Michelle Celmer - Honeymoon with the Rancher / Nanny Next Door - Honeymoon with the Rancher / Nanny Next Door

Sophia just hadn’t found her place yet, but it wasn’t his job to show her. The words of assurance sat on his tongue but he remained silent, knowing that if he offered them to her, it would open him up to more questions. He wasn’t sure where life was going to lead him and he didn’t want to get into it with Sophia. Too many people offered their opinions as it was. As much as he loved it here on the estancia, his family kept asking when he was coming back. It was a question he could not answer. The idea of going back to Buenos Aires and taking his place at Motores Mendoza held little appeal. Lately he’d been feeling disconnected, and it unsettled him. Going back to Buenos Aires and the family business would sever that connection completely, and he couldn’t do it.

“It is beautiful here,” Sophia called from ahead of him. “So open and free.” She reined in a bit so his horse’s head was at her flank. “The big things melt away, don’t they.”

He exhaled slowly. Perhaps she was faking her riding experience, but there was no faking the approval he heard in her voice. “It does tend to put things in perspective,” he replied carefully, pleased that she understood but still on his guard. Somehow the words tethered the two of them together, and that made him uncomfortable. “I have done a lot of thinking riding along this path.” And he had, ever since the first visit when Miguel had brought him home to meet his family.

He’d walked in the door and everything in his world had changed. Everything. He had been greeted warmly. And he had laid eyes on Rosa and it was as though the world stopped turning.

The path grew steeper as they descended to the creek bed. She was being cautious, he noticed, knowing the criollo horses’ nimble feet could more than handle the narrow path. At the bottom the mare gave a little hop and he heard a squeak come from ahead.

He watched the curve of Sophia’s bottom as it swayed with the lazy stride of the mare. This morning he’d been sorely tempted to reach out and pull her into his arms when she’d seen the spider. Her alarm had been real, not put on, and he’d felt oddly protective of her. He shook his head. They would keep the pace slow, that was all.

A little further down the bed was a lee, sheltered from the wind. Tomas and Miguel had come here often to build a fire and share mate. He urged his horse forward and past Sophia, leading the way. If she didn’t take a break, she would be sore in the morning from sitting in the saddle too long. This was the perfect place to rest. He had been here many times since coming to the estancia.

He dismounted and waited for her to follow, then tethered both horses to a low bush. “Come,” he said, and held out a hand to help her over the scrabbly rocks. “I want to show you something.”

She put her hand in his and his body tightened.

It was a trusting move and he hadn’t expected the sweetness of it. The sharp-tongued cobra of yesterday had disappeared … when? When she’d come to the kitchen in her bare feet? This morning, when she’d blinked up at him in the baggy coveralls?

Her hand was small and soft and a lump formed in his throat. When was the last time someone had put their hand in his so trustingly? A long time. It bothered him that he couldn’t remember. So many things he’d taken for granted and brushed off, not realizing how important they would become later. Things like the last time he had held Rosa’s hand, kissed her lips. The last time he’d said “I love you” and heard her say his name. Those moments were gone forever, leaving a vacuum in their place.

They went to the curve in the hill where two flat rocks waited. “Oh!” she exclaimed, letting go of his hand and moving forward delightedly. Sophia went to the first stone and perched upon it, her hands on her knees.

She looked about eighteen years old. Where was the high fashion barracuda in stilettos demanding he make good on the reservation? It had been false bravado. He understood that now. The woman before him was an enchanting sprite with flaming curls and bright eyes. This was the real Sophia. Her excitement was fresh and genuine and far more difficult to resist.

“This is so neat! You can’t even see it from above!”

“Which made it perfect for staying hidden.” He followed her, moving towards the twin boulders, his boots crunching on the gravel.

“Who were you hiding from?”

“Mostly Carlos and Maria. Miguel and I would grab a couple of horses and come out. He was in a hurry to finish school and go to the city. I was dying to get out of the fast pace and expectations and this became my second home. He still loves it—I don’t think you can take the pampas out of the boy. But he is working in Córdoba now, teaching at one of the universities.”

He sat on the other stone and stared at the bubbling creek.

“Do you normally bring guests here on the trail rides? It’s lovely.”

“No, not usually.” He suddenly knew this was a bad idea. The last thing he needed to do was start doing special things with her. She was no different than any other guest. She couldn’t be.

“And so you have made your home with Maria and Carlos, working the estancia with them.”

Tomas smiled. She made it sound so simple, when it wasn’t. Not at all. He could tell her that he was joint owner, but for some reason he didn’t want to.

“I prefer it to being with my own family. I know, that sounds awful, as if I don’t love them. And I know in my way I do. But what you said before, about looking for someone … I understand that. It is when I am here that I feel most myself. If somehow a trip here is managing to give that to you, too, I’m glad. Sometimes …” He thought about what she’d told him only minutes before. “Sometimes being here I remember I don’t have to try so hard.”

They were quiet for a few moments. He looked over at Sophia. She was gazing out over the creek and the waving grasses, her expression utterly relaxed, her hands resting on her knees.

“I know what you mean about trying hard out here. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I didn’t think so when I first drove up. It wasn’t what I was expecting. But now I think perhaps the estancia is well named. View of Heaven … yes. I think your pampas might have a way of winding itself around a person’s heart.”

And just like that, Sophia started winding herself around him. She understood what it was he felt about the pampas, about Vista del Cielo. It was the last thing he expected and the sensation was pleasant and disturbing all at once.

“I think I’ve been trying hard for a long time,” she continued. “To please people. To be what they wanted me to be. I don’t even really know what I want.”

He nodded. “But you have time. You’re what, twenty-four, twenty-five?” He traced a fingernail over the rock’s surface. “This is a whole new beginning for you. You get to decide who you want to be.”

Her smile was wide. “Thank you, Tomas.” She tipped her campero back further on her head. “I sometimes worry that I’ve taken this trip for revenge. It’s not a very attractive quality. After what you just said … I hope that instead I use it as a springboard for doing things better.” He saw a glimmer of moisture in her eyes. “Living honestly, if that makes sense.”

Oh, it made sense all right. And at least her catastrophe was only a cancelled wedding. She had no need of the remorse that Tomas still felt about his own personal wake-up call.

“Anyway,” she changed the subject lightly, “I am looking forward to meeting Maria and Carlos.” She stretched out her legs and tilted her face up to the sun.

“You will like them,” he answered quietly.

“Do you suppose their son will ever have children? Is he married? My grandmother always joked that grandchildren were the bane of her existence. She didn’t like kids any more than she liked farm life.” Sophia chuckled.