Already Lorraine could see how easy it would be to love this man. He might have been militant in his youth, but despite the tragic results of his actions, he’d joined the antiwar effort for compassionate reasons. He’d repented his mistakes and was obviously still a good man, but one who’d achieved self-knowledge.
Lorraine was grateful to have found him.
It had been a shock when Lorraine showed up in El Mirador, but one of the happiest of Thomas’s life. His daughter was everything he’d hoped she’d be. Intelligent, beautiful, caring. And so much like her mother.
His first look at Lorraine had stopped him cold. She resembled Ginny in almost every way. In fact, it was like stepping back and seeing Ginny at nineteen.
The news that his wife was dead was a hard blow, and he’d need time to assimilate it. Time and privacy to mourn. He’d told Raine the truth—he had loved her mother. Yes, she’d hurt him; yes, she’d disillusioned him, but he’d forgiven her. He couldn’t blame her for the tragic turn his life had taken. He just wished things had been different for both of them. Too late now for wishing, though.
His home was a humble one and Thomas hoped Lorraine would understand that the village was poor. The school couldn’t afford to pay him a large salary.
Antonio and Hector were playing in the front yard. Under other circumstances, his sons would have raced toward him, but they were shy boys and unaccustomed to seeing him with strangers. They stopped and stared, Antonio clutching the soccer ball to his chest, as Thomas opened the door for Lorraine.
Azucena was in the kitchen preparing dinner. The scent of garlic drifted through the house. Thomas set Lorraine’s suitcase in the living room and tried to find a way to explain that this very pregnant woman was his common-law wife. Lorraine would probably be surprised, perhaps disapproving, but Azucena was his wife in every sense except the legal. Now that he was free to marry her, he would do so.
Azucena stepped into the room, her smile automatic until she saw Lorraine. Her welcome sobered as she glanced at him, her eyes filled with questions. Azucena spoke little English and showed no desire to learn. Because she made no effort herself, their sons knew only a few English words.
“This is my daughter,” he explained in Spanish. Her eyes widened, and Thomas could see that she was flustered. He’d told her about his family, about Raine, and sensed that she felt threatened. He wanted to reassure her but wasn’t sure how.
“Where’s Jack Keller?” Azucena asked abruptly.
“Back on his boat, I assume. I left him when I learned my daughter was at the school.”
“You knew about your daughter’s visit?” Her beautiful dark eyes were accusing.
“No.” He longed to take Azucena in his arms and apologize, but didn’t dare. “Her mother died last month, and she only recently found out I was alive.”
Azucena nodded, her expression sympathetic. “Introduce me as your housekeeper,” she advised with gentle wisdom. “Your daughter has had more than enough shocks.”
“I won’t lie to her again. It’s better if she knows.”
“We’ll tell her together,” Azucena said. “Later. She’s traveled a long way and must be exhausted.”
He hesitated, then agreed with a short nod.
“Ask her to sit down, and I’ll serve you both dinner.”
“What about you and the boys?” It didn’t seem right not to have them at the table with him. As he’d told Azucena, he didn’t like the idea of lying to Raine, but he could see that his daughter was physically tired and emotionally distraught. He didn’t want to burden her with still another difficult truth. But he also feared her anger. He couldn’t bear to lose her when he’d only just found her again. Although it went against his better judgment, he agreed with Azucena’s reasons to delay telling Raine about their relationship.
“Don’t worry, we’ll eat later,” Azucena insisted.
Thomas noticed Raine listening to the flow of words between them. Her eyes revealed her lack of comprehension. “This woman is someone special?” she asked, eyeing Azucena closely.
“My housekeeper,” he said, silently adding and so much more.
“She’s meticulous,” Raine said, glancing around the sparse but lovingly decorated home. Thomas tried to see the house through her eyes and knew it must be far less than she was accustomed to, but he made no apologies. He’d earned his living by honest means.
“Dinner’s ready if you’d like to eat now. Azucena’s a wonderful cook. She’s made a dish called camarónes con ajo, which is shrimp with garlic.”
“It sounds delicious. Please thank her for me,” Lorraine said.
“I will.” Thomas showed his daughter to the bathroom, where she could wash up.
She returned a few minutes later. The table was set with steaming ceramic bowls filled with rice, tomatoes and the delectable-smelling shrimp.
Lorraine took a seat. “When is…your housekeeper’s baby due?”
“Any day now,” he answered as he passed her the rice, hoping to avoid further questions.
“Those were her children outside?”
Thomas nodded.
“Her name is lovely.”
“It means lily.”
The irony of the situation didn’t escape him. At one time Azucena had, in fact, been his housekeeper. The school had hired her on his behalf, and for six months he’d barely noticed her. His house was kept spotless and his meals cooked every night. Beyond that, he was absorbed by the demands of teaching and enjoying his newfound profession. He’d never intended to take Azucena to his bed. He was married, although no one in El Mirador knew about his American wife. Nor did he wish to indulge in behavior that would be viewed with disfavor by the church-supported school.
To date, the headmaster had never mentioned Thomas’s living arrangements. He’d eaten meals in this house, so he had to know what was going on. Nevertheless he always referred to Azucena as Thomas’s housekeeper. And for those first six months that was exactly what she was. Thomas hadn’t made so much as an untoward gesture, and in the end, Azucena, whose name was regarded as a symbol of purity and perfection, had been the one to seduce him.
The meal was excellent. Azucena had chosen his favorite. He could see that Raine was enjoying it, too.
“She really is a wonderful cook,” Raine said as Azucena carried a plate of hot tortillas to the table.
It was difficult for Thomas to disguise his fondness for his common-law wife. He knew Lorraine had noticed the smile he’d given Azucena and might have commented, but their meal was interrupted by a loud demanding knock on the door. Both women looked at Thomas.
He set his napkin aside and moved across the room, unsure what to expect. The knock was not that of a friend. He knew trouble when he heard it.
Two uniformed policemen stood on the other side of the threshold. He’d rarely seen armed police in this town; not only that, he didn’t recognize either man, which was unusual in itself. He knew almost everyone in El Mirador, if not by name then by sight.
“Can I help you?” Thomas asked, taking care to pronounce each word distinctly and with authority.
“We’re looking for Lorraine Dancy.”
“May I ask what this is about?”
“Dad?” Raine said from behind him. “I heard my name.”
He ignored her, refusing to break eye contact with the two officers. “Why are you looking for my daughter?”
“We