She’d closed her laptop when staff wheeled a new patient into Nick’s room. Delaney spoke quietly with his mother. Henry Nakamura, nearer Nick’s age, also needed marrow and had fewer possible matches in the national donor bank than did Nick. Delaney promised herself that when they got through this and Nickolas was on the mend, she would devote her spare time to educating people, especially those of mixed race, of the dire need to be tested, hopefully to improve the terrible statistics.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING she stopped to see Nick before heading to the airport. Parting from him took a toll on her heart.
“We’ll spend extra time with him while you’re gone,” Nick’s favorite nurse assured Delaney. “You just concentrate on what you have to do to get our little cowboy a donor.”
Tears clogged Delaney’s throat. All she could do was nod and swallow hard during her final wave to Nick. Pulling herself together, she dredged up a smile. “I’ll phone you every day,” she managed to remind him, pointing to the prepaid cell phone she’d brought him.
“’Kay, Mommy.”
His breakfast arrived. Luckily for Delaney, her last glimpse of him showed him chatting with Henry about food.
Delaney couldn’t relax on the cab ride to the airport or after she checked in. She’d brought veterinary journals to read on the long journey, but once the plane took off, her mind kept wandering. She continually reworded what she would say to Dario when she saw him.
Over eleven hours later when the flight attendant told everyone to prepare for descent into Buenos Aires, a major worry suddenly hit Delaney: What if Dario was out of the country delivering bulls? Oh, why hadn’t she phoned Dario? That had been her first inclination.
Dawn was breaking. She rented a small SUV and checked into her hotel. She had managed scant little sleep on the flight. And yet, because she was anxious to put the meeting behind her and get back to Nickolas, she decided to sponge off, change and drive straight to the estancia.
Though it was fall in Texas, it was spring here in Argentina, on the other side of the equator. Most of the clothes she had taken to Lubbock were for cooler weather. Pride, though, had her opting for the one sundress she’d packed. Grabbing a cardigan, she made a face at the drawn woman in the mirror. There was nothing she could do about the plethora of freckles she’d never liked, or the dark circles under her eyes.
Delaney stopped at the front desk to ask a clerk for directions to Estancia Sanchez. She had only the address from the website.
Taking out a map and pen, the clerk drew a line that meandered through the city and out into what looked to Delaney like countryside. “I didn’t realize the ranch was so far from the hotel,” she murmured.
“It’s actually nearer San Rafael. Depending on traffic, you should reach the estate in a couple of hours. It’s a beautiful drive. Estancia Sanchez is muy bonito. The owners are well respected,” the clerk said.
“Oh, do you know the family?” Delaney asked.
“I know of them. Many people mourned a few years ago when the patriarch was badly injured in a car accident that killed his wife. His second wife,” she added after glancing around and lowering her voice.
Delaney blanched. “I...oh, I had no idea.”
The clerk broke off speaking as she reached for a phone that had started ringing.
Mouthing a thank-you, Delaney clutched the map and hurried to her vehicle. As she wound through narrow city streets, the clerk’s words loomed in her thoughts. She didn’t want to feel sympathy for Dario. After all, her own father had died soon after Dario so callously ran out on her. Still, she spared a twinge of sorrow for him and his family. During their whirlwind romance, Dario had admitted that he hoped to leave the family bull trade. He had a university degree in environmental science and wanted to find a job in that field. She remembered his interest in the Texas weather patterns and water, or the prolonged lack thereof. He had been particularly passionate about the world’s water shortage. But what he did with his life was no concern of hers. Water shortages, droughts and Dario Sanchez paled in comparison to Nick’s problems. Her only reason for being here, for seeking out Dario, was to convince him to be tested for bone marrow compatibility with a son he had no idea he’d fathered.
Brother! Doing her best to focus on the gently rolling hills lush with spring grass instead, she at last rounded a bend that opened up to the grand vista the hotel clerk had mentioned. There she saw a wrought-iron arch proclaiming the compound beyond to be the Estancia Sanchez.
After she drove beneath the arch, Delaney realized that the entire estate was behind high, thick sand-colored adobe walls. She parked outside massive double wooden gates flanked by huge, intricately crafted carriage lamps. Alighting from her vehicle, she discovered the gates were locked tight. Noticing an intercom, she pressed a button. Nothing happened at first, then she heard the device crackle to life, and a man’s deep voice growled something in Spanish.
Swallowing back a lump of anxiety, Delaney rose on her toes to speak directly into the box. “I’d like to see Dario. We met on one of his trips to Texas,” she said lamely.
“It’s Vicente speaking,” he said. “Who are you? Please, state your business.”
“I...uh...my name is Delaney Blair.” She wasn’t prepared for the vitriol spewed back at her in heavily accented English.
“You have some nerve coming here after all of the trouble you and your father caused my family during a time of crisis. You are not welcome. I suggest you leave now.”
“What do you mean? I didn’t cause trouble.”
The intercom sputtered again, but the light blinked out.
“No, wait. You don’t understand. I have to speak with Dario.” Panic-stricken, Delaney pressed the button repeatedly, but to no avail. She doubled a fist and hit the intercom, but it really didn’t help erase her frustration. Darn it, she had come too far to be thwarted by one of Dario’s brothers. Vicente was obviously under some mistaken impression. Dario had left Texas by the time her own life had dissolved in a major crisis. And it was her father’s lawyer and the bank who’d returned those bulls.
She stalked back to the SUV and glanced up and down the long wall. She could see the tops of some lacy trees inside. A colorful bird landed on a branch, trilling happily. The normalcy of that eased Delaney’s fast-beating heart. Used to solving problems that arose in her life and vet practice, she wracked her brain for a solution. She eyed the wall, the trees and her SUV, and came up with a plan.
She backed the rental vehicle up to the wall opposite the tree and got out. Wishing she’d worn jeans rather than this silly sundress, she removed the cardigan and slipped off her sandals. Buckling her sandals to her belt, she boosted herself onto the hood and then up to the roof of the SUV. From there, she leaped to the top of the wall where she balanced precariously on her belly.
Taking a few moments to gather her breath and strength to propel herself into the tree branches, she caught the sound behind her of a rapidly approaching horse. Busted, Delaney teetered unsteadily as she swung around to see who had interrupted her breaking and entering. To her shock it was a pretty blonde woman seated atop a spirited palomino mare that danced and kicked up dust around the SUV.
“What are you doing?” The rider brought her mount right up to where Delaney dangled. “I’m Maria Sofia Sanchez,” the young rider said, sounding imperious and oddly more British than Spanish. “You are headed for big trouble attempting to illegally enter my family’s hacienda.”
Tired, but determined to not look pitiful in front of any of Dario’s relatives, Delaney dropped back to the roof of the SUV and wiped her hands on her dress. She looked down at the rider. The slender