Rosita looked away, embarrassed for Lily and not wanting to cause her any further discomfort. Her own daughters would never speak to her this way, especially not in front of someone else. It seemed a shame that such a fine lady like Lily had to put up with such rude behavior.
“I had better see if they have enough wine.” Rosita nodded toward some of the trays scattered about on the surrounding tables. “It looks as if we are gathering too many empty glasses.”
“Oh, there you are.” Coming up behind Lily, Ryan slipped his arms around her, hugging her to him. “I haven’t had a chance to claim a dance with you in the last hour. Baxter Cordell is talking my ear off about some infernal idea. Something about a dude ranch, of all things. Come save me,” he urged the woman who shared his heart and his bed, and would someday soon, God willing, share his name as well.
Turning around in his arms so that she faced him, Lily pretended to sigh. “All right, if I must.” Some of the tension began to leave her brow as she let Ryan lead her away.
“I saw you hovering by Taylor.” Ryan curled her hand in his.
“Just being wistful,” Lily admitted. She looked back toward her daughter holding the baby. It made for a pretty picture. “I can’t wait until one of the children makes me a grandmother.”
Ryan laughed and shook his head. “You’re far too young looking, Lily, for anyone to think of you as a grandmother.”
Her laughter, light and airy, mingled with his. “That’s part of the joy of it.”
Rosita looked thoughtfully over at Maria. Perhaps you already are one.
It was 3:30 a.m. All the guests had gone. Darkness and quiet enveloped the Fortune family home. Bolting upright, Rosita cried out in surprised anguish before her eyes opened to admit the darkness within her bedroom.
Lying beside her, Ruben roused himself. Though he was not a stranger to these kinds of outbursts from his wife in the middle of the night, it took him a moment to orient himself and pull himself together.
Half asleep, still lying in bed, he managed to thread his arms around her waist. “Shh, Rosita, it was just a bad dream.”
“Yes,” she agreed breathlessly, her pulse still beating erratically. “No,” she declared suddenly, as things began to focus in her brain. “Not a bad dream, an omen. A sign.” Excited, breathless, she shifted, looking at her husband. His eyes were half closed. Rosita shook him by the shoulder. “It was a sign.”
Ruben opened his eyes reluctantly. “What are you talking about?”
It was all still jumbled in her head, but bits and pieces were becoming clearer. A feeling of urgency filled her, although she didn’t know why. “I dreamed that Lily was nursing a baby.”
“What baby?”
“I’m not sure.”
Ruben turned on his side. His arm under his pillow, he snuggled against it. He was anxious to get a little more sleep before dawn and hard work met him. “That’s nice.”
Upset by his reaction, Rosita leaned over her husband, talking directly into his ear. “Don’t you want to hear the rest of the dream?”
Ruben struggled against irritation and tried to maintain his hold on sleep. “Why would I want to hear what indigestion has made you dream of?”
He was always blaming her visions on indigestion. But he was a man and knew little about things like visions. “Not indigestion.” She shook his shoulder again. “Listen to me, old man.”
He sighed, knowing that he was waging a losing battle. But he was bound to try anyway.
“The middle of the night is the time for sleeping, not listening.” His eyes shut, he willed her into silence—as if that ever worked. “I will listen in the morning.” When he fervently hoped all this nonsense of hers would be forgotten. He supposed that made him a bit of a dreamer, too.
But Rosita was determined to talk about her dream now, while the pieces were all still fresh in her mind. “I was watching Maria with the baby at the wedding today.”
More awake than asleep now, Ruben sighed again. “You had nothing better to occupy yourself with?” he mumbled into his pillow.
She ignored the question. “The baby seemed to recognize Maria.”
Ruben turned toward her. This had to stop. He couldn’t sleep if she insisted on talking. “How could he recognize anyone? He is only, what? Three months old perhaps? And besides, he has been here for only a few weeks.”
Vindicated, Rosita held up a finger for emphasis. “That is my point.”
She had lost him. It was nothing new. Ruben had learned a long time ago not to try to keep up with the way his wife’s mind worked. It only led to frustration in the end.
“Your point is dull, my love. Now, please, for the love of our children, let me get some sleep before I fall off my horse tomorrow.”
He was turning away from her. In a moment, she knew he would be asleep. The man was infuriating. “But you haven’t heard my dream yet.”
Ruben sighed again, louder this time. It was a sigh of resignation, if not surrender. There was no talking her out of it.
“All right.” Turning, he faced her squarely, his eyes wide open—the way they probably would remain for the rest of what was left of the night, he thought mournfully. “Tell me your dream and then maybe we’ll both get some sleep.” Although he sincerely doubted it.
Victorious, Rosita proceeded slowly now, for effect and drama. “I dreamed that Lily was nursing a baby.” She paused significantly. “Suddenly, the baby transformed into a scorpion and stung her!”
“Definitely indigestion,” Ruben pronounced. Having done his duty, he turned away from her again. “All right, you have told me. Now let’s get some sleep.”
Disappointed, Rosita glared at him. What did she expect? He was a man and didn’t understand these things. “You are impossible.”
“No, only tired.”
The sentence came out in a soft sigh. Ruben was asleep before the last word was out of his mouth, leaving Rosita to lie beside him, upset and fuming.
And convinced that her vision contained more than an ounce of truth….
“Are you sure?” Cruz looked at his sister, surprised and maybe just a little more pleased than he wanted to let on, even to himself. Maggie had come knocking on his door this morning with the news just as he was about to head toward the stable.
It had stopped him in his tracks.
Maggie grinned at her older brother. So, she’d been right. There was something going on between Cruz and Vanessa’s friend. Watching him last night, she’d sensed that something was up, but she hadn’t been sure until just this moment.
“Of course I’m sure.” She fell into step with him as he went to get his horse.
“Do you know how long she’ll be staying?”
Cruz’s curiosity tickled her. He’d always been so very fickle before, going through women like a man leafing slowly through the pages of a magazine. This time, it looked as if he’d stopped to read the story that went along with the pictures.
About time, Maggie thought.
Cruz had spent the better part of the reception in Savannah Clark’s company. That had to mean something since he normally divided his time with no less than five women during the course of one of these parties.
But to say so, Maggie