The Last Chance Ranch (6 page)

“Thanks.”

Dear Antonio,

One of the last warm days of the year. I spent the last few days roasting and peeling chilies, and my fingers are blistered. I don’t mind, though. I love the smell of them roasting.

I wonder what foods you like to eat. When you were a baby, you ate so many strawberries you got allergic to them. And you liked pork and beans and McDonald’s hamburgers and candy. But you were still so little then, it isn’t like big kid eating. Like having your own set of favorites and dislikes that isn’t like anyone else’s. I hate egg whites, you know that? And milk and okra. I love chilies and tomatoes and lots of fresh vegetables. I’m pretty good in the kitchen, too. That’s where I’ve been working lately. It’s a good place.

You be sure to eat all your vegetables. They give you clear skin and good vision and strong bones.

Love, Mom

A
fter breakfast, Tanya chopped vegetables for the stew they would all eat for supper—fresh green peppers, some late cabbage and broccoli, and tender fresh carrots. Desmary, sitting on her high stool, gazed out the window as she kneaded bread on the counter. Tanya hummed softly a tune from childhood, about a woman who got married the day before she died.

“That’s such a happy sound, that humming,” Desmary said, flashing a smile over her shoulder. “Makes me think of my youth.”

Tanya grinned. “Not everyone shares your enjoyment. I’ve been told very bluntly to shut up.”

“People just get used to things being a certain way. The kids now, they don’t have people sing to them. Their mothers turn on the radio when they do chores. Mine used to sing.” With a deft move of her wrists, she flipped the bread dough twist and looked at Tanya. “Amazing Grace.”

From the short hallway that led to the communal dining room for the boys and the counselors came a child. It was the same little boy who’d been on the porch the day of Tanya’s arrival. His name was Zach and he was in trouble almost all the time, and Tanya felt sorry for him. She had asked if he could be assigned to the kitchen more often, and the counselors had only been too happy to do it. For some reason, Zach calmed a little in her presence.

In his arms he carried a basket of green Anaheim peppers, long and shiny and freshly picked. Behind him came a second boy and two counselors, all bearing bushels of peppers. Desmary caught sight of them and made a noise of frustration. “I haven’t seen so many peppers in one season in years!” She put her knife down and came over, her rolling gait obviously more painful than usual. With a gnarled finger, she poked the flesh of the peppers and sighed. “They have to get done right away. We’ll have the apples to do this weekend.”

“Apples?” Tanya echoed.

With a gloomy look, Desmary nodded. “We’ll sell most of them, but some get put up in cider and butter.” She snapped her fingers in annoyance. “Which reminds me—I’ve got to get Ramón to pick up some canning jars for me.”

Tanya looked at the piles of peppers and realized she couldn’t leave Desmary to fend for herself. She couldn’t possibly go with Ramón to town this afternoon. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved.

To the counselors, she said, “We need a few boys to peel chilies this evening. Can you send about four or five over after supper?”

David winked. “Sure.” He touched Zach’s head. “Come on, kid.”

Zach shot the man a glowering look and didn’t move. His bristly blond flattop had been recently trimmed and stood at rigid attention over the top of his head. Freckles dotted his small nose.

“Can I keep him in here a little while?” Tanya asked. “I need some help getting these washed.”

“I guess it won’t hurt. Zach, you’ll be in reading class in an hour—are we clear?”

“Yessir.”

The counselors left. Desmary peered at the table with a look of great doom on her face. “I hate chilies,” she said. “What kind of fool vegetable is that, anyway? One that burns you?”

Tanya touched her shoulder. “I’ll take care of them. Why don’t you take a little rest?”

“No, you need help this morning.”

“No I don’t.” Gently, she turned Desmary around. “I’ll get Ramón in here to help me with lunch. Zach is going to help me with washing the chilies, and I can get them roasted this afternoon. The boys will peel them tonight.”

Desmary looked at Tanya for a long moment. “You’re supposed to go to town with Ramón today.”

She shrugged. “We’ll go tomorrow. And I’ll get you some canning jars.”

Moving with deep stiffness, Desmary removed her apron and limped toward her rooms. “Call me if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine,” Tanya said, giving Zach a wink. When they were alone, she lifted a bushel basket of chilies and carried them to the big stainless steel sink. “You bring them over here, Zach, and I’ll wash.”

“Okay.”

“What are you doing home this morning?” He carefully put the basket at her feet and straightened. “Got suspended yesterday.”

“Uh-oh.” Giving him an exaggerated frown over her shoulder, Tanya turned on the water in the sink and upturned a basket of chilies. “What happened?”

“That jerk Jimmy Trujillo called me names again.”

“And you got suspended?”

A frown drew his sandy-colored brows into a V. “No. I hit him and broke one of his teeth.”

“Didn’t that hurt your hand?”

Zach leaned forward. “Look,” he said, pointing to a gash on his knuckles. “That’s what happened.”

Very seriously, Tanya took the proffered hand and peered at the cut. It was healing nicely, but she hung on to his hand while she patted her apron pocket. “I think you need a bandage.”

“Naw,” Zach protested, but he didn’t pull away.

Tanya located a Band-Aid—she kept them there for the small cutting knife wounds that inexperienced cooks naturally acquired—and covered the gash on Zach’s knuckles. Still she didn’t let go, examining his fingers and palm. “Your hands are getting chapped. You need to keep lotion on them.”

“Okay.” He leaned on the counter to watch her wash the chilies. “Whatcha gonna do with those?”

“Roast and peel them,” she said.

“Can I help?”

“For a little while.” Tanya looked at the clock. “You mustn’t forget your class.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

Tanya smiled at him, feeling a warm stir touch her heart. “I know.”

* * *

Ramón found himself rushing through his chores, anxious to get everything done in time to give himself a little break this afternoon with Tanya. For several days, he’d been searching for an excuse to be with her for a few hours—just to see how she was adjusting.

Yeah, right.

He sucked in a breath. Truth was, this morning she’d been almost more gorgeous than a woman had a right to be, her hair swinging, her color high with her exercise, her legs hard beneath the sweats, her breasts moving under the—

No, he’d leave that thought alone.

Pounding a nail into the broken bit of fence he was mending, Ramón cursed. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had his share of women, although he did have to be discreet. In order to provide a good example, he didn’t stay out all night or bring women out here to sleep with him.

Not that a man had to stay out all night to have his needs met. But the truth was, Ramón didn’t like to have sex casually. It always seemed to him sex was too intimate and revealing for anything except the deepest of relationships. Last spring, he’d broken off a long-term relationship with a teacher in Manzanares when she had finally admitted she didn’t think she could stand to live at the ranch with all those boys and still pursue her own career in teaching as well as raise kids of her own. He’d understood, and had not been particularly brokenhearted. Their relationship had been close and well matched, but had there ever really been a fire?

Slam, slam, slam. He pounded nails into the fence, scaring a pair of quails from a nearby scrub oak. They flittered into the morning with noises of surprise and alarm.

Ten days Tanya had been here. Only ten days, and already Ramón had started spinning naughty fantasies about her naked body. Which would have been all right except for a couple of small details.

The most difficult aspect of the whole thing was that she was Tonio’s mother—and Tonio didn’t know that. When and if he found out, if they felt right about revealing that to him, things might go well or they might not. If Tonio felt betrayed—and the possibility definitely existed—then Ramón’s first obligation was to Tonio. It had to be.

He took a nail from the bag around his waist and positioned it. Tonio had been told his mother’s story…and professed an understanding of it, but Ramón knew the understanding was purely intellectual. Emotionally, the boy still felt his mother hadn’t wanted him. Only time and maturity could change that.

The other problem was much larger and had to do with Tanya herself. When Ramón met her, she’d been eighteen and pregnant. She and Victor had been together for more than three years even then—since a fourteen-year-old Tanya had moved to Albuquerque. At nineteen, she’d divorced him. At barely twenty-two, after more than two solid years of being stalked unceasingly, Tanya had killed him.

And went to prison.

Eleven years later, the girl was a woman, but a woman who’d never had a chance to experience the full freedom of adulthood. Living on her own, making her own choices, being in charge of everything. He wanted her to have that if she wanted it. He didn’t want to take advantage of her trust in him, or her gratitude to him for caring for Antonio all these years. What he wanted was impossible—an unencumbered Tanya and an unfettered Ramón to meet when he was twenty-three and she was twenty. He wanted to go back in time, to rescue her from her nightmare before it ruined her life.

Impossible.

He stopped pounding and looked at the bright blue New Mexico sky above the dun and red and sage of the land. Was he chasing some dream of the past? Was he acting out of guilt? Were his feelings even genuine?

He didn’t know. Until he did, he’d do his best to keep his physical attraction to himself. There was no reason in the world they couldn’t just be friends for now. It was the best choice.

A boy on horseback approached. “Mr. Quezada, they need you in the kitchen.”

“Did they say why?”

The boy grinned. “They’ve got chilies to the ceiling. Ms. Bishop says she can’t go to town today, but maybe you could come help with the chilies.”

Ramón was aware of a sharp, pricking sense of disappointment in his chest. But he nodded. “Thanks, Porfie.”

* * *

With Ramón’s help, Tanya got lunch on the table and cleaned up without incident. Afterward, they started roasting chilies.

Tanya peeked into the oven, careful to keep her face back from the wave of heat that rolled out. The chilies swelled and made tiny noises as steam escaped from within, the green tubes rising and falling as air escaped. The skin was beginning to toast, but this batch wasn’t quite done.

From behind her, almost directly at her shoulder, Ramón said, “They look like they’re breathing, don’t they?”

She looked at the chilies again. Rising and falling, like little green lungs. “I never noticed that before. You’re right.”

“They scream, too—listen.”

A soft high sound of escaping air slowly filtered from the chilies. Tanya straightened with an exaggerated wince of horror. “Yuck!”

He stood rather close, close enough for her arm to brush his as she stood up, but he didn’t move away. “I used to run away and hide in my room when my
abuelita
roasted chilies. I think someone should write a story about the chili monster for kids in the Southwest.”

Tanya smiled up at him, drawing warm pleasure from the sense of his body so close to hers. On his chin, there was a tiny nick from his morning shave. She wanted to touch it. “Maybe you should write one,” she said lightly.

A starry twinkle lit his irises. “Maybe I should.” With mock seriousness, he drew his brows together. “I’ll call him Diablo Chili, and give him a big shaggy mustache. He’ll be one of those monsters that drag themselves up the stairs at night, panting.”

“I’m never going to eat chilies again!” Tanya protested.

He laughed. “Sure you will. Smell that!”

Aware that she hadn’t moved, Tanya bowed her head and shifted away, reaching automatically for the next batch of chilies and spreading them over a foil-covered cookie sheet.

“So how bad is Desmary?” Ramón asked, moving to lean one hip against the sink.

“I think she’s just tired. She’s resting.” As if she didn’t mind, as if it were nothing at all, Tanya glanced at him. “I hope you don’t mind—but we have to postpone our trip to town under the circumstances.”

“I understand. I’ll help you finish today and we can go to town tomorrow.”

Tanya couldn’t help but smile at the irony. She’d seized the idea of staying here today in hopes he’d go on to town without her and she’d be spared the constant vigilance she had to maintain against his magnetic aura.

Instead, she would be trapped with him in the kitchen all day. “I can manage,” she said. “Really.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I know, but—”

His grin, white and swift, flashed on his face again. “Ah—my extreme handsomeness is making you nervous again, hmm?”

From anyone else, Tanya might have resented his pseudo arrogant teasing, but it was impossible to mind it from Ramón. For one thing, he really was devastatingly handsome. For another, she liked the idea of him defusing the tension between them like that. With a mocking smile, she said, “You’ve caught me again.”

“I’d try to be as ugly as the chili man, but you know it’s hard to hide a face like this.”

Tanya laughed. “It must tough. I feel for you.”

He flung up his hands in mock despair. “You have no idea!” From a basket hanging near the stove, he took four onions, two in each large hand, and put them on the counter. “I go to the store and the poor girls at the registers can’t even get the numbers right. Little girls giggle behind their hands.”

Following his lead, Tanya opened the freezer and took out two trays of cold, roasted chilies. She put them on the table next to a glass bowl. She flashed him a smile. “The trials and tribulations of being the most handsome man in the land.”