looked up miserably, tears streaming down his face. “How could you?” he asked, and it wasn’t the sulky challenge of a selfish teenager, but the agonized whisper of betrayal.

  “Damn,” Ramón said, stepping into the room. “Don’t jump to conclusions here, Tonio. Give me a chance to explain.”

  “Explain what? That you lied? That you brought my mother here without telling me and pretended she was somebody else all this time?” He threw the file at Ramón’s feet. Tears still washed over the almost manly cheeks, and his eyes held a terrible light.

  Ramón didn’t move for a moment. “Don’t blame Tanya. She’s been wanting to tell you for weeks.”

  “And you stopped her? Why?”

  And Ramón knew, just that quickly, that he’d been wrong. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “She killed my father! How can you forgive her for that?”

  “It isn’t that simple, Tonio.” He reached for him—and Tonio bolted away, as if in revulsion. Ramón halted, pursed his lips for a moment, thinking, trying to remember what it was like to be fourteen and morally outraged. “Read the whole file.”

  “No!” His eyes slitted. “I want her to leave. I don’t want to see her.”

  “You’re making a mistake, Antonio.”

  The boy abruptly sat down again and put his head in his hands. A sob, all the more painful for the manly rasp it held, broke from his chest. “How could you play such an awful trick on me?”

  Ramón went to him and embraced him, pulling his head into the hollow of his shoulder. “It wasn’t meant to be a trick, Tonio. I swear. I wanted you to get to know her slowly, so you wouldn’t feel put upon to be nice if you didn’t want to. It made a lot of sense at the time. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

  A sound at the door drew his attention. Father and son both raised their heads and sa
w Tanya standing in the doorway, a stricken expression on her face. “It was the song, wasn’t it?” she said quietly. Ramón saw her knuckles were white where she clung to the door. “You heard me singing that song to Zach last night.”

  Tonio jumped to his feet, and Ramón grabbed him, hard. “You gave me away!” Tonio cried, jerking hard at Ramón’s hold on him.

  Tanya nodded. Ramón saw her dark blue eyes fill with tears. But as she stood there, it was as if a straight line pulled her upright. She lifted her chin and met Tonio’s accusatory glare. “Yes,” she said, simply. “I had to.”

  “I hate you! Both of you!” Tonio cried, and he tore free of Ramón’s grip. He bolted toward the door.

  Tanya stepped out of his way. “I’m sorry, Antonio,” she said quietly.

  With a sound of disgust, Tonio brushed by her. They heard his heavy feet on the stairs.

  Tanya took a breath and looked at Ramón. “I’ll pack now. You can take me to town to find a place after breakfast.”

  “He’ll come around.”

  “Maybe.” Her eyes were sad. “I’m not sure I would, in his shoes.”

  Unable to move, Ramón only nodded. Forced to choose between the two of them, he had to choose his child. “He will,” Ramón repeated.

  Tanya didn’t reply—she just turned around and went up the stairs.

  In the quiet left behind, Ramón squatted to pick up the file Tonio had flung at him. A picture of Tanya from prison was stapled to the inside. Her features looked hard, her mouth pinched, and he realized how much she’d changed since her arrival. He moved his finger over the photo. Damn.

  * * *

  It didn’t take Tanya very long to gather her things. Even with the new things she’d purchased with her paycheck, everything she had fit into the prison-issue suitcase the state had given her. As she packed, the tortoiseshell cat played with her things, jumping into the suitcase, then out, then in. “Come on, Snoopy, get,” Tanya said, finally exasperated. She picked up the cat and held him close. His fur smelled faintly of cinnamon and sunshine, and Tanya knew Desmary had been holding the cat sometime this morning, too. It gave her an unexpected burst of homesickness.

  She loved the ranch! She loved working with the boys, loved cooking with Desmary, loved her room with its high view and beautiful curtains. She loved running in the morning across the desert, and sitting at the supper table with Tonio and Ramón.

  A piercing ache moved through her. Tonio. She’d been dreading this very thing, and now there was nothing to be done but clean up the pieces. She most adamantly did not want to leave the presence of her son, not after so long a time of not seeing him, but there was no choice. At least now he knew. She could live in Manzanares and work there, and be close to him, anyway.

  Close to both of them.

  She would miss every tiny little thing there was about this place. In a few short weeks, it had become her home more fully than any place she’d ever lived. She wished she could let her roots settle here, grow long and deep in the sandy soil. In time, she might even have learned to pluck a chicken.

  Against the ache in her heart, she placed practicality. Sometimes things didn’t work out the way you wanted, but you didn’t stop living because of it. She had her freedom, and the dignity of knowing she had an honest trade to offer the world. Perhaps one of the cafés in town would hire her.

  However all this ended, the Last Chance Ranch had truly given her a fair chance at life, renewing her resolve and determination, giving her a chance to love herself again. In doing so, she’d reclaimed the dignity that had been lost so long ago. Whatever else happened, that was worth coming here.

  From the bottom drawer of the dresser, she took a stack of letters tied with string. Each was in an envelope, just as if she were going to mail it—but of course, she hadn’t. She’d only written them, and put them away. And now she’d give them to the boy for whom they’d been intended. It was all she had to give him. The only way he’d understand.

  Firmly, she closed the suitcase, made her bed, and then marched downstairs, her chin up. At the very least, she’d go with dignity. Ramón, looking bleak, took the letters from her as if accepting a sacred trust. “I’ll see that he gets them,” he said. His voice was raw.

  In town, he saw her settled into the single decent hotel, over the diner, and paid her bill for a week, then walked upstairs with her. “I can manage from here,” Tanya said, taking the key from him in the hall.

  He watched her open the door, and set her suitcase just inside in the foyer. “I hate this,” he said.

  Tanya clenched her teeth, willing herself to be as calm as she could be, but waves of lonely protest washed through her as she stood there. “Me, too.”

  “Damn,” he said, and pulled her close. “Maybe it won’t be long.”

  She closed her eyes, smelling the tang of autumn in his jacket. His hair touched her forehead. For one long, indulgent moment, Tanya allowed herself to glory in his touch, in the wonder that was Ramón. She loved him. Deeply. And there was nothing she could do about it. She had chosen him to raise Antonio because she’d known he would put Antonio’s welfare above everything else, as any good parent would do. Now she could hardly cry foul when he was doing exactly that.

  “I wish things were different,” she whispered. “I wish we’d told him the truth from the beginning.”

  Ramón pulled back and held her by her arms. “No, you don’t. He would never have spoken to you, Tanya. Not one word. You have to trust me that we did the right thing.”

  She nodded. Plucking at his coat, she said, “You’d better get back.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He gave her another quick hug, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then, as if he didn’t trust himself, he hurried away. Tanya watched until the top of his head disappeared down the stairs.

  * * *

  After a subdued supper through which Tonio didn’t speak one word unless he was spoken to first, Ramón called the boy into his office and gave him the letters.

  “What is this?”

  “Tanya…your mother wrote them from prison. To you.”

  Tonio tossed the packet back on Ramón’s desk. “I don’t want them.”

  Grimly, Ramón picked them up and lifted Tonio’s hand and put the two together. “They’re all you have—your only legacy.”

  Tonio stared at him, unmoving, and the dark blue stillness reminded Ramón deeply of Tanya. “What am I supposed to do with them?”

  “How about read them? Damn, Tonio, don’t be so hard.” He shook his head. “I’ve tried to never say anything too bad about Victor, your father, but it’s time you really understood the truth.”

  “Don’t bring him into it.”

  “I have to, Antonio.” He stood up and walked to the window, where he stared at the night beyond. “He was mean, Tonio. Meaner than Edwin by a long shot. He was insanely jealous about your mother, too. She couldn’t even talk to anyone else. When she finally left him because of his cruelty, he stalked her, over and over again. You know some of this, but I don’t think you’ve given it enough thought.”

  There was suspicious moisture in Tonio’s eyes again, and he blinked hard, finally looking down to the packet in his hands. “I don’t remember either one of them,” he said. “I just remember shouting. Screaming. My mother’s long blond hair.”

  “You’re old enough to know now, Antonio,” Ramón said, turning to face him.

  The boy’s mouth was tight. “I don’t want to know.”

  “It won’t go away, son. Better to face it and get it over with now. You take those letters and read them.”

  “None of this little speech changes the fact that you lied to me.”

  “You’re right.” He crossed his arms. “But let’s be real honest with ourselves, eh? When I got the first letter from her, asking if she could see you when she got out, you’d just spent an afternoon with your Tía Luna, and she spent the whole time poisoning
your mind against your mother. Your father’s family always did that. They hate your mother. If I’d brought Tanya in here and introduced her as your mother, you would have spit on her feet and refused to try to learn anything about her.”

  Tonio said nothing, just rubbed a thumb over the edge of the letters.

  “You know I’m right, Tonio. You just don’t want to admit there might be a reason to bend the rules once in a while. I practice honesty with you as much as I can, but you don’t necessarily need to know everything.”

  Begrudgingly, Tonio nodded.

  “You can go now, if you want,” Ramón said. “Unless you want to play a round of chess or something.”

  “No, thanks.” Tonio tapped the letters with his fingers, and Ramón knew he’d won. At least Tonio would read them. At least he’d know the truth. That was a lot more than most people got.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dear Antonio,

  It’s my birthday today. I’m twenty-two. We went to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal, then I took you to a movie—Bambi, out for a special showing. I hope you remember seeing it. It’s a good movie. One I’ve always liked, even if the part about the mother is sad.

  When we got home, I found all my china plates smashed to bits, and I know Victor, your father, has been here, and that he will be back. I don’t know what will happen, but I want you to have this, so you know how much I love you, how special you are. Of all the things that have happened to me, you’re the best.

  I remember the night you were born. It was already midnight. You just barely made it on the tenth, eight minutes before the day changed. There had been so much noise and activity, but then everyone left. All the nurses and doctors and Victor and his family. And it was just you and I. They wanted to give you a bottle because you were so big they said my milk wouldn’t be enough, but one kind nurse left you with me and said it wouldn’t hurt anything if I nursed you, that if you were hungry later, they could always give you a bottle then.

  So there we were in that quiet room that had been so loud, just you and me. You curled your fist and put it on my breast as you nursed and looked at me with those big, big eyes. Even then you had the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen, and a thick head of hair that was still wet from being inside of me. There was this big fat lump in my chest right then, like nothing could ever go wrong again, not as long as you were my child. And just as I thought that, you let go of nursing and took a great big breath and sighed, like you felt that way, too.