CHAPTER 15
Addler
A few minutes later, we’re headed past the house with the livestock carrier in tow. Her attention’s on the well-tended flower beds alongside the house, now that they’re on the passenger side. I can’t get over how easily she’s fit into my life these last two days. Well, not that I gave her much choice, especially this morning. I grin to myself, drifting back to the moment she was screaming my name.
“I can’t get over the flowers,” she says, dragging me back to the here and now.
“Mayela’s husband takes care of them. He does maintenance and weed control throughout the ranch.” I pull onto the caliche road. “In a ranch this size, that’s a full-time job. By the time he’s done going through all the acreage, he’s ready to start over.” As soon as the trailer straightens out behind us, I step on the gas, speeding up.
“Oh. That makes more sense.” She chuckles. “I couldn’t picture Ezequiel planting flower beds.”
I bust out laughing. “If Ezequiel was going to plant anything, it would be weed.” I shake my head, imagining him tending to a garden. “I think he tolerates the roses because they were planted by generations of Torres.” I glance into the rearview mirror. “The original trimmings may be older than you and me put together, two or three times over.”
Her eyes widen, making her look incredibly young and innocent. “How is that even possible?”
“Cultivation, good soil, and an abundance of fertilizer.” I slow down at the turn where we first saw the house, giving her the same introduction to the ranch I grew up with. “This is considered the pride of La Escuadra. Over there”—I point to the river—“is the bend in the river the ranch is known for.”
“I see it.” She looks out in the distance to where the bank on the Mexican side of the border shows the angle I mentioned. There’s a section that can’t be seen from this side. It’s the area people have talked about for ages.
I speed up again. “But the land where the Torres house and the de Marco house sit is fertile and even.” I look out over the acres of land where we’ve had cattle roaming for generations. All the droppings have mixed in over time, creating the best fertilizer money can’t buy. “We used to have watermelon over here when I was younger.” I point to a section of land close to the house where a garden had been planned but never came to fruition.
“Used to?” she asks as we pass the house. “What happened?”
Now there’s a memory to relive. “I got too close to a rattlesnake.”
“You weren’t armed?” She glances at the holster at my thigh.
“I was three,” I reply dryly.
“Oh my God, were you hurt?” she asks with genuine concern.
“No, my grandmother got to me in time and yelled for help.”
She lifts her chin, nodding in understanding. “You must have given your parents a heart attack.”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t let me out of their sight for weeks. On top of that, my grandfather lit into them for letting me wander away from the house.”
“Of course.” She nods. “You were his only grandchild.”
“Yeah, that was his point.” I blow out a breath. “The Torres line only produces one child per generation. I’m it.”
“I didn’t know that,” she says with wonder. “I always thought the small family was by choice.”
“No, and it wasn’t for lack of trying.” I grin.
She blushes prettily. “Well, I’m glad your grandfather got his point across.”
He got his point across, all right, with all the finesse of a sledgehammer. While he’s never been a fan of Mom’s flightiness, that was the first time he called her out directly. The scene was the thing of legend. Only outdone when I was brought home during senior year.
“He declared it open season on rattlers. All the cowboys got a bonus for every snake they brought in.” It was a hell of a lot of skins. “Meanwhile, my mom brought Mayela to look after me.”
“Sounds like you were a handful, even then.” She grins.
I give her a sidelong glance. “Why don’t you have your breakfast. We still have a ways to go before we get to the pond.”
* * *
Elena