Someone Like You (Night Riders)

by Leigh Greenwood

  “It hasn’t been easy for Dolores. She’s too young and too pretty to settle willingly into widowhood, and her allowance is too small to allow her the freedom she wants.”

  “Don’t waste your time asking me to increase her allowance. If it were in my power, I’d eliminate it altogether.”

  “She was your father’s wife, the mother of your…brother.” She still stumbled when she said that.

  “That woman destroyed my life and ruined my father’s. She’s cold, conniving, calculating, and utterly without conscience. I’m glad you were here to take care of Luis. There might be a chance for him despite the blood in his veins.”

  “The same blood runs in my veins.”

  “I haven’t forgotten that.” His tone was cold, unyielding.

  “If you wish any changes in the house hold arrangements, just let me know. If you would prefer that I hand them over to Rosana, I’ll do so.”

  “I don’t want that.”

  She hoped her relief didn’t show. She stood. “Is there anything more you wish to say?”

  “We have to talk about Luis.”

  “It would be better if you spent some time getting to know him first.”

  Rafe had been leaning against one of the supports of the gazebo. Without warning, it cracked, splintered, and collapsed. Maria hardly knew how it occurred—it was such a surprise and happened so quickly—but she found herself in Rafe’s arms, safely outside the gazebo as the structure collapsed on itself. It would have been hard to say which caused the greater shock. “You can put me down now.” She didn’t know how she managed to sound so normal. She felt anything but.

  “Are you sure you can stand?”

  “Thanks to you, I wasn’t hurt.”

  “It must be a shock.”

  “I’ve had worse.” But nothing more startling than finding herself in the arms of a man like Rafe. When he set her on her feet, her legs were wobbly.

  Rafe knelt down to inspect the fallen timbers. Maria didn’t know what he could see in the dark, but Rafe’s inspection was thorough.

  Rafe turned to look at her. “Have you seen anyone hanging around the gazebo?”

  “No, but I can’t see it from the house. Why?”

  “Someone has worn down the wood in an unobtrusive way. Someone wanted the gazebo to collapse.”

  “Why? Nobody uses it but me.”

  Rafe’s gaze narrowed. “Who could want you killed or badly injured?”

  The thought that anyone could want to harm her was too absurd to entertain. “No one. No one would have anything to gain by my death.”

  Rafe regarded the jumble of wood. “Someone must think he does.

  “I’ll look again tomorrow,” he continued. “In the meantime, try to think of why someone would want you dead.”

  “Surely I wouldn’t have been killed if it had fallen on me.”

  “The beams across the top are four inches thick, twelve inches wide, and about twenty feet long. Any one of them would have crushed your skull.”

  Maria couldn’t make herself believe anyone would want her dead, but she didn’t want to think about it anymore. “It would be nice if you would spend some time tomorrow with Luis. He needs to get to know you.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re the heir, the executor, his guardian. You’ll be living here.”

  “I don’t want to inherit this ranch or have anything to do with it. I’m heading back to Texas as soon as I can.”

  Maria closed the door to her room and breathed a relieved sigh. Over the years she had come to feel that her room was a sanctuary, a place of quiet in the midst of constant drama. She was still reeling from Rafe’s disclosure that he would be returning to Texas as soon as possible. It didn’t make sense. Why should a man walk away from such an inheritance? In Texas he was an ordinary cowhand. Here he would own half of a ranch that would make him one of the richest men in California. No man in his right mind walked away from something like that!

  How would his leaving affect her? Since she was joint guardian of Luis, she doubted she would be turned out. She’d hoped to see Luis grow up and assume his rightful position in society. She would be devastated if she had to leave. Luis had become an integral part of her life, the child she didn’t have, the child she might never have. But running such a huge ranch on her own would be impossible.

  Who would help her? Miguel was planning to leave at the end of the harvest to go live with his cousin near San Diego. There was no one to take his place, to teach Luis how to manage his inheritance, to keep the ranch prosperous until he was old enough to take over its management. Hundreds of people depended on Rancho los Alamitos for their livelihood. The town of Cíbola might wither and disappear if the ranch failed.

  But the thing that worried her most was her opinion of Rafe.

  Nine years ago he’d been the handsome, spoiled only son of an indulgent father, unable to accept that the woman he loved wanted to marry his father. Being driven out of his mind by grief, anger, and jealousy, he probably was trying to convince Dolores to choose him, got carried away by the passion of the moment, and ended up forcing himself on her. Unable to face his own guilt, he’d accused his father of having seduced her, had a terrible fight, then ran away. A classic case of a young man losing control while under the sway of volatile emotions.

  The Rafe Jerry who’d appeared at the ranch earlier today didn’t fit that image. He was handsome, but there was nothing spoiled, overindulged, or self pitying about him. He was still angry at Dolores, didn’t trust Maria, and admitted he knew nothing about boys, but she had never seen anyone less likely to lose control, to rape a woman. He might have been a volatile youth—though Rosana said he never was until Dolores came into the house—but he wasn’t any longer. And that impressed her.

  What scared her was knowing that being impressed with him was even more dangerous than being attracted to him. Any woman breathing would be attracted to a man like Rafe. His black hair, black eyes, and slightly olive complexion were gifts of his Spanish heritage, yet he had the height and broad-shouldered strength of his father’s Scottish ancestors. He moved with the grace of a man who kept himself in good physical shape and wore his clothes like a second skin. He had the presence of a man who was supremely confident in himself, one who had no doubt he could handle any situation that might arise.

  What woman wouldn’t be impressed by a man like that? She supposed she’d always had reservations about Dolores’s version of what Rafe was like. Everyone knew Rafe and his father had quarreled over Dolores. Terrible things had been said by both men, but the sympathy of the house hold was entirely with Rafe. What no one knew was that Luis was Rafe’s son. Dolores said Warren had married her so the child would have a father he could be proud of. She said Warren was adamant that no one was ever to know. That made it difficult for Maria to understand why Warren would give Rafe control of the ranch and everyone on it.

  “What did he say to you? You were gone a long time.” Dolores had entered without knocking, had eased the door shut behind her

  “Why are you sneaking into my room?”

  “I don’t want Rafe to know I’m here.”

  “We’re sisters. What could be more natural than a chat before going to bed?”

  Dolores drew up a chair next to her sister. “Rafe is a very suspicious person. He’ll want to know what I’ve said to you.”

  Maria hadn’t noticed Rafe wanting to know anything about Dolores, but she said nothing.

  “He hates me,” Dolores went on. “He’ll do anything he can to get back at me for marrying his father.”

  Maria was sure he’d never forgive Dolores for what she had done, but Rafe didn’t appear to be a man who would waste energy on things that couldn’t be changed. “He didn’t talk about you except to say that he doesn’t trust you. I’m not sure he trusts me, either.”

  “Maybe so, but he’s attracted to you.”

  Maria laughed at the absurdity of that notion. “He’s not sure you and I are ali
ke, but he doesn’t intend to take responsibility for the house hold from me just yet. Apparently I’m to have a trial period before he makes up his mind.”

  “He’d be a fool to ask you to leave. No one loves this place as much as you do.”

  “I doubt that will be an important consideration with him. I don’t know what he was like at nineteen, but the grown-up Rafe Jerry is a pragmatic man who won’t allow sentiment to color his judgment or affect his decisions.”

  “He’s a different person,” said Dolores.

  “We’re all different from what we were ten years ago.”

  “Did he say he would increase my allowance?”

  “He said he’d eliminate it if he could.”

  “He wouldn’t do that,” Dolores stated confidently. “He has too much pride to endure people criticizing him for being so brutal to his father’s widow.”

  Maria doubted Rafe cared what anybody thought. “We agreed to talk about Luis tomorrow. He doesn’t think I’ve done a good job raising him.”

  “Why should he care? He’s never seen the boy.”

  “Luis is his son”—Maria didn’t hesitate to speak the truth to Dolores—“joint heir to his father’s estate.”

  There it was again, Dolores avoiding her gaze. Why did she do that every time Maria reminded her that Rafe, not Warren, was Luis’s father? “Rafe won’t share control of the ranch with anyone,” Dolores asserted.

  “He’ll have to share it with someone. He said he’s going back to Texas as soon as he can.”

  “He’ll never leave. Inheriting the ranch will make him one of the richest men in California.”

  “I don’t think that matters to him.”

  Dolores looked at Maria as if she’d lost her mind. “Of course it matters. He only left because his father disinherited him. He’s back now because he got the ranch instead of me.”

  Maria wondered why, if Warren had disinherited Rafe, he’d changed his mind without seeing his son again. She hadn’t known Warren as well as she would have liked, but he’d always struck her as a man who wouldn’t change his mind without a good reason.

  “I can tell you only what Rafe said.”

  “He’s got some trick in mind. He was always crazy about this place. There were times when he would get so caught up in his work, he would forget he’d promised to meet me.”

  That didn’t sound like a young man who was crazy in love. Usually adult responsibilities were the first things to be forgotten. “I wouldn’t know anything about that. I can only take him at his word.”

  “Never do that!” Dolores sounded insistent. “Rafe won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

  If he’d wanted the ranch, why had he left? Why hadn’t he come back, tried to regain his father’s trust, tried to push Dolores out of favor? With her single-minded concentration on her own pleasures, he could have found a hundred of ways to put a wedge between husband and wife. “I’m too tired to discuss Rafe any more. If I don’t get some sleep, I won’t be fit to talk about Luis tomorrow.”

  “Don’t let him get Luis off by himself. You don’t know what might happen.”

  “Are you implying that he might harm his own son?”

  “Stop saying that!” She looked around nervously. “One of these days you’re going to slip and say it in front of Rosana or Juan.”

  Maria wished she hadn’t been told—it was hard to know the truth and have to face Rafe and act as if she didn’t—but she’d never do anything that would cause Luis to learn about his parentage.

  “I don’t know that Rafe would do anything to hurt Luis, but I don’t trust him.” Dolores fidgeted in her chair. “How many men in his position do you know who would be tempted to do something to get the whole fortune for themselves?”

  Maria could name a dozen, but rather than show a dislike for Luis, Rafe had seemed to want to draw the boy out, make him feel important. He was brusque and reluctant to trust people, but his swift action had saved her from injury when the gazebo collapsed. He’d said he was going back to Texas, but his interest in Luis’s studies, his having bought him a pony, his disapproval of the way she was bringing him up, might indicate he wanted to take the boy back to Texas with him.

  Still, Dolores was right. A fortune could cause a man to do any number of things he wouldn’t consider in ordinary circumstances.

  “How did it go with the fair Maria?” Rafe remained standing next to the fireplace, leaning against the mantel in the room that had once been his father’s, while Broc made himself comfortable. He had brought up a bottle of brandy for himself and a bottle of the ranch’s rich red wine for Rafe.

  “I don’t think she’s as bad as her sister.”

  Rafe hadn’t wanted to feel that way. He’d wanted to think the two women were alike so he could banish them both from the ranch, leaving the lawyer to look after Luis, but that plan had begun to fall apart the moment Maria opened the door to him. He’d known immediately Maria was nothing like her sister. The instant attraction had been a shock to him. He wasn’t immediately attracted to people, least of all women he had reason to distrust. He was tempted to compare the feeling to his attraction to Dolores, but he wasn’t nineteen, Maria wasn’t as beautiful as her sister, and he wasn’t tempted to fall to his knees and worship her. The thought made him smile.

  Broc regarded him over the rim of his brandy snifter. “What’s got you smiling?”

  “It was just a silly thought I had comparing Maria and Dolores.”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.” He waved the brandy bottle at Rafe. “I might take to drink in frustration.”

  “Nine years ago, I practically fell at Dolores’s feet and worshipped her. I found the idea of doing the same to Maria amusing.”

  “I don’t agree with you. I considered making a push to attract her attention, but I decided it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re interested in her.”

  Chapter Five

  You’d better lay off the brandy. It’s obvious you’ve had too much to drink.”

  Broc’s lazy laugh annoyed Rafe. “I didn’t say you were ready to offer marriage. I just said you were attracted to her.”

  “You said interested. That’s not the same as attracted. You are aware that you’re talking about the sister of the woman whose duplicity ruined my father’s life.”

  “Just because they share the same blood doesn’t mean they share the same morals,” Broc pointed out.

  “I’d be happy to learn Maria is as admirable as her sister is despicable, but I’m heading back to Texas as soon as I figure out how to shift responsibility for this inheritance to someone else’s shoulders.”

  Broc took a sip of brandy and leveled a hard look at Rafe. “If I were you, I’d think about that a bit more before I made up my mind.”

  “You aren’t me, but for the sake of argument, why would you want the responsibility of a place like this?”

  Broc looked at his brandy with affection. “For one thing, to be able to afford brandy like this. It’s a shame you don’t drink it. It’s remarkable.”

  In the first years after he left the ranch, Rafe had drunk to forget. When he couldn’t forget, he drank so he wouldn’t mind that he remembered. “Setting aside the money, which I don’t care about, why would I want to stay here?”

  “How can you say you don’t care about money when you’re rich enough to buy and sell Cade several times over?”

  “My father was rich, but it didn’t make him happy. My mother died after a long illness, his only son ran away, and he married a harpy.”

  “You wouldn’t make the same mistakes.”

  “I would if I was as interested in Maria as you think.”

  “Forget being attracted to Maria. Forget being married.”

  “I forgot that long ago.”

  Broc ignored Rafe. “You’ve inherited half of the ranch you used to love. You liked the work, and you liked the people. Your family is here. Your roots are here.”<
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  “My family is in Texas with Cade and Pilar and their kids, and my roots are wherever I decide to plant them.”

  Broc set aside his brandy. “Cade may be an old friend, but he’s not really family. Think of your responsibilities. You’ve got a ranch that needs your attention, and a half brother who needs a big brother.”

  “He has Maria, who’s horrified he even likes me.”

  “All the more reason to stay long enough to prove to him you’re his best friend, his strongest advocate.”

  “How can I be his best friend when he’s twenty-one years younger?”

  He knew he was being obnoxious, but he didn’t want to think about his attraction to Maria. It could have only one end. Nor did he want to think about his responsibility to Luis. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, but he thought of Dolores’s betrayal whenever he saw him. Most of all, he didn’t want to think of Dolores. He no longer wanted to be her husband, but he didn’t want to be her keeper, either. He knew she would involve him in debts, an array of undesirable acquaintances, and ill-considered escapades. It would be better to let the lawyer deal with her.

  Broc poured some of the rich red wine into a glass and handed it to Rafe. “Have some wine. It might mellow your mood.”

  Rafe didn’t take the glass. “I don’t want my mood mellowed.”

  “I do. You’re my host, so it’s your duty to see to my happiness.”

  Rafe had never been able to keep up a sour front when Broc exerted himself to be charming—or persuasive. “You should have gone into politics. You could persuade the devil to vote for you.”

  “Maybe the dev il, but I’d scare off the good, common folk. At least cows don’t care how I look.”

  Rafe accepted the glass. The wine had a rich, hearty flavor and just enough bite to keep it from being too fruity. He had been the one to encourage his father to plant these grapes, but the vines hadn’t yet reached maturity when he left. He was glad to know he’d made a good choice.

  He’d been too angry at Dolores and his father to miss the ranch immediately. For the three years he spent in Mexico, he was too drunk. Volunteering for the Confederate army had given him a reason to stay sober, as well as a group of friends who’d taken the place of the family he’d lost. Rebuilding Cade’s ranch had given focus to his three years in Texas. Whenever he felt the need for more, there was the search for Laveau, the man who’d betrayed their cavalry unit. Though Laveau was Cade’s brother-in-law, each of the Night Riders had sworn the traitor would not go unpunished.