Elizabeth August - Marrying O'malley

“You could go to college.”

They’d had this discussion before, as well. “I don’t want to go to college. I like my life as it is.”

“You have taken the vow you made to your father to watch over me much too seriously. You’ve restricted your opportunities. You work at the café, you come home and work in the garden, you ride your horse, you take care of me. What kind of life is that?”

“Peaceful.” Silently she admitted that there were times when her life seemed to lack fulfillment, but she wasn’t ready to admit that to her grandfather. Both her mother and grandmother had died when she was very young. Her father and grandfather had raised her. When she was in her late teens her father had died, leaving her the only one left to watch over the old man in front of her, and she would not shirk that duty.

“I worry about what will happen to you when I’m gone. I don’t want to see you alone in the world. You should have a husband and a family.”

They’d had this conversation a hundred times before. Her usual response was to say that she would do just fine on her own, that she liked being an independent woman. The words formed on the tip of her tongue, but when she opened her mouth, she heard herself saying, “All right. I’ll admit, I’d like to find a husband and have a family. But I’m not so desperate I’d take your money and go scouring the world or college campuses for one.”

Triumph glistened in his eyes. “You could go stay with my cousin José in Mexico City,” he coaxed. “The last time you were there, you had four proposals.”

“They wanted an American wife so they could come to this country.”

“You don’t have enough faith in yourself. One, maybe two, had that in mind, but not all four. I know for a fact that Greco was in love with you.”

“He got over it fast enough. He was married within two months of the time I left and the father of twins barely nine months later.”

“You rejected him and he was forced to move on with his life.”

“For someone as desperately in love as he claimed, he moved on fairly quickly, don’t you think?” she returned dryly.

Luis’s gaze narrowed on her with purpose. “I want to see you married, with a husband to look after you.”

“I don’t need anyone to look after me.” She gave an impatient snort. “Men! If I was a male you wouldn’t be so anxious about my being married.”

“You’re wrong. I would want you to have a wife to look after you. When the Lord ordered Noah to gather all the animals in pairs, he did it for a reason. The man looks after the woman and the woman looks after the man. Together they make a whole.”

“I feel perfectly whole on my own.”

“Evening,” a male voice drawled, as its owner rounded the corner of the house.

Startled, Sarita gasped.

“Guess I forgot to mention that Wolf is going to be boarding with us,” her grandfather said.

“I was driving by your place to take a look at my property when I saw the Room for Rent sign,” Wolf said, mounting the porch.

Sarita stared at him. “You and me under the same roof?”

“I know we used to get on each other nerves as kids but we’re adults now. I figure we can keep our tempers in check.”

“Sure, no problem.” She knew she’d sound childish if she voiced any doubts, but already the thought of his continued presence was causing an uneasiness within. He’s right, grow up, she ordered herself.

“I told him he could have kitchen privileges as long as he cleans up after himself. And he’s paying extra to have his evening meal provided,” Luis spoke up. “I warned him it wouldn’t be anything fancy. I’ve got a stew cooking for tonight. Figured you could make some corn bread.”

“Corn bread, sure,” she managed levelly.

Wolf nodded his approval. “Stew and corn bread sound great.”

Getting over the shock of seeing him, Sarita began to wonder how much of the conversation between her grandfather and her he’d overheard. Voices traveled on the arid air. Her shoulders stiffened with pride. So what if he knew she was on her way to spinsterhood? Even if he hadn’t overheard, he’d have guessed it soon enough. He knew she was twenty-eight. And it was obvious she wasn’t married. If he stuck around, he’d soon learn she didn’t have any prospects, either. “I’ll go check on the stew.”

After giving the stew a quick stir, Sarita could not keep herself from doing a little eavesdropping at the living room window. Wolf had settled into the chair beside her grandfather on the front porch, and the men were discussing the weather and whether it would be a hard winter or not. Self-mockery spread over her face as she admitted to herself that she’d been afraid they’d been discussing her. You’re the last subject in the world that would interest Wolf O’Malley, her inner voice chided.

Leaving the men on their own, she busied herself in the guest room, making certain it was dusted and fresh linens were on the bed. A single leather satchel lay on the floor, still packed. Staring down at it, she recalled that once during her teenage years she’d found herself unexpectedly attracted to him and visualized him suddenly looking her way, seeing her as appealing and coming to call.

“Now that was a moment of lunacy,” she grumbled to herself. Scowling at the bag, she hoped he would change his mind and seek other quarters.

“There’s nothing in there that will bite.”

Jerking her gaze to the door, she saw Wolf standing there, watching her from behind a shuttered mask. “I was just getting your room into shape,” she managed evenly.

He continued to stand in the doorway, blocking her escape. “If you’re worried that I’ll harm you or your grandfather, I promise you I won’t.”

She frowned in confusion. “That thought never crossed my mind.”

He scowled with disbelief. “I know the stories Kath erine spread about me. Everyone in town thinks I pushed her down those stairs.”

“Not everyone. I never did. And neither did my father or grandfather.”

His expression remained skeptical.

Feeling the need to prove her words, she added, “It’s not that we didn’t think she could have provoked you into it, it’s just that if you had done it, you would have admitted it.”

Bitterness etched itself into his features. “It’s a shame my father didn’t have the same faith in me.”

“From what I’ve heard, Katherine can be very persuasive.”

Purpose replaced the bitterness on his face. “This time she’ll learn that she’s met her match.”

Sarita suddenly was worried for him. She’d seen Katherine in action and knew the woman could be a formidable foe. “Be careful,” she warned.

“I plan to,” Wolf assured her.

She found herself considering offering her aid, should he need it, and recalled the last time she’d tried to befriend him. No sense in embarrassing herself a second time, she decided. “I should get back to the kitchen.” Edging toward the door, she gave him space to move out of her way.

Stepping aside, Wolf let her pass. As she headed down the hall, he watched her. Earlier in the day, Bradford had offered him a room at his place and he’d accepted. But when he’d driven out to the land that had brought him back, he’d passed the Lopez property and seen the Room for Rent sign on their gate. His curiosity still piqued by his early-morning encounter with Sarita at the cemetery, he’d called Bradford and told him that his plans had changed.

He frowned as he started to unpack. Sarita Lopez wasn’t pleased to have him there. That was obvious. So why the visit to his grave? Her explanation that she thought someone should remember him seemed lame considering their history. “Joe always said trying to read a woman’s mind is harder than figuring reasons for God to have created mosquitoes,” Wolf muttered under his breath. “And he’s right.”