Was it her imagination or were his eyelids more translucent and bruised-looking? He seemed thinner, if possible, from when she’d left him. The radiation gave him stomachaches, and on the days he had the treatments, he didn’t eat. Was he wasting away before her eyes? Could Dario reverse it?
“Mommy?” Nickolas barely uttered the word, but his eyes, open now, looked large and dark in the soft glow of light that was always on behind the bed.
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Shh. It’s very late, and we don’t want to disturb Henry.”
Nodding, he touched her face. “Did you bring my football shirt?”
“I have it. You can see it in the morning when there’s better light.”
“Okay. Will you stay?”
“Yes. I have to go sign some papers for Dr. Avery, but I’ll stay right here until after you go back to sleep. And I’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.”
He didn’t respond but grasped her hand, forcing her to perch awkwardly on the edge of the recliner. She watched his incredibly long eyelashes as his eyes slowly drifted shut. She loved him so much. Her heart was a lump of lead in her chest. Nick was incredibly trusting, as if he believed her very presence could make him better. If only that were true.
Sitting in the semidarkness amid the clicks, hums and beeps of the equipment monitoring her child’s vital signs, Delaney found herself praying that Dario would show up in San Antonio and his blood would be near enough a match to Nick’s to give their son a chance for a full recovery. So many times of late she had bargained with God for Nick’s life. She didn’t know what she had to give in exchange, but she’d put everything on the table.
Delaney brushed his warm little fingers with her thumb until his hand relaxed and dropped away from hers. Only then did she take the folder and go down to the empty waiting area. As a rule there were always anxious parents or other family members there, sitting in quiet groups, drinking coffee from the large industrial pot. Tonight she didn’t want coffee. But after reading the same paragraph several times without making sense of it, she rose and poured herself a cup. The aroma alone helped her digest the complicated content. She read to the end of the document, then sat and stared into space.
Her signature would permit Dr. Von Claus to place Nick in an experimental program where limited data suggested promise of beefing up his energy. As always there were risks. He might be allergic to the experimental cocktail of meds, for example.
Rising, she went to the sink and dumped what remained of her coffee. She remembered back to the boy her son had been after he’d gone into remission, before the fevers had returned with a vengeance. He’d been a normal, happy-go-lucky kid whose curiosity had seemed boundless. Now he was pale and wan, and intermittent fevers sapped his will to get out of bed.
Yawning, she paced around the table and massaged tight knots in her shoulders. If only she had family with whom to bat around the pros and cons of this offer. She hesitated to call it an opportunity, because all results from the study weren’t rosy.
Did she trust Dr. Von Claus and Dr. Avery? Without answering her own question, she picked up a pen and scribbled her name beside the red x’s. As a veterinarian there were times she’d given advice based on her gut instinct and sketchy evidence. Closing the folder, she took it back to Nurse Jessie. Then she took the thin blanket the nurse had scrounged up and hurried back to Nick’s room where she relaxed as best she could in the recliner.
* * *
A CRESCENT MOON and a few stars still adorned the lavender early morning sky when Dario exited the hacienda and tossed two suitcases into the back of his Range Rover. He was flying off to Texas, and he hadn’t slept much over the past several nights. His ears still rang from the daily battles with his father and his older brother, who also thought he ruled the roost now. Lorenzo had bowed out of the squabbles shortly after Delaney’s visit.
Dario thought about how much he disliked arguments, unlike the other hotheaded men in the Sanchez family. He’d tried to reason with them, then cajole them. He’d appealed to their sense of duty. Nothing swayed the old man or Vicente. During last night’s fracas at dinner, his father had threatened to have Benito Molina, the estancia attorney, strike Dario’s share in the hacienda and the business. Then Maria Sofia had waded in, demanding to know why she didn’t get an equal share of the family holdings, which opened a whole other debate. The three sons knew, of course, that su padre believed women should be taken care of by their father, brothers or husbands. Their little sister had her own strong views on that.
Hoping he could put the whole mess behind him while in Texas, Dario fastened his seat belt and thrust the key into the ignition. All at once the rear passenger door opened, and he saw a bag or two tossed in before the door slammed and he was plunged into darkness. Then the front passenger door opened, and Maria Sofia climbed in.
“What in the devil are you doing?” Dario roared.
“Going to Texas with you,” she said, settling into her seat. “We’d better hurry, or we could miss the flight.”
“We are not going anywhere. You, Maria Sofia, are staying here.”
She shook her head.
“Out.” He shooed at her with his right hand. “You don’t have a ticket, and even if I wanted to buy you one at the airport, even if there are spots available on both legs of my flight, Papa would skin us alive when we return.”
She pulled some papers from her shoulder bag and waved them under his nose. “I have tickets, Dayo. Papa paid, but he had Lorenzo book online for me.”
“Why? Why would Papa do that?”
“Drive, and I’ll tell you.”
Ribbons of sunlight had begun to lighten the sky overhead. Dario threw the Range Rover in gear. Only after they were through the gate did he ask, “So, did all of these big changes come about after I left the table last night?”
“Yes. Vicente would have no part of it. I could have done the booking myself. Papa is so provincial.” She shot Dario a grin that he didn’t return. “I think he caved because he’s afraid you’ll do something stupid, like marry Delaney Blair. And Lorenzo said, while I’m gone, Papa’s going hunting for some suitable man to take me off his hands. He’s near apoplectic at the thought of me wanting an equal share in the estancia.” She rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still thinks arranged marriages are acceptable?”
Dario grunted and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“My mother would have never gone along with that idea.”
“I don’t know.” Dario shrugged. “My mother would have fought him tooth and nail. She was a firebrand. Your mother was a lady in every sense of the word. She loved Papa and catered to his every whim.”
“That’s so lame. Well, I’m not going to be coerced into marriage. And you’re a fine one to talk. You walk off instead of standing up to Papa and Vicente. I guess I can understand you taking heat from Papa. But what right does Vicente have to yell and get so angry at you for wanting to go see Delaney Blair?”
Dario shot her a veiled look. “Vicente loved someone when he wasn’t much older than you are now. They were engaged, and planning a big wedding. Soledad begged to go with them when he and Papa delivered bulls to a rancher in Wyoming, and then she ran off with a rodeo bull rider. Vicente says he’s over it, but he isn’t. It’s why he doesn’t work with the bulls, never makes deliveries and instead only handles the financial end.”
“How come I didn’t know any of that?”
“You were a toddler. And Vicente remains bitter. He holds his loss against all Americans. That’s why I didn’t fight with him about Delaney. He’s not going to change his mind.”
“That’s