Dario shaded his eyes.

For a split second he thought he was hallucinating as the bright sunshine reflected off the flame-red hair of a woman climbing down from the back of his sister's horse. He went hot, then cold, and felt his tongue tangle with his teeth, impeding his ability to speak as he gaped at the lovely apparition walking toward him, her full skirt appealingly kicked up by the wind. Never had he expected to see Delaney Blair again. Certainly not at his ranch, and especially not in the company of his half-sister, Maria Sofia, who studied him with a wicked, mischievous smile.

Forcing back his initial surge of joy, Dario deliberately turned his back again. “Maria Sofia, escort our uninvited guest the hell out of here and off our property.”

The last response Delaney expected from Dario if ever they met up was that he'd totally and completely reject her in such a cavalier manner.

But then his sister spoke. “Honestly, you need to spare a minute and hear what this particular guest traveled so far to tell you.”

Texas Mom

Roz Denny Fox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ROZ DENNY FOX’S first book was published by Mills & Boon in 1990. She writes for various Mills & Boon® lines and for special projects. Her books are published worldwide and in a number of languages. She's also written articles as well as online serials. Roz's warm home-and-family-focused love stories have been nominated for various industry awards, including the Romance Writers of America's RITA® Award, the Holt Medallion, the Golden Quill and others. Roz has been a member of the Romance Writers of America since 1987, and is currently a member of Tucson's Saguaro Romance Writers, where she has received the Barbara Award for outstanding chapter service. She's also a member of the Desert Rose RWA chapter in Phoenix, Midwest Fiction Writers of Minneapolis, San Angelo Texas Writers’ Club and Novelists, Inc. In 2013 Roz received her fifty-book pin from Mills & Boon.

Readers can e-mail her through Facebook or at rdfox@cox.net.

This book is dedicated to all the devoted research teams who work tirelessly to find cures for the many forms of cancer that continue to plague us.

Time and dollars are making inroads.

I'm grateful for those who work in, march for and donate to the cause.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Delaney Blair stood at the window in the hospital conference room. Lightning flashed as raindrops battered the glass. The summer storm sweeping through Lubbock matched her mood. Two of her son’s doctors sat at the table she’d vacated. They’d been discussing Nickolas’s prognosis, and it wasn’t good.

Neal Avery, the pediatric oncologist who’d cared for Nickolas throughout his first illness, interrupted her chaotic thoughts. “Delaney, we’ve explored every avenue available to Nick at the moment. There simply are no marrow donor matches in the national donor bank. Nor have any emerged from the collection drives you and your friends ran.”

Delaney rubbed at goose bumps on her arms and hunched her shoulders against the harsh reality of Dr. Avery’s words.

Konrad Von Claus, a visiting pediatric oncologist and immunologist, chimed in. “I’ve gone over all of Nickolas’s records from the leukemia he fought when he was eighteen months old. Like Dr. Avery and the others who treated him, I found no reason to suspect his remission wouldn’t last. Regrettably, patients who fall out of remission require more aggressive measures.” Switching gears, he said, “It’s a fact ethnic minorities have difficulties finding matches. One reason is due to migration. Blood markers are inherited. Some families don’t migrate together. And many people are from blended cultures. What about Nickolas’s father, Ms. Blair? I don’t see anyone named Sanchez listed among the people from your area donor drive.”

Delaney turned from the window. “Dario Sanchez isn’t relevant, Dr. Von Claus. He isn’t now, and never has been in Nick’s life. Dario lives in Argentina.”

The visiting physician locked eyes with Delaney. “Hmm. I’d say he was a very crucial part of your son’s life once, wouldn’t you? We must face facts,” he said a little more gently. “Among ten million people signed up to be bone marrow donors, less than ten percent are Latino. To complicate matters, Argentines are often of European descent. Their bloodlines are Spanish or Italian, but some have a mix of English, German, mestizo or indigenous. That essentially means Nick’s chance for finding a match outside his family is well below the norm. We already know that you’re not a match. For Nick’s sake, you should ask his father and family to be tested.”

Mouth twisted to one side, Delaney shook her head until her red curls danced. “I haven’t seen Dario in over five years. Nick is four and a half...” She broke off and said, “Dario doesn’t know he has a son. We met when my father, rest his soul, bought eight bulls from Estancia Sanchez. To make a long story short, my father died suddenly, the bank foreclosed on our ranch and forced Dario’s family to take back their very expensive bulls and...the truth is he didn’t care about me.” Delaney’s voice faltered again because the doctor didn’t lower or soften his gaze. She threw up her hands. “You’re right. This isn’t about me or my feelings toward a man who promised to keep in touch but didn’t. This is about saving Nick’s life. I’d walk to hell and back for my son. I’ll see if I can find a phone number for the estancia online.”

Von Claus closed the medical chart and turned to his colleague. “You should go there and speak to Mr. Sanchez. Don’t you agree, Neal? Facing someone makes it harder for them to decline. A phone call may make it too easy for a man you haven’t spoken to in years, one unaware he’s a dad, to simply cut you off.”

Dr. Avery left his chair and took Delaney’s icy hands. “Dr. Von Claus is right. Time isn’t on our side. No man with half a backbone would refuse to help his own child. You need to see him and explain the whole problem. I know a trip will be costly, but I agree a physical meeting offers the best chance you and Nick have. You might also be able to obtain blood samples from his other relatives while you’re there.”

Delaney squared her shoulders. “The good people of La Mesa recently set up a fund for Nick and me. I could use that money to fly to Buenos Aires. But is it okay for me to leave Nick?”

Both doctors nodded. Neal Avery said, “Nickolas is here where he’s getting the best care possible for his spiraling condition until a spot opens for him in Dr. Von Claus’s study in San Antonio. We can arrange for Mr. Sanchez and his family to be tested at a hospital in Buenos Aires. Of course, if any of them are a match, that person will need to travel here for the harvest procedure.”

“It makes no sense that I’m not the best match,” Delaney said bitterly. “After all, I’m Nick’s mother. It seems crazy to think strangers may provide what I can’t. I carried him in my body for nine months.” She fisted a hand against her belly for emphasis.

“I know,” Dr. Avery sympathized.

“It is the best decision.” Dr. Von Claus scooped up the thick folder. “It’s good Dr. Avery suggested Nickolas for my study. There’s much we have to learn about body cells relative to blood cancers. I’ve had cases where neither parent was a match, and yet we found a donor miles away with near perfect markers. If only storing a newborn’s cord blood was a common practice, we wouldn’t need this needle-in-a-haystack search.”

“True. But who thinks when their baby is born, the picture of health, that any of this could happen? At the time, storing his cord blood seemed a needless expense. I hadn’t built my practice yet, and I wasn’t sure I could manage a baby and the long hours required to be a large animal veterinarian. Playing the if-only game won’t make facing Nickolas’s father easier.”

“But you will go?”

“Yes,” she said. The doctors said their goodbyes, and she turned back to stare out the window. Another flash of lightning cut jaggedly through an ugly sky. She stayed for an extra minute to settle her churning stomach before going to explain to Nick that she had to leave for a few days.

She finally headed to his room, trying not to worry about what she’d do if Dario refused to see her—or talk to her. And he might. She had fallen passionately in love with the dark-eyed, dark-haired Argentinian the summer after she’d aced her board exams and had been free of school for the first time in years. Back then, everything had been brighter, happier as she’d arrived home a brand-new vet. Dario and his crew had been in town delivering bulls and trying to make other contacts in Texas. If he hadn’t disappeared a few weeks before her father’s untimely death, their relationship might have been more than an eventful summer fling.

Too bad she had let her heart get involved.

Oh, what good did it do now to plow up old ground? She couldn’t erase Dario from her mind even if she wanted to. Obviously the same wasn’t true for him. He’d promised to keep in touch, then didn’t. She was reminded of him daily, every time she looked at Nick. She only hoped Dario remembered her. It could be a death sentence for Nickolas if she was that forgettable.

Shaking off the gloom, she tiptoed into Nick’s room on the pediatric cancer ward. His roommate had been discharged. The boy had been older, about seven, but the kids had been friendly. Today Nick looked small and alone in the too-big sterile room filled with monitors and medical trappings.

Breathing deep, Delaney bent over him and finger-combed the mop of dark curls off his pale forehead. His long lashes swept up, and he reached for her hand. “Mommy, where’ve you been?”

“Talking to Dr. Avery. Did you have a good lunch?”

Nick nodded. “But when can I go home? You and Miz Irene cook better,” he said, referring to his longtime babysitter. “Here they always bring me bouncy red Jell-O.” He crinkled his nose in a manner that acutely reminded Delaney of his father.

After Dario’s disappearance, she’d made the choice to carry on alone. She had vowed her child would be a Blair. But when her beautiful baby boy was born with more of Dayo’s features than hers, she’d made Blair his middle name and put Dario Sanchez as his father on his birth certificate. Her son didn’t deserve to grow up with a blank spot in place of a dad. And mercy, weren’t those Dario’s big dark eyes imploring her now as she sat in the chair and leaned over to kiss Nick’s lightly freckled nose, one of the few features he shared with her?

“Listen, my little cowboy, Mommy has to go out of town for a few days. You have to stay here so Dr. Avery can chase away that old fever that’s made you feel so yucky.”

His eyes glazed with tears, and he gripped her hand more tightly. “I don’t like being here alone. Will Josh be back?”

Delaney stroked his hand. “Josh went home. I’ll ask Nurse Pam if you’ll be getting a new roommate soon. Okay?”

“Maybe Miz Irene can come be here while you’re gone, like she does at our house.”

“I wish she could, Nick. Unfortunately this hospital is too far away, and Irene still has to take care of Sara Beth so her mom can work. Dr. Avery needs you here, because they have the best medicine to make you better.”

“I don’t feel better. I’m real tired.” He yawned as if to prove it.

“You take a nap, then. I don’t have to go anywhere yet.”

“When I wake up can I play a game on your ’puter?”

“You bet.” Delaney dug his favorite stuffed cow out from under his covers and tucked his arm around it. The toy had been given to him by Zoey Bannerman, the teenage daughter of a rancher Delaney worked for. Zoey’s dad and stepmom had been so supportive throughout this latest ordeal of Nick’s. All of the ranchers and townspeople in and around La Mesa, Texas had. Two neighboring vets were taking caring of her clients. The only thing the community hadn’t been able to do was round up a bone marrow donor for Nick. And they’d tried.

She noticed his eyes had drifted closed and his fingers relaxed their hold on hers. She leaned back in the chair where she’d spent far too many hours. Firing up her laptop, she searched online for Estancia Sanchez. She hadn’t visited their site in a while. Her palms began to sweat. Before, she’d been too busy making a living and building a home for her and Nick to spy on Dario—and that’s what it felt like. Then their lives had been turned upside down when, at age one and a half, Nick had been diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia. Living with dread, she’d juggled her work around doctor visits and treatments. The day Nick had been pronounced in remission gave the entire community reason to celebrate. And their lives were good until a few months ago when his fevers and unexplained leg aches had come back with a vengeance.

Delaney wasn’t surprised to see a huge array of bulls on the Sanchez website. Bulls were, after all, the family business. The family sold them for stud and as trained bucking animals for rodeos. Her father, once head of the Southern Area Cattlemen’s Association, had become a rodeo stockman. Some of his friends claimed he’d done so because of the prolonged drought—one of many things he hadn’t bothered to discuss with her.

Wiping away tears, she scrolled through the website. The Spanish-style Sanchez compound looked beautiful. According to the information, the owner was Arturo Sanchez and his sons Vicente, Dario and Lorenzo. So Dario hadn’t left the family business, although there was no indication how recently the website had been updated.

Closing the browser tab showing an image of grass-covered knolls dotted with grazing bulls, Delaney moved on to book a round-trip airline ticket leaving Texas the next morning. She also booked a moderately priced hotel in Buenos Aires. The total put a serious amount on a credit card she saved for emergencies. But this was an emergency, she thought, her heart melting as she gazed at her sleeping son.

She’d closed her laptop when staff wheeled a new patient into Nick’s room. Delaney spoke quietly with his mother. Henry Nakamura, nearer Nick’s age, also needed marrow and had fewer possible matches in the national donor bank than did Nick. Delaney promised herself that when they got through this and Nickolas was on the mend, she would devote her spare time to educating people, especially those of mixed race, of the dire need to be tested, hopefully to improve the terrible statistics.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING she stopped to see Nick before heading to the airport. Parting from him took a toll on her heart.

“We’ll spend extra time with him while you’re gone,” Nick’s favorite nurse assured Delaney. “You just concentrate on what you have to do to get our little cowboy a donor.”

Tears clogged Delaney’s throat. All she could do was nod and swallow hard during her final wave to Nick. Pulling herself together, she dredged up a smile. “I’ll phone you every day,” she managed to remind him, pointing to the prepaid cell phone she’d brought him.

“’Kay, Mommy.”

His breakfast arrived. Luckily for Delaney, her last glimpse of him showed him chatting with Henry about food.

Delaney couldn’t relax on the cab ride to the airport or after she checked in. She’d brought veterinary journals to read on the long journey, but once the plane took off, her mind kept wandering. She continually reworded what she would say to Dario when she saw him.

Over eleven hours later when the flight attendant told everyone to prepare for descent into Buenos Aires, a major worry suddenly hit Delaney: What if Dario was out of the country delivering bulls? Oh, why hadn’t she phoned Dario? That had been her first inclination.

Dawn was breaking. She rented a small SUV and checked into her hotel. She had managed scant little sleep on the flight. And yet, because she was anxious to put the meeting behind her and get back to Nickolas, she decided to sponge off, change and drive straight to the estancia.

Though it was fall in Texas, it was spring here in Argentina, on the other side of the equator. Most of the clothes she had taken to Lubbock were for cooler weather. Pride, though, had her opting for the one sundress she’d packed. Grabbing a cardigan, she made a face at the drawn woman in the mirror. There was nothing she could do about the plethora of freckles she’d never liked, or the dark circles under her eyes.

Delaney stopped at the front desk to ask a clerk for directions to Estancia Sanchez. She had only the address from the website.

Taking out a map and pen, the clerk drew a line that meandered through the city and out into what looked to Delaney like countryside. “I didn’t realize the ranch was so far from the hotel,” she murmured.

“It’s actually nearer San Rafael. Depending on traffic, you should reach the estate in a couple of hours. It’s a beautiful drive. Estancia Sanchez is muy bonito. The owners are well respected,” the clerk said.

“Oh, do you know the family?” Delaney asked.

“I know of them. Many people mourned a few years ago when the patriarch was badly injured in a car accident that killed his wife. His second wife,” she added after glancing around and lowering her voice.

Delaney blanched. “I...oh, I had no idea.”

The clerk broke off speaking as she reached for a phone that had started ringing.

Mouthing a thank-you, Delaney clutched the map and hurried to her vehicle. As she wound through narrow city streets, the clerk’s words loomed in her thoughts. She didn’t want to feel sympathy for Dario. After all, her own father had died soon after Dario so callously ran out on her. Still, she spared a twinge of sorrow for him and his family. During their whirlwind romance, Dario had admitted that he hoped to leave the family bull trade. He had a university degree in environmental science and wanted to find a job in that field. She remembered his interest in the Texas weather patterns and water, or the prolonged lack thereof. He had been particularly passionate about the world’s water shortage. But what he did with his life was no concern of hers. Water shortages, droughts and Dario Sanchez paled in comparison to Nick’s problems. Her only reason for being here, for seeking out Dario, was to convince him to be tested for bone marrow compatibility with a son he had no idea he’d fathered.

Brother! Doing her best to focus on the gently rolling hills lush with spring grass instead, she at last rounded a bend that opened up to the grand vista the hotel clerk had mentioned. There she saw a wrought-iron arch proclaiming the compound beyond to be the Estancia Sanchez.

After she drove beneath the arch, Delaney realized that the entire estate was behind high, thick sand-colored adobe walls. She parked outside massive double wooden gates flanked by huge, intricately crafted carriage lamps. Alighting from her vehicle, she discovered the gates were locked tight. Noticing an intercom, she pressed a button. Nothing happened at first, then she heard the device crackle to life, and a man’s deep voice growled something in Spanish.

Swallowing back a lump of anxiety, Delaney rose on her toes to speak directly into the box. “I’d like to see Dario. We met on one of his trips to Texas,” she said lamely.

“It’s Vicente speaking,” he said. “Who are you? Please, state your business.”

“I...uh...my name is Delaney Blair.” She wasn’t prepared for the vitriol spewed back at her in heavily accented English.

“You have some nerve coming here after all of the trouble you and your father caused my family during a time of crisis. You are not welcome. I suggest you leave now.”

“What do you mean? I didn’t cause trouble.”

The intercom sputtered again, but the light blinked out.

“No, wait. You don’t understand. I have to speak with Dario.” Panic-stricken, Delaney pressed the button repeatedly, but to no avail. She doubled a fist and hit the intercom, but it really didn’t help erase her frustration. Darn it, she had come too far to be thwarted by one of Dario’s brothers. Vicente was obviously under some mistaken impression. Dario had left Texas by the time her own life had dissolved in a major crisis. And it was her father’s lawyer and the bank who’d returned those bulls.

She stalked back to the SUV and glanced up and down the long wall. She could see the tops of some lacy trees inside. A colorful bird landed on a branch, trilling happily. The normalcy of that eased Delaney’s fast-beating heart. Used to solving problems that arose in her life and vet practice, she wracked her brain for a solution. She eyed the wall, the trees and her SUV, and came up with a plan.

She backed the rental vehicle up to the wall opposite the tree and got out. Wishing she’d worn jeans rather than this silly sundress, she removed the cardigan and slipped off her sandals. Buckling her sandals to her belt, she boosted herself onto the hood and then up to the roof of the SUV. From there, she leaped to the top of the wall where she balanced precariously on her belly.

Taking a few moments to gather her breath and strength to propel herself into the tree branches, she caught the sound behind her of a rapidly approaching horse. Busted, Delaney teetered unsteadily as she swung around to see who had interrupted her breaking and entering. To her shock it was a pretty blonde woman seated atop a spirited palomino mare that danced and kicked up dust around the SUV.

“What are you doing?” The rider brought her mount right up to where Delaney dangled. “I’m Maria Sofia Sanchez,” the young rider said, sounding imperious and oddly more British than Spanish. “You are headed for big trouble attempting to illegally enter my family’s hacienda.”

Tired, but determined to not look pitiful in front of any of Dario’s relatives, Delaney dropped back to the roof of the SUV and wiped her hands on her dress. She looked down at the rider. The slender girl was as fair as Dario was dark. She wore gold hoop earrings nestled beneath a windblown mop of blond curls. Her boots and the mare’s trappings screamed high-end. And the way she sat on her horse gave her the look of a reigning princess. But maybe she was approachable.

Delaney weighed her words carefully. “I buzzed the intercom to ask for Dario, but Vicente refused to open the gate. By the way, your horse is beautiful.” Leaning down, Delaney stroked the palomino’s velvety nose.

The rider said nothing, but she also rubbed her mount’s golden neck.

Unhooking her shoes from her belt, Delaney slipped them on. “I’m Delaney Blair. It’s been five years since I met Dario in Texas. I should have phoned before coming here, I suppose. But I wanted to surprise him.”

“Oh, he’ll be surprised all right. You’re the American who broke my brother’s heart and caused a huge rift in my family.”

Laughing nervously, Delaney sat on her skirt and scooted to the front of the vehicle where she could more easily reach the ground. “I hardly broke his heart. He took off, never to be heard from again, and left mine in tatters.”

The flash of sympathy in the horsewoman’s chocolate-brown eyes made Delaney sigh and fess up. “Unfortunately Dario didn’t only leave behind a broken-hearted woman, but a son who isn’t well. Nickolas is why I’m here. He’s what I need to talk to Dario about.” It was clear to Delaney as she jumped to the ground that she had sent shock waves through the horsewoman.

“Did you tell Vicente that?” the girl demanded.

“No. He didn’t give me a chance.” Delaney slumped against the side of her vehicle.

“This is something Dayo needs to know,” the girl said, shortening her grip on the skittish horse. “If you climb up behind me, I will take you to see him. He’s out on the property. He has a crew banding a new crop of young bulls.”

The offer was a gift. Delaney stepped on the SUV’s running board, and, hiking up her sundress, she landed squarely on the palomino’s broad hindquarters. No stranger to horses or riding, she gripped the ornately carved saddle cantle. Her host somehow managed to remotely open the heretofore locked gate.

“I’m ready,” Delaney announced, and was glad she had a good hold, because Maria Sofia sent them rocketing into the walled compound.

The grounds were quite beautiful from what Delaney could see, with a profusion of flowers blooming around the sprawling home. She was then whisked toward rolling, grassy hills dotted with grazing bulls. Every so often the horse startled coveys of quail, which called out and darted across the hard-packed earth.

Settling the mare into a trot, the girl finally glanced back at Delaney. “You acted surprised to meet me. I wish I could see Texas. I guess there’s no reason you’d know I’m the youngest Sanchez. I’ve only been home two weeks from schooling in London. I recently completed my lessons there,” she added giving a shrug. “I’d rather have studied here instead of boarding, but Our Lady of Fatima was my mother’s alma mater. Papa insisted I attend the same Catholic girls’ school.”

So that’s why Maria Sofia spoke with a British accent. Delaney absorbed the girl’s words. Dario’s sister had unwittingly added another stumbling block Delaney hadn’t considered before—Delaney was Protestant and Dario was Catholic. As if she needed another thing to stress about.

They were approaching a corral. Peering around Maria Sofia, Delaney saw a few men wrestling a young bull through a narrow chute. When the palomino pulled up short and crow-hopped to one side, Delaney got her first glimpse of Dario. Her heart rate shot up as she remembered—the very first time she’d seen him in Texas had also been from behind. He was just as gorgeous today. His mile-wide shoulders tapered to a skinny butt encased in low-slung, well-worn denim. He had a lazy way of walking toward a bull that defied description. Delaney felt her mouth go dry as her brain exploded in a...wow! There was no doubt but that Dario Sanchez was even more striking at thirty-one than he’d been at twenty-six.

Maria Sofia called out, “Dayo, stop what you’re doing. I’ve brought you a visitor.”

* * *

DARIO DIDN’T TURN at once. Instead, he calmly shot a tag through the ear of an unhappy bull that bellowed and kicked at him. As two helpers dragged the bull out of the corral through a side gate, Dario spun and aimed an irritated look at his little sister for disrupting his work.

The whole family had expected Maria Sofia’s tomboy ways to be curtailed at her regimented girls’ school. Obviously that hadn’t gone as planned. Staring into the sun, Dario paused to blot sweat from his forehead with the back of one leather glove. “Look, Maria Sofia,” he yelled, “how many times have we all told you not to ride wildly into a corral where we’re working with bulls?” he said in a mix of English and Spanish.

“You’re bringing in one bull at a time,” she pointed out sweetly. “And this time I have good reason for making you take a break. Come, say hello to someone you haven’t seen in quite a while.” Reining her horse around, the girl directed her passenger to swing off the mare.

Dario shaded his eyes. For a split second he thought he was hallucinating as the bright sunshine reflected off the flame-red hair of a woman climbing down from the back of his sister’s horse. He went hot, then cold, and felt his tongue tangle with his teeth, impeding his ability to speak as he gaped at the lovely apparition walking toward him, her full skirt appealingly kicked up by the wind. Never had he expected to see Delaney Blair again. Certainly not at the estancia, and especially not in the company of his half sister who studied him with a wicked, mischievous smile.

Forcing back his initial surge of joy, Dario deliberately turned his back again. “Julio, bring in another bull. Maria Sofia, please, escort our uninvited guest the hell out of here and off our property.”

Chapter Two

The last response Delaney had expected from Dario if ever they met again was that he’d totally and completely reject her in such a cavalier manner. She numbly registered Maria Sofia recklessly propelling the horse between Dario and the chute where two wiry men were dragging in another bellowing bull. Through her misery, Delaney saw the girl garner Dario’s attention.

“Honestly, you need to spare a minute and hear what Ms. Blair traveled so far to tell you.”

Reaching up, Dario grasped the mare’s soft leather hackamore, a bitless bridle favored by vaqueros to train horses. His sister had no fear and ignored most boundaries—it didn’t matter how many times he and his brothers lectured Maria Sofia about the dangers for a slip of a girl breaking a range horse that stood fifteen hands high. Her mother, Dario’s stepmother, had died in the accident that had maimed their father. From the moment she’d returned home from finishing school, she’d expected the predominantly male household to be lenient, Dario thought; even now she was openly challenging him.

He knew he shouldn’t let his sister manipulate him, but he gave in to curiosity. What possible reason could bring Delaney Blair to see him? Driven still by an anger he couldn’t explain for a woman he’d never been able to forget, who haunted his dreams, Dario strode up to Delaney and asked curtly, “Okay, so what do you want?”

“For us to be civil, or is that too much to ask?” Delaney wanted to lash out at Dario but knew she shouldn’t. An outburst would likely ruin her chance that he’d agree to be tested. She hated being reduced to dirt by his flint-hard eyes.

“It may be too much to ask,” he ground out. “Especially since I doubt you’ve just happened to drop by to catch up for old time’s sake.”

Their sharp exchange had drawn the attention of the men who’d apparently decided to hold back the next bull. Changing tack, Delaney softened her tone. “I’m sorry I popped in on you without warning. I expected you’d be surprised, not hostile. Be that as it may, can we have a word alone?” She flashed a hesitant look at their audience.

Dario’s first inclination was to refuse. But after glancing around, he saw how the others in the corral focused on them. Even Maria Sofia had dismounted and leaned toward them. Motioning for Delaney to follow, he turned and they walked toward the far fence.

Swallowing, Delaney whispered his name, her voice catching at the end.

“Just spit it out, Delaney.”

She hesitated again, then quickened her step to come up beside him. He’d set a booted foot on the lowest rung of the wood-railed corral, flagrantly male and heart-stoppingly good-looking. The confident, sexy stance reminded her of their brief but passionate affair and drove Delaney’s carefully crafted speech away. She couldn’t control her thoughts. “You left me pregnant,” she said and watched his body stiffen and his foot slip off the rail with a thud. She wanted to snatch back her words. Instead, she continued. “It’s true. After you left Texas, I gave birth to your son. His name is Nickolas. Right now he’s in a Lubbock hospital battling leukemia for the second time in his life.”

Dario balled and un-balled his hands, yet said nothing, so Delaney talked faster, explaining how Nick had blessedly gone into remission after weeks of treatments during his first brush with the illness. “I assumed he was cured. Everyone did. But two months ago his fevers came back. He needs a bone marrow transplant. In a quirk of fate, I’m not a match. Nor is anyone currently in the national bone marrow registry. All of my friends and many of the people I work with as a vet have been tested. The problem is that kids with mixed blood present special difficulties. We need someone of Hispanic descent, and we’ve signed up and tested as many people as we can. I brought a packet of information if you’d like to study it. Or, you can go online.” Delaney pursed her lips, wishing he would say something. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but Nick’s doctors say he’s out of options.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say to the stone-faced man staring so coldly at her that Nickolas might die without a match. Wishing she didn’t feel so desperate, she wound down, continuing, “I’m here to ask you...beg you to be tested. The doctors in Texas can arrange for you to have blood drawn in Buenos Aires. You’d only need to fly to Texas if you are a match. Even though I don’t have the necessary blood markers, Nick’s doctors think you or someone in your family might.”

“This is all bullshit, Delaney. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull.” He threw up a hand. “We only had one night together. But something I am sure of, I used protection that night. So your kid’s not mine,” he said, slapping his hand against his chest.

“I don’t know what went wrong with our protection, but something did. You know very well you were my first, Dario. And there’s been no one since. Not since you left me without a word.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why I left. Your dad made it very clear when he caught me sneaking downstairs from your room at dawn. He ordered me to leave the ranch and to never contact you again, and he threatened to see that Estancia Sanchez never sold another bull to the Southwestern rodeo stockmen. Which he did anyway, by spreading lies about our bulls being diseased. We had a hell of a time regaining our reputation.”

She stopped a moment. “Wh-what do you mean my dad ordered you to not contact me again, and held sway over stock contractors?” She drew back, narrowing her eyes.

“He said he’d spent a fortune on your education and you weren’t going to throw away his dream of you being a veterinarian on some oversexed foreigner. He followed me as I rounded up my crew, making sure we left the ranch. He swore if I tried to reach you, Estancia Sanchez would never sell another bull in Texas or surrounding states. That’s the bulk of our US business. I held up my end of the bargain, but he did all he could to ruin us. On top of that, we had to eat the cost of transporting home eight expensive bulls at a terrible time for my family. It’s only recently that Vicente was able to get anyone from the Southern rodeo circuit to consider our animals. If you don’t believe me, ask your father.”

Delaney massaged the suddenly icy skin of her upper arms. “I can’t ask him. The week after you left, he was out on the range, miles from the house, and his appendix ruptured. A neighbor saw buzzards circling late in the day and rode over to investigate. He found my dad on the ground, his horse watching over him. The medical examiner said gangrene had poured through Dad’s bloodstream, killing him. The weeks that followed were the worst of my life. For one thing, I had no idea he’d mortgaged the ranch to pay for my schooling. The banker said that rather than sell off land, Dad floated a second lien to buy the bulls. I didn’t even know Dad had become involved as a rodeo stockman. The bank ordered the bulls to be returned to you, not my dad. I had no home, no father and no practice to go with my new doctorate when what I thought was the flu turned out to be morning sickness.”

Dario’s eyes widened. “If what you say is true, Delaney, I’m sorry.”

“It is true. Every word,” she said huffily.

“But why didn’t you get hold of me then? Why wait so long?”

“My God, Dario, you had dropped out of my life. A woman has her pride.”

“You wait years, then spring this kind of news on me? Bah! So, who spread the word to other stockmen that our bulls were flawed?”

“I’ve no clue. Maybe my dad didn’t trust us, and called people anyway. He could see how badly I wanted to hear from you.” Delaney’s voice gave out.

Dario threw up his hands. “I tell you what, Delaney. Bring the boy to Buenos Aires. I’ll arrange for our family physician to do DNA testing. If that proves my paternity, I’ll undergo the other tests you want me to take.”

Gazing into his unyielding eyes, Delaney didn’t know where the kind, playful man she’d fallen in love with had gone. He could send off a swab to be tested. “You’re an ass, Dario Sanchez. Nickolas is too sick to travel.” Blinking back tears of frustration, she caught the eye of Dario’s sister who had ridden closer, and she beckoned to the girl. “If Maria Sofia will take me back to where I left my rental vehicle, I’ll go home and do all I can to increase the circle of potential donors. I’ll cast a wider net in the Texas Latino community.”

He met her glare for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the bull pens.

Maria Sofia barged between them on her horse. “Dayo, go to Texas to have the tests. I’ll go with you. I’m bored here at the estancia,” she said, tossing her long golden curls over one shoulder. “You all refuse to let me help with the business. While you’re at the hospital, I’ll explore Texas. We had a visiting professor from there, and I’d love to see the state. But Papa will never let me go unescorted.”

“Stay out of this, Maria Sofia.” Dario’s exasperation was evident. He ran both hands over his hair. He began to speak, excluding Delaney as if she wasn’t standing there. “Take Dr. Blair back to where you found her and get a phone number where she can be reached tonight. When I decide on a course of action, if any, someone will contact her.” He turned and walked away, dismissing Delaney completely as he called to the men lounging around the chute. “Bring in the next bull for tagging. Ahora mismo!”

Delaney’s heart sank lower. She’d failed Nickolas. She didn’t believe Dario would go through with the tests, but what more could she have said? Maybe she should have begged harder. Somehow she doubted if even crawling on her hands and knees to Dario would have made a dent. “He’s angry at me for things I had no part in doing,” Delaney said.

Maria Sofia stared after her brother. “This is so not like Dayo. Of all my brothers, he’s always the most thoughtful and reasonable. Maybe he needs time. You shocked him,” Maria Sofia said, gathering the reins and mounting her horse. She kicked out of one stirrup and offered her hand to Delaney to help her to swing up behind again.

“I suppose. I’m not sure how I would react if our positions were reversed,” Delaney said, wanting to look back as the girl clucked to the palomino and they trotted off. But she didn’t. Instead she wondered whether her father had gone to the lengths Dario claimed. Perhaps. He’d raised her alone from the age of three after her mother had drowned. She and Dario had loss in common. He’d told her his mother had died of a pulmonary embolism shortly after his youngest brother was born. And now his stepmother—killed in a car accident. They’d all suffered. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing Nickolas.

* * *

IGNORING THE PAWING, snorting bull his two helpers dragged toward him, Dario tracked the retreating women. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d acted. He should call them back. Too late. Distracted by the amount of leg Delaney was showing, he’d let them get too great a head start.

The bull lashed out, one of his back hooves grazing Dario’s thigh. The handlers wrestled the animal into submission long enough for Dario to clip a brand pin through the bull’s ear. The men rattled off apologies, asking Dario in Spanish if he needed to have his leg looked at.

He shook his head. In spite of limping, he motioned for them to bring in the next bull. As he waited for them, his mind wandered. A son. Had he really fathered a child? The very notion sent warmth curling through his chest.

It wasn’t until he’d pinned three more bulls that he allowed himself to think about Delaney again. Five years had done nothing to dull the attributes he’d found so appealing when they’d met. Her red hair blazed like a wildfire. No less spunky, for sure, but maybe now she was thinner. He had noticed a change in her eyes. Still clear aqua in color, the bubbly spark had dimmed, replaced by a weariness he feared he’d had a part in causing. Undoubtedly he bore some blame. Maybe her dad hadn’t told her he’d kicked them off his ranch. His own Papa would do that if he caught someone sneaking out of Maria Sofia’s bedroom.

What a mess. Delaney’s life had certainly been altered forever. Not just having borne a child alone, but dealing with the abrupt death of her father. He could sure relate to that. And if, as she’d indicated, Mr. Blair’s demise had left her without the only home she’d ever known, well, it’d be a high hurdle to overcome. He had thought his family had weathered too much in the accident that took his stepmother’s life and paralyzed his dad from the waist down. Always stalwart, strong and larger than life, Arturo Sanchez had been left crotchety and bitter. Hell on wheels was how Vicente put it. Add to that their business problems, and their family dynamics had been transformed, leaving all of them short-tempered. Maybe losing their share of the US bull market wasn’t Delaney’s fault. She’d acted surprised. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to excuse the fact she’d waited five years to inform him he had a son—if indeed he did.

* * *

MARIA SOFIA RAISED her voice as she chattered nonstop on the ride back to Delaney’s SUV. Much of her conversation blew away on the wind.

As she reined to a halt by the automobile, she said, “Instead of leaving and going back to Buenos Aires, you need to stay. I know, why don’t you share our evening meal? If you like steak.” She wrinkled her nose in apparent distaste. “Consuelo is an excellent cook. She always prepares enough for a half dozen guests.”

“I can’t barge in on a meal. It’s clear I’m persona non grata with the bulk of your family,” Delaney said with panic, as she dismounted and shook down her dress. “With luck I may be able to have the hotel concierge arrange an earlier flight back to Texas for me. I’ve hit a brick wall here. I shouldn’t have come, but I had to take the chance, don’t you see?”

Leaning out of the saddle, Maria Sofia squeezed Delaney’s shoulder. “Don’t give up hope. Have faith that Dayo will think this over and do the right thing.”

The girl looked so earnest, Delaney’s dispirited heart gave one tiny lurch of hope. “I appreciate all you’ve done, Maria Sofia.” She slipped out from under the girl’s touch and opened her driver’s door. Taking her purse out from under the seat, she dug out the ignition key and slid beneath the wheel.

“Wait,” Maria Sofia called, dismounting in a leap. “Dayo said for me to get your phone number. And I’ll give you mine so you can let me know if you’re able to get a seat on an earlier flight.” She tugged a phone from her jeans pocket and hit a few keys before turning an expectant gaze on Delaney.

Delaney rattled off a string of numbers, then retrieved her cell and keyed in Maria Sofia’s contact information even though she was nowhere near as optimistic as Maria Sofia that Dario would have a change of heart. She managed a smile and a wave while sparing a last look at the walled estancia as she drove off.

* * *

DARIO LIMPED IN late to the evening meal. He’d finished tagging the entire crop of young bulls, separating out a good number to be made steers at a later date. He hadn’t been surprised to find his leg turning purple where he’d been kicked by the bull. He was bloody where the sharp hoof had split his skin.

“You’ve kept us waiting almost fifteen minutes,” Arturo Sanchez groused from his seat at the head of the large dining table. His wheelchair was within reach, but the family patriarch refused to remain in the chair at mealtimes.

“You didn’t have to wait on me,” Dario said, sitting next to Vicente. The whole family knew their father was a stickler for dinner being served at nine on the dot, as did most Argentinians.

Their cook, Consuelo Martinez, who’d been hired by Maria Sofia’s mother, bustled into the room bearing a large metal platter filled with sizzling bife de lomo, sirloin steaks grilled to each man’s preference. Arturo insisted his meat be muy jugoso—very rare. Vicente took his jugoso—not so rare. Dario and Lorenzo liked theirs a punto, or medium. Maria Sofia didn’t like meat, and so Consuelo served her a crisp ensalada before she set the family-sized salad bowl in front of Arturo, along with a newly opened bottle of red wine. The old man tasted the wine, approved of it, then passed the bottle to Vicente to pour for the others. Each night, Arturo’s sour expression showed his anger that the accident had left him unable to walk around the table to fill everyone else’s glass. No one spoke until after their father offered up a short prayer to the Blessed Virgin. Since the accident, mealtime discussions had become restrained.

But this evening everyone quit eating when, seconds after the prayer, Dario picked up his glass of wine and casually announced, “I banded all the bulls today. Tomorrow Marcus and Jesus will start castrating the animals we culled out. Then I’ll be going to America for a week or so to take care of some private business.”

Maria Sofia clapped her hands and squealed. “I knew you’d do what’s right. And I’m going with you, Dayo,” she said in English.

Their father’s head shot up, and his upper body stiffened. “What is this nonsense? You can’t go anywhere during calving.” His Spanish was precise.

Vicente let his fork clatter against his plate. “How did the woman find you? I ordered her to leave the property when she buzzed at the gate.”

“Who buzzed?” their younger brother Lorenzo asked. “What woman? Are you holding out on us, Dayo?” he added with a laugh.

“It’s the Blair woman from Texas,” Vicente spat. “The one whose father screwed us over and cost us a bundle in money and prestige the month Papa had his accident.”

“Oh. Her.” Lorenzo scowled at Dario.

“I repeat, how did she find you?” Vicente sneered as he shoved aside his plate.

“I took her to see him,” Maria Sofia said lightly. “She had good reason to be here. And Dayo has good reason to make this trip. Tell them,” she said. “Papa, you won’t let me sell bulls, so I’ll go have a look at Texas.”

Arturo pounded his fist on the table. “Enough,” he roared. “There is nothing the Blair woman could possibly say or do to warrant Dario going to see her. If she’s come sniffing around, she’s probably discovered that you’re now a full partner in the estancia, son. And Maria Sofia, you only just got home from London. You need to enroll in a dance class and volunteer at the museum. I already spoke to the curator on your behalf. We’ll stop this talk and everyone will eat the flan Consuelo prepared.”

Anger simmering, Dario wadded his napkin and dropped it on his plate. For some reason he didn’t like his family tearing into Delaney. “I don’t recall asking permission to take a week off, Papa. I’m going, and my business with Dr. Blair is personal.”

“I’ll say,” Maria Sofia purred. “Delaney Blair claims she has a four-year-old son, and Dayo’s the boy’s father.”

Everyone’s utensils clattered against their china. Stunned silence hung in the air. Suddenly, Arturo swore in rapid-fire Spanish, and Vicente and Lorenzo shouted questions in Spanglish—which wasn’t uncommon as they frequently switched from one language to the other for business.

“Why now?” Vicente’s voice rose above the others.

“I told you,” Arturo snapped, “she’s somehow learned that I divided the estate between you three boys, which makes Dario a wealthy catch.”

“Stop it,” Dario shouted, rising from his seat. “You’re all bad-mouthing Delaney, and none of you know what you’re talking about. None of you know her.”

“I met her,” Maria Sofia chimed in. “I think she’s nice. Her son is sick. Dayo needs to take a test of some kind for him.”

“A paternity test, I hope,” Vicente said.

Dario glowered. “I’m not a fool. That’s one thing I insisted on. All of you are no more shocked than I was. I thought it was impossible at first, but I need to know the truth. I’m going to do this,” he finished, clutching the back of his chair.

“I took down her phone number,” Maria Sofia said, holding up her cell phone. She scrolled through a list of numbers, stopped on one and offered the phone to Dario. “I can go along as your chaperone,” she said cheekily. “To stop you in case you’re tempted to take up where you two left off.”

“Maria Sofia, you must start acting like a lady!” Arturo thundered.

Glaring at her, Dario snatched the phone out of her hand and turned away, pressing the send icon, ignoring his brothers and father telling him to ignore Delaney.

* * *

BY TEN THAT NIGHT, Delaney gave up hope that she might hear from Dario.

While she’d waited, she had phoned Nickolas. He was such a perceptive kid. One of the first things he’d asked was, “Why are you sad, Mommy?” She’d tried to cover, telling him she was happy that she was coming home early and would see him the next day. She hadn’t talked long after that, because of course she felt sad and her voice conveyed it.

She decided to pack so she’d be ready to check out at first light. She was half in the closet with clothes draped over her arm when her phone rang. Panic raced through her at the late hour, and her first thought was that something had happened to Nick. She dropped the clothes and raced to the bedside table. The number on her phone display wasn’t from Texas, thank heaven. But her speeding heart didn’t slow. Maybe it was the airline calling to say there was a change or worse, a cancellation of her flight.

“He...llo,” she managed. Her hand shook so much she was in danger of dropping the phone.

“Did I wake you?” a deep male voice inquired.

Delaney heard an explosion of other men talking in the background, some in Spanish, some English. “Excuse me?”

“Delaney? Don’t hang up. It’s Dayo.”

She gripped the phone more tightly, listening more closely to the background comments. Dario was catching heck from his family. She flinched when one man’s derisive tone rose above the others in clear English, saying, “Dayo, you are a fool to drop everything and dance to the tune of a woman who didn’t have the decency to tell you before this that you might be a father.”

Delaney thought it sounded like Vicente, the man who’d answered the intercom.

A gruffer man broke in angrily in mixed language. “I’m ordering you to stay here, Dario. That woman hurt our family. Can’t you see she’s la maliciosa?”

Delaney didn’t know the term, but she was willing to bet it wasn’t good.

Dario shouted, masking the others. “I need a few days to wind down projects on the estancia, then I’ll fly to Texas. You mentioned Lubbock. Is that where you’re living now?”

“I’m staying near the hospital there. Nick is waiting for a slot to open up in a study in San Antonio. So you’re really going to be tested?”

“First, I want DNA checked. Tell your doctor to order that. The next step depends on the results.”

“It’s an extra step, but okay, if that’s what it takes,” she said—but, what did he mean by seeing where to go from there? “DNA results take a week or more. A second cheek swab done at the same time would get you on the national registry. Why not do both?”

“Don’t push me, Delaney. I’m getting enough flak from my family.”

“I can hear that. But my concern is for Nickolas.” She sighed. “Do you want to call me after you land, so I can come to the airport and pick you up?”

He hesitated several seconds, and Delaney thought he was going to hang up without answering. But he finally said a bit less curtly, “I’ll arrange for a hotel cab at the airport. Give me the name of the hospital.”

Tired and a bit sick at heart for the changes five years had wrought in the man she still had feelings for, Delaney gave Dario the information he had requested. He didn’t say goodbye. She held her phone for quite a while, a range of emotions battering her. Some anger, yes, but more sorrow. When at last she put down the phone, her most fervent prayer was that he’d follow through on his travel plans.

It wasn’t until she’d finished packing and had crawled into bed that Delaney began to suffer a new set of worries. While it stood to reason that Dario would be curious about Nickolas and would want to see him, how on earth would she introduce them? She had put off mentioning Dario to Nick. She couldn’t very well say, “Hey, Nick, my little cowboy, this stranger barging into your room is your father.” No, she couldn’t say that. Even after DNA proved paternity, even if Dario went ahead with the blood screenings, even if luck was on their side—and that was a big if—when all was said and done Dario would return to his life in Argentina. She and Nickolas would go home to La Mesa. She couldn’t risk letting Nick get his heart broken if he got attached.

She barely slept. Once she got on the plane, however, she convinced herself that all she could do was to face each hurdle as it came up. She needed to place all her hopes on Dario Sanchez being the perfect match.

Chapter Three

Delaney’s flight home wasn’t a nonstop. When she landed in Miami, she checked her messages and found she had a voice mail from Dr. Avery. Her body went icy, then hot, then icy again. Her steps faltered as she searched for a semiquiet spot to listen.

“I’m sorry to bother you on your trip, Delaney,” the message started off. “Nickolas told me you would be home tonight. I have some information that will undoubtedly affect some of your plans. Dr. Von Claus contacted me with good news. His expansion grant was accepted. He wants Nickolas admitted in San Antonio, and he’s arranged for a bed as soon as we can fly Nickolas down. We spoke at length, and I agree it’s the best option for Nick. I took the liberty of lining up a medical flight for the two of you tomorrow afternoon. Of course it hinges on your approval.”

In spite of the butterflies in her stomach, Delaney quickly called him back. “This is Delaney,” she said when Dr. Avery answered.

“Goodness, are you back in town already?” he asked.

“No, I have a layover in Miami. Does this mean Nickolas won’t need a marrow transplant after all?”

“No, no. He must have a marrow donor. But Dr. Von Claus’s program has been successful in stimulating the patient’s energy, which lets his team lower the frequency of radiation. All of that will hopefully give you more time to find a marrow donor.”

“His father has reluctantly agreed to fly to Texas for blood tests.”

“That’s wonderful! I hadn’t received any test requests. So, he’s coming here, rather than being tested in Buenos Aires?”

“Yes, he wants DNA tests done first. It’s infuriating and humiliating.”

“I’m sorry, Delaney. Some men find it difficult to face hard truths.”

“That’s a nice way of saying he’s being a jerk.”

“Ah...well, it’s a matter of opinion, I suppose. And you’re entitled to your feelings. When is he arriving?”

“Dario needs a few days to wind up his business before he leaves Argentina. I’m not totally sure when he plans to get here.”

“I’ll alert Dr. Von Claus to prepare documents needed for all the tests. One thing in your favor, Delaney, with the larger facility in San Antonio, they have much greater access to labs. DNA results shouldn’t take long.”

“I guess that’s something. You know I’m for anything that has a shred of promise to help Nick get better. Please, arrange the transfer, Dr. Avery. I’ll sign authorizations tonight. It will be midnight or later, but I’ll come straight to the hospital from the airport.”

“I’ll leave the necessary release forms with the ward clerk on Nick’s floor.” He gave her a bit more information about the receiving hospital, then said, “Delaney, don’t be too hard on Nick’s father. Remember we want his cooperation. The old saying is you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

“I know. I really do know that.” It was just so disappointing that he didn’t believe her. Didn’t trust her. After she hung up, Delaney took several deep breaths. Then she scrolled to Maria Sofia’s number. She should have gotten a number from Dario when he contacted her at the hotel, but she’d been so irritated by his attitude that she’d forgotten to ask.

The girl answered on the second ring, but their connection had static. “Maria Sofia, this is Delaney Blair.”

“Are you still in Argentina?”

“No, I left Buenos Aires early this morning. I’m awaiting my connection in Miami. Could you give Dario a message? Nickolas’s doctors will be moving him to San Antonio tomorrow.” She gave the girl the name of the facility. “I hope Dario hasn’t already booked a flight to Lubbock.”

The connection was bad, but Delaney caught Maria Sofia’s promise to let Dario know right away. “Our call is breaking up,” Delaney said, plugging one ear and moving nearer to a window. “I’ll be in Lubbock around midnight, Texas time, should Dario want to check anything else with me. Otherwise it’s the same plan, just a different hospital in a different city. Adios.”

She still had time to call Nickolas.

“Mommy, where are you? Last night you said you’d see me today.” He sounded fretful. Delaney was racked with guilt for leaving him in the first place to go on a wild-goose chase. Although, if Dario turned out to be a match, it would be worth every minute of her time.

“I’m at the airport, honey. I’ll be boarding a plane soon, and that will bring me closer to you. Remember I told you last night I didn’t get to only fly on one plane to get home. I’ll see you tonight, but don’t try to stay up, because you need your rest, and it’ll be very late when I land. I’ll wake you up and let you know I’m there. I promise.”

“Did you buy me a present? Henry’s daddy came to see him today and brought him a Dallas Cowboys shirt. I want one.”

Delaney had been walking toward her gate, and it so happened there were gift shops galore. She checked her watch to make sure she had enough spare time to stop at one. “How about a Miami Dolphins shirt instead?” she asked, finding a table of kids’ shirts on sale right inside the door.

“Okay, I guess. Mommy...Henry asked where my daddy works. I told him I don’t got a daddy. He laughed and said everybody’s got one.”

Delaney’s heart seized for a moment as she waited in line to pay. Was it Murphy’s Law? Up to now she’d never needed to have this conversation with Nickolas. Henry was older than Nick, so it was understandable he might ask such questions.

“Nick, honey, Mama has to go board her plane. You be a good boy for the nurses, and I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”

“Okay. Bye.”

She pocketed the phone, and paid for the shirt and tucked it into her carry-on. She’d never lied to Nick about the absence of his father. She had put off getting into it with him—waiting, she supposed, for when he went to school. Nick knew Zoey Bannerman had a dad, and yet he’d never asked her why he didn’t have one. The subject had never come up before. Now it had. Boy, howdy, just what she didn’t need—another problem to deal with.

More anxious than ever to get home, she forced her mind to things other than Nick’s absentee father.

San Antonio would provide a whole new block of prospective Latino donors. If things didn’t work out with Dario, she would need help arranging a recruitment event. She’d also need someone to drive her car to San Antonio, since she would fly with Nickolas. Maybe Jill Bannerman and Amanda Evers, her friends from La Mesa, would do that, and help her organize a campaign to register a new batch of prospective donors.

Her flight was called, temporarily stopping her planning. Delaney stood and gathered her things. Once boarded and settled, she got lost in thought again. It took a while, but she finally admitted she needed to feel as if she was doing something productive while she waited for Dario to be tested. Or with luck, maybe a stranger-donor would magically show up if she cast a wide enough net around San Antonio.

She tried to read one of her veterinary journals, but her mind skipped back to Dario, back to how good he had looked, back to how cold he had been. So, wouldn’t it be the perfect retribution to find a stranger donor and be able to tell Dario she no longer needed him?

Or not.

Deep down Delaney couldn’t help wishing he’d been someone she could lean on. Yes, she had done her best after he’d pulled his vanishing act to put him out of her mind. Of course he’d always lurked there. And now that he was back in the flesh, gosh darn it, he was stuck there. Her heart had a far more charitable opinion of him than her head did.

A few hours later when her flight landed in Lubbock, she was bone weary and champing at the bit to see Nickolas. Delaney retrieved her bags and rummaged in her suitcase for a sweater to ward off a nip of fall in the air. Nick had taken ill in late May, and here it was almost October. Oh, how she hoped he wouldn’t have to spend Halloween in the hospital. But that, too, was probably wishful thinking.

She arrived at the hospital after midnight. Per the hospital rules, she stopped at the main desk to check in. The night registrar knew her well, since she’d been there through Nick’s first bout with cancer, too. “Is everything all right with your son, Dr. Blair?” the woman asked. “Or did you go out for a breath of air before I came on shift?”

“I’ve been out of town for a couple of days, Marge. I know Nick will be asleep, but I promised him I’d come in when my flight arrived. I’ll probably spend the night at his bedside. Tomorrow he’s being transferred to San Antonio.”

The sympathetic clerk shot Delaney a look of concern.

“Nick’s doctor says it’s a positive move,” she assured the woman. At this small hospital, staff became like family.

“Then, that’s good,” the woman said. “Would you like me to have an orderly prepare you a cot?”

“Thanks, but the chair reclines. I don’t want to disturb his roommate.”

A harried-looking man entered the hospital and approached the desk, so Delaney waved and headed for the elevators. She rode up with a couple of tired-looking interns. They got off on the surgical floor. Delaney went up two more floors to the pediatric area, which split off into a variety of wings. She was all too familiar with the cancer ward.

At the nursing station she was again greeted like an old friend. One of Nick’s favorite nurses, a young, dark-haired and cherry-cheeked woman, smiled and handed Delaney a folder. “Dr. Avery said you’d be by quite late. After you check on Nickolas, if you’d like to go to the waiting room, look these over and sign where the doctor put red x’s, we should be able to get his transfer scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. I hate to see him go, but professionally speaking, I hope they can help him make a full recovery.”

“You and me both, Jessie.” Delaney took the folder and tucked it under her arm. Glancing back, she said, “I’ll probably spend what’s left of the night. I’d appreciate it if someone can drop off a blanket.”

The nurse nodded, and Delaney went down the hall. She peeked in, then entered Nick’s room. She was always struck by how small he looked in the bed. One arm was hooked up to a hydration drip, and the other was curled tightly around his stuffed cow. She set the folder and her purse on the chair and riffled her fingers through his dark hair. Last time, chemo had left him nearly bald. This time they were using only radiation. It had other devastating effects, but he hadn’t lost his hair.

Was it her imagination or were his eyelids more translucent and bruised-looking? He seemed thinner, if possible, from when she’d left him. The radiation gave him stomachaches, and on the days he had the treatments, he didn’t eat. Was he wasting away before her eyes? Could Dario reverse it?

“Mommy?” Nickolas barely uttered the word, but his eyes, open now, looked large and dark in the soft glow of light that was always on behind the bed.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Shh. It’s very late, and we don’t want to disturb Henry.”

Nodding, he touched her face. “Did you bring my football shirt?”

“I have it. You can see it in the morning when there’s better light.”

“Okay. Will you stay?”

“Yes. I have to go sign some papers for Dr. Avery, but I’ll stay right here until after you go back to sleep. And I’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.”

He didn’t respond but grasped her hand, forcing her to perch awkwardly on the edge of the recliner. She watched his incredibly long eyelashes as his eyes slowly drifted shut. She loved him so much. Her heart was a lump of lead in her chest. Nick was incredibly trusting, as if he believed her very presence could make him better. If only that were true.

Sitting in the semidarkness amid the clicks, hums and beeps of the equipment monitoring her child’s vital signs, Delaney found herself praying that Dario would show up in San Antonio and his blood would be near enough a match to Nick’s to give their son a chance for a full recovery. So many times of late she had bargained with God for Nick’s life. She didn’t know what she had to give in exchange, but she’d put everything on the table.

Delaney brushed his warm little fingers with her thumb until his hand relaxed and dropped away from hers. Only then did she take the folder and go down to the empty waiting area. As a rule there were always anxious parents or other family members there, sitting in quiet groups, drinking coffee from the large industrial pot. Tonight she didn’t want coffee. But after reading the same paragraph several times without making sense of it, she rose and poured herself a cup. The aroma alone helped her digest the complicated content. She read to the end of the document, then sat and stared into space.

Her signature would permit Dr. Von Claus to place Nick in an experimental program where limited data suggested promise of beefing up his energy. As always there were risks. He might be allergic to the experimental cocktail of meds, for example.

Rising, she went to the sink and dumped what remained of her coffee. She remembered back to the boy her son had been after he’d gone into remission, before the fevers had returned with a vengeance. He’d been a normal, happy-go-lucky kid whose curiosity had seemed boundless. Now he was pale and wan, and intermittent fevers sapped his will to get out of bed.

Yawning, she paced around the table and massaged tight knots in her shoulders. If only she had family with whom to bat around the pros and cons of this offer. She hesitated to call it an opportunity, because all results from the study weren’t rosy.

Did she trust Dr. Von Claus and Dr. Avery? Without answering her own question, she picked up a pen and scribbled her name beside the red x’s. As a veterinarian there were times she’d given advice based on her gut instinct and sketchy evidence. Closing the folder, she took it back to Nurse Jessie. Then she took the thin blanket the nurse had scrounged up and hurried back to Nick’s room where she relaxed as best she could in the recliner.

* * *

A CRESCENT MOON and a few stars still adorned the lavender early morning sky when Dario exited the hacienda and tossed two suitcases into the back of his Range Rover. He was flying off to Texas, and he hadn’t slept much over the past several nights. His ears still rang from the daily battles with his father and his older brother, who also thought he ruled the roost now. Lorenzo had bowed out of the squabbles shortly after Delaney’s visit.

Dario thought about how much he disliked arguments, unlike the other hotheaded men in the Sanchez family. He’d tried to reason with them, then cajole them. He’d appealed to their sense of duty. Nothing swayed the old man or Vicente. During last night’s fracas at dinner, his father had threatened to have Benito Molina, the estancia attorney, strike Dario’s share in the hacienda and the business. Then Maria Sofia had waded in, demanding to know why she didn’t get an equal share of the family holdings, which opened a whole other debate. The three sons knew, of course, that su padre believed women should be taken care of by their father, brothers or husbands. Their little sister had her own strong views on that.

Hoping he could put the whole mess behind him while in Texas, Dario fastened his seat belt and thrust the key into the ignition. All at once the rear passenger door opened, and he saw a bag or two tossed in before the door slammed and he was plunged into darkness. Then the front passenger door opened, and Maria Sofia climbed in.

“What in the devil are you doing?” Dario roared.

“Going to Texas with you,” she said, settling into her seat. “We’d better hurry, or we could miss the flight.”

“We are not going anywhere. You, Maria Sofia, are staying here.”

She shook her head.

“Out.” He shooed at her with his right hand. “You don’t have a ticket, and even if I wanted to buy you one at the airport, even if there are spots available on both legs of my flight, Papa would skin us alive when we return.”

She pulled some papers from her shoulder bag and waved them under his nose. “I have tickets, Dayo. Papa paid, but he had Lorenzo book online for me.”

“Why? Why would Papa do that?”

“Drive, and I’ll tell you.”

Ribbons of sunlight had begun to lighten the sky overhead. Dario threw the Range Rover in gear. Only after they were through the gate did he ask, “So, did all of these big changes come about after I left the table last night?”

“Yes. Vicente would have no part of it. I could have done the booking myself. Papa is so provincial.” She shot Dario a grin that he didn’t return. “I think he caved because he’s afraid you’ll do something stupid, like marry Delaney Blair. And Lorenzo said, while I’m gone, Papa’s going hunting for some suitable man to take me off his hands. He’s near apoplectic at the thought of me wanting an equal share in the estancia.” She rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still thinks arranged marriages are acceptable?”

Dario grunted and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“My mother would have never gone along with that idea.”

“I don’t know.” Dario shrugged. “My mother would have fought him tooth and nail. She was a firebrand. Your mother was a lady in every sense of the word. She loved Papa and catered to his every whim.”

“That’s so lame. Well, I’m not going to be coerced into marriage. And you’re a fine one to talk. You walk off instead of standing up to Papa and Vicente. I guess I can understand you taking heat from Papa. But what right does Vicente have to yell and get so angry at you for wanting to go see Delaney Blair?”

Dario shot her a veiled look. “Vicente loved someone when he wasn’t much older than you are now. They were engaged, and planning a big wedding. Soledad begged to go with them when he and Papa delivered bulls to a rancher in Wyoming, and then she ran off with a rodeo bull rider. Vicente says he’s over it, but he isn’t. It’s why he doesn’t work with the bulls, never makes deliveries and instead only handles the financial end.”

“How come I didn’t know any of that?”

“You were a toddler. And Vicente remains bitter. He holds his loss against all Americans. That’s why I didn’t fight with him about Delaney. He’s not going to change his mind.”

“That’s so unfair. Instead of holding a grudge, he should have found someone else to love.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Dario mumbled. They drove in silence as they entered the city and traffic picked up.

“I want to market our bulls,” Maria Sofia said, veering to a side topic.

“You what? Now, wait a minute.” Afraid of sounding too much like his father, he elected to bite back a remark hovering on the tip of his tongue, mainly that selling bulls was no job for a young woman.

“Would you stand up for me? Papa might listen to you.”

“Maria Sofia, I don’t think your years at a finicky girls’ school lays the groundwork to sell cantankerous bulls.”

“I don’t, either, which is why I took online courses in marketing from a reputable university, too.” She shot him a smile.

All he could do was laugh as he pulled the Range Rover into airport parking. “And that is something my mother would have done to outsmart my father. We’ll talk about some of your ideas later. I’m sure we’ll have downtime in San Antonio. Even if you convince me, you still have to get approval from Papa, Vicente and Lorenzo. We’re all equal partners, remember.”

“The fact you’ve said you’ll listen gives me hope, Dayo. I got all A’s in my marketing courses. The final paper I presented was based on our family operation. The professor said I showed ways to cut costs and increase sales by up to forty percent. I think money softens the hard heads of men like Vicente and Papa, don’t you?”

“As someone who’s still smarting from going three rounds with them and not winning, I’m in no position to offer help.” He parked and pocketed his key. “Let’s scramble. If the international check-in lines aren’t too long, we may have time for coffee. Here, let me get your bags. Do you have your passport?”

She nudged him away from the passenger door and crossed her eyes deliberately. “Stop being such a Sanchez. I’m capable of carrying my own bags.”

Dario drew back. “You don’t always have to flex your muscle to gain respect.”

“It seemed to me your respect for Delaney ticked up after she called you an ass and told all of us she was going back to Texas to find other donors.”

Lengthening his stride, Dario didn’t argue.

* * *

DELANEY FELT LOST in the larger city of San Antonio and in the bigger hospital. She was staying in a budget motel within walking distance of the hospital. It was noisy, but she thought it was safe.

Nick had become more fretful, too. Until he completed a full range of admitting examinations, he was in a private room. And the nurses, while competent, weren’t like the friends he’d left behind in Lubbock.

There hadn’t been any additional word from Dario, and that worried her.

Today was Saturday. Jill Bannerman was bringing Delaney’s car to San Antonio. Their friend Amanda Evers had had to go to Utah to see her father, who had fallen and broken his hip. Jill had had to wait until her husband, Mack, freed himself up from duties at their ranch to follow his wife to San Antonio in their vehicle.

Delaney had promised to meet them in the lobby of the sprawling hospital. She jumped up when she saw them.

Jill hugged her. Mack, his teenage daughter, Zoey, and Zoey’s best friend, Brandy, hung back.

“Can we see Nickolas?” Zoey asked. “Then Daddy’s going to take Brandy and me for a boat ride on the River Walk while you and Jill make plans for another campaign to round up donors. Is Nickolas worse?” the girl added worriedly.

Delaney hugged everyone before she answered. “He’s not worse, Zoey, but he’s no better. Doctors here have developed a new mix of meds we hope will keep the cancer from ravaging his strength. He’s been cranky since the move. Hopefully seeing you guys will add some sense of normalcy. Everything here is new and confusing to him. By the way, until they complete his initial tests, his visitors have to wear masks. You’ll see a box of disposable ones clipped to his door. There’s a trash bin outside to toss the used ones in when you leave.”

Brandy pointed to the rows of seats in the lobby. “Mr. B said I should wait here while he and Zoey visit Nickolas. He doesn’t know me as well as he knows Zoey. My mom said having so many visitors might be too much for him.”

Delaney took a second look at the two teens, who suddenly seemed less like kids and more grown up. “There’s a smaller waiting room on the fourth floor near Nick’s room. It’s quieter than here and has newer magazines. You can go up with Mack and Zoey and wait there. But, Brandy, he knows you well enough. I’m sure he’d love to see all of you. And you said you can’t stay long.”

“Is there a gift shop?” Zoey asked. “Dad said I could buy something for Nick here since, with homework and all, I didn’t have time to get anything in La Mesa.”

“Nick’s favorite toy is the stuffed cow you gave him, Zoey. Save your money for the shops along the River Walk.”

Mack Bannerman groaned. “Don’t tell them about the shops. I only promised the boat ride and lunch at one of the cafés that overlook the river.”

Jill, Mack’s first love and now new wife, patted his arm. “You big phony, we talked about how much the girls could spend on clothes in those cool shops.”

Chuckling, the handsome rancher bent and silenced his wife with a kiss. Delaney was glad that Mack had found such happiness, but she envied the loving relationship he and Jill had.

Jill playfully pushed her husband away. “You guys go see Nickolas. Do get him something from the gift shop. I need some time with Delaney. Touch base after you finish shopping with the girls on the River Walk. Then you can swing back and get me.” She picked up a large leather bag at her feet. “We’re going for coffee, and to discuss a plan for another donor drive.”

Mack and the girls waved and headed off, and Delaney ushered Jill to the steps that led down half a floor to the hospital coffee shop.

Jill patted her ever-present camera bag. “If we put a photo on the recruitment flyer of you and Nickolas, strangers will imagine themselves in your shoes.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to raise awareness in the Latino population here, but I also have to consider the cost. Printing a color flyer is considerably more expensive than a black-and-white text-only one like I used in La Mesa. I spent a small fortune on the trip to see Nick’s father.”

“But it resulted in him coming to be tested. That’s good, right? In fact, maybe you should wait until you see if he’s a match.”

“I gave that a lot of thought.” Delaney paused to fill two Styrofoam cups with coffee. She handed one to Jill and indicated where she could add cream and sugar.

Jill helped herself to a generous amount of both. Delaney, who drank her coffee black, led the way to a table for two tucked into a quiet corner.

Jill said as she sat, “I sense that you want to go ahead with this donor registry roundup. I don’t want to pry, but are you afraid Nick’s dad will back out? What is his name? I hate to keep referring to him as that guy.”

Delaney circled the rim of the steaming cup with one forefinger. “His name is Dario. Dario Sanchez. His family and friends call him Dayo. I did, too, during our short summer...affair, I guess you’d call it.” She frowned. “To be honest, Jill, I don’t know if he’ll back out.” She couldn’t hide her anguish from her friend seated across the small table. “Frankly I go back and forth between hoping he comes and that he’ll be a match, to worrying about other ramifications if he does. He was so different from the man I remember. His family, except for his half sister, is rude and controlling. Another big worry that one of Nick’s nurses in Lubbock brought up—what if Dario demands equal custody once he’s satisfied Nick is his son?”

“Is that likely? I mean, you said he’s involved with a family business in Argentina.”

“He is. But ask Mack to verify how charming and persuasive Dario can be. Mack bought a bull from him that summer, too. What nags me is the nurse was once married to a Latino. She said it’s a cultural thing for the men to especially want custody of their boys.”

“Heavens, you don’t need that.” Jill spun her cup a few times before taking another sip. “I never got to know my real father, and I’m a new stepmother myself. I can almost assure you that when Nick is older he’ll want some kind of relationship with his birth father.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.