His Temporary Wife

by Leslie P. García

“You seem to be defending him.”

  “He’s got a name in this town. But he didn’t earn it—at least, he don’t deserve it.” Her fingers drummed an irregular beat on the table. “How’d you hear about it? He look you up?”

  “My aunt asked me to talk to him—set up the interview, I guess. She didn’t give me a clue what kind of job I was applying for.”

  Something changed in Lillie Mae’s face, almost imperceptibly.

  “You don’t like my aunt, either?”

  “No, girl, I don’t. But one thing everyone in this town respects is family. We don’t choose ’em, but we honor ’em to the grave and beyond. Don’t you mind what you hear about your aunt any more than what you hear about Rafael Benton.”

  “I have to tell you that I wouldn’t have even gone to ask about the job if my aunt had told me what it was.” Esme took a bit more of the orange juice and vodka, more slowly, thinking, but not understanding. “Lillie Mae, I don’t get it,” she admitted. “Why did Rafael tell me to come here? What do you have to do with anything?”

  “Well, a couple things, I guess. Look, I ain’t gonna tell you I think Rafael’s doing the right thing, but you oughta hear him out, ’specially since he might not even choose you anyway.”

  Gee, thanks.

  “You’d be helpin’ some good folks, if his crazy idea works. I told him he was crazy when he came to me, but he knows I’d never lie for him if I thought he was twistin’ the truth or tryin’ to do something wrong. And I won’t tell you why he’s so set on this fool plan of his, ’cept that it’s for family, and family’s sacred—to me and him both. I believe one-hundred percent his job offer’s just that—the strangest damned job a woman could get rich doing.”

  “Any other reason you’re in this?”

  “Well, I’m gonna sound full of myself, but ain’t nobody gonna believe a marriage here in Truth is legit if I’m not right there in the weddin’ party. Last couple that got hitched here had me and Babe drive ’em to the bus stop to take off on their honeymoon. Made the front page of the Truth Trumpet.”

  Esme nodded. “So—and I’m not asking advice, because like you said, I’m a big girl with a counseling degree—I should talk to Rafael Benton one more time? Give him a chance to explain this … weird predicament.”

  Lillie Mae beamed. “Knew you were a smart girl.” She winked. “When you’re as old as me, dumb’s just plain easy to see.”

  Esme smiled slightly in spite of herself. Truth be known, she often told herself something similar. “So I just have one last question,” she added.

  “Hit me,” Lillie Mae invited.

  “What’s up with the stupid steer? I mean, okay, the Hill Country, tourists, Texas state large mammal, but …”

  Lillie Mae drew herself up. “Don’t never insult one of my longhorns,” she warned. “My ma and pa raised ’em afore me. They’re family.” She finished her water without lowering the glass, then set it down. “Besides,” she said, conspiratorially, “they’re our only claim to fame. Bandera is older and claimed the ‘Cowboy Capital of the World’ title long ago. So we have to do more to attract attention. They have longhorns all over, but ours are more public. We had Cody, for awhile. And we’re lookin’ for the next big thing. Meanwhile, I bring Babe to town most every day.”

  “For this little one horse town?”

  “One bull town,” Lillie Mae amended, then laughed out loud. “Okay, not quite a bull, but close. Lots of tourists don’t ask or know where to look. And honey, this town? I love it. I’d do anything to keep it from dryin’ up the way so many do.”

  Esme fished a bill out of her wallet and stood, laying the bill on the table. “Nice to meet you, Lillie Mae. Take care.” She bit back an urge to tell the old woman she’d talk to Rafael Benton again. She would, but it wasn’t anyone’s business but hers.

  • • •

  The dogs weren’t on the porch and Rafael’s flashy pickup wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I’m batting a thousand. First I don’t call my aunt Tina, now I don’t call Rafael Benton. She glanced at her truck. Her cell phone was in the cup holder of the console, and her aunt had given her his number. Or, she could march up the stairs and ask the snotty Ms. Thompson where she could find him. Marie didn’t like her, and that knowledge alone stiffened her resolve. She’d spent her lifetime confronting dislike, only occasionally from anything she’d done. Oh, give me a break. I do occasionally flaunt my pride just a little. And that’s when I’m being the lovable me. She was grinning a little at the self admission when the door opened and Marie stepped out, not even faking a smile.

  “Ms. Salinas. Mr. Benton didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

  “He didn’t know. Where can I find him?”

  “He isn’t here.” The woman cast a glance around almost as if expecting him to appear suddenly and steal her control. “I’ll take a message—”

  “Where can I find him?” Esme repeated. “Because I left my phone in my truck and I can call him, but since he invited me …”

  Marie colored a little, not missing the emphasis on who had called whom. “He’s down at the river,” she said, sweeping a glance over Esme’s still unchanged attire. “But it’s steep and dirty there. You probably should wait. I’ll call him.”

  “I can do that. I’m sure he’ll give me directions.”

  Marie’s face grew redder and tighter. “You follow the trail there—it runs across the pasture and into the tree line. Just follow it until you find him.” She spat the words out with a drumming cadence meant to intimidate. “This ranch has livestock, Ms. Salinas. If you open a gate, close it. And don’t run over the dogs.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Esme said, and Marie stared at her a moment more before slamming back into the house.

  Esme was still grinning by the time the truck jolted over another root-filled crevice in the path down to the river and she saw Rafael’s truck parked at an angle where the path ended. She pulled the truck up beside it and slid out, pulling her skirt down and casting a dubious glance at her heels. She’d be amazed if they held up to much more hiking around over stones, exposed roots, and …

  A lizard skittered over her foot, and she shrieked and kicked, startled, and somehow wound up on her butt in the dirt by the truck. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a flash of gold and heard barking that sounded more like rolling thunder. She hadn’t seen Rafael, but she’d certainly found his dogs. Or they’d found her. They were standing, splay-legged, heads down, clearly being protective of someone. She’d never thought of Danes as dangerous, but from her position, they were sooo big.

  What were their names? Luc and—

  “Good boys. Good Luc …”

  One of the dogs stopped barking and tilted his head.

  “Chief, Luc. Stop!” She heard Rafael before she saw him. The dogs heard him, too, and immediately came up to her, tails wagging, now completely willing to be friendly. She raised an arm to fend it off, but one of the Danes managed a quick slap of its tongue across her face.

  “Yuck!” she muttered, dragging her arm over her mouth. “Idiot dog!” The dogs didn’t look abashed, though, and she heard Rafael laughing.

  “I’m sorry.” He chuckled as he pushed the Danes away and reached down to help her up. “I couldn’t help remembering that little girl in the Peanuts cartoon—the one who hated it when the dog kissed her.”

  In spite of herself, Esmeralda smiled a little, remembering the ongoing gag. When Rafael’s hand closed around hers and eased her up, she tried to ignore the warmth and strength of his fingers locking hers inside his hand, or the way he reached out with his other hand to support her arm as she stood, setting off tiny sparks of heat where his skin met hers.

  “Marie should have let me know you were coming,” he said, noting her disheveled clothing. “I’d have made sure the dogs behaved. Are you okay? You didn’t … sit down too hard?” In spite of the concern in his eyes, she saw his dimples appear and heard a note of amusement in his voice.

  “I sat dow
n plenty hard. I’m not sure how you judge too hard,” she retorted. “Marie gave me directions. Guess she decided you’d figure it out when you saw me.”

  “I’ll have to talk to her. So, what brought you here?” He indicated the thick growth on banks sloping down to an unseen body of water.

  Without answering immediately, she carefully walked over the rough terrain until she could see what the growth and distance hid.

  “Y’all call that a river?” she asked, sarcastically.

  “We all weren’t born long side the Rio Grande,” Rafael retorted, moving up behind her to look down at the small stream gurgling over small stones. “Although, actually, I guess we both were.”

  That surprised her. Esme turned a little, careful not to catch a heel and fall on her behind again. “Really? You? I didn’t know the Bentons were ever there.”

  “They—we—have been there. But I was born there. I’m adopted.”

  She turned to face him then, surprised. “So Cody …”

  “Was my little sister,” he answered. “Period.”

  “Okay.” She fell silent, not knowing where she wanted the conversation to go. He didn’t say anything else for a while, just stared out over the landscape. Then he sighed and waved a hand at the truck.

  “Luc, Chief, in, boys.”

  The dogs, apparently somewhere nearby, materialized out of the undergrowth and jumped easily up into the bed of the pickup. Those were the rambunctious mutts who’d threatened her?

  “Nice,” she muttered. “They listen remarkably well when they’re not knocking someone off their feet.”

  “I didn’t see you coming,” he explained. “Again … I’ll speak to Marie. I’m sorry about your dress.”

  “What’s wrong with my dress?” she demanded, smoothing her hands over the sides and glancing down at the front.

  His eyes followed the path of her hands and something sparked in his dark eyes. Something hot and enticing. Not to be encouraged, she reminded herself. This was the man who’d offered to “buy” her.

  “You … um … sat down hard enough the dirt kind of … clung.” He started out searching carefully for words, then suddenly shrugged and flashed her a grin. “You’ve got a nice print of your ass on the back of your skirt.”

  “Shoot!” She ran her hands over the unseen print, feeling the dampness and grit. “It’s probably wrecked.”

  “I’ll replace it. The dogs …”

  She couldn’t let him blame the dogs; she’d fallen before they arrived. She suddenly wished one of her promises to herself back in Rose Creek hadn’t been to be as honest as possible. Taking advantage of any situation had been a strength of hers up until a few short months ago.

  “They didn’t knock me down. I’d already tripped and fallen.”

  “Still. You must have come here to find me. Did Lillie Mae have anything to do with this?”

  “Lillie Mae!” She shook her head slightly. “Cantankerous old woman. Yet from everything I’ve heard, she’s like the town conscience or something.”

  “Something,” he agreed, smiling again. “She can make or break you here in Truth.”

  “Why did you tell me to go see her? She took my head off for being stupid enough to need advice. She knew I was a counselor. Did you know that?”

  “Everyone in Truth knows that. Didn’t you say you came here from a small town?”

  “Yes, but …”

  “Everyone knows. But I figured she’d at least assure you I’m not some depraved sex fiend trying to buy you for a summer of … whatever depraved sex fiends do.”

  She looked around at the deserted surroundings. She didn’t feel threatened, not at all. But she didn’t want to sit on a tailgate in the middle of nowhere in a dirty dress and discuss Rafael Benton’s insane job offer. Before she could say that, though, his phone rang.

  He pulled it out of his pocket, checked the number, and declined it. “Not important,” he explained. “Look, Esmeralda, let me show you something. Then maybe we can go back to the house and talk. Here.”

  He handed her the phone. She looked at it blankly. The phone screen was of a cute kid with blue eyes and dimples. His? She blinked.

  “So?” she asked.

  “That’s my nephew, Justin. Cody’s little boy.” He paused, let her look again at the picture, then gently retrieved his phone. “He’s why I need a wife.”

  • • •

  They wound up in the covered gazebo in a garden behind the gloomy house. The garden was walled on three sides with the white and gray rock so common in the area, and like the other gardens she’d spotted when she came the first time, had a mixture of flowers she recognized, from canna lilies to roses. Hummingbirds darted around, additional bits of color, iridescent sparks in the sun.

  “If it’s too hot, we can go in,” Rafael suggested. “Your dress really isn’t a problem. I don’t obsess over the furnishings or anything.”

  “Hmpf. Out here’s fine.” Nothing you can say will actually interest me. I’m just here … because I’m curious. Nosy. That’s why I’m here.

  Glum-faced Marie must have been chastised when Rafael stopped by the house, because when she brought out a pitcher of tea and bottles of water she greeted Esmeralda formally, put down the drinks, and left.

  Serves her right for thinking I’m after the boss. “So, tell me what your nephew has do with this really strange nonsense you’re spouting,” Esme said, after sipping some of the tea Rafael handed her. “Not that I think anything you say will convince me you’re not …”

  “Crazy? My best friend thinks I might be. But at least he knows my mom and dad, and what happened with Cody.”

  “Where’s Justin now?”

  “At my folks’s home outside Dallas. They had a business trip to Europe planned for some time and couldn’t take him.”

  “But they didn’t leave him with you?” she pressed gently.

  “No.” He stared off for a moment at the horizon, then drew in a deep breath and faced her. “He stayed with my Nana Ellen. She’s the woman who took care of me when my parents had to travel and I was in school.”

  “But you’re here and they’re not?”

  “He’s used to the house there and they didn’t want to move him.” He stood up and walked to the far side of the gazebo, distancing himself, and then turned to add, “I don’t know that they trust me with him. Yet.”

  He didn’t sound agitated, but Esmeralda noticed the faint tightening of his lips and his hands knotted against his hips. She didn’t want to press, but she wanted to know more. “Why would you think that? I don’t understand …”

  “I didn’t keep Cody safe for them. My one job and I couldn’t do it.” Now the defeat in his voice was unmistakable. Strangely, she felt sudden empathy for this man she didn’t know at all. How could parents blame one child for the death of another from a drug overdose, especially when both were adults? Her parents’s condemnation of her relationship with Toby had inflicted wounds that never quite seemed to go away. They’d done everything they could to drive Toby away, even filing police reports and threatening to send her to live with her father’s family in Michigan. Toby had caved, joining the Army to prove he was responsible and willing to support Esmeralda. He had died, just as Cody had, and she still blamed herself sometimes. And her parents. But how unfair of his parents if they truly blamed him for Cody’s death. And how unbearable would it be to have your sister’s child kept from you because of her own mistakes?

  “Rafael …”

  He raised a hand. “That probably sounded defensive. I don’t mean it to be. I blame myself for what happened, probably more than they do. My parents are great people, Esmeralda. They picked me up—pretty much literally—off the street when I was a ten-year-old. Full of hate and anger. I don’t remember everything, but I know Dad and Mom met me when I was breaking the windows out of their Cadillac.”

  “They must be really good-hearted, if they wanted you after you ruined their car,” she observed, wanting to hea
r more, unable to imagine the successful man across from her had ever been poor. She could believe the anger, though; she had heard anger in his voice when he muttered that he’d kill someone.

  She should remember the Rafael who claimed he’d been full of hate and dismiss the thoughts that kept teasing her senses. About how good he looked in the perfectly fit jeans and snug T-shirt. About how he’d stolen her breath when he came up behind her in the mirror that day at her aunt’s.

  “They’re the best people in the world,” he said, and came over to sit down again, leaning toward her, sincerity clear in his voice. “But they believe what they believe, and no one can make them compromise their principles. They’re business people and they built an empire from nothing, so it’s not like they’re these rigid monsters who can’t work with others.”

  She thought she could figure out why he was telling her that, but …

  “My mom has worked with children from broken homes for thirty years. When she’s at home, she’s volunteering. And she and Dad believe absolutely that children should have two parents—they believe in marriage.” He smiled fondly. “They’re working on forty years and they love each other like crazy. Guess they can’t see past their own love for each other.”

  “But, today …”

  “They accept that not everyone will be married. Not all marriages are happy. They get that. But they fight it. Dad offers marriage counseling to his employees who want to try it. He has single mothers who work for him. He and Mom are fine with that, except for occasional subtle efforts to match lonely souls.” He smiled a little. “They haven’t had a lot of success with that, from what I’ve heard. In fact, there has been the occasional bad publicity or lawsuit. But they mean well and mostly, everyone understands that about them. They were raised by poor parents who had very little, but who loved their families beyond anything, and that’s what they want for Justin. And for me.”

  The tenderness and conviction in his voice almost brought tears to her eyes. Her mother Adriana and father Eduardo had celebrated their thirty-fifth anniversary last year. They were still together, but the happiness and joy seemed to be missing—always had, really. They professed to love their children and each other, but the atmosphere had been so constrained, so lacking in excitement or enthusiasm. She straightened a little, though, reminding herself not to judge on what he said. He was, after all, trying to paint his own picture. She had no idea if he was being truthful.