AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What about you, Fox?”
“I’ll go, sure.” He slid into the Porsche and hurriedly fastened his seatbelt as though he feared he might be left behind.
Maggie and Rafael watched them drive away. She’d driven across Arizona several times, and the scenery between Tucson and Phoenix was equally barren and wild, but she’d always been on her way somewhere, not stuck in the middle of it. “It’s lonely out here. Is it your dream to own a ranch?”
“No, but I only plan a week ahead.”
That was all she needed, another reminder he might not be with them after Sunday. “We’re definitely going to have to stick to dancing, because I absolutely refuse to fall for a reckless fool.”
Rafael leaned down to kiss her. “Too late.”
Chapter Eleven
Leaving the den to Santos, Maggie and Rafael sat outside on the front porch. He wore a thoughtful expression as he re
ad one of Augustín’s journals, but she found the family album more troubling than helpful. Some of the photos had come loose from their pages, but there was no legible information on the back. She wondered if there was any glue in the desk but lacked the energy to go look. She closed the album and sat back. The wicker chair was thickly padded, and she was content to sit for the moment.
“Find anything?” Rafael asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know what I was looking for, maybe just a familiar face so I’d feel as though I fit among them. You’re so sure of who you are, but I’ve never felt as though I belonged anywhere.”
“You fake it very well, then.”
“I’m not a fake.” She clutched the album tightly to her chest.
He eased out of his chair to face her. “Perhaps I used the wrong word, but you’re such a confident woman, not shy or lost.”
“Self-confidence is another thing entirely.”
“Is it?”
She stood and remained close to him. “Yes, and please let’s not argue.”
He ran his fingertips down her cheek in a gentle caress. “Some things are worth arguing over.”
“True, but this isn’t one of them. Have you found anything useful?”
He regarded her with a sad smile, as though she were missing his whole point. “Yes, I thought I was observant, but Augustín could read the ring without missing a single detail while still keeping his focus on the bull. Death should take the bull by surprise. Augustín knew how to keep the bull from surprising him. Thank you for finding these. There’s much more advice in them than what Miguel taught me.”
She wondered if Santos would find the journals equally helpful or if he already knew everything their grandfather had to teach. “I want to look at another album. Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m fine, and I’m staying out here to keep your brother safe.”
He might be doing as she’d asked, but a steely defiance ran through him head to toe, and she’d been the fool to think she could rein it in. She found Santos seated at the desk with his boot heels resting on the corner.
He grinned at her. “Did you notice I didn’t ask Rafael if he could read?”
“Am I supposed to be grateful? You’re too handsome a man to lose your front teeth.”
“I’m not worried, but I didn’t want to make you angry. You’re awfully cute when you are, but I’m restraining myself.”
“Thank you, whatever the reason.”
She replaced the album and took out the next one. It was heavier than the first, and she hoped it held more clues to the family. “Tell me something, Santos, did you erase the video because Rafael looked too good?”
He pulled his feet off the desk, and his boots hit the floor with a loud thump. “Don’t kid yourself, he’s not that good. He’s got balls, I’ll give him that, but his technique is rough, not as polished as it should be. He can pass for a matador as he struts into an arena wearing a suit of lights, but he can’t prove it once he’s there. If they loved him in Mexico, it’s because the people there couldn’t see the difference.”
“And you’re a man with brilliant technique?”
