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“Si.”
* * *
The rest of the day dragged on with Miguel distracting himself by working with Hector. It took a while to make the man relax and just treat him as one of the guys. After a while, they worked in harmony, talking only when necessary and sweating nonstop.
When the sun started to dip below the horizon, Miguel straightened, and stretched his arms over his head. His muscles had a satisfying ache, which was a good thing since he didn’t have a chance to go to the gym while he was there.
He parted ways with Hector to head toward the truck but found it gone from the spot where he left it. Wincing, he rubbed his neck. Jasmeka had probably taken exception to the fact that he had commandeered it as his own. He really would need to rent one, especially if this mess with the ranch took longer than he liked. His instincts had been head on when he put in for the leave of absence.
As he walked toward the house, the last of the light waned. A shadow moved ahead of him. He went on alert out of habit, but he wasn’t worried it was anything other than a family member or one of the workers. Nothing ever happened around here. Crime was almost non-existent, and even when mischief stirred up, everyone knew who’d done it. At least that’s how it was when he was home.
“Ugh, I’m starting to think like a Texan.” He’d almost heard that southern drawl he worked to drop the second he stepped foot in New York. All he needed was to speak it out loud, and he wouldn’t hear the end of it.
“We know what you’re up to.”
He stopped walking at the sound Antonio’s voice. Two shadows now, and he identified them as belonging to the twins. They blocked his path to the house. Not very dangerous but definite attitude. Miguel waited to see where this was going.
“Yeah, we’re not stupid.” Angel’s voice this time.
Was this about the ranch? Had they already heard? He steeled himself to deal with the outbursts, the protests that he had no right after all this time. Miguel could smell their dislike of him from a mile off. He didn’t hate them, but they were spoiled, and if they were in his care, he’d straighten them up quick. They were almost men after all. Time they learned the way of the world.
Miguel started to walk by them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, hermanos, but I’m tired. What say we have this discussion in the morning?”
One of them blocked his path again. “She’s pregnant!”
Miguel froze. His blood ran cold. “Qué?”
“Tony,” Angel whispered in a fierce tone and punched his twin’s arm.
Antonio straightened, ignoring Angel. “You heard me. She’s pregnant. I’m talking about Jas. She’s having our brother’s baby.”
Miguel felt sick. He ran a hand over his face and drew in a long, slow breath. For a moment, he forgot to let it out to harness his emotions. Antonio wanted to provoke him, and he couldn’t choose a better way. Yet, that didn’t mean he was lying. Miguel willed himself to calm down and to examine his younger brother’s tone so he could determine if he had a tell that said he was making up all he’d said. It would have helped if he could see Antonio better.
“I assume you’re talking about David.” Miguel was proud of himself that his voice sounded even. “Unless of course Thiago has more news for me.”
“Who else would it be?” Antonio took a step closer to him and stabbed a finger into Miguel’s chest. Miguel felt a vein twitch beside his right eye, but he recalled who was talking. His snot-nosed little brother didn’t know any better, but if he kept pushing, Miguel might teach him something before he left for good. For now, Antonio kept flapping his gums. “She was David’s, so you better back
off. You don’t look like the kind of man who would want another man’s leftovers.”
Miguel caught the stabbing finger, and Antonio let out a small yelp. “Who’d you hear that from?”
Antonio didn’t answer, but he could imagine the boy paled. Trying to be big and use insults he didn’t have the cojones to fling around was a mistake. “You’ve said your piece,” Miguel bit between his teeth. “Now get lost.”
Angel tugged at Antonio. “Come on, Tony. We don’t want to push him too far.”
Antonio made a noise of disgust. “I’m not scared of him.”
“Come on!”
They went, and Miguel remained where he was standing a little bit longer tamping down his anger. He kept telling himself it was too farfetched, too unlikely, but didn’t she say she’d been in love, and she wasn’t over the guy? Miguel had assumed her lover had broken things off, but he should have seen it. David died. Of course he wouldn’t give her up, not a woman that looked like Jasmeka, with her personality to boot.
The more he thought about how she defended his brother, the angrier he became. She let him come onto her, knowing she’d been with his brother, maybe just before he died. Swearing, Miguel paced. He pushed a hand through his hair, feeling it tangled wet from the day’s hard work. A shower was the farthest thing from his mind. He’d said he would meet her on the porch.
“No, don’t do it,” he argued with himself. “Just walk away.”
His feet directed him toward the house. He willed himself to stop. Maybe she wasn’t there yet. It wasn’t that late. She might be attending her duties in the house somewhere. He could go up to his room and—another curse dropped from his lips. He wasn’t the type of man to slink off in hiding.
His boot had hardly thunked against the bottom step when the screen door squeaked open. She stood there with a plate of food in her hand. Her usual bright grin broke out on her beautiful face. He saw her pretty well because she’d turned on the outside lights.
