insane.
Stepping toward the seating area in front of the fireplace, he was surprised to see an older man entering from the right. “Saludos A…Austin.” A hand was raised in greeting and a genuine smile was on his face. For the first time, Austin felt a sense of rightness.
“Hello, Sir.” Who was this? He and Martina had barely talked, but she had mentioned a sister and an uncle, but he’d been under the impression Esteban was a much younger man. This gentleman had to be in his seventies.
“I am glad to see you walking around and looking healthy.” He came up and clapped Austin on the shoulder. “How about some brandy?”
“Sounds good to me.” He sat down where the gentleman indicated. Although he hated to ask, he didn’t see any way around it. “I know I’m supposed to know who you are, but could you remind me?”
A kind smile creased the man’s face. “I am Tomas Santiago Delgado, Martina and Alessandra’s father.” Tomas extended his hand in greeting.
Austin took it. “I’m so sorry.” He started to rise.
“Sit. Sit.” He handed Austin a snifter of brandy. “You were injured. I do not expect you to remember me.”
A fire was lit in the fireplace, although the air conditioner was running if he wasn’t mistaken. “I don’t remember much, unfortunately.” Taking a swallow, he decided to find out what he could. “Can you tell me exactly where I am?”
Tomas shook his head. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you. Sorrier than you can imagine.” A look of guilt crossed his features. Austin didn’t understand it.
“Hey, I’m alive. And from what little I’ve heard about what happened to me, I’m one lucky bastard.”
“True.” Tomas stared into the fire. “But to answer your question,” he gestured broadly, “this is the Los Banos Ranch in Sonora, Mexico. My family has lived here for ten generations. I can trace my bloodline back to the conquistadors.” He raised a frail fist in the air. “And that is my passion.” He pointed to a painting on the wall.
Austin rose to look at what the old man was pointing to. He was still weak, but he needed to move around. “A Criollo-Corriente. Very nice.”
“Ah, you do remember.” Tomas seemed pleased. “You are a cattleman, like me.”
“Really?” Austin was interested. This didn’t surprise him, not like the information he was now in Mexico. America was his country of birth, of that he was certain.
“Padre, what are you telling Austin?”
Martina breezed into the room, closely followed by two men. The first time he’d seen the bodyguards stationed outside his bedroom door, he had been afraid he was a prisoner. But then he realized they accompanied Martina wherever she went. Why, he didn’t know. Of course he realized this part of the world had its dangers, and a woman traveling alone always could use protection. But this seemed a little extreme. “Your father,” he put a little emphasis on the word, “has been telling me things.”
“Really?” Concern colored her face. “What kind of things?” She looked pointedly at her father, censure clearly in her voice.
“Is there something he shouldn’t tell me?” Austin wondered at her attitude.
A smile came upon her aristocratic face. “No, of course not.” Martina poured herself a drink.
“We were discussing cattle.” Tomas volunteered. “I was telling Austin how much we had in common.”
Her shoulders seemed to stiffen, but when she turned, she gave them both an indulgent look. “My two men. Of course, you have cattle in common.” Martina came to sit next to Austin on the couch.
“Refresh my memory.” He couldn’t help but enquire. “Tell me about my past.”
Tomas fidgeted, much to Austin’s surprise. But his daughter was as cool and calm as a rock. “What would you like to know?” she asked.
“Where am I from?” He gestured broadly with his hands. “Do I have a home? Do I have any family? Am I broke?” Those all seemed like legitimate
Stepping toward the seating area in front of the fireplace, he was surprised to see an older man entering from the right. “Saludos A…Austin.” A hand was raised in greeting and a genuine smile was on his face. For the first time, Austin felt a sense of rightness.
“Hello, Sir.” Who was this? He and Martina had barely talked, but she had mentioned a sister and an uncle, but he’d been under the impression Esteban was a much younger man. This gentleman had to be in his seventies.
“I am glad to see you walking around and looking healthy.” He came up and clapped Austin on the shoulder. “How about some brandy?”
“Sounds good to me.” He sat down where the gentleman indicated. Although he hated to ask, he didn’t see any way around it. “I know I’m supposed to know who you are, but could you remind me?”
A kind smile creased the man’s face. “I am Tomas Santiago Delgado, Martina and Alessandra’s father.” Tomas extended his hand in greeting.
Austin took it. “I’m so sorry.” He started to rise.
“Sit. Sit.” He handed Austin a snifter of brandy. “You were injured. I do not expect you to remember me.”
A fire was lit in the fireplace, although the air conditioner was running if he wasn’t mistaken. “I don’t remember much, unfortunately.” Taking a swallow, he decided to find out what he could. “Can you tell me exactly where I am?”
Tomas shook his head. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you. Sorrier than you can imagine.” A look of guilt crossed his features. Austin didn’t understand it.
“Hey, I’m alive. And from what little I’ve heard about what happened to me, I’m one lucky bastard.”
“True.” Tomas stared into the fire. “But to answer your question,” he gestured broadly, “this is the Los Banos Ranch in Sonora, Mexico. My family has lived here for ten generations. I can trace my bloodline back to the conquistadors.” He raised a frail fist in the air. “And that is my passion.” He pointed to a painting on the wall.
Austin rose to look at what the old man was pointing to. He was still weak, but he needed to move around. “A Criollo-Corriente. Very nice.”
“Ah, you do remember.” Tomas seemed pleased. “You are a cattleman, like me.”
“Really?” Austin was interested. This didn’t surprise him, not like the information he was now in Mexico. America was his country of birth, of that he was certain.
“Padre, what are you telling Austin?”
Martina breezed into the room, closely followed by two men. The first time he’d seen the bodyguards stationed outside his bedroom door, he had been afraid he was a prisoner. But then he realized they accompanied Martina wherever she went. Why, he didn’t know. Of course he realized this part of the world had its dangers, and a woman traveling alone always could use protection. But this seemed a little extreme. “Your father,” he put a little emphasis on the word, “has been telling me things.”
“Really?” Concern colored her face. “What kind of things?” She looked pointedly at her father, censure clearly in her voice.
“Is there something he shouldn’t tell me?” Austin wondered at her attitude.
A smile came upon her aristocratic face. “No, of course not.” Martina poured herself a drink.
“We were discussing cattle.” Tomas volunteered. “I was telling Austin how much we had in common.”
Her shoulders seemed to stiffen, but when she turned, she gave them both an indulgent look. “My two men. Of course, you have cattle in common.” Martina came to sit next to Austin on the couch.
“Refresh my memory.” He couldn’t help but enquire. “Tell me about my past.”
Tomas fidgeted, much to Austin’s surprise. But his daughter was as cool and calm as a rock. “What would you like to know?” she asked.
“Where am I from?” He gestured broadly with his hands. “Do I have a home? Do I have any family? Am I broke?” Those all seemed like legitimate
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