She turned away as she muttered bleakly, “Mom says you and Davis have made peace with each other.”
“We have, yes,” her father said. “We will never be friends. But I think we understand each other now. There can be true peace between us now. After all, we share two daughters….”
She took his meaning. Mercy was Davis’s daughter-in-law. And she, Elena, was his…
Not his daughter. No. She refused to even let herself think it. “Next, you’ll be telling me you want me to get to know him better.” Her voice was tinged with bitterness and she felt only slightly bad about that.
Her dad just smiled. “No. I will give you no advice when it comes to Davis Bravo.”
“Whew. Thank you.”
“But I will say that if you decide you want to meet with him, to talk with him, to find your way to some kind of closeness with him, I will be pleased for you.”
She gazed at him, disbelieving. “You’re not serious.”
“Ah, but I am. I told you, I see things much more clearly now. Don’t deny your blood father for my sake. There is no law that says you can’t have two fathers. The fact is you do have two fathers.” She opened her mouth to deny it, but he stopped her words with a look. “I’m not telling you what to do, m’hija. I’m only saying, if you hold back from knowing Davis, let it be by your own choice. Don’t lay the blame on me.” He picked up his coffee and took a thoughtful sip.
She was thinking about her mom again. “You know, it’s true what you said a few minutes ago. I love Mom. But I do blame her the most, I think, for everything that happened. She cheated and she lied. She lied every day for over twenty years.”
“M’hija.” With care, her father set down his cup. “Your mother knew me. She knew me so well. If she had told me the truth all those years ago, that she had been with Davis, that the baby—that you were Davis’s blood and not mine…my anger was so deep then. You can’t know how deep. I would have hurt her. And I would have gone after Davis. I might have killed him then, or someone close to him.”
“No!” She didn’t believe that.
He met her gaze steadily. “Yes,” he said. “Yes. Consider what did happen three years ago. I hit your mother when I learned the truth. And I got my pistol and I went after Davis.”
They were silent, the two of them, for what seemed like a long time. Somewhere outside, she heard a woman, calling, “Jenny! Jenny, where are you?” And a child answered, “Here, Mommy! Coming…”
Her father said, “So instead of the truth when you were born, we had happiness. As a family. We grew prosperous. And when the truth finally found us, well, at least I was older, a little bit wiser. A little more able to learn, slowly, from the hard lessons life has thrown at me—at all of us. Can you see that?”
“Yes. All right. I…I see what you mean.”
Her father almost smiled. “You’re wondering why I’ve said all this, wondering why I thought you needed to hear it.”
It had meant a lot—so very much—to hear him say out loud that she was his true daughter, to know that their bond was as strong as it had ever been. But as for the rest of it, well, “Maybe it was something you needed to tell me.”
He chuckled then. “Es verdad. I did need to tell you.” He was shaking his head. “I am so glad that I’m no longer young. It wasn’t easy to be young. So much passion. So much frustration. And confusion. It’s an exhausting time of life.”
She reached for him again, caught his hand. “Are you okay, Papi? I mean, really okay? You look so tired.”
He stood, pulled her close and wrapped her in a loving hug. “I am tired, yes. And yet, more myself. More…content than I have ever been.”
She moved back enough to meet his eyes, but remained in the circle of his strong arms. “Content.” She resisted the urge to make a sour face. “It’s what Mom said.”
“And we are content, your mother and I, both of us. Just as we are now. More than you know.”
What could she say to that? No, she didn’t get it. Didn’t get how anyone could be satisfied with mere contentment.
Was that because she was still young, as he said, still young and full of passion and confusion? Whatever. If he was happy with being “content,” well, who was she to argue with that?
Still, she couldn’t help teasing him, “So maybe you and Mom should get back together. She could retire, too. You could travel a little, get out and see the world, be ‘content’ together.”
He answered pretty much as her mother had. “I don’t think so, m’hija.”
She left it at that. In the end, it was her parents’ business, whether they lived apart or not. She might be young, but she knew that much.
He left a few minutes later. At the door, he hugged her one more time and told her how much he loved her.
And when he was gone, she felt really good—lighter, somehow. As if the things her father had said had lifted a weight off her shoulders, a weight she hadn’t even realized she was carrying. It occurred to her that this could end up being the best Easter ever, even if her mom and dad were apart.
At least there was peace between her parents now—what the psychologists always called “closure.” They each had their own personal “contentment.” Maybe that was as good as it got for them.
But not for her. She had her whole life ahead of her. Closure and contentment were the last things she wanted now.
She wanted excitement. Passion. Love, eventually.
And then everything that came with love: Commitment. Children. A family of her own.
But right now, what she wanted more than anything was to see Rogan Murdoch again.
And in a few hours, she would.
Rogan was beyond pissed at himself.
And he had been since about ten minutes after Elena drove away the night before, once he could no longer smell the tempting scent of her perfume. Once he’d returned to his senses.
What was the matter with him, to go leading her on like that? Walking her to the door. Flirting with her outright. Kissing her. He had more sense than that.
A man didn’t make moves on a woman like Elena without knowing exactly what kind of signal he was giving her.
It had been wrong, what he’d done. That one amazing, unforgettable kiss would have been more than enough to get her thinking they were going somewhere with each other—at the very least, on a first date.
He thought about that. About how maybe he should ask her out. And then he could explain his situation. He could tell her frankly that if she wanted anything more than his company or maybe a hot night of good sex—or two—he wasn’t her guy.
But considering his behavior last night, going out with her seemed like just begging for trouble. If he couldn’t keep his hands off her when they were at Caleb’s, with her adoring and protective big brother nearby, how was he going to exercise restraint if it were just the two of them?
No.
A date was not the answer.
Avoidance was. She was going to think he was a jerk, and he deserved that. Really, if you got right down to it, he was a jerk for sending her signals when he had no intention of following through on them.
Rogan went to the Bravo ranch determined to stay as far away from Elena Cabrera as he possibly could.
That plan lasted about an hour.