“No, there’s Javier and Carlos who work in the stables and help with the general upkeep of the estate. They have worked here for years and are excellent at managing the horses. I don’t know what I would do without them. Then there’s Esmeralda, who helps with some of the heavy housework. She doesn’t live in the house like the others, but comes in part-time during the week to help Isabella.” He paused to think about what he should say about Isabella. In an affectionate voice he tried to describe her. “Isabella is wonderful. She is the most amazing woman. I am sure that you will love her.”
He took his eyes off the road for a mere second to look at Mary. She did not look well. Maybe she was going to be sick. They had been zigzagging up through the hills and he had taken several very sharp turns.
“Are you okay? Shall I stop the jeep?”
“No I’m fine, honest. I can’t wait to see Isabella. I’m sure she’s great.” However, Don Paulo thought she didn’t sound keen on the idea at all. Maybe she was just tired.
Five minutes later they finally pulled into the drive of his beautiful house. As soon as they came within sight of it, Javier and Carlos came running down the drive calling out frantically and waving their arms. Carlos was holding a gun. As the car approached the house Paulo began to make out what they were saying. One of the horses had been injured on the other side of the estate, half an hour before while they were out exercising them. Javier thought that it had broken one, or possibly two of its legs. Carlos thought that they might have to shoot it. Don Paulo stopped the car and explained to Mary what had happened.
“I am so sorry, but I have to go and see the horse,” he said. “Don’t worry, Isabella is here and expecting you. I’m afraid she doesn’t speak any English, but I’m sure she will take very good care of you.” He let Mary out of the jeep, took out her suitcase, and then drove off.
Mary stood in front of the huge, honey-coloured hacienda and wondered if she had done the right thing. The house was stunning, but it was in the middle of nowhere. The town of Corazon had been remote, but this was truly isolated. She could not see another house anywhere within view, just trees and coffee fields up the sloping hillsides around her. Also, the sight of Paulo’s men running around with guns when they arrived did not do much to make her feel at ease. Paulo had tried to explain the situation to her and she could see that he had no choice but to go with his men to attend to the injured horse, but she didn’t like being left outside the house on her own. He hadn’t even taken the time to ring the door bell and introduce her to Isabella, not that she was in any rush to meet the woman. In fact, it was the mention of Isabella that disconcerted her the most, more than the isolation, more than Paulo running off and more than his men running about with loaded firearms.
The “wonderful Isabella” as he had called her, was obviously his wife. She hadn’t previously considered the fact that he might be married, but the more she thought about it, the more she realised that a powerful, handsome man like him was bound to be hitched. She was upset by the idea and by her own foolishness in secretly hoping that once she was in his house, she might get to know him a bit more intimately. However, she was here now and there was nothing else for her to do than to knock on the heavy wooden door in front of her and meet Paulo’s wife.
It took a few minutes before the door was answered, but when it was, Mary was confronted by a short, stocky woman in her late fifties, dressed in a plain, navy blue dress.
“Hi! I’m Mary Delaney, a friend of Paulo’s.” Mary tried to give the woman a friendly smile, but the big old woman just stared at her with large grey eyes. “Soy Mary. Amigo Don Paulo.” Mary tried again in broken Spanish.
“Dios mio!” the woman exclaimed and crossed herself.
The two
He took his eyes off the road for a mere second to look at Mary. She did not look well. Maybe she was going to be sick. They had been zigzagging up through the hills and he had taken several very sharp turns.
“Are you okay? Shall I stop the jeep?”
“No I’m fine, honest. I can’t wait to see Isabella. I’m sure she’s great.” However, Don Paulo thought she didn’t sound keen on the idea at all. Maybe she was just tired.
Five minutes later they finally pulled into the drive of his beautiful house. As soon as they came within sight of it, Javier and Carlos came running down the drive calling out frantically and waving their arms. Carlos was holding a gun. As the car approached the house Paulo began to make out what they were saying. One of the horses had been injured on the other side of the estate, half an hour before while they were out exercising them. Javier thought that it had broken one, or possibly two of its legs. Carlos thought that they might have to shoot it. Don Paulo stopped the car and explained to Mary what had happened.
“I am so sorry, but I have to go and see the horse,” he said. “Don’t worry, Isabella is here and expecting you. I’m afraid she doesn’t speak any English, but I’m sure she will take very good care of you.” He let Mary out of the jeep, took out her suitcase, and then drove off.
Mary stood in front of the huge, honey-coloured hacienda and wondered if she had done the right thing. The house was stunning, but it was in the middle of nowhere. The town of Corazon had been remote, but this was truly isolated. She could not see another house anywhere within view, just trees and coffee fields up the sloping hillsides around her. Also, the sight of Paulo’s men running around with guns when they arrived did not do much to make her feel at ease. Paulo had tried to explain the situation to her and she could see that he had no choice but to go with his men to attend to the injured horse, but she didn’t like being left outside the house on her own. He hadn’t even taken the time to ring the door bell and introduce her to Isabella, not that she was in any rush to meet the woman. In fact, it was the mention of Isabella that disconcerted her the most, more than the isolation, more than Paulo running off and more than his men running about with loaded firearms.
The “wonderful Isabella” as he had called her, was obviously his wife. She hadn’t previously considered the fact that he might be married, but the more she thought about it, the more she realised that a powerful, handsome man like him was bound to be hitched. She was upset by the idea and by her own foolishness in secretly hoping that once she was in his house, she might get to know him a bit more intimately. However, she was here now and there was nothing else for her to do than to knock on the heavy wooden door in front of her and meet Paulo’s wife.
It took a few minutes before the door was answered, but when it was, Mary was confronted by a short, stocky woman in her late fifties, dressed in a plain, navy blue dress.
“Hi! I’m Mary Delaney, a friend of Paulo’s.” Mary tried to give the woman a friendly smile, but the big old woman just stared at her with large grey eyes. “Soy Mary. Amigo Don Paulo.” Mary tried again in broken Spanish.
“Dios mio!” the woman exclaimed and crossed herself.
The two
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