He laughs. “You sound like you’re going to have him arrested for violating child labor laws.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
He sits and puts his foot up on the large slab of stone we use as a bench, and takes a drink of coffee. “He caught me stealing food out of the trash one day, after the vineyard workers had lunch. Pulled me aside, and while he was interrogating me, he noticed a bruise on my arm. He didn’t believe the story I peddled, and he told me to take off my shirt. I thought he was going to beat me, so I ran.”
Please don’t say he did.I take a breath and hold it while I wait for Santi to continue.
“He chased me and held me by the scruff of the neck until I showed him my scarred back.”
“Someone beat you.” It’s not a question, but he responds anyway.
He nods. “After my parents died, my brother Nino and I went to live with my mother’s sister. They lived up north. All the way up, right behind the Huntsmans’Quinta do Minho. Her husband arranged the sale of our house and took control of the proceeds. Nino was four. Most days we weren’t given much to eat, and he would cry himself to sleep because he was hungry. I’d steal scraps of food for him when I could, but my uncle was a miserable man, and after he caught me the first time, he kept a tight rein on the food. Anytime he even suspected something was missing, I’d get a beating.”
“Oh, Santi. I’m so sorry.”
He slides a boot over the dirt. “It was a long time ago, and it ended better for us than it does for most boys in that situation. After Antonio saw what was under my shirt, he made me tell him everything.”
Of course he did.
“Before we were through that day, he gave me a job cleaning up the picnic area after lunch. He didn’t make me feel ashamed, and he always treated me with respect. Like a man.” Santi glances at me. “Paid me more than a fair wage for what I did, and Elio, the cook, fed me and sent me home with food every day. I’d sneak it into the barn before my uncle got home from work, and my little brother and I would eat good. At the end of the harvest, my aunt and uncle moved away, and Nino and I went to live with Elio and his family. No one ever beat me again.” He puts his foot down, and strides over to the thermos with a proud gait. “I would do anything forSenhorAntonio,” he says, pouring himself more coffee.
Santi and his brother, and then Rafael. Maybe there are others.Antonio Huntsman, protector of the lost boys.
“I owe him my life, and my brother’s. I doubt we’d still be alive if it weren’t for him. I know my uncle wouldn’t be.”
Somehow I don’t think your uncle’s still roaming the earth.
“Antonio trusts you, Santi. That’s why he assigned you to be Valentina’s guard, and my shooting instructor.”
“Do you trust me?” He studies me, carefully. It’s an honest question and it deserves an honest answer.
“I was hesitant about you at first. You’re a bit younger than the guards I’m used to.” I foolishly equated youth with inexperience. “But being around you for the last few days has changed my mind.”
“I’ll protect Valentina with my life,senhora. No one will harm a hair on her head as long as I’m breathing.”
It’s a heartfelt response, and I have no doubt she’ll be safe with him. “I have complete faith in you.”
“Time to get back to work,” he says, before I get too sappy for a tough guy like Santi.
I pick up the muffs and the gun, and trek over to the chalk mark on the ground. “Is this where Antonio’s guards train?”
Santi smirks. “No,senhora.This is where wives train. Remember to keep your knee pointed in the direction of the target, weight slightly forward. A little more,” he says, easing my lower back forward.
Boom!Even with the muffs on, I know the sound came from behind us.
Before I can react, Santi takes the gun out of my hands and steps in front of me.
49
DANIELA
Antonio.
Santi lowers the pistol immediately, and steps back.
My heart is racing.
Antonio tucks the gun into his waistband and takes long strides toward us. There must be a hundred yards of ground to cover, so it takes a bit of time for him to reach us.