Magda ventured into the dimly lit parlor to pay her last respects to John, but the sight of the big man in death disturbed her to the core. The memory of his booming voice and laughing eyes sent her scurrying to her room in tears. Knowing it could’ve been her husband didn’t help. After checking on Willem, she tiptoed across the hall to Bertha’s room.
Bertha let her in then crawled to the middle of the bed and propped her back against the wall. “It’s never easy to look eternity in the face, is it? Especially when it’s a man as alive as John was.”
Magda kicked off her shoes and crawled up beside her. “He was a fine man. I feel for Kate. I don’t see how she’ll manage.”
Bertha grew silent, staring down at her fingers she’d laced together in her lap. Deep furrows creased her brow.
Magda turned over and patted her arm. “What’s wrong, sugar? Something’s in your craw.”
Bertha lifted her brows. “Is this my fault?”
Magda frowned and drew her head back. “Is what your fault?”
Bertha’s thin hand fluttered through the air. “The whole thing—John’s death, what happened to Willem...”
“Oh, Bertha. Of course not.”
Bertha sat up, pleading the case against herself. “If I hadn’t insisted on coming to South Texas, if I hadn’t forced you all to find me some cattle, Willem wouldn’t be lying across the hall with a hole in his head, and John would be sitting to supper with his family tonight.”
Magda picked up her hand and squeezed. “You stop this instant. Willem could just as easily have fallen down the stairs at home. And John had a bad heart. This was coming with or without you.”
She nodded thoughtfully and propped her head on her arms. “I do wish we’d paid closer attention and taken John to a doctor. He was feeling poorly that day, remember? Pale as paste and green around the gills.”
Sadness filled Magda’s chest. “I remember. But at the time, we all looked a little ragged from the heat.” She let go a weary sigh. “I can’t see any way to have avoided his death. I’m just grateful he was right with the Lord so we’ll see him again one day.” She glanced at Bertha. “That fact alone will comfort Willem. I dread breaking the news to him.”
Bertha’s wide eyes darkened with pity. “I wouldn’t be in a big hurry. There’ll be plenty of time to tell him when he’s stronger.”
Magda touched her arm. “He will get stronger, won’t he, Bertha?”
Bertha winked. “I reckon he’s bound to once the good Lord tires of my voice. I’ve sent up more than my share of prayers on Willem’s behalf.” She gave Magda a weighty look. “I don’t want to watch you grieve the way I did for Thad.”
Magda shuddered. “That makes two of us. I hope I never see another soul experience loss the way you did.”
They were silent, Magda picking at a thread on the sheet, Bertha leaning back on her arms staring at the ceiling.
After a bit she leaned to nudge Magda. “Besides, you need Willem. Otherwise you’ll be going back to that big house in Humble all alone.”
Magda studied her mischievous face. “What are you talking about?”
Bertha beamed like a preacher on Sunday. “Don’t tell me you expect to leave this ranch with Emmy in tow?”
Shooting upright, Magda offered a scowl. “I certainly do. Why shouldn’t I?”
Bertha shook her head. “Honey, you must be blind because I know you ain’t stupid. The only way you’ll get Emmy to Humble is to tuck Diego in her satchel—and he won’t fit.” She bent over and pinched Magda’s cheeks. “Our Emmy’s in love or my name ain’t Bertha Bloom. I reckon you’d best start adjusting to the idea. Your daughter will be staying in South Texas.”
***
Tormented by his thoughts, Diego gazed toward the light in the parlor window, wondering how he’d ever imagined himself a part of the Rawson family. John Rawson had sought him out, encouraged him, and groomed him in the role of a son. Young, fatherless, and confused about his place in the world, Diego had lapped up the attention.
Ironic that Cuddy had felt such envy. In Mr. Rawson’s final hour, he called for Cuddy, clung to Cuddy’s hand as he drew his final breath. Diego hadn’t even had a chance to say good-bye.
Even now, the family grieved together behind closed doors while Diego watched from the outside.
The worst evidence of his true place in the Rawsons’ lives—Cuddy’s silence on the ride home.
Scooting closer on the low wall of the patio, Emmy touched his hand. “What can I do?”
He laced his fingers with hers. “You’re doing it.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Diego lowered his head and gave her a sideways glance. “There’s not much to tell. We found him too late.” He released a shuddering breath. “Actually, I think it was too late from the first day.”
Emmy squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
He nodded. “He only lasted a few minutes after we got to him.” He raised his head. “He was hanging on just long enough to talk to Cuddy.”
Surprise sparked in her eyes. “And?”
He shrugged. “It was a private conversation.”
“And Cuddy didn’t—”
He shook his head.
Emmy lifted her face to the sky. “I’m so glad they had the chance to talk. I pray Mr. Rawson said the right things.” She faced him. “It will make all the difference in Cuddy’s life.”
Diego remained silent.
“It shows incredible strength, doesn’t it?” she continued. “Living until he could talk to Cuddy. It’s just the sort of thing a man like him would do.” Emmy’s chin shot up and she winced. “Diego, what’s wrong?”
Realizing he’d tightened his fingers around her hand, he released her and covered his face. “I didn’t get to tell him good-bye.”
Emmy gave a soft gasp. “You didn’t speak to him at all?”
He shook his head. “I wanted to.”
“But he didn’t ask for you.” It wasn’t a question. She had figured it out.
Unable to answer, he wagged his head again.
Her arms went around him. “Oh, Diego. I’m so sorry, but I know exactly why he didn’t.”
“So do I,” he whispered. “I’m not his son.”
She pushed off the wall and stooped at his feet. “Look at me.” She pulled his hands from his face. “Look at me, please.”
He lifted his gaze to her passionate eyes.
“John Rawson knew he was dying and out of chances to make things right—and he had to make them right for Cuddy’s sake.” She cupped his cheek. “Mr. Rawson didn’t call for you, and I know that hurts, but he didn’t call for his wife or Greta either. He called for Cuddy because he needed his son’s forgiveness.”
“She’s right, amigo.”
Cuddy bounded down the back steps and sat on the wall beside them. Draping his arm around Diego’s neck, he gave him a little shake. “Forgive me for leaving you hanging, brother.”
The nickname tightened Diego’s gut.
Cuddy shook him harder. “Don’t give me that look. We are brothers. I haven’t been a very good one, but I plan to do better in the future.” He smiled softly. “Starting with an explanation.”
Diego stiffened. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Shut up and listen.”
Emmy stood. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
Cuddy caught her arm. “No, you won’t. I have a feeling what I’m about to say has a lot to do with your future.” He waved at the wall. “Sit down.”
Emmy sat, a puzzled frown on her face.
Cuddy braced his hands on the rough stones. “To start off, Emmy’s right. I figured I owed my father a pretty big apology, but he apologized to me instead.” He drew a shaky breath. “He told me while he lay helpless under the stars listening to the coyotes howl and thinking about dying he realized he had wronged me by not accepting me for who I was. He said he was sorry for forcing the ranch down my throat and for trying to turn me into him
.” Cuddy stared across the shadowy yard, reliving the conversation. “He said his biggest regret was being so busy trying to change me he never took time to appreciate who I was.”
Ashamed of the envious thoughts he’d harbored, Diego wanted to hang his head, but Cuddy twisted around to look at him. “Father said things to me today I never thought I’d hear come out of his mouth, and I’m so blasted grateful. Then he told me to take care of Mother and Greta.” His eyes burned into Diego’s. “But his last words were for you.”
The breath caught in Diego’s throat. “For me?”
“He told me to tell you he loves you.” Tears swam in Cuddy’s eyes. He wiped them away with his sleeve. “Then he kissed me goodbye, and he was gone.”
Diego wrapped his arm around Cuddy’s neck and pulled his head to his chest. They sat quietly, Diego praying for forgiveness. He had longed for Mr. Rawson to accept Cuddy then got jealous when he did. He had also doubted the most important man in his life.
Cuddy sat up and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “There’s one more thing. It looks like you’re stuck with me for a while considering we’re joint heirs.”
Diego stared, struggling to understand. “What are you saying?”
He shrugged. “Father got the last laugh, it seems. He left half of this accursed ranch to me.” Eyes twinkling, he raised his brows at Diego. “And the other half to you. We’re business partners, brother.”
Diego’s head reeled. It was the most meaningful gesture of adoption Mr. Rawson could bestow. “I don’t believe it.”
Cuddy elbowed him. “You’d better start. Father changed his will before he left for Catarina.” He shrugged and his eyes softened. “Before he died, he asked me if I minded. I told him what I’d already told you. I couldn’t run this place without you.” He ducked his head. “I suppose he’d been hiding symptoms. I expect it was the reason for all of his talk about leaving the ranch in capable hands. It seems he decided that should be you and me.”
Still unable to grasp the truth, Diego pressed further. “What about your mother? And Greta?”
Cuddy glanced toward the house. “He left them well cared for. Besides, those two don’t belong in South Texas. Especially now that Father’s gone. Too many memories.”
The news stunned Diego. He turned his gaze toward the house. “What will they do?”
“They’re going back to England. Mother had already decided to send Greta to Ripponden for her education. Now she plans to join her.” He placed his hand on Diego’s back. “As for me, you won’t mind if I do a bit of traveling before I settle down to cattle ranching?” He grinned. “I figure you can muddle along without me for a while.”
Diego smiled. “I’ll do my best. Where will you go?”
Staring in the direction of the road, Cuddy took a deep, cleansing breath. “There’s a lot out there I’ve yet to lay eyes on. I’ve always wanted to do my part to curtail the violence along the Rio Grande. I might see if I can give the Texas Rangers a hand.” His face brightened. “Of course, you know they just had that big earthquake in San Francisco. Who knows what a fellow could get into out there?” He cocked his head. “Then there’s always the East Coast.”
Emmy leaned to look past Diego. “I’m confused, Cuddy. This is all wonderful news, but what does any of it have to do with my future?”
Cuddy stood. “I think that’s my cue to leave you two alone.” He winked at Diego. “Do yourself a favor and enlighten the lady, amigo.”
His head reeling, Diego watched his friend take long strides to the porch.
In sparse words and spare minutes, Cuddy had removed every obstacle standing between Diego and the woman he loved. Before Diego could look at Emmy again, he took a moment to accept it, to allow the truth to burrow deep inside his gut.
The gift God had granted him through John Rawson was a great deal more than part ownership in a South Texas ranch. It was something he didn’t have before, a life worthy to offer Emmy so he could ask her to be his wife. And though the loss of the man would never be worth the inheritance, with Emmy at his side, Diego would honor John Rawson’s wishes and do his best to run the ranch with capable hands.
She tugged at his sleeve. “Diego?”
He couldn’t suppress his silly grin. He gave up trying and turned. “Yes?”
“What did Cuddy mean?”
He tilted his head and studied her guileless eyes. The rascal. Surely she knew, but she would make him say it.
“In his inimitable way, Cuddy was inferring that your future lies here on the Twisted-R Ranch with us.” He picked up her hand. “With me.”
She knew, all right. The twitch of her lips gave her away. She lowered her eyes to their tangled fingers. “And what do you think about that?”
Diego stood, pulling her to her feet and wrapping his arms around her waist. “My impatient nature yearns to stomp about and order it done. But a gentleman must leave the decision in the lady’s hands.”
Swirling her around so the lantern on the low wall would light their faces, he raised one brow. “Well, then? Has the lady reached a decision?”
Sadness darkened her features, snuffing the glow of her broad smile.
He tilted her head up to his. “Forgive me, Emmy. I don’t mean to rush you. I’ll wait ... as long as it takes.”
Her brows drew into a knot. “It’s not that, Diego. I just ... well, I was thinking about Papa. We’re supposed to ask for his blessing.”
Diego leaned back and released his breath in a rush. “Your father’s blessing. Of course. And I will ask him, Emmy. Your papa will recover very soon. You must believe this. And when he does, I’ll ask for his lovely daughter’s hand.”
Smiling down at her again, he kissed her softly on her pouting mouth. “And this is your final objection?”
She bit her bottom lip as if to corral her amusement. It didn’t work. “Well, there is one more.”
He blinked. “One more?”
She nodded. “You haven’t really asked me yet.”
Stunned, Diego stared at her. Shaking his head at his own incompetence, he guided her back to the wall and eased her down. Lowering himself to one knee, he took her by the hand. “Miss Dane? If you will allow me ... I’d like to correct my blunder.”
***
Diego opened the door of the jacal and gazed inside. His mother glanced over her shoulder and then rose from her knees where she’d been praying. “Come in, son.” She started for the stove. “I saved you some bean soup. It won’t take a minute to warm.”
He crossed the room and took her shoulders, guiding her toward the kitchen table. “It’s not food I’ve come for.”
Curiosity flickered on her face. “Oh?”
He sat down across from her. “I’ve come to tell you some news.” Smiling, she reached across the table for his hands. “What news do you have for me?”
He ducked his head and peered into her eyes. “Suppose I said you never have to leave the Twisted-R Ranch?”
Her brows crowded together. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
He squeezed her fingers. “What if you could move to the big house, pick out the room of your choice? You wouldn’t have to stand over a hot stove anymore because Rosita would cook our food. One day you’d bounce my children on your knee under the portico. You’d grow old and die right here on this land and be buried beside the river.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Or would you prefer to be buried next to the onion fields behind the jacal?”
Scowling darkly, his mother pursed her lips. “Diego! Before you plant me with the onions, first explain what you’re saying.”
He drew back. She had called him Diego, the only time in his life she’d done so. “What did you say?”
“I said to tell me what you’re babbling about.”
“No, why did you call me Diego?”
Pain dimming her eyes, she released his hands and lifted her chin. “It’s your name, isn’t it?”
For the second time in one nig
ht, Diego’s head spun. In one glaring second, he saw the truth. His mother’s efforts to keep him proud of his Choctaw roots were really a refusal to allow him to be ashamed of her. Out of love for him, she was willing to give up that right.
He reached for her hands again, but she pulled them into her lap. “Don’t change the subject. Tell me why I would go live inside the big house when I’d rather stay in my own home.”
With his fingernail, he picked at a crack in the tabletop. “Suppose I told you the big house is your home?”
Her eyes opened wider than he’d ever seen them. “I would say you have some explaining to do.”
Laughing, he told her about Mr. Rawson’s generous gift, about Mrs. Rawson’s decision to leave, and about Cuddy’s travel plans. When he finished, she sat back in her chair looking shocked.
Disappointed, he watched her closely. “I thought you’d be happy.”
She smiled. “I think I need time to accept something so wonderful.” “There’s more.”
“More than what you’ve already told me?” She covered her heart. “I’m not sure I can handle more.”
“I’ve asked Emmy to be my wife.”
This time she reached for his hands. “Oh, Diego! I’m so pleased. Emmy will make you so happy.”
He stood, pulling her up with him. “If you want to make me happy, call me Isi.”
She blinked up at him. “But I thought—”
He pulled her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “This is no time for you to abandon our heritage. I’ll need you to teach the Choctaw way to your grandchildren.”
Choking on a sob, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I love you, Isi.”
He kissed her again. “I love you, too, Mother.”
***
They buried Mr. Rawson the next day in Cuddy’s favorite place, beneath a live oak near the bank of the Nueces River. It was a solemn ceremony yet filled with the promise of hope for a believer’s heart.
Emmy watched Cuddy’s face as the preacher assured those present they would see their loved one again, as long as they put their trust in God’s provision for making heaven.
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