Tomas laughed, but Sophia heard sadness behind it. “You weren’t happy?”
“Maria and Carlos welcomed me like I was family. They were determined that Miguel have a better life. They might have been bitter about being poor, but instead they were just happy.”
“And it isn’t like that in your family?”
He laughed, but it sounded a bit forced. “No.”
Sophia relaxed more in the saddle now, getting used to the shape and feel of it. “After she divorced my father, my mother was always very aware of the distinction of money … and the importance of opportunity. Hence my engagement to Antoine. A lawyer turned politician, full of money and ambition and the promise of power. He was everything she wanted in a son-in-law.” In a flash of clarity, Sophia realized that her mother had wanted for her what she’d never quite had for herself. Sophia blinked, staring over the waving pampas grass, feeling some of her resentment fade as understanding dawned. “Mother just wanted security for me. When we announced our engagement, she was in heaven.”
“And were you? In heaven?”
She thought back to the day she’d started working on Antoine’s campaign staff. “I was dazzled for about thirty seconds. And then I was just practical. Antoine had a lot to offer. And he was charming and connected. He treated me well and I fancied myself in love with him, I suppose. We skated along and after a suitable amount of time he proposed. I would have a good life and he’d have a good wife for the campaign trail.”
“Sounds passionate,” he remarked dryly.
It hadn’t been, and Sophia hoped she wasn’t blushing. In this day and age it seemed unbelievable that in two years of dating and being engaged, she and Antoine had never slept together. Something had always held Sophia back. At the time she’d thought it sensible and cautious, considering how stories exploded through the news about the private lives of public people. Looking back now, though, she wondered if there hadn’t been more to her decision she hadn’t considered, if she hadn’t put Antoine off for a bigger reason that even she hadn’t understood. Looking at Tomas, feeling the thrill that zapped through her at the mere sight of him, she was beginning to see a glimmer of her reason. She’d overlooked an important ingredient—chemistry.
“Not exactly,” she replied, staring out at the waving grasses. She’d blush again if she looked at Tomas. She was twenty-five years old and still a virgin. There was no way on earth she could say that.
“So, he was someone to keep you in shoes and handbags?” He tipped the brim of his hat back a little, his mischievous gaze settling on her face.
“Absolutely. More than that, it was stability.” Something had changed between them. There was no malice in his accusation. She knew he was teasing, and she welcomed it. A teasing Tomas was far preferable to a grouchy one, even if his teasing did hit rather close to home at times. It was easier to take than the stares of disapproval. “Like Carlos and Maria, my mother was poor. My grandmother was a war bride from England and life on a Canadian farm wasn’t all she’d dreamt it would be. She eventually divorced my grandfather. My mother fell into what she called the same trap, and she and my father split up when I was eight. Mom didn’t handle poverty with the grace and humour of your friends, Tomas. She was alone. She was the one who made sure I had the opportunities and schooling and met all the right people.”
Tomas nudged his mount forward, keeping the pace at a steady walk. “So you came here to throw it in your ex’s face.”
Had she? Perhaps in a way, but the trip had been far more about her than it had been about Antoine. “If I had wanted to throw it in his face, I would have gone to the media and given them all the details. It wasn’t necessary. Calling off the wedding was damaging enough. Even without making an official statement, I had reporters in my face. It is big news when a high-profile party member is embroiled in a scandal—even if it’s not quite clear what the scandal is.” She angled him a wry smile and he smiled back.
“You’re tougher than I thought,” Tomas admitted. “Maybe I underestimated you, Sophia Hollingsworth.”
“Maybe you did. But the real reason I came was because I was looking for someone.”
He turned his head towards her again. “Who?”
A lump formed in Sophia’s throat as she gripped the reins. The horse perked up at the feel of her hands through the leather.
“Me,” she replied, and nudged the mare along and down the path leading to the creek.
CHAPTER FOUR
TOMAS followed her, his eyes trained on her back as it swayed gently with the motion of the horse. She had taken the initiative and started down the path before him, rather than follow behind. There was definitely more to Sophia than he thought. More than the designer shoes and air of supremacy she’d put on yesterday, or the panic she’d exhibited this morning during the spider episode. She was not experienced with horses. He’d known it from the start and had wanted to push her, test her. Not in a dangerous sort of way, after all he’d given her Neva, the gentlest mare in the stable. It was his job to gauge someone’s experience and give them a proper mount. But he’d wanted to shake her up a bit. He’d nearly expected protests when she’d seen the gaucho saddle. But she hadn’t said a single word. Just mounted and followed him.
She’d shown some pluck, and he liked that.
Maybe they had more in common than he’d thought. The thought niggled. He didn’t want to find common ground. Maybe they had both felt pushed into a life of appearances. Tomas had lived that way once. For his father, money and status were everything. The biggest mistake of his life was going along with it as long as he had. He was far happier here, at Vista del Cielo.
Sophia just hadn’t found her place yet, but it wasn’t his job to show her. The words of assurance sat on his tongue but he remained silent, knowing that if he offered them to her, it would open him up to more questions. He wasn’t sure where life was going to lead him and he didn’t want to get into it with Sophia. Too many people offered their opinions as it was. As much as he loved it here on the estancia, his family kept asking when he was coming back. It was a question he could not answer. The idea of going back to Buenos Aires and taking his place at Motores Mendoza held little appeal. Lately he’d been feeling disconnected, and it unsettled him. Going back to Buenos Aires and the family business would sever that connection completely, and he couldn’t do it.
“It is beautiful here,” Sophia called from ahead of him. “So open and free.” She reined in a bit so his horse’s head was at her flank. “The big things melt away, don’t they.”
He exhaled slowly. Perhaps she was faking her riding experience, but there was no faking the approval he heard in her voice. “It does tend to put things in perspective,” he replied carefully, pleased that she understood but still on his guard. Somehow the words tethered the two of them together, and that made him uncomfortable. “I have done a lot of thinking riding along this path.” And he had, ever since the first visit when Miguel had brought him home to meet his family.
He’d walked in the door and everything in his world had changed. Everything. He had been greeted warmly. And he had laid eyes on Rosa and it was as though the world stopped turning.
The path grew steeper as they descended to the creek bed. She was being cautious, he noticed, knowing the criollo horses’ nimble feet could more than handle the narrow path. At the bottom the mare gave a little hop and he heard a squeak come from ahead.
He watched the curve of Sophia’s bottom as it swayed with the lazy stride of the mare. This morning he’d been sorely tempted to reach out and pull her into his arms when she’d seen the spider. Her alarm had been real, not put on, and he’d felt oddly protective of her. He shook his head. They would keep the pace slow, that was all.
A little further down the bed was a lee, sheltered from the wind. Tomas and Miguel had come here often to build a fire and share mate. He urged his horse forward