Honeymoon With the Rancher

It had been. It had easily been the worst moment of his life, when the police had brought the news of Rosa’s death. Like a knife to the heart, only the pain never went away.

“Was she ill?”

He shook his head. “No. She was mugged in Buenos Aires. The autopsy said the cause of death was blunt force to the head.”

Sophia’s fingers went to her mouth; he saw them trembling there. Her normally rosy cheeks drained of color. Why were the details so easy to repeat now? It was as though he was talking about another person, another lifetime. “It was three years ago,” he finished.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, taking his hands in hers. “And here I was whining over my situation. Oh Tomas,” she whispered, her voice breaking, “How did you stand it?”

He spun away, away from the pity in her eyes and the sympathy in her voice. Turned away from the benevolent scene of ducks bobbing away on the water, evidence that the world kept on turning, blithely uninterested in whatever suffering he’d encountered. He had grieved so hard, so completely, that he would have done anything to take away the pain. “Now you know why I came to the bridge. There was a time that all I wanted to do was make the pain go away. To forget all the things that made me hurt.”

“And you regret that now?”

He turned back and looked at Sophia, so young and naive. She really had no idea. “I shouldn’t forget. I should be able to remember what she looked like, but sometimes I can’t. It’s like she’s there but blurred, you know? The sound of her voice when she laughed at a joke. The way she moved. Those things are slipping away from me.” He scowled. “Especially when I’m with you.”

“I make you forget?” Her voice was small.

“Yes, dammit, you do.”

Long seconds passed and Tomas realized he’d been breathing fast and hard. He slowed his breaths to normal. He had made it sound as though this was her fault when it wasn’t. “I’m sorry, Sophia. It is not your fault. It is mine.”

“You don’t need to grieve forever, Tomas. It is okay to move on. To have a life.” She tried to curve her trembling lips into a smile, but they faltered. “To be happy. It doesn’t mean you loved her less.”

“Perhaps,” he responded, knowing in his head she was right but feeling that heavy, sinking feeling in his heart just the same. “But it feels…”

“Disloyal to her memory?”

He nodded, not sure if he was relieved or not that she seemed to understand.

“Oh, Tomas. You are a good man beneath all your prickles and stings.” Sophia took his hand and led him back to the edge of the bridge. He let himself be guided because he didn’t know what else to do. “Is that why you hide away at the estancia?”

“At first it was to be close to her…”

Sophia’s head whipped around to stare at him. Surprise widened her eyes and he realized that, of course, she didn’t know the rest. “Rosa was Maria and Carlos’s daughter,” he clarified.

He saw the shock ripple across her face, and couldn’t blame her. What would she say if she knew opening the estancia as a guest ranch had been his idea? Or if she knew he had been the financial backer behind it? He had already seen her impression of him change before his eyes as he told her about Rosa.

“I didn’t see that coming,” she admitted, and his eyes focused on her throat as she swallowed thickly. “So, what, you moved to the estancia after her death? To be close to her family?”

“They are my family, Sophia. Carlos and Maria are like parents to me. There was nowhere else I wanted to be. But since the fire, with all the changes happening, it doesn’t feel the same. It is not the same place I came to when I was younger. I went home with Miguel and there she was. There they all were. I’ve been trying to hold on to that feeling, but it’s slipping away.”

“You’re not just grieving for Rosa, then,” Sophia replied softly. “You’re grieving for everything that was and isn’t anymore. You’re grieving for your grief. And you feel awful for wanting to move on with your life. But Tomas…. this is a good thing. Living now doesn’t mean you didn’t love her.”

“It feels that way.”

“But it won’t bring her back. I know this is going to sound clichéd, but would she want you to go on hiding out at the estancia, never finding happiness again?”

The answer was simple. In theory.

“Why tell me, Tomas? Why now?”

Indeed. Yes, he’d been increasingly unsettled lately and the only people in the world he could really talk to were the last ones he should speak to about his feelings. “Because I can’t talk to them. And you’re here. And in a few days you’ll be gone and it won’t matter.”

There was also the fact that there was this bizarre attraction to her, always simmering between them no matter what they were doing. She was bringing out all sorts of needs in him that he’d locked away for a long time. He pressed his lips together. That was more than he wanted her to know.

“I’m making it more difficult, aren’t I?” Her cheeks pinkened, a becoming flush of roses beneath her deep eyes. “I kissed you just now…”

How was it that she seemed to keep reading his thoughts? Having her put words to them fanned the flames all the more. “It’s not your fault,” he repeated. “You just make me…”