by Wind, Ruth
Tonight, you’re going to go to the baby-sitter because I’m afraid of what’s going to happen here. I can’t stand to let you be so afraid again, like you were last time—screaming and screaming in your room. No. No, that’s not going to happen anymore. And maybe I won’t be there to give you hugs and kisses in person, so I’m giving them to you now. And wherever I am, I’ll always be your mother. I’ll always love you. More than I can ever, ever say. Be safe. Be good.
Love, Mom
Ramón was alone in his office. Outside, light snow fell, the first of the season, and it was beautiful. It made him so achingly lonely for Tanya he wanted to die. He simply sat in the chair and stared out the window and wondered how to make things right.
“Dad?” Tonio said from the doorway. In his hands were the letters from Tanya.
Ramón swiveled, surprised. “Come on in, Tonio.” Tonio had been weeping. There was dampness still in the extraordinarily long eyelashes. He came in and sat on the long couch against the wall. “You should read these.”
“No. They’re private, between your mom and you.”
“My mom.” He moved his hand on the letters. He took one of them out. “At least this one. It’s the oldest, the one she wrote to me the night she…that my father came after her.” His voice sounded strangled. “At least read it.”
Ramón took it. In a childish handwriting, still filled with loops and softly formed consonants, was Antonio Quezada, and the date, almost eleven years before. He steeled himself, and opened it, unfolding a single sheet of notebook paper, covered in the same unformed handwriting on both sides.
Dear Antonio, he read, It’s my birthday.
When he finished, there was an ache in his chest and he had to bend his head and pinch the bridge of his nose for a long moment before he trusted himself to speak. “You’ve had this one a long time. I’ve read it before,” he said at last. Having read it before didn’t make it any less searing.
“I’ve read it, too,” Tonio said. “But I didn’t understand it until now.” He paused. “Until Edwin and Teresa.”
Ramón swallowed. “Yes.”
Tonio’s tears spilled over on his cheeks. “All this time, I’ve been so angry with her, and she did it all to keep me safe.” He closed his eyes. “It’s not fair what happened to her.”
“No, it isn’t.” Ramón crossed the room and sat down next to him, and put an arm around him. “But it isn’t your fault.”
“You love her, don’t you?”
Ramón paused. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you do something to help her? Why didn’t you save her?”
“I didn’t know it was so bad. I didn’t even know she’d divorced Victor until after all of it happened.”
Tonio touched his chest. “I hate that I have his blood in me. That I’m from him.”
“No.” He tapped the letter they’d both read. “Do you think she would trade one minute of her life, one minute of anything that’s happened, for you?”
Tonio’s lip trembled, and another spill of silver tears fell on his face. Mutely, he shook his head.
“You’re loved, son. So much.”
“I know.”
Tonio put his head against his dad’s neck and wept. And Ramón just let him cry. There would be new grief, and new wonder, and even new anger before they were through, but the process, so long denied, had begun.
When the boy had calmed, Ramón said, “I want her back here. I want to marry her, but won’t even ask it if you aren’t ready.” He sighed. “I don’t want long, but I’ll wait awhile if you want a little time to get used to the whole idea.”
Tonio stared at him for a long time, and it was impossible for Ramón to read the expression in his eyes. “You mean we’ll be a family? Mom and dad and kid?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s exactly it. Maybe even some more kids, brothers and sisters, eh?” Ramón gave him a half smile.
“I don’t know about all that,” he said with a frown. “But the rest is okay.” He took a breath, blew it out hard. “Can I see her alone first, before you start all that?”
“Of course.”
“Can we go now? I want to stop by the drugstore.”
“Now is great.”
They stood up. Tonio leaned forward, almost as tall as Ramón, and hugged him awkwardly. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Tonio shook his head. “For everything, I guess. For being my dad, for taking care of me when there was no one else. For stepping in.”
“Hey, how could I resist?” He smiled. “You were the cutest little boy—not like now, when you’re all surly teenagerness.”
Tonio grinned, and the expression showed a lot of his mother. “Gee, thanks.”
Ramón winked. “No problem.”
* * *
From her room on the second floor of the hotel, Tanya had a view of the Sangre de Cristos, jagged against the horizon, very blue in contrast to the snow beginning to fall in thick flakes. It was chilly. She huddled closer in her sweater and got up to find another pair of socks.
She had spoken to the owner of both cafés to see if either of them needed a cook. The owners of the Blue Swan, the Mexican food place where she and Ramón had eaten the first day she came to town, were clearly suspicious that an Anglo would presume to cook Mexican, but she managed to convince them she wasn’t telling lies, and they agreed to try her on weekends for a while. In the meantime, they needed a waitress for the lunch shift, starting the end of the week, and Tanya agreed to take the job.
On the way back to the hotel, she’d stopped at the bookstore and stocked up on paperback novels. It was depressing to find herself at such loose ends after all the motion of the ranch. Too much like prison.
But she refused to dwell on it. Munching M&M’s from a big bag, drinking hot tea from a thermos, she tried to read an Agatha Christie mystery.
When the knock sounded, it took Tanya a moment to realize it was at her door. The visitor knocked a second time before she jumped to her feet and ran across the room, hoping against hope that Ramón had come to visit.
It was Tonio.
Stunned, Tanya simply stared at him.
“Hi,” he said quietly. “Can I come in?”
“Sure. Yes.” Tanya backed up, swinging the door wide to give him entrance. “Of course.”
He came in and stood in the middle of the room, looking around. Awkwardly, Tanya closed the door and folded her arms over her chest. “You can sit down if you want to.” She lifted her chin toward the table by the window. “Have some M&M’s.”
“Umm, thanks, but I really came to talk to you.” He thrust an envelope into her hands. “To give this to you.”
Tanya stared at him. Bright patches of color burned in his cheeks. He touched his nose, bowed his head. ‘‘Open it.”
She looked down at the envelope, then turned it over and lifted the flap. Inside was a card. She took it out.
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. It was a big card, fancy, with a rose frosted with white glitter that came off on her hands. In scrolly script, it read, Happy Mother’s Day.
Trembling, Tanya opened it and had to blink several times to clear her vision before she could read the poem printed inside. “Roses are Red, Violets are blue, When I think of all you’ve done, Mother, I love you.” Below that, Tonio had written, “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I hope we can start over fresh. Love, Antonio.
“P.S. I’m proud to be your son.”
“I had to ask the guy at the drugstore to see if he had a Mother’s Day card in the back,” Tonio said.
Tanya pressed her lips together, and blinked hard. She put the card down on the table blindly and put her fingers on her mouth, but the tears had been too long repressed. She looked at her son—her son—and tears ran unchecked down her face. “I didn’t expect this,” she whispered, fighting desperately for control.
“I read your letters,” he said. “They made me cry.”
Tanya shook her head. “You ca
n’t imagine… how much I missed you,” she whispered. “So much. Every day. I’ve waited foryou for so long.” Her breath caught and she covered her mouth and turned away.
A little awkwardly, Tonio moved and hugged her. “I already did all my crying. Don’t be embarrassed.”
Silently she hugged him, letting the tears flow down her face, hot and free and fulsome. After a moment, the huge wave subsided enough that she could step back. She touched his face. “You’re still you, you know. That first day, I knew you right away in all those kids.”
He gave her his cockeyed grin. “That’s what my dad says, too.” Stepping toward the door, he said, “And speaking of him, he’s here, too.”
Tanya wiped her cheeks and turned around. As if that were his cue, Ramón came into the room. “My turn,” he said.
Tonio smiled and gave them a salute. “I’ll be downstairs.”
Tanya felt dizzy as Ramón moved toward her. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered. “It’s just…I can’t believe…”
He stopped in front of her and took her hands. “May as well have lots of things not to believe in then.”
“What?”
He looked at her hands in his, then lifted his gaze to her face. “I wanted to let you find your own life,” he said. “I had all these noble ideas about leaving you alone to be an adult without the state or some man telling you what do.” He shook his head. “But there’s been enough time wasted. I fell in love with you at first sight, Tanya.”
“I don’t want to be alone—”
“Shh, let me finish, because I might get tongue-tied if you stop me.”
Tanya made a noise of disbelief. “Tongue-tied? You?”
“It could happen.”
“Maybe.” She chuckled. “If you were dead.”
He tsked, but she saw the twinkle light his eyes. “You’ll spoil this if you don’t hush.”
“Sorry.” She bit her lip and shifted on her feet to assume a position of intent listening. A bubble of bright, pure happiness began to grow inside her.
“Where was I? Ah.” His eyes sobered. “I want to marry you, Tanya. I want you to come live at the ranch with me and Tonio and all the children. I want to grow old holding you at night.”
The bubble, iridescent with the promise of all the things she’d missed and wanted so much, expanded to fill her entire being. “I am so in love with you,” she said softly, “that it almost seems like a dream.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I want babies, Ramón. Do you want more children?”
He laughed, triumphantly and grabbed her, kissing her face. “Yes, yes, yes. A dozen, if you want. Babies everywhere.” He kissed her again. “Oh, yes.”
“Well, okay, then.” She shrugged. “I guess I’ll marry you, then.” She flashed an evil grin.
He laughed and hugged her. Tanya, swept into the power of his embrace, overcome with joy, leapt on him and let him swing her around. “I can’t believe I found you,” she whispered into his neck. “I love you.”
Ramón put her down and took her face in his hands in that gentle, cherishing gesture she so loved. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Ramón.”
He closed his eyes and opened them again. “And I,” he said, bending to touch his lips to hers, “love you, Tanya.”
Epilogue
They were married in the church at Manzanares, an old Spanish adobe that had stood there for more than two hundred years. Tonio was best man, Desmary matron of honor. Zach, dressed in a new suit, was ring bearer.
Tanya wore a simple lace dress, long and white. She’d protested for weeks that she could not wear white, that it was only for first-time brides and virgins, but Ramón had unrelentingly asked her every day to change her mind. Exasperated, she asked him why white was so important to him. “A fresh beginning,” he said.
She capitulated, and standing in the warm room, her hand on his arm, she was glad. Ramón had broken with his usual black to don a white tuxedo that made him look almost too handsome to be real.
The old bell rang out in celebration as they emerged from the church, and as if nature, too, wanted a fresh start, thick snow had begun to fall. “Beautiful,” Tanya breathed.
“Yes, you are,” Ramón said. He kissed her.
The reception was held in the boys’ dining room, and it was as traditional as receptions came. A Spanish band played, and all the old ladies gossiped while children ran in circles in their patent leather shoes and toasts were lifted. The only nontraditional thing was the lack of alcohol served.
Teresa came in from town with her mother, a slim woman far younger than Tanya had expected, and Tonio danced with her all afternoon. “It’s love,” Ramón commented. “They seem so young.”
“They are,” Tanya said, and raised her eyes to her husband.
“Would you like to dance?” he said.
Gathering her veil and skirt, Tanya stood up. “Yes, I would. Very much.”
He waited for her, and took her lightly into his embrace, and Tanya, hearing the reception laughter and music swirl all around her, was suddenly transported to another wedding a long, long time ago. Remembering the youth who had kept her company, she said quietly, “We’ve come many miles to this day, haven’t we?”
Soberly, he nodded. “Yes.”
“Thank God you were there that day, Ramón. Think how our lives would be different if you weren’t.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t want to think of life without you, Tanyacita, never again.”
“Thank you, Ramón. You’re my knight in shining armor, you know.”
“And you’re my princess.” With a grin, he bent and kissed her in full view of everyone. “And I’m so glad I don’t have to pretend I’m not madly lusting for you every minute.”
A trio of boys sent up some catcalls. “Eeeh, Mr. Quezada!”
He grinned at them. “See what you get if you behave and mind your manners? An intelligent and beautiful wife!”
Tanya laughed and bowed, and they clapped. And then Ramón was swirling her away again and whispering what he would do with her when they were at last alone. And Tanya snuggled close, thinking of the days ahead with Tonio and Ramón, and babies and long winter nights. She sighed against him. “I’m home, at last.”
“Yes,” he replied against her temple. “Home at last.”
~~###~~
This is for the friend of my heart,
Sharon Lynn High Williams,
a tireless warrior for the lost children;
a lamp in the darkness, burning bright.
With love and admiration.
BARBARA SAMUEL O'NEAL
Barbara Samuel (also known as Barbara O’Neal) is the bestselling author of more than 40 books, and has won Romance Writers of America’s RITA award an astounding six times, and she has been a finalist 13 times. Her books have been published around the world, including France, Germany, Italy, and Australia/New Zealand, among others. One of her recent women’s fiction titles, The Lost Recipe for Happiness (written as Barbara O’Neal) went back to print eight times, and her book How to Bake a Perfect Life was a Target Club pick in 2011.
Whether set in the turbulent past or the even more challenging present, Barbara’s books feature strong women, families, dogs, food, and adventure—whether on the road or toward the heart.
Now living in her hometown of Colorado Springs, Barbara lives with her partner, Christopher Robin, an endurance athlete, along with her dog and cats. She is an avid gardner, hiker, photographer and traveler who loves to take off at dawn to hike a 14er or head to a faraway land. She loves to connect with readers and is very involved with them on the Internet.
You may read more about Barbara’s books at her main website, find her at her A Writer Afoot blog and on Facebook.
Visit Barbara on the Web!
www.BarbaraSamuel.com
www.AWriterAfoot.com
www.BarbaraONeal.com
~~~
BONUS MATERIAL
&nbs
p; Please enjoy excerpts of some of Barbara's other Books:
Excerpt: Light of Day
Excerpt: Summer's Freedom
Excerpt: Jezebel's Blues
Excerpt: In The Midnight Rain
Excerpt: Breaking the Rules
Excerpt: Walk in Beauty
Excerpt: Rainsinger
Excerpt: A Minute to Smile
Additional titles, including those from other genre, are listed at the end of the excerpts or click HERE to jump there.
Barbara is very active writing new books and converting her backlist into eBooks. To find the most up to date information, please visit her website.
LIGHT
OF
DAY
(Excerpt)
by
Barbara Samuel
One
The car rumbled up next to Lila, a beautiful old Mercedes, black, with modest fins at its tail and a smoothly purring engine. It gleamed like polished glass in the silvery light of the overcast day. She’d loved the model since childhood, when the wife of a rich neighbor had driven one home from Dallas.
Only after she’d admired the car in all its detail did she notice the man behind the wheel—and he startled her. The lines of his face were as spare as those of his automobile. Harsh, slanting cheekbones cast shadows over the lean flesh of his cheeks. A broad, high forehead met straight slashes of brows even darker than the heavy black of his hair. His nose would have overpowered another face, but on this man, it was the only possible nose to balance the square, hard chin.
Lila grinned. If she’d been one to admire severe and arrogant men, he’d have been a prize. Instead, she thought he looked in need of a little whimsy to chase the scowl from that intelligent brow.
