She’d started to ask him about his relationship with his brother, but from the first question, she felt him close off. Miguel wasn’t like David, who was all about family. David had stuck around all the years she worked for the Torres family, looking out for the boys and even Thiago, who had a penchant for drinking too much. Everyone said Miguel ran away from the responsibilities. From her first meeting of him, he didn’t seem to be the type to run away from anything.
Miguel pulled to a stop before the ranch house, which David had had remodeled just a couple years ago. The seven-bedroom two-story home was big, but very cozy and inviting. Daisy, the family’s golden retriever, jogged over to inspect the visitor. She wasn’t much of guard dog when it came to people because she loved them so much. If it was a coyote, the invader would be in big trouble, but other than that, Daisy considered everyone a friend.
“Hello, boy.”
Miguel dropped to one knee and stroked Daisy’s head. Jasmeka found it interesting the way he spoke gently to the dog, but his alert gaze swept the property and zipped up toward the front entrance of the house.
Jasmeka opened the bed of the truck to prepare to get the bags out. “She’s a girl. Her name is Daisy.”
She reached for Miguel’s suitcase, but he extended a hand past hers to grab it himself. Startled, she looked up at him. He’d moved like a ghost so she thought he was still playing with Daisy. His bicep flexed when he picked up the bag. She definitely didn’t miss that, especially since it shortened her breath just a hair.
Get your mind straight, Jas. Focus on the task in front of you.
The screen door creaked open. “Miguel! You’re here finally.”
Jasmeka tensed when Thiago appeared in the doorway. Hope rose in her belly, and pain tightened her chest at Thiago’s anguished cry. He stumbled on unsteady legs down off the porch. Even from where she stood by the truck, she could smell the alcohol. Thiago had been drinking nonstop since they got the news about David. His heart was crushed, and she wished she could do something for him. At least, his second son had come home.
“Thiago,” Miguel muttered. He stood as if made of stone, holding his bag in one hand and his other hand tightened into a fist.
Thiago fell on his chest and wrapped his arms around Miguel’s waist. “Te echo de menos, hijo. Call me Daddy like you used to when you were a boy.”
Miguel’s eyebrows rose, and he reached for Thiago’s arms as if he would pull them off. Jasmeka rushed over to them. “Thiago, help me with the bags? I ran into so many people today who said they’re going to stop by, and we have to make sure they can eat when they get here. Where are the boys?”
At her words, the door opened again, but it wasn’t the twins. Aunt Rosa stood in the entrance with her arms folded and a forbidding expression on her face. “You came,” she said simply in Spanish. Aunt Rosa almost never spoke English. Most people thought she couldn’t understand it, but Jasmeka suspected otherwise. She used one of the family members or Jasmeka to translate whenever necessary, but Jasmeka didn’t buy the ignorance after living in Texas so long and raising the twins, who both spoke fluent English and Spanish.
“Aunt Rosa, cómo estás?” Miguel’s greeting held far less chill for his aunt, but it wasn’t friendly.
The older woman, who looked like she could be Thiago’s twin, allowed herself to be kissed on the cheek and given a brief hug from Miguel. Then he moved past her into the house. She spun on her heel and followed Miguel inside. Jasmeka was left to half hold up Thiago while gathering her bags. She sighed.
Someone whistled. She wasn’t sure who, and a couple of ranch hands appeared out of nowhere to gather the rest of her bags. She found her hands empty except for Thiago, who wobbled beside her.
“He hates me, Jazzy.”
She patted Thiago’s shoulder. “No, he doesn’t hate you. He loves you. I bet Miguel is just grieving in his own way. After all, he has been gone so long, and he might be feeling worse because he didn’t get to see David before he was gone.”
Her voice cracked on the last bit, but she pulled herself together. Thiago seemed to take her words to heart. “You’re right. We have to make him feel better, Jazzy. Make him want to stay. I can’t lose another boy. I can’t do it. You understand, don’t you?”
She clenched her jaw a minute and then released it. “Yes, I understand, sir, but we can’t control what Miguel does. I doubt any of us can influence him in any way.”
“He’s a Torres. We’re as stubborn as they come.” Thiago sounded proud of the fact.
Jasmeka dropped off Thiago at his favorite chair in his private study, and she headed to the kitchen. She wondered if she should go find Miguel to see what his preferences were when it came to food or if he was hungry right then. After considering his attitude with his dad and his aunt, she decided to leave him to his own devices.
When everyone heard he was coming home, mutterings started flying around the ranch at record speed. The staff was mostly indifferent, but the family, the ones who should have been happiest that he was coming had gone from occasional tears over David’s loss to snapping at each other and her. That greeting outside told her tension in the house was about to climb to new levels, and it was up to her to try for some unity. Maybe with a little of her usual magic, she could bring the Torres family together again. First, she would have to get to know Miguel better. That might not be such an easy task, but she was more than up for the challenge.
* * *
Antonio reached for a roll, but Jasmeka shook her head, frowning at him. “Not yet. We have to wait for Miguel.”
“Why should we?” Antonio grumbled. “If he can’t come to dinner on time, then that’s his problem. The rest of us shouldn’t suffer.”
Jasmeka scraped her chair back. “It won’t hurt to wait five minutes, Antonio. Let me go knock on his door again.”
Before she could stand, Miguel appeared in the dining room doorway. His gaze took in every detail of the room, lingering a second or two on the twins before moving to her. “You eat with the family?”
Antonio laughed and muttered something in Spanish Jasmeka didn’t hear and then spoke in English. “She works for us, but we let her do whatever she wants. Her food is good. Besides, it’s none of your business.”
Angel laughed but didn’t speak. Aunt Rosa’s mouth tightened. She couldn’t comment on Antonio’s rudeness, or she would reveal she understood English very well. Thiago slapped a hand on the table.
“Antonio, apologize to Jazzy! She’s family, and you’re not going to be rude to her, boy.”
The older twin by a few minutes reddened. His jaw clenched, and he stared down at his empty plate. Sometimes, when he was like this, Jasmeka found it hard to believe he was seventeen. But that was Aunt Rosa’s fault. The boys were immature and often bratty because she spoiled them.
“Lo siento,” he muttered.
Thiago’s head bobbed up and down while Miguel took a seat. He waved over one of the maids that helped Jasmeka, and she piled his plate with food. Thiago picked up his knife and fork and waggled the knife in Miguel’s direction. He spoke Spanish, she assumed for Aunt Rosa’s benefit. “And your brother, he’s the head of the house now, so you have to respect Miguel.”
Antonio’s eyes widened. “I’m the head of the house! He’s not family. He left a long time ago, and we shouldn’t have even told him about David. What does he care?”
“Antonio!” Jasmeka looked at Aunt Rosa, but she was busy directing the maid to fill her plate. Neither she nor her brother ever helped themselves. The twins might be spoiled, but they never waited to be served. They fixed their own plates. David had done the same.
Miguel shifted his shoulders and began serving himself as well. He didn’t appear to be offended by his brother’s claim. “I agree,” he said.
Jasmeka gasped.
A dark and dangerous gaze met Antonio’s, and the teenager shifted in his chair before straightening his back and raising his chin. Miguel continued. “I am not the head
of the house. I don’t understand why there would be any question since Thiago is still around.”
“Oh, you don’t know,” Jasmeka blurted. “Thiago signed the ranch over to David eight years ago.”
Miguel paused with a forkful of mashed potatoes and gravy on the way to his mouth. Shock registered in his expression, and he looked at his dad. “Why?”
“Don’t worry. Eat, eat!” Thiago encouraged him. The older man belayed answering any further questions by stuffing his own mouth with grilled chicken. He chewed noisily and downed a can of beer before demanding another.
Miguel said nothing but concentrated on his meal.
Jasmeka watched him. “I hope you like it. I wasn’t sure what foods you do and don’t like. If you have any allergies, let me know. I’ll be sure to avoid cooking those foods for the time being.”
He shrugged. “I’ll eat whatever you sit before me. I’m not picky.”
“That’s my boy.” Thiago belched and slapped an empty can down on the table. Then he burst out crying. “You’ll be the head, Miguel. David’s gone. He was too young. What will I do without him? You have to stay. This is where you belong. You can run the ranch instead of David.”
Antonio jumped to his feet. “I can run the ranch, Dad. He doesn’t know anything! He’s a fake.”
“Antonio!” Aunt Rosa sat her fork down.
Jasmeka had been about to get onto the boy herself before Aunt Rosa spoke up.
“You know I don’t like my dinner disturbed,” Aunt Rosa said. “You can argue later.”
Jasmeka blinked at her. That was all she was going to say? For real?
Miguel leaned away from the table, bringing his chair up onto two legs. He threw an arm over the back and stared into his brother’s reddening face. “You think I’m a fake Mexican, is that it?”
Antonio shrugged. “Aren’t you? Been in the big city all this time, away from the ranch. My big brother said you didn’t do anything the last time you were here, and Betsy was having trouble giving birth. You were scared to touch her.”
“Betsy’s one of the cows,” Jasmeka explained.
Miguel spared her a glance. “The last time I was here, I didn’t come to tend to animals, but it doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about it. You’re what, fourteen?”
Antonio bristled. Jasmeka had the feeling Miguel knew how old his younger brothers were.
“Seventeen!”
“Oh, old enough to shave.” Miguel looked pointedly at Antonio’s smooth chin, pushing his brother farther away from what Jasmeka could see. Why didn’t he cut Antonio some slack? Then Miguel seemed to read her mind, and the irritation in his tone ebbed away. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of taking over this ranch—or staying.”
He stood and walked out of the room.
“Another beer,” Thiago commanded.
“Antonio, sit down and finish your dinner,” Aunt Rosa said as if there hadn’t just been a big blowout between her nephews. “Your food is getting cold.”
Antonio dropped into his seat but didn’t do more than mix his potatoes and gravy. Angel sat in apparent silent misery, and Jasmeka wondered how she could stir up some love among the siblings. Somehow, she had to try—for all their sakes.
Chapter 3
Miguel watched as Jasmeka’s hips swayed when she walked. Her high-pitched voice reached him as she greeted yet another neighbor. Hugs all around, kisses, she wasn’t ashamed to share affection with any and everyone. While there were times he saw her extreme sadness, at other times she seemed unable to keep herself from encouraging others even if it was just a smile. She was an odd woman, a kind he had never come across before. He found himself drawn to learn more about her, to talk to her. The fact was, he couldn’t stop looking at her either.
To get Jasmeka off his mind, he left her to the endless visitors and stepped toward the rear of the house. A verandah ran around the parameter of the house his great-grandfather built, and Miguel had slept on a hammock hanging there just as probably every other Torres had done during its time.
He popped a small block of cheese into his mouth, which he’d swiped from the tray earlier. Considering how quickly he could get out of town, he had to admit he was nervous about the funeral the next day.
If I keep my mind on my plan, I should be fine.
“You can’t fill up on cheese blocks.” Jasmeka appeared before him holding a plate with enough food on it to feed a small army. He didn’t doubt he could do it justice.
“Is your lot in life to feed people?” he demanded.
She grinned, but he saw sadness in the chocolate depths. Without thinking, he reached a hand toward her cheek rather than the plate. Two inches away from impact he froze. What was he thinking? He snatched the plate and dug in, pretending to be absorbed by the flavor. It wasn’t so hard given she was a fantastic cook.
“Cooking keeps my mind busy.” She fingered the apron she wore, probably not realizing how it accentuated her figure. At his thoughts, he frowned harder. Why the heck was he so obsessed with her body? He’d just broken things off with Carmen. Then again, maybe that was his way of coping. He never noticed before. Whenever he called, Carmen came over to his house.
“What?” Miguel realized he’d missed something Jasmeka said.
She sighed. “I said I don’t understand how you two didn’t get along?”
Did he mention Carmen out loud?
“David was a good man. If he never got into that car…”
She didn’t continue, but she didn’t need to. He’d heard the story of how an elderly man had had a heart attack and crossed the line to hit David’s truck head on. Jasmeka assured him David wasn’t drinking at the time. In fact, she claimed his brother never drank anything stronger than a cola. Miguel didn’t push the subject because she had become defensive again.
“If you’re a Marshall, I’m assuming you’re a good person too.”
Miguel scooped up the last bite of his meal and handed the plate to Jasmeka. She took it, and he walked over to the railing to lean on it. Looking out over the property and watching the sun go down had been his favorite pastime when he was a kid. Later, his dad shattered the peaceful existence he had enjoyed. Rather he opened Miguel’s eyes.
“What I know of David is that he wasn’t much different than Thiago.”
“Then you didn’t know him.” He noticed her anger rose easily when it came to the subject of David. If there was one thing that was steady in the Torres family, it was anger. She appeared beside him. “Thiago turned the ranch over to David for a reason.”
“That surprised me, but I’m assuming he only did it to give himself more time to drink and hang out with his friends.”
“He’s your dad, Miguel. Why do you hate him so much?”
“What I feel for him or my brother is none of your business.” He spun away from her and started for the house then stopped. Guilt made him turn back, and the feeling increased when he saw hurt in her eyes. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not going to take out my family’s problems on you. It seems like you have a good relationship with them. That’s fine, but do me a favor and don’t try to fix us. I won’t be here long.”
She started to speak and apparently thought better of it. At her nod, he left her on the verandah and went to find a mount. In New York, he didn’t get much occasion to ride. He might as well enjoy it a little while he was there because it was certain he wouldn’t ever come back no matter what anyone said.
* * *
Miguel dropped onto his bed. He’d been out riding again. The wake that afternoon, the funeral and the burial had taken it out of him. He’d been forced to talk to more people than he cared to in his mood, all demanding to know if he was home to stay. After a few excruciating hours, he broke away and had gone riding down to a nearby lake. Now with the moon high in the sky and the house quiet, he could relax.
A warm breeze blew through his window, bringing with it the scent of bluebonnets and livestock. Somebody was burning wood despite the warm dry ni
ght. Maybe they were preparing to barbecue that late. He shut his eyes and willed sleep to take him, but it remained elusive. Perhaps a snack, although he wasn’t hungry after the big plate of food Jasmeka had given him.
He left his room with only a sliver of moonlight here and there to guide him. The house creaked around him. He knew every nook and cranny. Nothing had changed in all those years he was gone except for a few updates to the siding and roof, and yet, Jasmeka wanted him to believe his older brother had. The last time Miguel visited the ranch, the twins were five years old. He wouldn’t be there now if David hadn’t died.
“Why are you sneaking around?”
The only reason he didn’t jump was because he heard her an instant before she spoke. Not to mention the hint of sweet scent she gave off. He wondered why she smelled like peaches. Perhaps it was her body wash.
He slowed and stopped to let her pass ahead of him. Her arm brushed his, and he got another whiff of her scent. The softness of her bare skin brought his body alive, and he wished there was more light so he could see those hips sway.
“I was just about to make a cup of tea,” she said. “You want some? Or do you want something stronger?”
He clenched his jaw. “I don’t drink.”
She paused ahead of him. “I’m pretty sure I saw you drinking a cola earlier and yesterday.”
“I meant alcohol.”
She snorted. “Wow, I hear all kinds of judgment in that tone. Don’t you get tired of looking down on us mortals?” Her tone held teasing, but he figured she was serious. He said nothing, and she continued on down the hall with him on her heels.
She made tea, and he leaned against the counter, arms folded as he watched her. The short shorts and T-shirt she wore earlier in the day had given way to a lilac nightie with a white flowered pattern. Its length was short enough to expose her legs halfway up her thighs but not thin enough to let him see through it. Bummer. Her feet were bare, and she’d polished her toes a shade of purple. He wondered if that was her favorite color and then dismissed the notion. Such facts didn’t interest him.
Love Untrusted Page 2
