“You should go get cleaned up. I’ll look after this.”
It was all she was going to get from him. As she turned her back on him he knew this was the last time they’d be this alone. Any moment would mark the return of Maria and Carlos. And after that, it was back to Canada for Sophia.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHEN Sophia emerged from her room in fresh jeans and a T-shirt, Maria and Carlos had arrived. Sophia stepped into the kitchen amid the chatter and stood shyly, not sure how to interrupt. A small, dark-haired woman was shaking a finger at Tomas and Tomas was laughing at her. A man—Carlos—was watching with a smile on his face. He saw Sophia first and smiled at her.
“You must be Sophia. I am Carlos, and this is Maria. Welcome to Vista del Cielo, though our welcome is long overdue.”
Maria spun around, a ball of energy that filled the room with light. She rattled off a greeting in enthusiastic Spanish—the words were lost on Sophia but not the meaning. Barely over five feet, she was a firecracker. “We’re so glad you could join us, Sophia. And first thing tomorrow we will straighten out your reservation, I promise.” Then she came forward and gave Sophia a welcoming hug and beamed.
The reservation. Sophia had forgotten all about it! “Don’t worry about it. If it was a mix-up, it’s been a most pleasurable one.” She looked at Tomas as she said the last, feeling a little challenge build. She knew that Tomas would never want Maria to know how they’d fought—and how they’d made up, too. She smiled, wondering if she’d finally found his weak spot in the woman who would have been his mother-in-law.
“And our Tomas has been a good host.” It was a statement from Maria, not a question. Sophia nearly laughed. Yes, it gave her a perverse pleasure speaking to Maria while Tomas waited in the background. She wondered what Maria would say if she knew about falling off the horse. Or that Sophia had painted the shed. Or that she had kissed ‘our Tomas’ on the Puente Viejo just before making a wish.
“The very best,” she replied, sobering. This was also Rosa’s mother, the woman who had lost her daughter and the hopes and dreams that went along with that. “You have a beautiful home, Señora Rodriguez, and a beautiful estancia. The views are amazing.”
“I am sorry we were not here for your arrival, Sophia.”
Sophia smiled. “Don’t worry. Tomas looked after me. He’s a fine cook. Did he learn that from you?”
She caught Tomas’s gaze briefly and saw approval there. He should not have worried. His secrets were safe with her. And Maria was charming.
“Nothing beats Madre Maria’s cooking,” Tomas replied, and Carlos nodded.
Maria patted Tomas’s arm and then impulsively went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “In case you haven’t noticed, Tomas is family.” Maria patted Sophia’s arm like she had Tomas’s and Sophia bit down on her lip, a little overwhelmed and startled at the immediate intimacy of the welcome.
“We treat all our guests as family,” Tomas corrected firmly, but Maria glanced between them, unfooled.
“Aha, aha,” she replied, nodding, but her sharp eyes seemed to take in everything. “We will see, Tomas. Now come and eat. We brought dinner from the cantina Carlos likes. It has been a long day. Tomorrow will be time enough for asado.”
During the course of the meal Sophia listened to Maria and Carlos talking with Tomas. It was clear to Sophia that there was much affection between them all. Often they spoke in English in deference to her, but now and again they slipped into their native Spanish, and even though Sophia couldn’t make out the words, she could understand the teasing going on through the affectionate tones and smiles. She didn’t have to understand the language to know that he was closer to Carlos and Maria than she had ever been with Antoine’s family, or even her own. Affection in her house had seemed to hinge on conditions: scholastic achievements, involvement in the right things and with the right people. Margaret had wanted the best for her daughter, but the one thing missing was what Sophia saw now in the faces of Carlos and Maria. It was acceptance, and it was lovely—even if it did leave her feeling a little bereft.
Many things had become clear on this trip, and the one thing Sophia promised herself was that she would respect and accept herself. She didn’t always have to seek approval from others to have value. She glanced at Tomas, who was laughing at something Maria said about Miguel. She didn’t need Tomas’s approval, either. There was a difference however, she realized, between needing and wanting.
Carlos sat back and listened to the exchange, and when Maria slipped into rapid Spanish once more and shook a finger at Tomas, Carlos looked at Sophia and smiled. Something warm spread through her, a feeling of welcome. After a particularly loud burst of laughter, Maria looked over at Sophia. “I’m sorry,” she said, still chuckling. “We forget and have put you at a disadvantage, Sophia, by speaking in Spanish.”
“Which is a blessing, as I am sure Sophia is not interested in your stories of my bad behaviour, Madre Maria.” Tomas sent Maria a most severe look, but Sophia could see the good-natured devilment twinkling there.
“On the contrary,” Sophia countered. “I think they would be highly entertaining. I didn’t know you had it in you to misbehave.”
Carlos laughed then, the rusty sound so unexpected that they all burst out laughing again.
“Another ti
me, Sophia. When Tomas isn’t here to add his centavos. My children turned my hair gray.”
Sophia laughed, since Maria’s hair was jet-black without a streak of the offending colour. “I look forward to it,” she replied.
After the meal Sophia offered to help clean up, but Maria brushed her away. “You go,” she said, waving her away with a hand. “Tomas said you have kept busy. He has done a good job, our Tomas.” Maria spoke of him as though he was her own. How blessed Tomas was to have two sets of parents.
“He must have told you about the fire,” she continued, her face falling and Sophia finally saw a hint of middle-age wrinkles around the woman’s eyes. “And now so much is repaired. The shop and the pool…he told us you helped with the painting, Sophia. That was very generous of you.”
Tomas hadn’t told Maria that he’d practically forced her into helping that first day, but his secret was safe with Sophia. She remembered what he’d said about Maria being affected by the blaze, and she was doubly glad she had helped. “It was no trouble at all,” she replied. “I’ve enjoyed my time here, Señora Rodriguez. All of it.”
She swallowed against a lump of emotion. She had, even the arguing with Tomas. She’d felt more alive here in a handful of days than she ever had before.
“You call me Maria like everyone else.” Maria smiled at Sophia. “And get some rest. No rounding up cattle for you tomorrow. Carlos is here now. I am looking forward to getting to know you and treating you to a real asado. We will work together. Do you like cooking, Sophia?”