Someone Like You (Night Riders) (7 page)

“Are you implying that he might harm his own son?”

“Stop saying that!” She looked around nervously. “One of these days you’re going to slip and say it in front of Rosana or Juan.”

Maria wished she hadn’t been told—it was hard to know the truth and have to face Rafe and act as if she didn’t—but she’d never do anything that would cause Luis to learn about his parentage.

“I don’t know that Rafe would do anything to hurt Luis, but I don’t trust him.” Dolores fidgeted in her chair. “How many men in his position do you know who would be tempted to do something to get the whole fortune for themselves?”

Maria could name a dozen, but rather than show a dislike for Luis, Rafe had seemed to want to draw the boy out, make him feel important. He was brusque and reluctant to trust people, but his swift action had saved her from injury when the gazebo collapsed. He’d said he was going back to Texas, but his interest in Luis’s studies, his having bought him a pony, his disapproval of the way she was bringing him up, might indicate he wanted to take the boy back to Texas with him.

Still, Dolores was right. A fortune could cause a man to do any number of things he wouldn’t consider in ordinary circumstances.

“How did it go with the fair Maria?” Rafe remained standing next to the fireplace, leaning against the mantel in the room
that had once been his father’s, while Broc made himself comfortable. He had brought up a bottle of brandy for himself and a bottle of the ranch’s rich red wine for Rafe.

“I don’t think she’s as bad as her sister.”

Rafe hadn’t wanted to feel that way. He’d wanted to think the two women were alike so he could banish them both from the ranch, leaving the lawyer to look after Luis, but that plan had begun to fall apart the moment Maria opened the door to him. He’d known immediately Maria was nothing like her sister. The instant attraction had been a shock to him. He wasn’t immediately attracted to people, least of all women he had reason to distrust. He was tempted to compare the feeling to his attraction to Dolores, but he wasn’t nineteen, Maria wasn’t as beautiful as her sister, and he wasn’t tempted to fall to his knees and worship her. The thought made him smile.

Broc regarded him over the rim of his brandy snifter. “What’s got you smiling?”

“It was just a silly thought I had comparing Maria and Dolores.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense.” He waved the brandy bottle at Rafe. “I might take to drink in frustration.”

“Nine years ago, I practically fell at Dolores’s feet and worshipped her. I found the idea of doing the same to Maria amusing.”

“I don’t agree with you. I considered making a push to attract her attention, but I decided it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re interested in her.”

Y
ou’d better lay off the brandy. It’s obvious you’ve had too much to drink.”

Broc’s lazy laugh annoyed Rafe. “I didn’t say you were ready to offer marriage. I just said you were attracted to her.”

“You said
interested
. That’s not the same as attracted. You are aware that you’re talking about the sister of the woman whose duplicity ruined my father’s life.”

“Just because they share the same blood doesn’t mean they share the same morals,” Broc pointed out.

“I’d be happy to learn Maria is as admirable as her sister is despicable, but I’m heading back to Texas as soon as I figure out how to shift responsibility for this inheritance to someone else’s shoulders.”

Broc took a sip of brandy and leveled a hard look at Rafe. “If I were you, I’d think about that a bit more before I made up my mind.”

“You aren’t me, but for the sake of argument, why would you want the responsibility of a place like this?”

Broc looked at his brandy with affection. “For one thing, to be able to afford brandy like this. It’s a shame you don’t drink it. It’s remarkable.”

In the first years after he left the ranch, Rafe had drunk to forget. When he couldn’t forget, he drank so he wouldn’t mind that he remembered. “Setting aside the money, which I don’t care about, why would I want to stay here?”

“How can you say you don’t care about money when you’re rich enough to buy and sell Cade several times over?”

“My father was rich, but it didn’t make him happy. My
mother died after a long illness, his only son ran away, and he married a harpy.”

“You wouldn’t make the same mistakes.”

“I would if I was as interested in Maria as you think.”

“Forget being attracted to Maria. Forget being married.”

“I forgot that long ago.”

Broc ignored Rafe. “You’ve inherited half of the ranch you used to love. You liked the work, and you liked the people. Your family is here. Your roots are here.”

“My family is in Texas with Cade and Pilar and their kids, and my roots are wherever I decide to plant them.”

Broc set aside his brandy. “Cade may be an old friend, but he’s not really family. Think of your responsibilities. You’ve got a ranch that needs your attention, and a half brother who needs a big brother.”

“He has Maria, who’s horrified he even likes me.”

“All the more reason to stay long enough to prove to him you’re his best friend, his strongest advocate.”

“How can I be his best friend when he’s twenty-one years younger?”

He knew he was being obnoxious, but he didn’t want to think about his attraction to Maria. It could have only one end. Nor did he want to think about his responsibility to Luis. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, but he thought of Dolores’s betrayal whenever he saw him. Most of all, he didn’t want to think of Dolores. He no longer wanted to be her husband, but he didn’t want to be her keeper, either. He knew she would involve him in debts, an array of undesirable acquaintances, and ill-considered escapades. It would be better to let the lawyer deal with her.

Broc poured some of the rich red wine into a glass and handed it to Rafe. “Have some wine. It might mellow your mood.”

Rafe didn’t take the glass. “I don’t want my mood mellowed.”

“I do. You’re my host, so it’s your duty to see to my happiness.”

Rafe had never been able to keep up a sour front when Broc exerted himself to be charming—or persuasive. “You should have gone into politics. You could persuade the devil to vote for you.”

“Maybe the dev il, but I’d scare off the good, common folk. At least cows don’t care how I look.”

Rafe accepted the glass. The wine had a rich, hearty flavor and just enough bite to keep it from being too fruity. He had been the one to encourage his father to plant these grapes, but the vines hadn’t yet reached maturity when he left. He was glad to know he’d made a good choice.

He’d been too angry at Dolores and his father to miss the ranch immediately. For the three years he spent in Mexico, he was too drunk. Volunteering for the Confederate army had given him a reason to stay sober, as well as a group of friends who’d taken the place of the family he’d lost. Rebuilding Cade’s ranch had given focus to his three years in Texas. Whenever he felt the need for more, there was the search for Laveau, the man who’d betrayed their cavalry unit. Though Laveau was Cade’s brother-in-law, each of the Night Riders had sworn the traitor would not go unpunished.

“What do you plan to do about the ranch when you leave?”

Broc’s question brought Rafe out of his abstraction. “If Maria proves as trustworthy as you think, I’ll leave Luis in her care. The lawyer can handle everything else.”

“I thought you had to sign for every expenditure.”

“Maybe he can send the papers to me, or I can come out once a year.” If it had been just Dolores, he’d have said to hell with her and the ranch. He had the right to throw away his inheritance, but he didn’t have to right to throw away Luis’s as well.

“I don’t know anything about wills, but if your father
intended to write that will in such a way that you had to be here, I don’t think you’re going to get away with once-a-year visits.”

Rafe took a swallow of the wine. He really liked it. He would have to talk to Miguel about increasing the size of the vineyard. With the gold fields mostly played out, the market for beef was decreasing. However, with railroads able to carry produce to markets quickly, nuts, fruits, vegetables, wines, grains, and a dozen other crops would more than offset the loss of profit from the beef side of their business. He’d have to spend more time riding over the ranch and talking with Miguel before he decided what changes to make. The biggest need of all was a comprehensive irrigation system, but he refused to let himself get involved in ranch problems.

“What are you going to do tomorrow?”

“I’m not certain, but it will involve spending some time with Luis. I thought I would start by seeing if he knows how to ride.”

Broc raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’d better do it. Luis seems to like you, but you’re a scary man even when you’re in a good mood.”

“Carlos isn’t frightened of me,” Rafe replied, citing Cade’s two-year-old son.

“He’s too little to have enough sense to be scared of you. Besides, you become human when you’re around him.”

“I’m always human.”

“Haven’t you wondered why Nate always works with Ivor even though he went through the war with you?” Broc asked, mentioning two of their fellow Night Riders.

“Are you telling me Cade pairs you with me because nobody else wants to work with me?”

“When was the last time you worked with anybody but me or Cade?” Broc swallowed the last of his brandy and set the snifter aside. “You’re an angry man, but you’ve been angry so long, you don’t see it any longer. Nobody says anything about it because criticism makes you worse. Pilar has
given up doing anything except encouraging you to play with Carlos. It’s the only chink any of us have found in the wall you’ve built around yourself.”

How was he supposed to work with Nate? The man was only twenty-three. He’d never been out of Arkansas or off the family farm until the war. He wasn’t interested in anything but cows and possum hunting. Ivor’s family had lost their Polish estates through a war or some political shenanigans. All he could talk about was Poland. Thirty minutes in Ivor’s company, and he was ready to buy his damned estates and send him back to Poland.

“The only reason Cade and I put up with you is because we don’t care if you don’t talk for hours.”

Okay, so he wasn’t congenial. Even when he was living at home, he’d preferred to work with Miguel than to run around with boys his age. “If you think all this honesty is going to cause me to change, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“What ever it takes to change you is right here.” Broc’s index finger pointed down at the floor. “This is where it all went wrong, so this is the only place that can change it.”

“My father is dead, and I’ve lost my innocence—paltry possession that it was—so how can anything be changed?”

“You’ve got the home you love, a ranch and work that excites you, a brother to get to know, and a woman who attracts you. I’d say that’s enough to start with.”

“When did you turn into a romantic?”

Broc laughed. “We all have the potential to be happy. We just have to have the courage to try.”

Rafe drank the rest of his wine and set down the glass. “It’s a good thing you don’t talk like that all the time. People would swear you were coming down with a fever.”

Broc laughed as he got to his feet. “Act like you don’t care if it makes you feel better, but somewhere inside is the boy who got hurt so badly that he went into hiding because he couldn’t stand to be hurt again. I know he’s there because I see him every time you play with Carlos. You just have to
find a way to let him out. Now I’m going to bed. If I’m not up in time for breakfast, don’t wake me.”

Rafe didn’t move from his position by the fireplace. He didn’t believe the part about his younger self being inside him, still trying to get out. He’d spent ten years trying to forget everything about his life in California. Over time his home had become so thoroughly identified with Dolores, he couldn’t imagine living on Rancho los Alamitos again. After the war, he’d been happy to settle down on Cade’s ranch.

Now he wondered if he’d been fooling himself. Could it be that his refusal to think about the ranch was a way to cover up his desire to return? That might be true, but it couldn’t change the actions of the two people he’d once loved the most. He couldn’t think of the ranch without thinking of his father. And if he could manage to get past that, Dolores was there as a constant reminder of everything that had gone wrong.

Growing up, he’d never been conscious of being rich. He’d considered going to school a waste of time when he could be working on the ranch. In the years since, he hadn’t wanted anything beyond a place to sleep, enough food to stave off hunger, and a job to give him something to do. You had to want power or possessions to want to be rich. Or have someone you wanted to give things to. Without those, money was only a responsibility. All he had to worry about now was himself, and that was fine with him.

He moved away from the fireplace and started to undress. It would seem strange to sleep in his father’s room. He wasn’t sure why he’d insisted on this room. He just knew he couldn’t have slept anywhere else. Was it a subconscious statement that he was stepping into his father’s shoes? He didn’t think so, but he’d spent years refusing to think about why he did things. He didn’t really believe all of Broc’s nonsense, but while he was here, he might as well exorcize some of the demons that had plagued him for so long.

He knew he wasn’t happy, and he was getting tired of his
own dissatisfaction. Not because it made other people uncomfortable. He was jealous of the happiness that Cade and Pilar had found with each other. It wasn’t so much that they were happily married or that they had a healthy toddler and a newborn infant. It was everything in general. Cade was so happy with his life, nothing bothered him. Pilar couldn’t do enough for all of them. And that was on top of taking care of the house hold and putting up with a grandmother who would tax the patience of a saint.