When she finished practicing with the cartons, she dipped into the sack again, brought out six Cola cans, and did the same with them. However, the whip barely licked the last can, and it shuddered for a second before toppling over. When it happened again later, Consuelo frowned. Her aim was off today and she knew why.
Jake had been home for two weeks. Two weeks! And he hadn’t come to see her. And why should he? she thought. They hadn’t exactly parted on happy terms. Other than a couple short glances during her best friend Josie’s wedding almost two years ago, she hadn’t seen him for seven years. A throng of people had protected her from any personal contact with him during the reception, and then he was gone.
She stared ahead at pasture and trees. Almost everything that had any importance in her life could be traced to this spot. It had been here, where she stood now, that she and Jake had made plans to marry.
Only she’d married someone else.
Regret hung over her like a dark cloud. Regret that she hadn’t followed her heart, and remorse over the fact that she felt she’d had no other choice at the time.
Ironically, she stood on McKinnon land. The three brothers—Jake, the eldest; Logan; and Dylan--owned the ranchland together. She’d always loved this spot. Here, she and Jake had laughed and loved together. This small corner of the world had been theirs for a time.
Closing her eyes, she felt a sudden stab of longing as an image of their bodies joined together floated across her memory, and then, just as quickly, she pushed the memory aside, locking it away again.
The calming sound of moving water drew her gaze to the river. If she’d wanted to forget him, this had been the wrong place to come.
She sighed and began picking up cartons and cans, pitching them back into the sack. After she placed the sack and whip in the car, she glanced toward the river again. Usually, she took a quick dip after her practice session, and today the crystal-clear water looked especially inviting.
She reached down to unbutton her blouse, then changed her mind. Duty called. She couldn’t put off going over the books any longer.
As she climbed into her car, Consuelo wondered if she should find another place to practice. Dylan had given her permission to come here anytime she chose, but now that Jake had returned Consuelo wasn’t sure she’d be welcome anymore. She started the engine and, as she headed toward the main road, took one last look around.
Maybe she wouldn’t have to stop coming here. Maybe he wouldn’t find out.
And maybe crows would turn white.
On a ridge some distance away, a black stallion pawed the ground. His rider, equally as restless, watched Consuelo from beneath an oak shawled in strands of Spanish moss. As he watched her pitch the last can into the sack, he wondered what had possessed him to come here today. Maybe it was because he’d missed seeing the beauty of his land, or perhaps he’d just wanted to visit this particular spot again. Whatever his reason, he certainly hadn’t expected to see her here.
He had to admit she was still beautiful; her hourglass figure was a little rounder, fuller in places, but it agreed with her. Her body, silhouetted against the rising sun, looked as though she and the dawn were trying to outdo each other.
His eyes swept over her again. Tucked into her snug black jeans was a sleeveless red shirt, and encircling her small waist lay a silver hip-slung belt. A flat-crowned, black western hat sat low on her head, and snuggled halfway inside the hatband was an Eagle feather. As the sun climbed higher, it lit her skin and made it glow like soft amber.
Seven years fell away as he conjured up the summer day he’d given her that feather, and what they had done afterward. Beneath the hat, her beautiful midnight hair hung straight, reaching almost to her waist. Scarlet western boots completed her outfit.
He’d been faintly amused as he’d watched her using the whip, but a moment later felt a grudging respect for her. She was good. Very good.
By now, she was probably wondering why he hadn’t been to see her. He’d asked himself that same question. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He did, but he wanted it to be in his own good time and on his own terms.
As Consuelo drove away, the stallion snorted and pawed the ground again.
“I see you’re as restless as I am, Diablo. Let’s go.” He made a mental note of the day—Thursday—as he spurred the stallion homeward.
Pushing open the back door that led to the kitchen, Consuelo continued up the stairs.
She had owned Consuelo’s Mexican Restaurant for the past six years. Not wanting to travel the distance back and forth to her mother’s home, She had turned the upstairs into an apartment since she sometimes worked late into the night. Owning the restaurant had been her salvation and had kept her busy through the lonely months after her husband Rick’s death.
Twenty minutes later, she took one last peek in the full-length mirror on her closet door to make sure her slip didn’t show under the bright red uniform, which consisted of a full skirt and a peasant blouse that could be worn on or off the shoulder. She’d had the same uniform made for her female employees, while the male waiters wore black pants and red shirts.
She had an hour before the restaurant opened at eleven--time enough to plan the day and visit with her aunt Juana, who also her cook. Consuelo hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, taking in the familiar clatter of dishes and enticing aroma of cooking meat and spices.
Juana looked up from her daily ritual of making tortillas and nodded a greeting.
“Hola, Tia. How’s it going?”
“Bien. But you look tired. Are you getting any sleep?”
“Yes,” she lied, grabbing a flour tortilla and biting into it. “You know I’m a regular night owl. I’ll be fine.”
Juana looked skeptical. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“Goodness, Tia, do I look that bad? You’re going to give me a complex.” Wanting to change the subject, Consuelo asked, “How about you? Everything all right here?”
“Fine,” Juana replied. “Although if too many more people quit eating out, we’re going to be in trouble.”
It was true that business had slowed down a bit, but Consuelo was confident it would pick up again.
“Don’t worry. We’ve weathered bad times before.”
“If you say so,” Juana said as she took a pan out from under the counter, filled it with water, and began pouring pinto beans into it.
For a moment, Consuelo was filled with a sense of uneasiness. Maybe she shouldn’t confide in her aunt too much. But then Juana was the only person Consuelo trusted. She’d been a second mother to her, more so since she’d helped Consuelo through a couple of the worst years of her life.
Two of her waiters, Enrique and Sophia, entered the kitchen, saving Consuelo the trouble of having to reply to her aunt.
“Sophia, I’ll act as hostess until you relieve me around two, okay?”
“Sure,” Sophia said as she put her purse away. Consuelo always opened the restaurant at eleven, worked until three or so, then took off for a few hours and returned at six until the restaurant closed at ten. Sometimes she worked on through, as she would today to go over the books.
As the day wore on, the traffic of people filtered in and out until slowly the sun began to fade. At eight o’clock, Enrique walked past Consuelo as she sat in the kitchen eating her dinner. Carrying a tray, he stopped and said, “I’m delivering this to Senora Morales and her daughter, so if I’m not back in a few minutes, come get me.”
Consuelo grinned. Lena Morales had a habit of chatting too much, which tended to make people nervous . . . especially Enrique, who usually got caught waiting on her table. Her daughter Cierra was just the opposite-–quiet and shy. It was amazing how two people could be so close and yet so different.
Consuelo continued eating, but every now and then she glanced at Juana. Finally, she asked, “Tia, do you ever get tired of cooking all the time? I mean, are you happy?” She didn’t know why she’d asked; maybe because she felt so restless th
ese days.
Her aunt looked surprised. “Me? Why, yes. Why do you ask?”
Consuelo rose and took her empty plate over to the sink. “Just wondering. You work pretty hard around here. And I was thinking.” She turned to face Juana. “If you need extra time off for any reason, I’ll understand.”
Juana’s dark eyes narrowed suspiciously over her plump olive cheeks. “And why would I want to do that?”
Consuelo shrugged. “I just want you to know that I appreciate all you do around here and if you need some time off for any reason, you can take it. Paid vacation, of course,” she politely tacked on.
Juana picked up a large wooden spoon and stirred the beans. “If I decide to take off, I’ll let you know. You’d better go rescue Enrique.”
Consuelo peeked through the small glass window of the kitchen door and spied Lena Morales chattering nonstop, her hands moving in quick birdlike gestures. As Consuelo headed for their table, she wondered how long Lena could talk without stopping to catch her breath.
Enrique looked relieved when he saw her. Cierra glanced up and smiled sweetly.
“Oh, hello, Consuelo,” Lena said. “I was just telling Enrique he should go to TSU.”
Consuelo smiled. “I’m sure Enrique will make the right decision when the time comes. And how are you two ladies this evening?” she said, steering the conversation away from Enrique. He threw her a grateful look and hurried back to the kitchen.
“Never better. We’ve been shopping today.”
“Sounds exciting. I’d better let you two eat before your food gets cold.”
“Wait!” Lena shouted.
Consuelo turned.
“I suppose you know Jake is back?”
Consuelo nodded as she met Lena’s speculative glance.
“Didn’t you two date in high school?”
“Yes, for a while.” The dating had continued long after high school, but she wasn’t about to fuel Lena’s imagination.
“Oh, my dear, he’s such a nice man.”
And a bachelor, Consuelo thought, smiling at Cierra. “Yes, he always was. Excuse me, I have to make a call.”
“Oh, but I have some news,” Lena said. When Consuelo made no move to leave, Lena continued excitedly. “We . . . Cierra, that is, invited him to our home for dinner next Thursday and he accepted. Has he eaten here? Do you know what his favorite food is?”
Consuelo considered the question. “I wish I could be more help, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Jake. I’m sure his tastes have changed since then.”
Lena aimed a wide smile at Consuelo. “Well, no matter. We may ask one of his brothers. Or better yet, we’ll visit Jake across the street. You know he bought Salvador’s building, don’t you?” She glanced around to see if anyone else was listening, then lowered her voice an octave. “Of course it’s probably just a tax write-off. I have it on good authority that he’s been buying up property around here with plans to develop it.”
Consuelo shifted uneasily. “That’s interesting, Lena, but you know, even if he does build on the land, he doesn’t necessarily have to remain here. He can pick up and move on to the next project any time he chooses. He can work from anywhere.”
“Yes, but he told us he’s setting up his office in that building, and just think, it’s right across the street from you. I’m surprised he hasn’t told you,” Lena ended on a curious note.
Consuelo shrugged. “He’s probably been busy. Well, ladies, I wish you luck with the dinner.” Consuelo’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. A stab of something closely resembling jealousy surprised her. She was pretty certain Lena was trying to find Cierra a husband, and the fact that Jake was a bachelor and rich was no doubt enough to make Lena drool.
Lena winked conspiratorially. “She’d be lucky to snag such a catch as Jake, don’t you think?”
“Mother, please, you’re embarrassing me,” Cierra said, smiling shyly at Consuelo.
Relieved to be spared from replying, Consuelo returned the smile. “I’d better get you more tea. Be right back, ladies.”
After quickly refilling their tea glasses, Consuelo stopped Enrique on his way to another table. “Tell Juana that if she needs me, I’ll be in my office.”
Consuelo was about to enter her office when the hostess approached. “Dylan just called and made reservations for a homecoming dinner party for Jake Saturday night.”
“For how many?”
“Ten.”
Something flickered in Consuelo’s eyes. “Put them in the Toucan room.”
A minute later, Consuelo closed the door behind her, then went over and sat down at her desk. She picked up a letter opener and proceeded to open the stack of mail on her desk. Soon there were three stacks of opened mail in front of her: junk mail, receipts, and invoices. She opened her top drawer, reached in, and took out her checkbook, then began to write out a check for each invoice.
Fifteen minutes later, she glared at the check in her hand in frustration. Twice she’d made a mistake in the dollar amount. Leaning back, she closed her eyes. Saturday was only two days away. Sandera was a small town; she knew that eventually she and Jake would run into each other, especially if he was going to be across the street every day. But now the thought of actually seeing him in two days, made her uneasy.
Would he speak to her? She wondered.
Finding it difficult to concentrate, she looked out the window just in time to see Cierra and her mother leave the restaurant. Cierra was a pretty girl, about twenty-four, perhaps a little young for Jake, who was thirty-two. But then what did age matter in affairs of the heart?
A vision of Jake having dinner with Cierra made Consuelo frown. She could well imagine the welcome Jake would get from Lena. He would enter her elegant dining room, where the table would be set with delicate white china, and crystal glasses, and shiny silverware. Once they were seated, Lena would most likely make some excuse that she’d forgotten to return an important phone call and leave her daughter in charge. Across the candlelit table, Cierra would turn her innocent eyes toward Jake.
Consuelo blinked and grabbed another invoice.
He certainly hadn’t wasted any time, she thought, somewhat miffed.
She gazed at the invoice in her hand and stared at it for so long her eyes grew tired. Finally, her eyelashes fluttered closed and she drifted off.
Chapter 2 TD&D
His sunbaked body lay before her, strong and powerful looking, with thickly muscled shoulders—testimony of a man who was used to working outdoors.
An evocative smile turned up the corners of her mouth and her eyes danced at the erotic sight before her. She wanted to say something, but his raw, masculine beauty held her spellbound. In the background, the strains of a Spanish ballad filled the air and a woman’s husky voice joined in, her words full of the passion and longing of unrequited love. But it was the singer’s suffering tone that shook her more than the words.
She swayed with the music as she stood behind the counter in her kitchen. She wore nothing but an apron boldly patterned with leopard print, its ruffled lacing barely covering her breasts. Her nipples strained against the soft, cotton fabric as she felt them swell.
Inhaling, she caught the scent of his woodsy aftershave as it mingled with the more pungent aromas of cumin, freshly cut rosemary, and oregano. She glanced at him again as he lay on the counter, looking faintly amused but silent.
She blinked. Suddenly he had shrunk until his body was barely the length of a spoon. And he was lying on a tortilla.
As the last sad strains of music melted into silence, the wall clock softly chimed midnight. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she scooped up the bottle of salsa and spooned some over his body, then slathered guacamole on top and rolled him up in the tortilla. She opened her mouth and—
“Consuelo!”
Consuelo frowned. A thumping somewhere near her head kept getting louder.
“Consuelo! Are you in there? Wake up,” the voice repeated.
&n
bsp; Slumped over, with her elbow propped on the desk and palm cradling her head, Consuelo jumped slightly, slowly opened one eye, and saw Juana’s face peering down at her.
“Caramba, that’s the second time this week you’ve fallen asleep in here. Why don’t you go on up to bed?” Consuelo straightened and yawned. “I’m fine, just a little tired. Did you need something?”
Juana peered at her more closely. “It’s closing time.”
Startled, Consuelo glanced at the wall clock. Ten p.m. “I must’ve lost track of time.”
“Are you certain you’re all right?”
“I’m positive. I’ll be up front in a minute.”
“I’ll be glad to close up, if you want.”
“Thanks, Tia, but that won’t be necessary. I’m wide-awake now. Why don’t you go on home?”
“If you’re sure you don’t need me.” Juana still didn’t sound convinced as she leaned down to pick up an invoice that had fluttered to the floor.
“No. Please go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After Juana had closed the door behind her, Consuelo blinked the sleep out of her eyes and sighed. She’d dreamed of Jake again. The second time this week. The first dream had been just as ridiculous as this one. Good grief, they’d been frolicking in a vat of warm chocolate.
Consuelo put her checkbook away, locked the top drawer, and rose. She had to quit thinking about him. And she had to stop expecting him to walk through her door just to come see her.
That must be it, she thought with sudden insight. Tonight her dream must have been a message that she was upset with Jake. After all, one didn’t forget the love of their life, did they? She certainly hadn’t.
When she entered the main dining room, Enrique was vacuuming.
“Why don’t you go on home, Enrique? There haven’t been enough people here today to mess up the floor.”
“Must be spring fever. People are thinking of other things besides food,” he teased.
Consuelo smiled. How’s school?”
He shrugged. “Fine. I have finals coming up next week.”
Destination: Love (The Sandera, Texas Series) Page 14
