AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Part of me wasn’t surprised to hear she’d suffered a loss similar to the one I had. There were many instances when I sensed she understood far more about me than was said and vice versa. I’d attributed it to how easily we connected—forcing myself to stop short of going as far as to hint our souls recognized one another from past lives.
I’d heed Merrigan’s warning, though. Neither of us had the capacity for great heartache. We’d already experienced too much of it in our lives.
While I didn’t know how long Jaicon and her husband were together before his accident, time did not dictate the depth of emotion between two people. I’d spent a lifetime of love with my Rosa even though we were only given eighteen years together. I never dreamed that would be all we’d get. I expected to grow old together right here, on this ranch.
I couldn’t imagine something similar with Jaicon, and if I were to pursue a romantic relationship with someone, I couldn’t settle for anything less.
“What’re you thinking about, Tryst?”
I raised my head and looked into my oldest nephew’s eyes. “Hello, Brix. I didn’t hear you approach.”
“I noticed. That isn’t like you. Is everything okay?”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Contemplating the great mysteries of life. Or perhaps the injustices.”
He studied me. “Why do I sense you aren’t talking about the human trafficking victims who have been brought to the ranch?”
“My soul is heavy with sorrow over their plight, but you’re right. There is more on my mind.”
“Does it have anything to do with the pretty blonde woman who hasn’t taken her eyes off you since I arrived?”
I followed his gaze to Jaicon, who turned away in the split second our eyes met.
“Who is she, Tryst? Or better put, who is she to you?”
I couldn’t be untruthful nor could I be flippant. Which meant I had to think hard about my answer. Who was she to me? Someone who made me feel things I didn’t think I’d ever feel again. Someone who, no matter the depth of our attraction, wasn’t meant for me. More, I wasn’t meant for her.
“She works for K19 Security Solutions and is here to aid with the victim reunification as well as to learn more about their abductors.”
Brix raised a brow.
“She’s a friend, nephew. No different than anyone else who visits the ranch.”
He shook his head. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me, which means you’re lying to yourself.”
In the weeks that followed,the majority of those rescued in Felixstowe returned to the lives they’d led before they were captured. Those remaining were refugees without homes or families to reunite with. They were given the option of returning to the country they’d left to journey into Mexico or to find gainful employment in Alamos. There was always work to be done on a ranch, and mine wasn’t the only one in the area. The options for jobs were vast.
Between Jaicon, the rest of the team K19 had arranged to stay here, and myself, we were able to secure positions for all who wanted them.
A few took up their previous quest to seek asylum in the United States. We helped those individuals as much as we could, doing our best to counsel them not to put themselves at risk a second time. They thanked us but chose to try to get over the border anyway.
“You’ve done all you can, Tryst,” Brix said the day I lamented the fate I feared awaited them. “You can’t be responsible for everyone.”
“I am aware.”
He put his hand on my shoulder as I so often did to him. “I don’t believe you are, and if you were honest with yourself, you’d admit it.”
“Yes, nephew.”
Brix laughed. “You sounded just like I did when I was a kid and my dad lectured me about something.”
Alfonso Avila was my older brother by thirteen years. He passed away at the age of fifty-two from a massive heart attack. He was working alone in the vineyard at the time. We’d never know if he would’ve survived had he not been alone.
When it happened, I was here at the ranch. Rosa was two years into her cancer diagnosis and undergoing a combination of traditional and experimental treatment.
Alfonso’s death hit me hard, but I hid my pain, not wanting it to affect my wife. I’d worried about Brix, his brothers, and his sister, knowing they would struggle to bring the harvest in that year without their father, but I couldn’t leave Mexico, not with how precarious Rosa’s health was then.
I didn’t share my turmoil with Brix, then or now. However, between his father’s death and my beloved’s illness, I’d learned, in a very traumatic way, that I could not be responsible for everyone.
