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Isabella was stunned. “No!” So, that’s why her mother always escorted her out before the very end of her father’s bouts. Valentina always told her it was to get ahead of the crowd. Her face crumpled with tears. “Why?”
Her father shrugged and told her that was the way it had always been, an ancient ritual of their people. She’d been devastated, following him around for the rest of the day, debating the issue and pleading with him to stop being a matador. He’d gone to his knees, taking her hands in his. “Isabella, my pet, I am a matador. This is all I know. The battle I have with the bulls is one of honor and strength. I respect their power and I respect their sacrifice. I, like you, wish there was some way to preserve our traditions, yet let them live.”
“There has to be,” she’d begged, “please, Papa.”
Romero had kissed his daughter’s cheek. “You’d have me turn the world upside down, wouldn’t you?”
Just the memory of her father and his kind heart brought tears to Isabella’s eyes. Over the next few years, she’d kept up her quest to change his mind, finding a surprising ally in her mother. Valentina’s father, Jose Mercedes, had also been a matador, a very brave one who’d brought prestige to the family by being inducted into the Toreador Hall of Honor before his death. When Isabella confided her dismay to her mother over the treatment of the bulls, she understood. Together they sought to change Romero’s mind, even convincing him to stop selling the cattle on the ranch for slaughter. This decision was met with much opposition, especially from Don Luis. Instead, Romero concentrated on raising breeding stock.
“Oh, no,” Isabella whispered as she made the last curve and the entrance gate to her stately home came into full view. Just ahead of her, Don Luis’s limo could be seen making its way toward the main house. She’d so hoped to get back before he returned from his trip. Immediately, she began wracking her brain to come up with a likely story as to where she’d been and what she’d been doing. Thank goodness Renata was used to covering for her, if the need arose.
True to her expectations, she’d no more than pulled into the driveway and turned her car over to one of their employees when the storm struck.
Don Luis strode toward her. He was a distinguished looking man, but his countenance was marred by a perpetual frown. “Where have you been, Isabella? I thought you were working on your studies while I was gone.”
Isabella chose to be evasive. “I am caught up with my studies, Uncle.”
“I don’t believe you, I think you’ve been out with that wild friend of yours.” He narrowed his gaze. “Have you been seeing a man?”
“I’ve seen many men,” Isabella countered. “I pass them on the streets and in restaurants.”
“Don’t be smart with me,” he warned. “If you give me reason, I’ll restrict your movements. You will be a proper lady. I will allow no shame to be brought to the Cortez name!”
His accusations angered Isabella. “Your gambling and drinking does more to dishonor the Cortez name than anything I could ever do.”
Slap! Isabella reeled to the side when her uncle struck her hard on the cheek.
“You dishonor your family and your father’s memory!”
Placing her hand to her face, Isabella stood ramrod straight, refusing to cower in front of her uncle. “I would never dishonor my father’s memory, but you are not my father!” Even as she defended herself, a twinge of guilt worried her mind. Would La Diosa tarnish Romero Cortez’s legacy? She’d received word he was being considered for induction in the Toreador Hall of Honor. She knew this wouldn’t be happening if his decision to change his way of fighting bulls had become known. But he’d been killed the night before he was to make his big announcement in Mexico City. The coincidence of the timing wasn’t lost on Isabella. She knew they were connected, she’d just never been able to prove it.
“I shall count my blessings!” Don Luis raged. “No child of mine would ever speak so disrespectfully to their elders!”
Choosing to survive to fight another day, Isabella calmed her voice, seeking a reasonable tone. “I am an adult, Uncle. I am grateful for your concern, but I have no need of your supervision.”
Don Luis also seemed to temper his reaction. Whether they liked it or not, one was dependent on the other…at least for the time being. “I beg to differ, Isabella. I shall continue to ensure your safety and your well-being by monitoring your activities and the company you keep.”
Seeing that they were just rehashing the same argument they always had, Isabella sought to end the verbal duel. “Periodically, I need fresh air, Uncle. I’ve been driving around the countryside and the ranch…remembering happier times.” All of that was true, just not the whole truth.
Mention of the ranch seemed to distract him from his inquisition. “I have a visitor coming in the morning, one who might strike a lucrative deal with me.”
Isabella heard his words, with me. A deal with him, not with her, not with the ranch – with him. “Very well. Terra Dura’s reputation should be spread far and wide.” Her answer was cool. Isabella understood why her uncle would be possessive over the ranch. Even though it belonged to his brother, Don Luis had lived here for years. Trusting her relative was hard, however. Isabella was afraid her uncle viewed her parents’ deaths as an opportunity. If he could, Don Luis would take Terra Dura away from her.
To forestall trouble, Isabella was seeking the advice of an attorney. She had a plan, but she had to be careful.
“Pedro! Inform our foreman that I would like to meet with him concerning our guest and the bulls I want readied for his inspection.”
Pedro came forward, his gate slow, but his eyes intelligent. “I’m sorry, Sir. The foreman is out near the vineyard inspecting the new irrigation system.”
“Have Juan saddle my mount, I’ll ride out to talk to him. And bring me some cigars!”
Don Luis’s orders was met with a nod. Old Pedro let his gaze skate over Isabella’s face, but their employee didn’t allow his emotions to show. They both knew how much her uncle enjoyed playing the role of rich rancher. Sadly, if it weren’t for her and the men who’d worked for the family for years, Terra Dura wouldn’t have survived. A property this big required constant care and supervision. Don Luis was too easily distracted by his vices. At least when he was otherwise occupied, Isabella could do what she needed to, both on the ranch and in the bullring. Yet if she was arrested or embroiled in a scandal, there was no doubt in her mind he would attempt to use those things to gain complete control of her fortune and her ranch.
“Uncle, who…” Isabella started to ask the identity of their impending visitor, but Pedro’s return with a box of Cubans interrupted her.
“Senor, a storm approaches. The ride should be short.”
Even though Juan was speaking out of concern, Don Luis bristled. “I have enough sense to come in out of the rain, surely.” With that terse reply, he placed the wooden box in his arm and stalked off to the barn.
