Every time she had a question it seemed as though there was yet another secret barring her from knowing the truth. Her father had told her over and over that the truth had no bearing on their relationship, that he loved her and that was all that mattered. But how could she continue to believe him and trust in his love for her when he wouldn’t tell her who she really was?
The thought of walking away from the only family she’d ever known sliced through her like a physical pain. It was almost unthinkable, but if she didn’t find the answers she sought, she didn’t know if she could continue to pretend to be a part of them all. She needed to know the truth, and her father was the only person who could give that to her.
She’d decided this was important enough now to give up a week or more of her classes. Maybe she’d even take a break for the rest of this semester and return to Boston College again in the winter—with the truth in hand and her place in the world all the more secure.
Maya changed lanes and passed a long rig before easing back into the right-hand lane again. While she was eager to find answers, she wasn’t exactly in a mad hurry for this confrontation. After all, she’d waited her lifetime to hear what her father would have to say, if he’d even say it, and she wanted to arrive safely and in one piece.
Thirteen
Cord kicked off his boots in the mudroom and walked into the house, heading immediately to the kitchen refrigerator. He snagged a beer by its neck and strolled back outdoors into the loggia. Damn, even here he couldn’t rid himself of memories of Zoe.
The entire past week he’d been working every hour he could, even going so far as to repaint the sheds. Anything to keep busy and keep his mind off that woman. Thing was, nothing was working. No matter how tired he made himself, she’d inveigle her way into his thoughts.
He threw himself onto one of the outdoor sofas and leaned back to take a long pull of his beer. He grimaced as he swallowed it. Even that didn’t taste any good. A sound from inside the house drew his attention, putting all his senses on alert. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and thieves didn’t usually bother this far out of town. He put his beer down on the table and rose to his feet, carefully opening the kitchen door and moving swiftly and silently through the lower floor.
He heard a sound again. This time there was no mistaking it. It came from the suite of rooms his grandmother had used. He doubted she’d left her valuables behind after the move to Palm Springs, but, either way, he hated the thought of someone pawing through her stuff. He reached for a tall brass candlestick off the hallway table and gripped it firmly in one hand as he carefully pushed the door open.
“Argh!” his grandmother screamed, and she dropped the clothes she’d been lifting from her suitcase on the bed.
She broke into a voluble stream of Spanish, telling her grandson in no uncertain terms precisely how many years he’d just shaved off her life. Cord threw the candlestick onto the bed and stepped forward to grab his grandmother and hug her tight. She was so tiny she barely even reached his chin, but her strong arms folded around his waist, just the way they had always done, and he felt her begin to calm down.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, still stunned to have discovered she was his intruder.
“Bah, Palm Springs. It’s not for me,” she said, tugging herself loose and bending to pick up the scattered clothing. “Maybe it’s nice for a holiday, but I can’t live like that. There’s nothing to do!”
“Isn’t that the point of being retired?” Cord said as he picked up a stray pair of his grandmother’s voluminous underwear and passed them to her.
She snatched them from him with a sniff of disdain. “Retired? That was your father’s idea. Not mine. He’s my son and I love him but...” She shook her head vehemently. “Palm Springs is slowly driving him loco. I don’t know how your mother stands it.”
“But wasn’t Palm Springs her idea?”
His grandmother made a dismissive snort. “Only after your father started talking about it. You know how he always needs to be led. Oh, he’s a hard worker, but he has to be allowed to think things are his idea. When he talked about Palm Springs and retiring, I don’t think either of them had the slightest idea of what it meant. Sure, they’ve made new friends, but it’s not—what is it you people say? Their scene?”
Cord sat on the bed and watched as Abuelita moved around the room, putting her things away.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had enough of being retired. So I came back to take care of you.”
“I’m a grown man, Abuelita. I can take care of myself,” Cord pointed out with a rueful grin.
His grandmother settled onto the comforter beside him. She raised a gnarled hand to his face, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look deep into her eyes.
“If that is so, my boy, then why do you carry so much pain in your eyes? Is it a woman? Let me talk to her. I’ll fix it for you.”
Cord laughed, the first genuine joy he’d felt since he’d slipped from Zoe’s bed and disappeared into the early strains of morning. The thought of Abuelita fronting up to Zoe and giving her a piece of her mind would be worth the price of ringside seats, for sure, but this was his problem and since it couldn’t be dealt with, it would simply have to be left to fade away.
“I see all your easy living hasn’t softened your edges,” he teased her, bending down to kiss the top of her head.
“Don’t try to distract me, Cord. I know when something isn’t right here.” She pressed a fist to her chest. “Tell me.”
“Talking about it won’t fix things,” he said firmly. “We’re too different. We knew it wouldn’t work from the start.”
“But you still got burned, yes?”
He nodded.
“It’s good that you were prepared to open your heart again. I was scared that when you lost Britney, you would never trust yourself to love another woman.” She sighed and patted his cheek before taking his hand. “Tell your abuelita about this woman. Tell me everything.”
“She’s a cop,” he said on a deep sigh and felt his grandmother’s fingers tighten almost painfully around his own.
“Go on,” she prompted.
He told her the story of how they’d met. How unhelpful he’d been, how he’d deliberately distracted her from being able to meet with Jesse.
“And she still agreed to see you? Is the girl mad? I would have run a mile from you.”
“As I remember, you did run several miles from Abuelo. Didn’t he have to come and fetch you to the church on the day of your wedding because you said you’d changed your mind?”
“Pah!” She waved a hand contemptuously. “I needed to be certain he loved me, that is all.”
“And he did.”
Her face softened on a memory. “Yes, he did. But he would have been ashamed of what you have done to this girl. What did you call her? Zoo-ee?”
“Zoe,” he corrected her. “And I was pretty ashamed of myself, too.”
“So did you not apologize?”
“I did.”
“And she didn’t accept it?”
“She did.”
“Then I don’t understand. What is wrong?”
“She lives in Houston. Her whole life is there. Her family, her career. Everything that is important to her.”
“Are you not important to her, too? You young people today. You want it all your own way. You don’t understand compromise. I did not want to leave Mexico, my family, my whole life, to come here to Texas. But your grandfather had a dream, and as his wife it was my role to support him in that dream.”
“I know, Abuelita, and he loved you all the more for that. But I don’t see how Zoe and I can work this out. I went to her, but she made it very clear that her life is in Houston. She won’t budge on that. And I can’t leave all this. You and Abuelo built it up for Dad and for me and future generations of Galicias. I can’t
just walk away. I have a responsibility to our name and to the land.”
His grandmother was silently shaking her head. “Your abuelo never wanted this to be your prison, my boy.”
“It’s not a prison. I love my home. I love what it means to our whole family. I’m honored that it now falls to me to look after the legacy.”
He said the words with vehemence, but the passion behind them was no longer in his heart.
“That might have been true before your Zoo-ee,” his grandmother said with her usual uncanny insightfulness. “But it is not true anymore. I can see why you are unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy,” he protested automatically, but even as he did so, he felt the sharp sting of regret pierce his heart. Regret for what might have been had the circumstances been completely different.
But then again, if circumstances were different, wouldn’t he and Zoe be different people, too? Would they have come together as hastily as they had? Experienced the heights they’d shared? For all that they had no future together, he couldn’t regret a moment of the time they’d had.
* * *
Cord had spent a lot of time thinking since Abuelita’s return a couple of days ago. And he’d come to a decision. After his grandmother had gone to bed, he lifted the phone and called his parents.
The sound of his father’s voice as he picked up the phone in Palm Springs was instantly calming in the way that only a parent could soothe a child, no matter their age.
“Dad, we need to talk,” Cord said after the obligatory greetings had been dealt with.
“This sounds serious. Should I sit down?”
“I can hear the bedsheets, Dad. I know you’re lying down already,” Cord said with a grin.
“What’s up, son?”
“I think you and mom should come back. Take charge of the ranch again. No, hear me out,” Cord interjected as his father started to object. “It’s not that I can’t manage, but I think you left too early. Tell me you’re not bored stupid at the end of every day. Tell me you don’t miss the herd, the land, the work.”
“I don’t miss getting up at dawn every damn day,” his father grumbled.
“So you start your days a little later. But, Dad, come home where you belong.”
“Did Abuelita put you up to this?” Cord’s father demanded.
“No, not at all. It’s been on my mind awhile. You know I’ve been diversifying the herd, raising goats, making goat cheese. I want to expand that side of the business, and I can’t do it on my own, especially if I’m managing the beef herds and breeding program, too. I need you to come back and work the ranch again. Obviously the choice is yours, but there’s a business opportunity that’s opened up for me closer to Houston. To make it work, I need you here. If you’re certain you don’t want to come back, I’ll let that opportunity go, because I could never leave this place without ensuring a Galicia is at the head of operations. I respect my heritage too much to do that. What do you think?”
Cord held his breath as he waited for his father’s response. His dad’s voice was choked with emotion when he spoke.
“I have a good many years left in me, and, yes, while I like the idea of calling my time my own and doing what I want when I want, it took coming here to make me realize that what I want most is whatever’s happening on the ranch. But I made my choice, son. I walked away. The ranch is yours now.”
Cord gripped the phone so tight he thought he might break it. He forced his hand to relax.
“Dad, walk back. Mi casa es su casa, you know that. I never wanted you to go in the first place. When can you get here? Tomorrow?” He laughed, feeling as though a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“Not quite so fast. We have some things to wrap up here, sell the apartment, pack. Maybe the day after tomorrow,” his father joked. In the background, Cord could hear his mother’s excited voice. “Your mother is looking forward to seeing you, too, by the way.”
“I’ve missed you guys. We have a lot to talk about when you get back. You see, I’ve met a girl.”
“A girl? What’s she li—”
In an instant Cord’s mother was on the phone.
“You’ve met a girl? What’s she like? Tell me everything. Well, not everything. But tell me about her.”
Cord fought back a smile. No, he would definitely not be telling his mother everything, but he knew it wouldn’t hurt to have his mother’s perspective on what he planned to do. His feelings for Zoe were too deep for him to take any risks. This had to be perfect, and getting his family on board with the idea was only the first rung on the ladder.
Fourteen
“Flowers for you, Detective,” one of Zoe’s colleagues announced as he brought a large colorful display of blooms to her desk. “Have to say, they brighten things up around here. Maybe they can lift some of that sour expression you’ve been wearing these past two weeks.”
“My expression is none of your business,” Zoe snapped. “Aren’t there some follow-up interviews you’re supposed to be doing?”
Her fellow detective snapped to attention and executed a sharp salute. “Yes, ma’am. Right on it, ma’am.”
She heard him laughing as he left the squad room and fought back a smile of her own. He was a damn fine detective, but he also knew exactly which buttons to push to get her ruffled. You’d think after nine years on the force she’d have developed a tougher hide for this kind of thing, but all it took was something that essentially reminded her she was female to make her even more hard-assed than ever before.
Sour? Really? She was just doing her job. The scent of the flowers tickled her nose and reminded her of what had triggered her current less-than-wonderful mood in the first place. Flowers? Seriously, who sent flowers these days? And why to her work? It wasn’t her birthday or any special anniversary of anything. She eyed the arrangement as if it hid a venomous snake somewhere in the cheerful collection of buds and blossoms and spied the envelope that was buried in their midst.
She yanked the envelope out and flicked open the flap, which already bore evidence of having been opened and read by at least one of her colleagues before being brought to her desk. She groaned. She’d never hear the end of this.
I miss you.
The message was short, sweet and unsigned. She felt a flush of heat tinge her cheeks as she read the three words again. There was only one person who could have sent these to her. Cord Galicia. Well, she’d give him a piece of her mind. She snatched her phone off the desk and started to punch in his number before realizing that she actually knew it by heart. What did that say about her?
Slowly, she put her phone back onto her desk, then rose to her feet and grabbed the flowers and walked out to where the captain’s personal assistant was sitting.
“Here, Josie,” she said, leaving them on the older woman’s desk. “These are for you. A mark of appreciation for all you do for us.”
The woman eyed them carefully before looking up at Zoe. “Weren’t these the flowers that just arrived for you?”
Zoe shrugged. “Busted. But they’re no good for my allergies. Would you like them or should I just toss them?”
Josie looked horrified at the very thought. “You will do no such thing. I’ll drop them at my mother’s care center on the way home. They love a splash of color in their main living room. At least they’ll be appreciated there.”
Zoe didn’t miss the censure in Josie’s voice. It was clear the woman didn’t believe her excuse about allergies and felt she ought to be grateful someone had sent her such an extravagance, but Zoe didn’t do guilt. Life was way too short.
Even so, as she walked back to her desk and shredded the note into confetti before putting the pieces into her trash bin, she couldn’t help but cast her eye back at Josie’s desk for one last look at the flowers.
* * *
The flowers were only the be
ginning. Over the next few days it seemed that Cord had begun a seduction on her, sending small gifts with a thoughtful message each time. A part of her loved them. Who wouldn’t love the sinfully expensive body lotion he’d sent, which paired with her favorite perfume so perfectly, she argued against the inner voice that told her to throw it away. And the small basket of gourmet goodies had been highly appreciated in the squad room at morning break yesterday. In fact, her team was beginning to look forward to the daily deliveries with more anticipation than she did.
But the parcel that arrived today had been the last straw. Despite her best intentions to keep secret the sinfully seductive sapphire-blue silk underwear he’d sent her, the lacy bra and matching thong had slid from their wrapper and onto her desk before she could hide them.
The catcalls and hoots of laughter brought even the captain from his office to see what the fuss was. By then, Zoe had scrunched the pieces into the tissue and summarily dispatched them into her trash bin. Regrettably, the note with the words I would give anything to see you in these had been snatched from her hands and circulated around the squad room before she could grab it back.
At this rate she’d never be taken seriously at work again. It had to stop, and very soon she’d make that call to Cord that she’d been putting off. Tonight, she told herself. As soon as she’d followed up with the crime-scene techs on a piece of evidence they’d finally been able to get to that had been extracted from the Hamm murder scene.
Tangled With A Texan (Texas Cattleman’s Club: Houston Book 8) Page 14