Santa Fe Fortune & How to Marry a Matador

confident, competent.
    This temporary gallery-running made him feel something altogether different, and Dan didn’t like it one bit. While working with the California couple had gone fine, dealing with Ms. Gwendolyn Marsh had thrown him unexpectedly off-kilter. Nancy had nowhere near prepared him for that. Just because he’d helped his big sister finance this place, that didn’t mean he wanted to be involved in any intimate way. Nancy was the art history major who loved the ins and outs of acquiring art. Running a gallery in Santa Fe had always been her dream, and once Dan had found himself in a position to help with that, he’d been more than happy to foot the bill. He’d never imagined that she’d repay him by listing his name as the primary gallery owner. This perpetually led to confusion, like during his exchange with Gwen today.
    No matter. He’d straighten all that out tomorrow. Surely, after a good lunch and some cordial conversation, they’d arrive at a fair compromise on price. It would be a simple matter to smooth over during coffee and dessert. Then Ms. Gwendolyn Marsh could cart her sexy little tail all the way back to North Carolina, and Dan would continue counting down the days to Nancy’s return, when he would once again be free to retreat to the peaceful quiet of Paradise Ranch. Life wasn’t really so complicated after all, Dan decided, thinking it through. All you needed was a plan. And Dan’s plans didn’t include one firecracker of a Southern belle upending his world and sending his foolish heart racing. For Dan Holbrook, days like that were done. His throat ached at the memory. He swallowed hard, trying to force it back down. Dan had stepped into the fire once and had come out barbequed. No need to start poking at coals again.

    Gwen sat on the patio of her airy suite, surrounded by sweeping adobe walls, potted ferns, and cactus flowers. Despite the record-high temperatures, the lack of humidity made it pleasant enough to stay outdoors in the shade. She sipped at her host’s complimentary glass of chardonnay, knowing she needed to be cautious. At seven thousand feet above sea level, one glass of wine could feel like two. The inn’s cocktail hour had also offered a selection of fruits, vegetables, and cheeses, and Gwen had fixed herself a small plate as a buffering against the booze. She’d have to remain mindful of herself tomorrow at lunch, particularly in light of the proposed margaritas.
    Gwen couldn’t help but feel a slight tingle of hopeful anticipation. For the first time in as long as she remembered, she’d be eating out with an eligible man. She knew, of course, that it was just an art deal, and she was merely passing through town. It was nonetheless hard to deny the tiniest fluttering in her tummy that sprang to life each time she recalled being face-to-face on the floor with the undeniably handsome Holbrook. Had something authentic actually passed between them, or had Gwen been so nervous and delusional as to have imagined the whole thing?
    She glanced down at the simple gold band on her left ring finger. Gwen wasn’t sure if it was her marriage she couldn’t forget or her failure to maintain it. “Marshes aren’t quitters!” her mom, Elizabeth, had always said. While life may have quit on Elizabeth, she wasn’t about to let her daughters give up on anything. It was a mantra burned into them, her and her sister Marian both. Gwen only wished Marian had quit having babies about three children ago. Marian was expecting her sixth, and after years of verbal and physical abuse, her alcoholic husband, Tom, had finally run out on her. Gwen had truthfully considered this a blessing, as it had been clear after the first couple of years that Marian never intended to leave Tom.
    Marian worked part-time as a hospital nurse and tried to get the day shift as much as possible. When she was gone, she left her oldest, the eleven-year-old, in charge. During night shifts, her elderly neighbor, Ms. Tilly, helped out. During the academic year, Marian had daycare arranged for the twins while the others were in school. She wasn’t sure how she’d manage once the new baby came along, especially under the threat of losing her home. Marian’s mortgage was several months overdue, and the collectors were moving in. She hadn’t told Gwen that Tom stopped sending payments, or that she was in so deep, until it was almost too late. As it was, Marian barely had funds in her meager savings