Santa Fe Fortune & How to Marry a Matador
anything beyond friendship was possible. Gwen had absorbed his apology with a mixture of understanding and regret. Naturally, she told him, she felt exactly the same.
“I only hope you find a woman someday who’s strong enough to take it,” she teased.
“That would be a catch worth hanging on to,” he agreed, enjoying his own lunch. “I grow my own jalapeños, you know.”
“Do you?” she asked with surprise. “Where?”
“Why, out on Paradise Ranch.”
“Paradise?” she queried. “That sounds lovely.”
“It’s nice enough,” he said. “Nice and peaceful.”
“Where is it exactly?”
“Not far outside of town, up a ways on Highway Eighty-four.”
“Do you spend most of your time there?”
“As much as I can manage.”
“Is it a family place?” she asked innocently.
Dan’s eyes clouded over like the ocean before a storm. “I’m not much on family these days. It’s just me and Nancy, really, and she keeps a place in the city.”
“I’m sorry, Dan. I didn’t know. Your parents… Have they been gone long?”
“Cancer took my mom several years ago. My dad set out on his own way before. Never really heard much from or about him after that.” The fine creases around his mouth hardened, resisting the bitter memory. Gwen’s heart ached for him.
“I know what that’s like,” she said softly. “My dad ran out on us too.”
He turned toward her, emotion shadowing his face. “I’m sorry to hear that. That’s a hard thing to have happened to you, you and Marian both. How’s your mom holding up?”
Gwen hung her head, the admission cutting to her core. “She’s not doing well. She doesn’t even know who we are half the time. Marian and I had to put her in a home because she’d started wandering.”
Dan looked distant a moment, his thoughts roaming. “That’s really rough,” he said after a while. “That must take a lot of strength to deal with.”
She met his calm and comforting gaze. How could he be so impossibly easy to talk to when the topic was so unbelievably hard? “I’m getting stronger every day,” she said, hoping that saying so would make it true.
Dan shot her a melancholy smile. “I once knew someone who used that expression a lot.”
“Yeah?”
“My baby sister, Jocelyn” he said, looking away.
“You didn’t... lose her too?” Gwen asked with concern.
Dan turned back to her, his expression worn. The air hung heavy between them while he seemed to weigh a decision.
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I brought it up, not you,” he said with a gentle smile. “And yes, we lost her. Funny thing is, I still miss her every day.”
A swell of sorrow overtook her as she studied this kind, compassionate man. “I’m sorry.”
“Didn’t mean to bring the conversation down.”
“It’s not down. We were just talking.” She felt her face flush at the admission. “I like talking to you.”
He stroked his chin and scrutinized her. “Is that a fact?”
It most certainly was. So much of a fact that if he didn't stop looking at her in that heart-pounding way, Gwen didn't trust what might come out of her mouth next.
“Are you up for one more stop?” he asked, blue eyes brightening.
Gwen nodded, still unable to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth.
“That’s good,” he said, mildly nudging her plate. “Better fuel up on the hot stuff to keep you going.”
She wrinkled her nose, and the moment between them lightened. “You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?” she said with a laugh.
“Not on your life,” he replied with a wink. “I like my up-and-coming artists alive and well.”
Dan sat beside Gwen on the boxy, rectangular bench, the biographic film on Georgia O’Keeffe’s life nearly over. The video was as much about O’Keeffe and her work that hung here as it was about the man who’d had the greatest influence on her. Photographer Alfred Stieglitz was not only the patron who sponsored her first art show in New York, he’d become her friend and confidant, and eventually her lover, capturing many provocative images of O’Keeffe with his camera. Dan rested his hand on the bench beside him, inadvertently brushing the edge of Gwen’s. His fingers ached to extend and take hold of hers. He drummed the ceramic bench beneath him to keep them from acting out on their own.
As the credits rolled and the house lights came up, Gwen gave him a soft smile. “What a beautiful story,” she said. “I had no idea
Weitere Kostenlose Bücher