Tempted by Fate (28 page)

“It sounded”—he glanced up at the ceiling in thought—“heartfelt. Like it was coming from someplace deep inside you. It was beautiful. When I saw the flute, it seemed like you’d want it back. It looks well loved.”

Hands shaking, she took the flute out of the bag and let the plastic fall to the floor. She rolled the flute in her hands, the pulse of the wood under her fingertips. She closed her eyes and reached out to the energy, feeling the echoes of her mother’s and her own
mù ch’i
deep in the grain.

Tears prickled her eyes, falling down to her nose, but she pushed them back and lifted her chin. “My mother made this flute.”

He nodded solemnly. He understood. She could see it in his eyes; yet she couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

“You stole this for me?” she asked.

“I requisitioned it out of the property room,” he corrected, his expression neutral.

“But isn’t that against the rules?”

“The flute has no bearing in this case.”

She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. They collected it as evidence, which means it stays listed as evidence until otherwise released.”

Ramirez still didn’t say anything.

Frustration ate at her. “You broke the rules, which
is noteworthy considering you’re a by-the-book kind of guy. You risked your job to bring this to me?”

He stared at her, his gaze dark and intense, waiting for her to get it.

It didn’t compute.

Yes, it was just a flute, and he probably wouldn’t suffer any consequences for bringing it to her. But his job defined him. If she’d learned anything about him, it was that he took his work very seriously. It was something she related to. But what did it mean?

“
I’m falling in love with you.
”

She looked back up at him, but all she saw was his back as he walked away.

T
here was an old apple tree in Ramirez’s backyard. Its limbs were barren of fruit, but they stretched out like welcoming arms, full of sheltering leaves. Willow went to it and sat at its foot. She put her hand on the dirt and let her energy flow into the earth, feeling how grounded and sure the tree felt. It knew its place and thrived in that security.

Willow immediately recognized Elena’s hand in that. Anyone would have—evidence of her love and caring was all around the abundant garden. Mama would have been like that. Willow pulled out the flute and rolled it under her fingertips. If they’d been able to stay in one place for any length of time, her mom would have had a garden sanctuary much like this one.

Swallowing the bitterness, she took a deep breath and raised the flute to her lips. On her exhale, a note floated into the air. She closed her eyes and let the note extend into a pure melody. It began soft and tentative, but with each breath, her chest loosened more. Soon
everything inside her poured out through the pipe. One moment the tune lulled in sadness, the next it rose in anger.

She felt the tree sway overhead, dancing to her emotions. She felt the brush of a leaf against her face and she shivered, remembering the touch of Ramirez’s lips there. Just like that, the music changed, becoming complicated with longing, dark with need. Finally it trilled in careful hope. The last note expired in a slow, long breath, and Willow opened her eyes to find Ramirez’s grandmother sitting on a bench, eyes closed, face uplifted to the sun. Inhaling deeply, Elena opened her eyes and smiled sadly at Willow.

“If you were truly as dark as you believe you are, you would never be able to make music so pure.”

Willow cradled the flute in her hands. “If you knew how I made my living, you’d change your assessment.”

“Would I?” The older woman cocked her head and studied Willow; then she patted the bench next to her. “Come,
mijita.
”

Without a thought of resisting, Willow got up and sat next to her. She waited, her body tense. What was his grandmother going to say? Much to Willow’s surprise, Elena said nothing. She looked over her domain, her pride evident. Consciously or not, her breathing matched the garden’s ebb and flow.

Sitting next to her, Willow found herself settling into the same peaceful rhythm. She became aware of the insects buzzing and the occasional squawk of tiny birds dive-bombing each other. The tension in her shoulders melted, and
mù ch’i
hummed contentedly through her body.

“This is a special place,” Willow murmured. The only thing it needed was a
tarata
and it would be perfect.

Elena nodded. “It is. Not many people see that. Instead, they see a tangle of weeds and herbs that need to be cut back. Even Ricardo doesn’t fully understand, though he respects my talents.” Elena faced her. “He doubts what he can’t see and touch, but he accepts both in those he loves. Do you understand?”

Willow swallowed thickly, not sure what they were talking about: her past or her Guardianship. She had no idea how Elena would know about either one. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

The woman sighed. “Ricardo’s mother was my daughter. She didn’t understand my vocation, and I couldn’t understand her needs. She was such a volatile girl, one moment ecstatic, the next wallowing in misery. I made mistake after mistake with her, trying to push her to accept a destiny that wasn’t hers.

“She finally ran off.” Elena’s body seemed to droop, and for the first time since Willow had met her, she looked her age. “For a long time, I didn’t know where she’d gone, but she came back with a baby boy.”

Ramirez. “And his father?”

“I don’t think she knew who his father was. If she did, she never told me.” The woman’s smile was bitter. “Not that I deserved her trust.”

Not knowing what to do, but needing to do something, Willow enveloped Elena in a warm blanket of
mù ch’i.
Elena lifted her head, turning to Willow with a sharp gaze. Then she reached over and squeezed her hand. “I knew I wasn’t wrong. If only I’d known then,
what I know now. Perhaps I could have helped my daughter.”

“What happened?” Willow asked, very aware that Elena’s hand still covered hers.

“She withered and died, like a plant that didn’t receive the care she needed. It’s the age-old story of a young woman spiraling out of control, taking a path that led to her eventual destruction. They found her dead of a drug overdose. Ricardo was only two at the time.” Her eyes went distant, as if she were watching a scene replaying in her mind. She shuddered as she came back to herself. “My fault, because I couldn’t accept her as she was.”

“I don’t think—”

“
My fault.
” She pounded her chest with her fist. “I carry that with me every day.”

Willow nodded. That she could understand.

“I could have altered my daughter’s fate. If only I’d been less stubborn.” She turned to Willow, the grip on her hand firm. “But you couldn’t do anything to change your mother’s fate.”

Willow stiffened. She tried to extract her hand, but the woman wouldn’t let her retreat. Finally she cleared the guilt from her throat. “You said yourself you didn’t know my mother. You can’t know anything about it.”

“Can’t I? There’s much in this world that defies explanation. You of all people should recognize this.”

She fell into the woman’s eyes, their depths fathomless. They extended into the past and future, and in them she could see everything. Dizzy, she gripped the bench with her free hand, trying to ground herself.

Elena smiled humorlessly. Then she sighed, and her
gaze returned to normal. Her behavior was odd—even to Willow, who was no stranger to odd things.

“I tried to do better with Ricardo. I think I did a good job,” she said with a faint proud smile. “But he inherited my stubbornness.”

“Did he ever,” Willow muttered.

Elena grinned at her. “He’s a good man. Despite the stubbornness, he sees reason. Which is why you need to tell him about yourself.”

Herself, as in her career? Or her Guardianship? “I can’t tell him who I am, but I can tell him what I’ve done.”

“They’re one and the same,
mijita.
” She must have looked doubtful, because Elena smiled and patted her hand. “Do it sooner rather than later.”

“Have you been talking to Morgan?” Willow asked suspiciously.

“No, but she’s next.” The woman smiled.

Willow tried to think of something to say. What came out was “I don’t deserve him.”

“You’ll find no argument with me there.” The older woman grinned mischievously. “I raised him, so I’m inclined to believe he’s too good for any woman. However, if I were to give him to someone, it would be you,
mijita.
”

Tears flooded Willow’s eyes. “How can you say that?”

“Because I see what’s in your heart.” She cradled Willow’s face. “The future is more important than the past. He’ll see that. But his honor is strong, and if his trust is lost, it will never be regained. You need to tell him, or you’ll risk losing him.”

She shook her head. Telling him would get the same result.

“You don’t know that,” his grandmother said.

Willow held Elena’s stare, realizing she hadn’t spoken the words out loud. “That was freaky, and coming from me, that’s saying something.”

Chuckling, Elena pulled Willow into her arms. Elena smelled warm and earthy and comforting, and Willow had a pang of longing to stay there forever. She felt a tear sneak down her cheek and drip onto Elena’s shoulder.

“Is everything okay here?”

Ramirez.
Willow started to disengage herself, but his grandmother held on to her for a beat longer, squeezing her. She had the impression the woman was trying to infuse her with courage, and that made her squeeze back in gratitude.

Elena let her go and smiled at her grandson. “Everything is perfect,
hijo.
”

Ramirez didn’t look like he believed it, but he didn’t argue. “We need to go, Willow.”

She nodded and started to stand, when his grandmother grabbed her arm. “Willow has something to tell you. Sit under the apple tree and listen to her,
hijo.
”

Willow’s heart pounded. She wanted to say, it could wait—she’d promised him she’d tell him after everything was settled with the Bad Man, anyway. But his grandmother was looking at her like she was going to be supremely disappointed in her if she didn’t come clean. Fighting to gain strength, Willow nodded in his direction. “You heard your grandma, Starsky. It’ll just take a minute, anyway.”

Elena pushed her toward the tree. “It’ll bring you comfort.” She stood and pointed a finger at Ramirez. “Listen with your heart, not with your head.”

His jaw tightened as if expecting a blow, but he nodded.

Willow exhaled a shaky breath. If he knew what she was about to tell him, he’d ask for the blow, instead.

The biggest obstacle seemed her career, so she figured she’d start there. She just hoped he wouldn’t drag her to prison the moment she finished telling him.

Striding to the tree, Willow sat in the same spot as before. Hands on the ground, she felt the roots and let their stability bolster her. Mama had told her one day she’d meet someone she’d want to share her Guardianship with, but that she had to be careful of her choice.

Was that person Ramirez? Could she tell him? Would he believe her?

One thing at a time,
she told herself.
Better to get this over with first.

Ramirez approached and stood over her.

She frowned. “I can’t talk with you towering over me.”

“Is that really necessary?” he asked, gesturing to the ground.

“It is if you want me to say what I need to tell you.” When he just stared at her, she blew out an exasperated breath. “Sit your ass down.”

He looked like he was going to argue, but he sat cross-legged, facing her.

Great. Now what?
She ran her hands over the tree’s roots.

Exhaling, he took her hand in his. “Just tell me, Willow.”

“Okay.” She took a breath and let it go. “After my mother died, I was afraid the Bad Man would find me, even hidden away with the caretaker Mama had arranged in case something like this happened. When I turned
eighteen, I ran away and hid, traveling from place to place.”