Conall's Legacy (10 page)

Luisa fought for distance. Why should she care if something wasn’t right? Her mother had deserted her--no, had deserted her father. She had stopped being important to Luisa a long time ago. Hadn’t she?

“Mother, why did you come? You don’t like it here. What brought you back?”

Marie lifted her gaze and met Luisa’s. “Perhaps I just wanted to see you again.”

It was possible, Luisa supposed. “Why now? Is something wrong?”

Marie set her glass aside and dragged herself to her feet. “Let’s not talk right now. I’d like to rest and freshen up. We can talk later.”

Luisa recognized the determination she saw in her mother’s eyes. She’d seen it in her eyes the day she’d left Luisa’s father and taken her away from the ranch.

She’d get nothing out of Marie until she was ready to tell her why she’d come. With a sigh, Luisa stood. “You can rest in the old guest room. We’ll have a mid-afternoon lunch if you like.” She let her gaze slide over her mother’s frail looking frame. The least she could do was feed her up while she was on the ranch.

“Thank you, dear.”

She looked relieved that Luisa wasn’t going to push for answers. Marie walked toward the hall, stopped, and turned back.

“By the way, who was the good looking man I saw storming toward the bunkhouse? He looked positively deadly.”

Luisa’s pulse quickened. She’d forgotten all about Drake when her mother arrived. “Nobody, Mom. Just someone the BLM rented the bunkhouse to. He’ll be going back to LA soon.”

The truth of that hurt more than it should have. A heavy weight settled on Luisa’s chest, the kind of pain she’d avoided since her father’s death years before.

What was happening to her? First, Drake’s admission rattled her right to the ground, and now her mother’s arrival invaded her sanctuary.

Luisa’s world vibrated on its axis, threatening to fly off into uncharted territory. Things at
La Puerta de Paraíso
were changing--and not for the better.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Drake slammed the kitchen cabinet door, as he contemplated what possessed him to open up to Luisa. He pictured her caring for her animals, could see her face when she talked about the children’s stories she wrote. Did she feel only pity for him? Was he a charity case for her? Did she really care what he felt?

Get a grip
. He forced his second-guessing inner voice to shut its mouth and watched the coffee pot brew his salvation.

The jarring ring of the telephone jerked him back to reality. He snatched the receiver off the wall hook. “Hello,” he snapped.

“Drake? It’s Rebecca.”

His heart thumped in his chest as surprise shivered through him.

“Drake, is that you? Hello?”

“Sorry. Hi Becca. How are you doing?”

There was enough of a hesitation to tell him something wasn’t right.

“Rebecca, what’s up?”

“Oh, I hate to bother you, but I’m having trouble with Matthew. He misses Conall so, and he’s having trouble at school. They say he’s just acting out about ... his loss.”

Drake frowned, gazing out the window. Seeking answers from the surroundings--answers he knew were not there.

“I’m sorry. How can I help? Do you want me to talk to him?”

“The boys need to see you. To see you’re still part of their lives. When are you coming home?”

Home
. Oh God, had he stopped thinking of LA as home?

He clutched the phone, choking the life out of it. Before he could answer, Luisa walked past the window, leading the mare and baby toward a round pen. A gentle smile lifted his lips as he watched the sway of her body, saw her touch the red filly, and reassure the mare. Need curled in the pit of his gut.
Oh, man
.

“Drake, are you still there?”

“Sure, I’m here.”

“
Are
you coming home?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be home to stay in a couple of weeks. If I can, I’ll fly over for a day or two before then. At any rate, I’ll call the boys and talk to them after school hours. Take care of yourself. Bye, Becca.”

He carefully replaced the receiver, then ran his fingers through his hair. He’d go back, but what then? Did he stay there with Rebecca and the kids? Or did he really want to be near Luisa?

With a shake of his head, Drake poured a cup of steaming liquid and watched Luisa turn the horses loose to run and play in the pen. When she’d left them, he stared into thick, black coffee. He took a deep swig, burned his tongue, and spewed scalding coffee into the sink, swearing. He slammed the cardinal and gold USC mug onto the counter. Coffee sloshed over the sides and onto his fingers. “Son of a bitch!” He stuck his hand under the cold tap and turned it on.

The water flushed away the physical pain, but his heart continued to shatter. Why the hell had he opened up to Luisa? He hadn’t spoken of Conall or the bomb since it had happened. Well, he thought, the police shrink, but that didn’t count in a personal way. He hadn’t even spoken to Rick about what happened that day, or about his promise. And why had he spoken of Rebecca like that to a woman who was a near stranger? His chest constricted, forcing the air out.

Why hadn’t he waited that day? Conall would still be alive. Why did he assume the bomb squad wouldn’t get there in time?
The apartments, you dumb shit
. No telling how many would have died if not for Conall.

He pulled air into his lungs as he tried unsuccessfully to push aside the pain of remembering. He could still see Rebecca at the funeral. She’d worn a straight, black dress with a single strand of white pearls Conall had given her when their first child was born. Tears had dripped off her cheeks from beneath the dark veil that had hidden her face.

Drake’s jaw tightened and his gut burned. The pain he’d brought her was unbearable. Could she ever forgive him? Drake gave a disgusted snort. Could he ever forgive himself, was more the point. Not in this lifetime, he thought.

He looked at the dry cheese sandwich he’d fixed himself for lunch. Shoving it aside untouched, he spun around and stalked from the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. On the porch he stopped, hidden in the shade, and watched Luisa cross the yard. An older blonde walked at her side. He wondered when she’d arrived. He’d heard nothing.

The two women walked a few feet apart. An invisible barrier separated them. They weren’t chatting the way women normally did, either.

Drake squinted into the sun to get a better look at the new arrival. She was attractive in a polished sort of way. Designer jeans hugged slim hips and a blue-green blouse accented the gold in her short hair. Sun glinted off a gold watch that held the rich tones of expensive jewelry.

Luisa led the woman around the edge of the barn toward the paddocks. No doubt going to look at the filly. He remembered the day the tiny horse was born. Remembered the rush it gave him to help. New life was sacred.

New life--death. One hell of a trade off. Pain snuck up and coiled around his throat, choking him. Rebecca had carried a new life within her when Conall died, leaving her to raise four children alone. Yep, that was one hell of a trade off. Drake gave a disgusted snort and went into the house. His coffee should have cooled by now. It didn’t drown pain as well as booze, but he’d settle for the strong, black liquid--at least this time around.

#

“Oh, Luisa, she’s beautiful. You must be very proud of her.”

“I am. She’s the first baby from Royal Knight and Queen of Knights. If she has their athletic ability, she’ll be one of the best.”

“What’s her name?”

Luisa smiled when the filly came and nuzzled Marie’s hand. “Knight’s Karma.”

Marie looked surprised. “That’s pretty. How’d you pick it?”

“Well, you’d have to have seen it, but that dangerous man you spoke of saved Queenie. She was in trouble and I never could have delivered her alone.” She shrugged. “I figured it was fate or karma that he was here. It just seemed to fit.”

Marie turned to her daughter as she dusted off her hands. “Do you plan on showing her?”

Fear rippled through Luisa. “I don’t show much these days. I may let someone else, though.”

“But you’ll be able to ride her better than anyone else if you’ve trained her.” Silence pulsed for a moment, then two. “Luisa, won’t you go see a doctor--work on getting over this problem of yours?”

“I can’t.” She focused on the mare and foal, smiling as the baby playfully bucked and kicked at her dam. The youngster nearly landed on her nose as her newborn clumsiness caught up with her.

“Why not?”

“I can’t afford it.”

“I’ll be glad to help you with that--”

The banked flame of anger flared, and Luisa swung around to face her mother. “I don’t want your money. You didn’t give--” She stopped and dragged in a ragged breath. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

“I think it is. Too much time has passed, Luisa. We need to settle this.” She cleared her throat and struggled for words. “When didn’t I offer it and for what?” Sorrow filled her blue eyes, heightened by the ready moisture that gathered in them.

“It doesn’t matter, Mother.” Luisa’s jaw tensed and deep lines creased her forehead. She watched as her mother scanned her features and saw the realization register.

“You think I didn’t want to help your father keep this place.” Her mother stared at Luisa one eyebrow lifted. The look was unrelenting. “Don’t you?”

Luisa gritted her teeth, and counted to ten. She didn’t want to get into this. “It’s over. Let’s not talk about it.”

“We have to.” Marie tucked short blond hair behind her ear. “I loved your father. That’s why we never divorced.”

Luisa gasped. “I thought ... I mean.” She shook her head. “Dad let me think you’d divorced him.”

“Did he say that?” Her voice was quiet. Luisa strained to catch every word.

“No. No, he didn’t. I assumed it because you were ... gone.”

Marie held out her left hand. “These are the rings your father placed on my hand thirty-five years ago. I never took them off, because I loved him right to the end.”

“Then why did you leave Daddy and the ranch?” Anguish rose like waves on a flash flood, turbulent and rough, breaking through her body.

Marie lifted a hand and caressed Luisa’s face, slipping her fingers over the puckered scar. “I couldn’t bear the isolation and what this ranch did to you.”

Pain slammed through Luisa’s chest followed quickly by rage. She jerked away from Marie’s hand. “Did to me, Mother? This ranch never did anything but protect and nurture me. I could give up breathing easier than leaving this place. You never asked me how I felt about leaving.”

Luisa paced, fighting for composure, and fighting the hatred and bitterness that tried to slide in. Marie put her hand on Luisa’s arm and stopped her stilted movements.

“I didn’t think I needed to ask you. I saw the result of you living in this godforsaken place. I couldn’t risk losing you to it. That’s why I left, and why I tried to take you with me.”

Luisa groaned.

“I know,” Marie said. “I was wrong. That’s why you ran away.”

“It killed me when you took me away from here, from Dad and the animals.” It was said quietly, but Luisa’s pain was fresh in spite of the years. The remembered terror of being a runaway child alone on the streets of Los Angeles vibrated in her breast.

“You live and breathe for this place. I had to leave. That was my weakness, and my loss. You and your dad had a very special thing going here. With each other and with the creatures and environment. I envied you that.”

“You could have stayed.”

“No, no more than you could leave. I know that now.”

“If you understood how important it was to us, why didn’t you at least help us hang on to our dreams?”

“I tried. I offered him the money to fight the government. He wouldn’t take it. He was too proud for that. So, in the end, the government managed to take control of the ranch.”

“You offered Dad the money to stop this--this preservation area from going through?”

Marie nodded silently. “Oh, I hesitated at first, hoping he’d come to me in California if he had to leave here.” She sighed deeply. “I recognized the fallacy in that and offered to help him stay.”

“I can’t believe he’d let the ranch go because of pride.”

“He was a good man. Strong, independent. He’d held onto this ranch through drought, bad cattle prices, not enough hired hands ... you name it. He didn’t think he deserved it if he couldn’t manage it alone.”

Luisa shook her head. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve blamed you all these years for us losing everything. For

Dad’s--” She caught herself up short. She had said enough to last a long time. There was no need to go further. “Stay and enjoy the horses.” Her voice rattled. “I need some time alone.”

She left her mother standing by the fence rail and disappeared into the trees.

Shock waves shook Luisa’s body. She picked her way through trees and underbrush. Thorns snagged her shirt. Rocks threatened to trip her. Watching for snakes lazing in the sun kept her focused for a few minutes as the river pulled her toward its serenity.