She frowned at the thought. There was something about him that both annoyed and excited her. She sipped her coffee and waited for the two men to go out.
“Are the children all right?” she asked.
Maria nodded, a big smile on her face. “They hope you brought them something, senorita.”
Turquoise grinned. “I did. Candy and some books. Oh, and I brought a beautiful shawl for you.”
“For me? Oh, you shouldn’t have, senorita.”
“But of course I did. You have been like a mother to me since my own was killed.” That sobered Turquoise and she tried to remember her mother, Rosa. All she remembered was that she had been beautiful and stormy, but had died a heroine saving Trace and his woman, Cimarron. Her father had loved her the most, she knew, but there’d always been a rumor that he was not really her father, that the old donor one of his white friends had fathered her and pressured old Sanchez into marrying the fiery servant girl to cover up the scandal.
She did not want to think about that now. She ate with gusto the scrambled eggs with hot chili peppers, cured ham, and some warm tortillas, covered with honey and butter. Then she shared some of the ham with the tiny brown chihuahua, Tequila, that had hopped up on the nearest chair, begging and whining.
Maria clucked with disapproval. “You shouldn’t spoil the dog so.”
“Oh, everyone does,” Turquoise answered. “Has there always been a chihuahua here at the Triple D?”
“Always.” Maria smiled. “And most of them named Tequila. Remember the one that is buried at the old don’s feet?”
Turquoise nodded. And right next to the old don in the family graveyard was his faithful foreman, Sanchez, the only father she’d ever known.
After she ate and drank more coffee, she brought out the silk shawl she had brought the cook, who oohed and aahed over it and kissed and hugged her.
“Now I think I’ll go out and find the children,” she said as she started for the front door. “They’ll be expecting to see me.”
Tequila, the little chihuahua, trotted along behind her.
Turquoise gathered up her gifts and went out to find the ranch children. They were all waiting in front of the little schoolhouse near the blacksmith shop. “
Buenos dias.
Did you miss me?”
“
Si,
senorita!” All the children gathered around her, some shy, some more bold. She looked down into all the little brown faces and dark eyes, loving them all. “I brought candy and books and toys for all of you.” She sat down on the schoolhouse step and began to pass them out.
Seventeen-year-old Juanita joined them. “Ah, senorita, we are all so glad to have you back.”
Turquoise paused in handing out the gifts. “And I brought you some pretty earrings.”
The girl smiled with pleasure. “All I want is to be able to teach school like you.”
She accepted the earrings and Turquoise finished handing out the gifts. After visiting with the children awhile, Turquoise walked away, near the horseshoeing shed.
Rio leaned against the door smoking a cigarillo. He wore no shirt and his muscular brown body gleamed with sweat. The sunlight reflected on the small cross hanging against his broad chest. “
Buenos dias,
senorita.”
She gave him a curt nod and started to walk past.
“You are a nicer person than I had thought,” he said, “bringing gifts to all the children.”
She was drawn to him, even though he was not the man she had planned for. “If that’s supposed to be a compliment—”
“I did not mean it as an insult.” His voice was cold.
“I hope you will be leaving soon,” she snapped and strode past him.
“I’ll be here at least until after Cinco de Mayo,” he called after her. “I wouldn’t want to miss the celebration.”
So that meant he would be here at least another week. She could hardly wait to have him gone. He annoyed her in a way she couldn’t understand. She shook her head, trying to shake the image of the big, virile male from her mind.
“Are the children all right?” she asked.
Maria nodded, a big smile on her face. “They hope you brought them something, senorita.”
Turquoise grinned. “I did. Candy and some books. Oh, and I brought a beautiful shawl for you.”
“For me? Oh, you shouldn’t have, senorita.”
“But of course I did. You have been like a mother to me since my own was killed.” That sobered Turquoise and she tried to remember her mother, Rosa. All she remembered was that she had been beautiful and stormy, but had died a heroine saving Trace and his woman, Cimarron. Her father had loved her the most, she knew, but there’d always been a rumor that he was not really her father, that the old donor one of his white friends had fathered her and pressured old Sanchez into marrying the fiery servant girl to cover up the scandal.
She did not want to think about that now. She ate with gusto the scrambled eggs with hot chili peppers, cured ham, and some warm tortillas, covered with honey and butter. Then she shared some of the ham with the tiny brown chihuahua, Tequila, that had hopped up on the nearest chair, begging and whining.
Maria clucked with disapproval. “You shouldn’t spoil the dog so.”
“Oh, everyone does,” Turquoise answered. “Has there always been a chihuahua here at the Triple D?”
“Always.” Maria smiled. “And most of them named Tequila. Remember the one that is buried at the old don’s feet?”
Turquoise nodded. And right next to the old don in the family graveyard was his faithful foreman, Sanchez, the only father she’d ever known.
After she ate and drank more coffee, she brought out the silk shawl she had brought the cook, who oohed and aahed over it and kissed and hugged her.
“Now I think I’ll go out and find the children,” she said as she started for the front door. “They’ll be expecting to see me.”
Tequila, the little chihuahua, trotted along behind her.
Turquoise gathered up her gifts and went out to find the ranch children. They were all waiting in front of the little schoolhouse near the blacksmith shop. “
Buenos dias.
Did you miss me?”
“
Si,
senorita!” All the children gathered around her, some shy, some more bold. She looked down into all the little brown faces and dark eyes, loving them all. “I brought candy and books and toys for all of you.” She sat down on the schoolhouse step and began to pass them out.
Seventeen-year-old Juanita joined them. “Ah, senorita, we are all so glad to have you back.”
Turquoise paused in handing out the gifts. “And I brought you some pretty earrings.”
The girl smiled with pleasure. “All I want is to be able to teach school like you.”
She accepted the earrings and Turquoise finished handing out the gifts. After visiting with the children awhile, Turquoise walked away, near the horseshoeing shed.
Rio leaned against the door smoking a cigarillo. He wore no shirt and his muscular brown body gleamed with sweat. The sunlight reflected on the small cross hanging against his broad chest. “
Buenos dias,
senorita.”
She gave him a curt nod and started to walk past.
“You are a nicer person than I had thought,” he said, “bringing gifts to all the children.”
She was drawn to him, even though he was not the man she had planned for. “If that’s supposed to be a compliment—”
“I did not mean it as an insult.” His voice was cold.
“I hope you will be leaving soon,” she snapped and strode past him.
“I’ll be here at least until after Cinco de Mayo,” he called after her. “I wouldn’t want to miss the celebration.”
So that meant he would be here at least another week. She could hardly wait to have him gone. He annoyed her in a way she couldn’t understand. She shook her head, trying to shake the image of the big, virile male from her mind.
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