Abigail Gordon - Their Forever Family

Duncan helped her to adjust the headphones so they could speak to each other over the headset and started the plane. The hum of the engine whined in her ears and the vibration pulsed through her. Excitement and eagerness fought with equal parts of anxiety and nausea inside her as Duncan got all serious and went through his preflight checks.

“Any mishaps over the years?” Although it was wise to ask, it also felt impolite.

“Only one. Daisy got sick every time.” Though he answered the question honestly, he didn’t elaborate and continued his preparations.

“Oh, I see.” A sick, jealous feeling surged inside her, and she pushed it down. Though he’d kissed her, she didn’t have any right to be jealous. Knowing he’d flown another woman multiple times put a damper on the day. Another yoga breath to clear those thoughts. And she ignored the tremor in her hands. It was nothing.

“She hated flying, but once she got her paws on the ground she was a whole new dog. Raced through the fields like a puppy.”

“Paws?” That opened up a whole new dimension to the situation.

“Yes, she was my dog. Chocolate lab. Never had another dog like her.” A wistful sigh escaped him. “She was a gift from my mother when I was twelve. Said I needed to learn how to take care of a four-legged female before I could ever consider taking care of a two-legged one.”

Relief flowed through Rebel and a warm pulse in her chest followed. A dog.

Someone spoke into the headset, and Duncan responded. Rebel remained quiet as they bumped out onto the runway and prepared to take off.

Her heart raced and her mouth went dry. Clenching her hands on the seat didn’t relieve her anxiety, but she couldn’t help it, just as she couldn’t help the grin that exploded on her face when the tires left the pavement and they were airborne.

A TOTALLY GIRLISH squeal erupted from her throat. “Oh, my, this is incredible!” There were so many things to look at all at once out of every window of the plane, she felt as if her head were on a swivel. There was the river, the mountains, cars on the highway, and all kinds of buildings that were growing smaller and smaller.

Duncan’s chuckle sounded warm in her ears. “Keep that up and you’re gonna barf. Pick one side of the plane to look out of.”

That got her attention. So uncool to barf in front of witnesses. “Good to know.”

“Look to your right, there’s the Rio Grande. Locals say it without the emphasis on the e at the end. And I’ve heard people add the word river at the end. It literally translates to river big, so no need to add river on the end.”

“Dead giveaway for tourists, right?” Note to self.

“You got it.”

For the next hour Duncan kept her entertained by pointing out the sights below and didn’t make her one bit nauseated. She was fascinated by all the knobs and dials he tended to. No wonder his truck looked like a small plane on the inside. He was used to it.

“We’re coming in over the property now.”

Rebel looked at a beautiful patchwork of red dirt and green vegetation, whirls of dirt kicked up by a tractor adding another dimension to the scene below. The engine changed tone, and Rebel clutched the seat.

“Don’t worry, just have to slow the plane so we can land.”

“Down there?” She raised her brows and didn’t see a thing large enough to land on. “Uh, where?”

He chuckled. “Yes, down there. Don’t worry. I’ve never missed the airstrip yet.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Duncan expertly guided the plane down until they were just a few feet above the dirt. Rebel cringed and closed her eyes tightly, held her breath.

Then a few bumps, the pressure of the brakes pressed her forward into the seat belt and then flung her back into it as they came to a dusty, bouncy stop unscathed.

“You okay?” Duncan asked, and looked at her.

“I’m okay.”

Duncan reached toward her, his hands cupping her face as he pushed off the headset. “Welcome to Hatch.”

Both doors were flung open from the outside and two young men, bearing a strong resemblance to Duncan, peered in at them.

“Come on, he’s waiting for you.”

Rebel smiled as she stepped out onto solid ground again.

“Rebel, these are my nephews, Jake and Judd,” Duncan said as he introduced them. They rode in a golf cart on a dirt track that paralleled a field of chili. In minutes, they approached a huge, two-story home that reminded her of pictures she’d seen of historic old Mexico. Beautiful, traditional and exotic.

“There he is.”

Rebel noticed a hunched-over old man standing on the porch. He raised a hand, and she waved back, though she knew he couldn’t see her. The old man appeared to lean on something, and she thought it might be a cane or a walker. With the sun bright overhead, she shaded her eyes with one hand and as they neared the house she realized she’d fallen victim to a trick of light and shadow.

The man was six feet tall and as robust as she could imagine any ninety-year-old could be. Duncan had said he was impressive, and Rebel believed him. The cart stopped at the edge of the patio, and Duncan stepped out, then offered a hand to assist her. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” Rebel said, and straightened her spine. “I’ve taken on many patients his age. I can handle him.” A snort erupted from one of the nephews in the front seat, but Rebel didn’t know which one.

Duncan walked beside Rebel with anticipation humming through him. He didn’t really know why. They weren’t a couple, they weren’t even dating. The last time he’d introduced a woman to his grandfather it had ended in disaster. The man had seen right through her and had made no bones about what he thought of her.

They’d broken up the next day.

“So this is the lady friend you were tellin’ me about?” he asked, and stepped forward.

“Yes. Allow me to introduce my friend and a nurse, Rebel Taylor. Rebel, this is my grandfather, Rafael McFee, current owner of this impressive empire.”

Rafael held his hand out to Rebel, and she didn’t know whether to shake it or curtsy, so she went with a firm grip. She’d seriously have to amend her mistaken assumption he was going to be elderly, frail and cute. This man was anything but, and she could see how Duncan had inherited his strong, commanding presence and control.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Duncan has mentioned you several times.” She hoped that was okay.

Without releasing her hand, he gave Duncan a narrow-eyed look. “I’ll bet he did.” His accent was soft with a mixture of Spanish and Scottish inflections. Rafael tucked her hand into his elbow and led the way to an outdoor patio, a portál , if she remembered correctly. “Did he tell you I chased off his last girlfriend?”

Rebel gave a panicked look at Duncan’s enigmatic expression, then returned it to Rafael. “No. No, he didn’t. But as I’m not his girlfriend, I don’t have to worry about you chasing me off, do I?”

“Well, there’s still the matter of you walking into my home brazenly displaying the colors of a rival clan, now, isn’t there?”

Rebel laughed and patted him on the arm. “Now, that’s a whole other issue.”

They settled at a large wooden table with chairs made of wood and cowhide, and an older Hispanic woman emerged from inside, carrying a tray of iced tea. She didn’t have the manner of a hired member of staff, but carried herself as if she had been around this family for a long, long time.

“I’m Lupe, and I run this madhouse,” she said, then turned to Rebel. “Now, be on your best manner.”

Rebel raised her brows and Duncan said, “She’s talking to him, not us.”