“Speaking. What can I do for you?”
“This is Hector Morales, Rosalinda’s father.”
Shit. Had Rose unloaded all that had happened to her dad? Was Mr. Morales calling to tell him to never come near his daughter again unless he wanted to stare down a double barrel?
“Rosalinda is on her way here to pick up Sage, and I’d like you to come have supper with us.”
Had he heard Mr. Morales correctly? Come over for supper? He cleared his throat. Not only was it already four o’clock in the afternoon and Del Rio wasn’t exactly just around the block but it was obvious Rose’s father had no idea what sort of disaster had just transpired.
“Sir, I—” His throat, scratchy, needed clearing. “I don’t think Rose wants to see me.”
“Why not?” Mr. Morales asked.
He cleared his throat again.
“We, eh, I mean she’s pretty upset with me.”
“It’s true, she was upset when she called me—”
“I promise I never meant to hurt her. I promise I’ve tried to apologize. I need you to know I love her and I care about her and Sage, and I’m sorry if I screwed things up but I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop talking.”
Mr. Morales interrupted his rambling. Toby clammed up, that pain once more churning in his stomach and killing his fragile appetite.
“I asked if you’d to come for supper. Will you?”
A giddy skip jumpstarted his pulse into overdrive. Obviously his nerves were misguided. Giddiness had no business making him excited when he feared all he’d get from Rose was anger. He fumbled for Shirley’s chair, needing to sit.
“She’s planning to drive to your ranch afterward, but I worry that she’s pushing herself. She drove back to Austin yesterday and is making the trip here today. I don’t think she got much sleep last night, and I don’t want her driving even farther when she’s so tired, especially with mi nieto in her car.”
Why did she want to drive out to the Legacy? Stupid excitement jumped in his stomach. And she definitely shouldn’t drive with Sage in the car if she was on the brink of exhaustion.
“So I’d like you to come to supper tonight instead.”
Toby swallowed, thinking. “It’ll take a few hours to make it to Del Rio from here.”
“She’s about three hours away. What a coincidence.”
It was almost as if Rose’s father was planning something.
“You come to my ranch, Valle de la Cabra, okay? Goat Valley Ranch. You can’t miss it on 377. A big gate with two chivos locking horns.”
Toby scribbled on the paper. “Okay. But are you sure Rose wants—”
The man had already hung up. He frowned. What the hell was he getting himself into? And if Rose was surprised in the worst way—she’d once said surprises didn’t always impress—would this backfire? He bounced back to his feet anyway and paced through the great room, skipping down the stairs out the kitchen side door to the foreman’s cabin. Sam was just walking out the door to his truck, having washed up for his appointment.
“Sam, I gotta hit the road. You do your thing; just let the boys know I’m gone, would you?”
“Sure, boss. They’ll hold down the fort. Where you headed?”
“Del Rio. To Rose’s father’s place.”
Sam grinned, the leathery crease in his cheeks deepened, and he socked Toby’s shoulder playfully. Toby shook his head, turning back to the house.
“You get lost, then, boss, and go get that woman.”
Man, his foreman was getting ahead of himself. Toby might very well find himself in the hot seat when he got there.