Diablo's Angel (Ranchero Trilogy Book 3)

by Donna Fletcher

  “What of Diablo?” the priest asked, approaching them.

  “He is dead and buried,” Esteban said, looking to Chavez. “Isn’t that right?”

  “He is,” Chavez confirmed. “I killed and buried him myself.”

  Crista knew there and then that her brother was aware that Chavez was Diablo. That he had recognized their love for each other and had helped them secure a future together.

  She turned and hugged her brother. “You are the best brother.”

  Esteban hugged her close. “And you have suffered enough, little one. I will see you suffer no more.”

  Esteban’s men had rounded up Vega’s men to turn over to the authorities in Los Angles. He mounted his horse and looked to his sister. “You need to come to the hacienda before you return home with your husband so Madre and Padre can see you are unharmed or they both will descend on your ranch in panic.”

  “We will follow behind you,” Chavez assured him.

  Esteban nodded to the padre. “Bring him as well so we can find out what he was doing here and if he’s actually a padre.”

  “I thought the same myself,” Chavez said with an eye toward the padre who offered not an ounce of priestly consoling.

  Crista turned to see the priest wander off, looking a bit bewildered. She smiled when she felt her husband’s hands at her waist and he turned her to face him.

  “Are you sure you’re all right? he asked.

  “I am now that you’re here with me. My leg gave me a moment of pain but only an ache lingers.” She smiled softly and whispered, “It’s done. Diablo is gone. No one will ever know. Like you, my brother is a man of his word.”

  “You’re right your brother is a man of his word, but it is the love he has for his little sister that holds his tongue more than anything. And for that I am grateful.” He kissed her gently. “What does concern, though…” He turned his head, his glance going to the padre.

  Crista loved the feel of his strong hand wrapping around hers, smothering her small one with strength and love as they walked over to the padre.

  Chavez stopped in front of the man. “Who are you?”

  It struck Crista then, with the two men facing each other, why the padre had looked familiar to her. So she wasn’t surprised by his response.

  “I’m your father.”

  Chapter 31

  Seven months later

  “Our child is going to look like an orange with as many of those as you eat,” Chavez said, reaching up and plucking the orange his wife was trying to reach off the branch.

  “At least I’m obeying you and staying off the ladder,” Crista said sweetly.

  Chavez laughed and rested his hand on his wife’s large, rounded stomach. “I doubt you’d make it up the ladder and as far as obeying—you have no concept of the meaning of the word. Or that it is a wifely duty.”

  Her sweet smile turned to a light chuckle and she tapped her husband’s chest. “I see very nicely and often to the most important wifely duties.” She gave his chest a jab. “Unless you have complaints.”

  Chavez quickly raised his hands, laughing. “Not a single complaint.”

  She took her husband’s arm after giving her back a quick rub. “I prefer to enjoy my orange in the cool interior of the house today.”

  “You’re not feeling well?” Chavez asked, having noticed she had slowed down considerably the last few days and that told him much. Everyone believed she had nearly two months to go before the birth. He knew differently. Her time was near and he worried over her.

  Her hand went to her stomach. “This is quite a bundle to be carrying around and,” —she stopped abruptly— “Oh my!”

  “What’s wrong?” Chavez asked anxiously.

  Crista looked down at the puddle at her feet. “It’s time.”

  “Time?” Chavez asked and shook his head, then followed where she looked. “The baby?”

  She nodded and her body suddenly jolted as he rushed her up into his arms and ran to the house.

  “Get Alma,” he shouted as they approached the house and servants quickly took flight. “I’ll send for Rosa and your mother.”

  “Alma will be far more helpful. She has delivered many babies. Besides, Rosa is busy with her newborn son and my mother will not be of that much help. She will worry that the baby was being born too soon.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” he said as they entered the house.

  “No you won’t. You will go wait like all fathers do.” She caught the flash of annoyance in his eyes. She understood her husband well. He protected her in all things, kept her safe, that was important to him. It was what he wanted and needed to do. This was something he had no control over and she imagined it frightened him. She touched his cheek gently. “This is for me to do, but if for any reason I need you—”

  “I’ll be here,” he said.

  “Something I never doubt.” She kissed him gently.

  “We’re here,” Alma said, entering the bedroom with another woman and Vilia.

  “Go,” Crista urged him, feeling his reluctance to leave her. “Go and let your father keep you company.”

  “I haven’t seen him today.”

  “You know where he is, where he often goes.”

  Chavez nodded and after kissing her gently lowered her to her feet.

  “Worry not. I will see this done without fuss,” Crista said, shooing him off.

  Chavez stopped at the door and turned. “I love you, Crista.”

  The hint of Diablo in his voice reminded her that she was about to have the devil’s baby.

  Chavez was reluctant to leave the house, but his wife knew where he went. It had been a shock to learn the padre was his father. Not that he was a padre. That had been a ruse, which had made him wonder if the man was telling the truth about being his father. And when he had found out who his mother was—he shook his head and stopped at the gate to the family cemetery.

  Two large oak trees shaded the fenced in area and there by the one tombstone sat his father, Antonio Miguel Chavez Navarro. It was a heartbreaking story his father had told him and what was even more heartbreaking was that his father still grieved for the woman he loved—Maria Edgardo.

  “Padre,” he called out and opened the gate to join his father at his mother’s grave.

  The man looked over at him and Chavez was moved that after all these years he still shed tears for the woman he loved. It made him realize that he was no different than his father, since he would never stop shedding tears if he lost Crista.

  “The baby comes,” Chavez said and sat down next to his father on the grass.

  “Is Crista all right? Does all go well?” his father asked anxiously.

  His concern touched Chavez, but then he was learning how much his father truly loved him these last few months.

  “All is well. She is in good, capable hands,” Chavez said, though his own words didn’t ease his worry. Nothing would until this was over and done and he saw for himself his wife and child were safe.

  “That is good,” his father said with a nod that kept going until it faded away as he turned to look at the tombstone. “I only got to see you a moment when you were born before I was ripped away from your mother. We both thought we were safe, that no one would find us.” He shook his head. “I was a fool. I failed the three of us.”

  “Madre’s family failed her, not you.”

  “A peon does not get to wed into a wealthy and powerful family. The outcome was predictable. I should have never put your mother through the heartache. I should have walked away.”

  Once again Chavez thought of how much alike they were. He had thought the same when he had realized he had feelings for Crista. What could come of the devil loving a young woman of privilege and wealth?

  “Love doesn’t allow you to walk away,” Chavez said. “Besides, I wouldn’t be here if you had walked away and either would your grandchild who is about to be born. Yours and my mother’s love carries on in me and my children and all who f
ollow.”

  “You speak as your mother would have. I am glad you got to know her. I am glad she was strong enough to search for you and find the couple you were given to, though sad to learn they had died and you were left with—”

  “My abuela, a strong, courageous woman who taught me to survive no matter what. Much like you did when you were sent away.”

  “They thought if they kept me a prisoner in the monastery that I’d eventually surrender. All I could think about was you and your mother and getting back to you both. The monastery was so far removed from anything that it was near impossible to escape, and to survive once I did. I learned the hard way, but after four escapes I succeeded.” He shook his head. “I didn’t realize how long it would take me to get out of Spain and back home to my family.”

  “But you did and your home now and this is where you’ll stay.”

  “I almost ruined things for you.”

  Chavez could see that the once strong man was collapsing under the weight of all the years of sorrow and heartbreak. His father may have lost those years but he didn’t want him to lose any more.

  “I wasn’t sure you were my son,” —his father laughed— “your wife thought differently and continues to let me know it. She says it is easy to see me in you.”

  “Crista is astute and stubborn when she knows she’s right.”

  His father shook his head. “I still can’t believe how forgiving she is of me, accusing you of falsely claiming your rightful heritage and thinking my son was Diablo and trying to do whatever I could to keep him safe.” He continued to shake his head. “Even paying Diablo’s enemy to let me know when he found Diablo. I intended to do anything to keep him safe and take him away so that you would have a chance at a good life. From all I had learned of the young boy Maria had working here and tracking him down as best as I could, all signs pointed to Diablo.”

  Chavez didn’t need his father to know what he had done to survive and thanks to a story his wife had concocted he’d never know. “How were you to know that my mother sent me away to be educated, then created an identity for me that would allow me to inherit the hacienda.”

  “Maria was so courageous.”

  “You both are and I’m grateful to have you as my parents.”

  His father wiped at the tears that fell. “I wish I had gotten here sooner. I wish I could have held your mother one last time in my arms and let her know how much I loved her.”

  “She knew Papá, she knew. She told me once that there was a special kind of love I should find. The kind of love that burrows itself deep in your heart and stays there no matter what happens. You never lose it. It’s yours forever. She told me she was lucky to have found such a love and I knew it wasn’t her husband she was talking about. I’m glad to know it was the love she had for my father.”

  Tears spilled down his cheek.”

  “You made it home, Papá, and here is where you’ll stay,” Chavez said, giving his father’s shoulder a squeeze.

  They sat there talking, Chavez telling him every memory he had about his mother, though he had already shared them with his father over the last few months. His father liked hearing them again and again. Chavez also liked hearing about his father and mother and how they had accidentally fallen in love, much like him and Crista. He talked about the good and loving times he and Maria had shared and Chavez never got tired of hearing it all again and again.

  “Are you ready to meet your babies?” Alma called out.

  Chavez hurried to his feet, helping his father to stand as he did, then shook his head. “Did you say babies?”

  Alma grinned. “I did. You have a son and a daughter—twins.”

  Chavez stared at Alma in disbelief and only came out of his stupor when his father slapped him on the back.

  “Congratulations, son.”

  Chavez shook his head. “Crista?”

  “Your wife is good, delivered those two with ease, and she’s eager to see you.”

  Chavez took off, then stopped. “Come on, Papá, come and meet your grandbabies.”

  “You go, I’ll catch up.”

  Chavez took off.

  “You must care deeply for him since you keep his secret,” Antonio said after Chavez was a distance away.

  Alma smiled and nodded. “I knew you were not a gullible man. Your son is a good, decent, honorable man who did right for those who deserved it. His secret will die with me.”

  “It will die with me as well,” Antonio said, “and I am glad to know there are those who protect him.”

  “He protected many when no one else would. Now we protect him and no more will ever be said about it.”

  Antonio held out his arm. “It’s time to meet my grandson and granddaughter.”

  “I still can’t believe we have two,” Chavez said, looking down in awe at his tiny daughter tucked in the crook of his arm, sleeping peacefully. “Let’s hope she obeys me better than you do.”

  Crista laughed.

  “Let me have a small ray of hope,” Chavez pleaded. He leaned closer to his wife, sitting next to her on the bed, and peeked at his son sleeping just as peacefully in Crista’s arm. “He is bigger than his sister which is good since he will protect her.”

  “She may be tiny, but I will teach her how to use a sword,” Crista said.

  “That reminds me.” Chavez moved off the bed and placed his sleeping daughter in one of the two cradles by the bed. “I have something for you.” He gently took his son from Crista and placed him in the other cradle. He grew agitated and began to cry. Chavez picked him up and placed him next to his sleeping sister. As soon as the babies touched, his son quieted and slept peacefully. “It looks like Antonio Alejandro is already protecting his sister Maria Valerianna.”

  “I can’t wait for my parents and my brother and his wife and little Enrico to meet them,” Crista said.

  “They will be here tomorrow, since you insisted I wait to tell them.”

  “I wanted this time with you,” Crista said.

  Chavez went to take her outstretched hand, then stopped. “I almost forgot again. I have a gift for you.”

  “I don’t need a gift for giving you children,” Crista said.

  “It’s a special gift and it comes with a special note.” Chavez went to his chest near the door and returned to the bed with a piece of paper. “Read it while I get the gift.”

  Crista broke the seal on the folded paper and began to read.

  Dear Crista,

  We are overjoyed that you have found a good husband and are expecting your first child. I wish I could be there to deliver your baby, but I know you will do well. Your husband tells us you are very happy and that all goes well with your family. I am so pleased to know that.

  He also wrote that you have not forgotten us and that you speak of us often—your loving family in Spain. Know you are in our hearts and minds as well and that we miss you, but are happy for you.

  Your husband asked that we send a special something to you. That he requested it and that you confided in him about it is something that makes Ricardo and me know that you truly have found a good man.

  Be well and be happy, and know we love you and are happy for you.

  Lucia, Ricardo, and family.

  Crista wiped the tears away before they could fall and looked at her husband, and gasped. He stood beside the bed holding in his hands the sword Ricardo had given her. She couldn’t stop the tears, they rolled down her cheeks freely.

  “You sent for it,” she said.

  Chavez sat beside her on the bed, placing the sword on her lap. “When you told me about Ricardo teaching you how to fence and that he had gifted you with a special sword and you were not permitted to bring it home, I knew I had to get it for you. Besides, you never know when you might have to save me and I want you to have the perfect weapon to do so.”

  Crista laughed, her tears still falling. She touched the handle of the sword, the one she had practiced with endlessly, the one she had been brokenhea
rted to leave behind, the one a very special person had given to her out of love.

  “You don’t know what this means to me, Chavez.”

  He wiped away her tears with his thumb. “But, I do, mi amor, that’s why I sent for it. Of course, I don’t know what kind of reaction you’ll get when everyone asks what gift your husband bestowed on you for the birth of our babies.”

  “I will proudly display it and the skill that goes with it.”

  Chavez laughed. “Just make sure someone is there to catch your mother when she faints.”

  Crista laughed with him, then leaned forward and whispered. “While the nuns might not approve, I am blessed to have been captured by the devil.”

  Her husband brought his lips close to hers, ready to kiss her, but first he whispered, “And the devil intends to never let you go.”

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