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“I wanted to pay my respects to my mother,” Wolf elaborated. “We bumped into each other at the cemetery. She thought she was seeing a ghost.”
Grateful he hadn’t mentioned that she was at his grave site, she caught the look in his eye that told her he considered them even. And that suited her just fine. Returning her attention to her reason for even approaching him, she repeated, “Would you like something to drink while you look over the menu or are you ready to order?”
He glanced down at the menu. “Coffee to drink and I’ll have the Cowhand’s Special. Scramble the eggs,” he replied.
“Coming up.” Walking away, she saw the rest of the customers casting covert glances in Wolf’s direction. And unlike normal mornings when conversations flooded the place, voices overlapping each other until they were a muddle of noise, this morning conversations were being held softly, confining what was said to the occupants of the individual tables.
As she laid the paper containing Wolf’s order on the high, metal counter of the window between the kitchen and the serving area, Jules motioned her inside. Knowing she was going to have to talk to him sooner or later, she entered the kitchen.
“Who is this Wolf O’Malley?” he demanded in lowered tones, trying to keep an eye on his cooking food while watching for any further activity among the customers. “This is the first real excitement I’ve seen in this town since Norma Alexander caught Rupert Gordon peeping in her bedroom window.”
“He’s Frank O’Malley’s eldest son. Everyone thought he was dead,” Sarita replied. “Now I’ve really got to get back to my customers.”
But before she could make her escape, Gladys entered. “Isn’t this the most exciting thing? Ms. High and Mighty Katherine O’Malley is not going to like it.”
Jules looked confused. “I’d think she would be glad her son was alive.”
“He’s not her son,” Gladys explained. “He’s her stepson. His mother was Willow Bluefeather.”
“An Indian?” Jules asked, his interest increasing.
Gladys nodded. “Full-blooded Cherokee. I don’t remember her well. I do remember that she was very pretty.”
Jules peered harder out the window. “Yes, he does look as if he has Native American blood in him.”
“Willow Bluefeather O’Malley was beautiful and one of the sweetest women in the world,” Sarita said, recalling the kindness Willow had always exhibited toward everyone. “She died of some complication associated with the flu when Wolf was ten. His father married Katherine when he was twelve. He and his stepmother never got along.”
A knowing look came over Gladys’s face. “My Roy has always said Katherine wanted Wolf out of the picture so her own children could inherit everything.” In response to Jules’s raised eyebrow, she added, “Preston O’Malley was her son from a previous marriage. She made sure Frank adopted him so he would be sure to share in the inheritance. Claudia is Frank and Katherine’s child, but I think she only had her to satisfy Frank. Anyone can see that Katherine is partial to Preston. She thinks the sun rises and sets on him.”
Jules nodded his head. “She’s definitely spoiled him.”
Sarita had only been half listening. She’d been recalling how badly Wolf had taken his mother’s passing. In spite of the fact that she and he had never gotten along, she’d felt obliged to seek him out and offer her condolences. He’d growled at her, and she’d never approached him again. And she didn’t like gossiping about him now. She nodded toward the bacon that was fast becoming too crisp to serve. “We’d better get back to our customers, and you’d better get back to your cooking,” she told Jules.
Letting out a cry of dismay, he quickly returned his attention to his stove.
“Looks like life is going to get real interesting around here for a while,” Gladys noted as she and Sarita left the kitchen.
“I suppose interesting is as good a word as any,” Sarita muttered back, doubting Katherine O’Malley would use that same adjective.
Chapter Two
Sarita looked at the clock. It was nearly three. The normal hours for the diner were from 7 a.m. to 2 p.m. Constantly reminding people that he was semiretired, Jules reserved the rest of the day to work on recipes for the cookbook he was creating or pursuing his second passion...golf. Normally the last of their customers cleared out by two-thirty. Today the place was still half-full. And Jules wasn’t helping to ease the customers out, either. He’d closed down the kitchen and come out front, but instead of subtly mentioning that the afternoon was getting late, he was pouring coffee and entering into the various conversations about Wolf’s return from the grave.
The general consensus was that Katherine would be furious and she was a dangerous woman when riled.
“But Wolf O’Malley can be just as dangerous. Even more so,” Vivian Kale said, loud enough for all to hear.
Several others nodded knowingly.
Sarita knew what they were thinking. Her sense of fairness refused to let her remain silent. “There was never any proof those rumors were true.”
“What rumors?” Jules demanded.
“Some people think he pushed Katherine down the stairs when he was fifteen. Broke her arm,” one of the men said.
“The story she told was that she fell on her own,” Sarita reminded them all.
“Yeah, but her telling that tale never rang true to my ears. Could be she said it to keep peace in the family and the police out of it,” Vivian argued. “And, as I recall, Frank shipped Wolf off to that military academy right afterward.”
“Because his highfalutin stepmom had been trying to get rid of Wolf all along. Wouldn’t put it past her to have faked that fall down the stairs.” Charlie entered the fray. He didn’t usually come back for lunch, but Sarita had noted that several who only came for breakfast had come a second time today. And she was grateful Charlie was there. It was only right that Wolf should have at least one customer who would stick up for him.
“Her broken arm was no fake,” Vivian retorted.
“Could be she didn’t plan on breaking it,” Charlie rebutted.
“You’ve never liked Katherine O‘Malley,” Vivian fumed. "You’d take Wolf’s side if you’d seen him doing the deed."
Charlie glared at her. “Wouldn’t lie for no man nor woman.”
“Now, now. Keep your tempers under control,” Jules soothed.
One of the men laughed. “This ain’t nothing compared to what’s probably going on at the O’Malley place right now.”
The rest nodded, almost in unison.
“My money’s on Katherine,” another customer called out from a side table.
“You weren’t around when Wolf came back to town after college,” another spoke up. “Never seen a man so cold or in control.”
“Looks like six years away hasn’t changed him, either,” Vivian said. “When I passed him on the street a little bit ago, he gave me an icy stare that sent chills down my spine.”
Vivian, Sarita noted, was really getting on her nerves. “He’s probably had people staring at him all day. He was just returning tit for tat.”
Vivian snorted. “I don’t know why you’re so intent on defending him. I don’t recall the two of you being such good friends.”
Sarita was surprised herself by the intensity of her desire to defend Wolf. It was very close to a need. “We weren’t, but I don’t think it’s right to sit here and condemn him with unsubstantiated gossip.”
“Bradford Dillion obviously likes him,” Jules pointed out. “I’ve always thought he was a good judge of character.”
“Bradford Dillion was a friend of Wolf’s mother and her family. I don’t think he ever approved of Frank’s marriage to Katherine,” Vivian said.
Sarita found herself fighting the urge to shove a pie into the woman’s face. Shocked that she would consider going to such lengths on Wolf’s behalf, she reminded herself that Vivian had always gotten on her nerves.
“And the fact that Katherine has made it clear she intends to petition the court to have Dillion removed as executor of Frank’s estate and Greg Pike put in his place might have something to do with Dillion’s joy at seeing Wolf. Wolf will fight her tooth and nail to see that his father’s wishes are followed to the letter, especially any that go against hers,” one of the men from the back offered.
“If I were Katherine O’Malley, I’d hire a bodyguard.” Vivian gave her head a violent nod to add emphasis to her words.
Sarita’s patience came within a hair of snapping. “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.” When only Charlie added a grunt of support, it did snap. She glared at the assembly. “Don’t you all have something better to do with your afternoon than sit around and rehash old gossip?”
Jules looked at her worriedly, then a look of apology spread over his face as his gaze swept his customers. “It is past three.”
In a mild flurry of activity, the patrons paid and left.
When he, Gladys and Sarita were alone, Sarita braced herself to be fired. Instead Jules studied her with interest. “I’ve never seen you lose your temper. Is Wolf O’Malley an old flame that hasn’t quite died?”
“I didn’t know you even knew him,” Gladys muttered, also studying Sarita. “The two of you didn’t act like old friends when he was in here this morning.”
“When he was still going to school here, we were in the same class. And, you’re right, we weren’t friends. But I felt someone should stick up for him. It was like a lynch mob in here.” Not wanting to answer any more questions, she looked to Jules and said stiffly, “Now are you going to fire me or shall we get this place cleaned up so we can go home?”
“It’s been a long day. Let’s clean up this place,” he replied.
Both Gladys and Jules allowed her to do her work in peace, but she could feel them covertly looking her way every once in a while and was glad when she was finally on her way home.
The old rambling adobe ranch house she shared with her grandfather was a couple of miles out of town. In bad weather she drove. In good weather she preferred to walk. As she neared the end of the long, dirt driveway, she could see Luis Lopez seated, as usual, in his cane chair on the front porch, whittling. The chair was balanced on the two back legs, and his feet were propped up on the porch railing.
“Abuelo, did you hear the news?” she asked, mounting the porch, then leaning against one of the pillars holding up the roof.
He grinned, causing the deep weather-induced wrinkles of his permanently tanned skin to become even more pronounced. “If you’re talking about Wolf O’Malley returning, I did. I was weeding Mrs. Yager’s flower garden when the young Ballori woman came by to tell her. Seems his reappearance has caused quite a stir.”
Sarita nodded. “This turn of events should stop Greg Pike from pestering us about purchasing this land.”
“You’d think so.” Luis’s grin disappeared. “But it hasn’t. When I came home for lunch, he was on our doorstep with an even bigger offer. He says that since we have the spring on our property, Katherine can still build her spa.”
“Once she gets a notion, she’s like a dog with a bone,” Sarita muttered.
“I’ve been thinking that maybe I should sell.”
Shock registered on Sarita’s face. “You can’t be serious. You love this land.”
“I’m an old man. I’m satisfied with my life. But you...you could take the money to travel, to see the world.”
Sarita saw the worry in his eyes and guessed what was really on his mind. “I like it here. This land is as much a part of me as it is of you. It’s where I belong. And if I want to see the world, I’ve got enough saved up to take a trip.”
“You could go to college.”
They’d had this discussion before, as well. “I don’t want to go to college. I like my life as it is.”
“You have taken the vow you made to your father to watch over me much too seriously. You’ve restricted your opportunities. You work at the café, you come home and work in the garden, you ride your horse, you take care of me. What kind of life is that?”
“Peaceful.” Silently she admitted that there were times when her life seemed to lack fulfillment, but she wasn’t ready to admit that to her grandfather. Both her mother and grandmother had died when she was very young. Her father and grandfather had raised her. When she was in her late teens her father had died, leaving her the only one left to watch over the old man in front of her, and she would not shirk that duty.
“I worry about what will happen to you when I’m gone. I don’t want to see you alone in the world. You should have a husband and a family.”
They’d had this conversation a hundred times before. Her usual response was to say that she would do just fine on her own, that she liked being an independent woman. The words formed on the tip of her tongue, but when she opened her mouth, she heard herself saying, “All right. I’ll admit, I’d like to find a husband and have a family. But I’m not so desperate I’d take your money and go scouring the world or college campuses for one.”
Triumph glistened in his eyes. “You could go stay with my cousin José in Mexico City,” he coaxed. “The last time you were there, you had four proposals.”
“They wanted an American wife so they could come to this country.”
“You don’t have enough faith in yourself. One, maybe two, had that in mind, but not all four. I know for a fact that Greco was in love with you.”
“He got over it fast enough. He was married within two months of the time I left and the father of twins barely nine months later.”
“You rejected him and he was forced to move on with his life.”
“For someone as desperately in love as he claimed, he moved on fairly quickly, don’t you think?” she returned dryly.
Luis’s gaze narrowed on her with purpose. “I want to see you married, with a husband to look after you.”
“I don’t need anyone to look after me.” She gave an impatient snort. “Men! If I was a male you wouldn’t be so anxious about my being married.”
“You’re wrong. I would want you to have a wife to look after you. When the Lord ordered Noah to gather all the animals in pairs, he did it for a reason. The man looks after the woman and the woman looks after the man. Together they make a whole.”
“I feel perfectly whole on my own.”
“Evening,” a male voice drawled, as its owner rounded the corner of the house.
Startled, Sarita gasped.
“Guess I forgot to mention that Wolf is going to be boarding with us,” her grandfather said.
“I was driving by your place to take a look at my property when I saw the Room for Rent sign,” Wolf said, mounting the porch.
Sarita stared at him. “You and me under the same roof?”
“I know we used to get on each other nerves as kids but we’re adults now. I figure we can keep our tempers in check.”
“Sure, no problem.” She knew she’d sound childish if she voiced any doubts, but already the thought of his continued presence was causing an uneasiness within. He’s right, grow up, she ordered herself.
“I told him he could have kitchen privileges as long as he cleans up after himself. And he’s paying extra to have his evening meal provided,” Luis spoke up. “I warned him it wouldn’t be anything fancy. I’ve got a stew cooking for tonight. Figured you could make some corn bread.”
“Corn bread, sure,” she managed levelly.
Wolf nodded his approval. “Stew and corn bread sound great.”
Getting over the shock of seeing him, Sarita began to wonder how much of the conversation between her grandfather and her he’d overheard. Voices traveled on the arid air. Her shoulders stiffened with pride. So what if he knew she was on her way to spinsterhood? Even if he hadn’t overheard, he’d have guessed it soon enough. He knew she was twenty-eight. And it was obvious she wasn’t married. If he stuck around, he’d soon learn she didn’t have any prospects, either. “I’ll go check on the stew.”
After giving the stew a quick stir, Sarita could not keep herself from doing a little eavesdropping at the living room window. Wolf had settled into the chair beside her grandfather on the front porch, and the men were discussing the weather and whether it would be a hard winter or not. Self-mockery spread over her face as she admitted to herself that she’d been afraid they’d been discussing her. You’re the last subject in the world that would interest Wolf O’Malley, her inner voice chided.
Leaving the men on their own, she busied herself in the guest room, making certain it was dusted and fresh linens were on the bed. A single leather satchel lay on the floor, still packed. Staring down at it, she recalled that once during her teenage years she’d found herself unexpectedly attracted to him and visualized him suddenly looking her way, seeing her as appealing and coming to call.
“Now that was a moment of lunacy,” she grumbled to herself. Scowling at the bag, she hoped he would change his mind and seek other quarters.
“There’s nothing in there that will bite.”
Jerking her gaze to the door, she saw Wolf standing there, watching her from behind a shuttered mask. “I was just getting your room into shape,” she managed evenly.
He continued to stand in the doorway, blocking her escape. “If you’re worried that I’ll harm you or your grandfather, I promise you I won’t.”
She frowned in confusion. “That thought never crossed my mind.”
He scowled with disbelief. “I know the stories Kath erine spread about me. Everyone in town thinks I pushed her down those stairs.”
“Not everyone. I never did. And neither did my father or grandfather.”
His expression remained skeptical.
Feeling the need to prove her words, she added, “It’s not that we didn’t think she could have provoked you into it, it’s just that if you had done it, you would have admitted it.”
Bitterness etched itself into his features. “It’s a shame my father didn’t have the same faith in me.”
“From what I’ve heard, Katherine can be very persuasive.”
Purpose replaced the bitterness on his face. “This time she’ll learn that she’s met her match.”
Sarita suddenly was worried for him. She’d seen Katherine in action and knew the woman could be a formidable foe. “Be careful,” she warned.
“I plan to,” Wolf assured her.
She found herself considering offering her aid, should he need it, and recalled the last time she’d tried to befriend him. No sense in embarrassing herself a second time, she decided. “I should get back to the kitchen.” Edging toward the door, she gave him space to move out of her way.
Stepping aside, Wolf let her pass. As she headed down the hall, he watched her. Earlier in the day, Bradford had offered him a room at his place and he’d accepted. But when he’d driven out to the land that had brought him back, he’d passed the Lopez property and seen the Room for Rent sign on their gate. His curiosity still piqued by his early-morning encounter with Sarita at the cemetery, he’d called Bradford and told him that his plans had changed.
He frowned as he started to unpack. Sarita Lopez wasn’t pleased to have him there. That was obvious. So why the visit to his grave? Her explanation that she thought someone should remember him seemed lame considering their history. “Joe always said trying to read a woman’s mind is harder than figuring reasons for God to have created mosquitoes,” Wolf muttered under his breath. “And he’s right.”
His expression turned grim. “Except where my stepmother is concerned.” He understood her very well. She was spoiled and selfish and would use any means to achieve her aims.
He smiled to himself as he put his clothes in the bureau. He’d come prepared to fight for the land that was his. Now there would be no need. Not only did he have the land, but a chunk of his father’s wealth would be his along with a percentage of the family business. And he planned to make his presence felt.
The slamming of a car door caught his attention.
“Where is he?” a familiar female voice demanded.
Wolf strode down the hall, halting a few feet from the front door as Katherine pushed open the screen door and entered. “So you are alive.” Her gaze raked over him. “I was in Houston when Greg called to tell me the news. I had to come see for myself. ”
“Greg Pike?” Wolf spoke in an easy drawl, keeping his posture relaxed as if her presence was of little concern. “Bradford did tell me you’d hired him to be your lawyer. Bradford said you even tried to have him removed as executor of my father’s will and Pike put in his place.”
Fury flashed in Katherine’s eyes. “Bradford Dillion was your father’s lawyer. He has never had my best interests at heart.”
“Bradford Dillion is an honorable man.”
Katherine shrugged as if that meant nothing to her, then her expression turned icy. “I didn’t come here to discuss Bradford Dillion. How much is it going to cost me to get you out of my life?”
“I’m planning on staying. My roots are here.”
Katherine’s cheeks flushed with rage. Issuing a snort of disgust, she pivoted and strode out of the house, ignoring both Sarita standing in the living room doorway and Luis who had risen and followed in Katherine’s wake to the screened door.
“So you’re gonna build yourself a home on Willow’s land?” Luis asked as Katherine’s car sped away.
Wolf shrugged. “Haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet. But there’s no reason for Katherine to know that.”
Sarita eased back into the living room out of view of the men and drew a long, calming breath. She had tensed during the confrontation between Katherine and Wolf, her body readying itself to intercede if Katherine tried to harm him. Shaken by the strength of this unexpected instinct to protect him, she continued into the kitchen and sank into a chair at the table. Get a grip, she told herself. Wolf O’Malley was the last person in the world who needed or wanted her protection.
“I apologize for that scene just now.”
Sarita jerked around to see Wolf crossing to the sink. The kitchen was the largest room in the house and had always seemed spacious to her until this moment. His presence suddenly made it seem small and crowded. Not wanting him to guess he was the reason she was so shaken, she said, “Your stepmother has always scared me a little.”
“She’s always scared me, too,” he admitted with a crooked grin.
The unexpected boyishness on his face caused a curious curl within her.
“Glasses?” He motioned toward the cabinets.
“The one to your right.” Remembering her manners, she added quickly, “Would you like some iced tea or soda?”
“Just water.” Running a glassful, he drank half, then leaning against the counter, studied her thoughtfully. “The way I remember it, you and I didn’t get along very well from day one.”
Her gaze rested on his well-worn boots as her mind flashed back to their childhood. About a mile and a half farther down the road that ran in front of her grandfather’s home, Frank O‘Malley had built Willow O’Malley stables and corrals on the property that had been Willow’s dowry so that she could keep horses and ride her land when she pleased. Even before he could walk, Willow would bring her son out to ride with her.
Frank O’Malley had hired Luis to caretake the stables and corrals and tend the horses. When Sarita was barely five, Luis began taking her along with him, thus hers and Wolf’s paths had crossed very early. She raised her gaze to his face. “You were always trying to boss me around.”
“You were always doing something that could get you hurt.”
The same reproving tone he’d used when they were both seven years old laced his words and, as they had those many years ago, her eyes flashed with defiance. “We had a couple of horses, and I had my own pony. My grandfather had taught me all about taking care of them. I knew what I was doing.”
Wolf remembered the small, dark-haired girl who had glared at him just as the woman she had become was glaring at him now. “Guess we still know how to get on each other’s nerves.”
“Seems that way,” she admitted.
Another memory of their distant past returned. “You still owe me a thank-you,” he said.