The three of them hadn’t moved before Santos came limping into the room. He was still wearing his red suit of lights. His right calf was bandaged, and his blood-stained pink sock drooped around his ankle.
“You were hurt?” Maggie asked, panicked anew.
“The bull’s horn scraped my leg as he went down. It’s nothing. I was told father had been brought here. Where is he?”
“He died,” Fox said before Maggie could supply a more compassionate response. “Dr. Moreno is across the hall. He’ll tell you what happened.”
Santos’s dark tan paled. “He’s dead?”
Maggie nodded. “We were watching the corrida, and he was so proud of you. He was stricken suddenly and rushed here, but he couldn’t be saved.”
Fox showed Santos across the hall. When he opened the door, Maggie could hear Carmen and Cirilda sobbing, and indeed, their hearts were broken. She gave Fernanda a comforting squeeze and stood to pace. Before she’d taken three steps, Rafael entered the small room. He was also still dressed in his traje de luces. They’d left the house so quickly, with such tragic results, she’d forgotten he’d have to fight a second bull.
“Santos told me Miguel was here, but as I walked in, I overheard someone say he’d died. Is it true?”
Fernanda took several gulping sobs and nodded. “We fought to save him but failed.”
“He saw your first fight,” Maggie told him. “He was impressed, just as you’d hoped he’d be.”
Sadness softened his features. “You were with him?”
“Yes, I wanted to see you, even if I couldn’t bear to watch your whole fight.”
Rafael braced himself against the doorjamb. “And he just died?”
“He had a massive coronary,” Fernanda interjected. “There was nothing any of us could have done.”
“I understand.” Rafael straightened up and came on into the room to embrace Maggie. His embroidered suit was rough against her skin, and he smelled like sweat and the bloody dirt of the bullring, but his warmth felt awfully good. She took his hand and pulled him down into a chair and sat beside him. “They may let you see him if you wait.”
He laced his fingers in hers. “I’d rather remember him as he was the last time I was with him, but I don’t want you to be alone.”
“Thank you,” Maggie replied, but she knew he’d idolized Miguel and would surely curse her name if he learned the truth. The truth would also break his heart, and she’d never reveal he might have been specially groomed to be an organ donor.
Fernanda at last gathered her resources and went to contact her supervisor. Fox returned from the other waiting room and sat down with them, but he looked as detached as Maggie felt, and she couldn’t blame him. He’d never felt part of the Aragon family, even if her father had adopted him, her grandmother and aunt hadn’t welcomed him. Maybe like Santos, they’d met too many of Miguel’s temporary women and children to have any love left for Fox.
The news of Miguel’s death spread throughout the hospital and quickly reached the news media. Reporters eager for details crowded the entrance of the hospital. Carmen, Cirilda and Santos sat with Miguel’s body for nearly an hour, as if to reassure themselves he was truly gone. When Dr. Moreno succeeded in convincing them to leave, he hurried Carmen and Cirilda out through the kitchen entrance. Santos came into their waiting room, sank into the chair beside Fox and held his head in his hands. Maggie left Rafael to go to her brother’s side.
He looked up at her and sat back with a weary sigh. “Our grandmother thinks you killed him. That’s as ridiculous as most of her opinions. Dr. Moreno didn’t believe he’d live this long. He should have agreed to a transplant months ago. He was still a young man, younger than Augustín when he died.”
Maggie sat beside him, looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. She had little in the way of comfort to give but felt his sorrow keenly. “He was enjoying the bullfights, and it happened so quickly.”
Rafael rose. “You don’t want to go home if your grandmother blames you. Let’s pick up your things so you’ll stay with me.”
“My place has to be larger,” Santos insisted. “You’ll be far more comfortable there.”
She couldn’t believe Santos would argue with Rafael now. Dismayed, she sat up and looked up at Rafael. “This was supposed to be such a good day for you.”
“It was,” Santos stressed. “He’s now a full matador de toros. Our father would have been proud.”
“He commented on how well you did, Rafael,” Maggie added. That was at least part of the truth.
“And died,” Rafael reminded her.
Maggie shook her head. “Not at that very second. I should call my mother.” She stood, then realized she’d left home without her purse or cell phone. “I don’t suppose either of you carries a cell phone in your fancy suits.”
“No,” Santos replied. “Although I’ve seen matadors who could have used one to summon help.”
“Let me take you home,” Rafael urged softly.