the headset. “Welcome to Hatch.”
Both doors were flung open from the outside and two young men, bearing a strong resemblance to Duncan, peered in at them.
“Come on, he’s waiting for you.”
Rebel smiled as she stepped out onto solid ground again.
“Rebel, these are my nephews, Jake and Judd,” Duncan said as he introduced them. They rode in a golf cart on a dirt track that paralleled a field of chili. In minutes, they approached a huge, two-story home that reminded her of pictures she’d seen of historic old Mexico. Beautiful, traditional and exotic.
“There he is.”
Rebel noticed a hunched-over old man standing on the porch. He raised a hand, and she waved back, though she knew he couldn’t see her. The old man appeared to lean on something, and she thought it might be a cane or a walker. With the sun bright overhead, she shaded her eyes with one hand and as they neared the house she realized she’d fallen victim to a trick of light and shadow.
The man was six feet tall and as robust as she could imagine any ninety-year-old could be. Duncan had said he was impressive, and Rebel believed him. The cart stopped at the edge of the patio, and Duncan stepped out, then offered a hand to assist her. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” Rebel said, and straightened her spine. “I’ve taken on many patients his age. I can handle him.” A snort erupted from one of the nephews in the front seat, but Rebel didn’t know which one.
Duncan walked beside Rebel with anticipation humming through him. He didn’t really know why. They weren’t a couple, they weren’t even dating. The last time he’d introduced a woman to his grandfather it had ended in disaster. The man had seen right through her and had made no bones about what he thought of her.
They’d broken up the next day.
“So this is the lady friend you were tellin’ me about?” he asked, and stepped forward.
“Yes. Allow me to introduce my friend and a nurse, Rebel Taylor. Rebel, this is my grandfather, Rafael McFee, current owner of this impressive empire.”
Rafael held his hand out to Rebel, and she didn’t know whether to shake it or curtsy, so she went with a firm grip. She’d seriously have to amend her mistaken assumption he was going to be elderly, frail and cute. This man was anything but, and she could see how Duncan had inherited his strong, commanding presence and control.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Duncan has mentioned you several times.” She hoped that was okay.
Without releasing her hand, he gave Duncan a narrow-eyed look. “I’ll bet he did.” His accent was soft with a mixture of Spanish and Scottish inflections. Rafael tucked her hand into his elbow and led the way to an outdoor patio, a portál, if she remembered correctly. “Did he tell you I chased off his last girlfriend?”
Rebel gave a panicked look at Duncan’s enigmatic expression, then returned it to Rafael. “No. No, he didn’t. But as I’m not his girlfriend, I don’t have to worry about you chasing me off, do I?”
“Well, there’s still the matter of you walking into my home brazenly displaying the colors of a rival clan, now, isn’t there?”
Rebel laughed and patted him on the arm. “Now, that’s a whole other issue.”
They settled at a large wooden table with chairs made of wood and cowhide, and an older Hispanic woman emerged from inside, carrying a tray of iced tea. She didn’t have the manner of a hired member of staff, but carried herself as if she had been around this family for a long, long time.
“I’m Lupe, and I run this madhouse,” she said, then turned to Rebel. “Now, be on your best manner.”
Rebel raised her brows and Duncan said, “She’s talking to him, not us.”
“Oh.” She paused. “Oh! So you’ve made a habit of misbehavior, have you?” Rebel asked, innocently setting her chin on her hand and looking right at Rafael.
Duncan tilted back in his chair and roared out a laugh. “I knew this was going to be fun.”
The scowl on Rafael’s face should have made her cringe, but she only smiled, comforted by Duncan’s relaxed demeanor. He was right. It was fun.
“So, tell me, why aren’t you dating my grandson? Don’t tell me he’s not good enough for you either.” Rafael turned to face Duncan. “Don’t tell me she’s like that last one. Only seeing dollar signs.” He paused, thinking. “Or was that the one before that? The last one didn’t make it to the altar either.” He slapped his hand on the table and Rebel jumped. “Dammit, Duncan. You’re supposed to find a woman you can make babies with. I want to make sure my favorite grandson has his life in order before I die.” The scowl on his face was enough to make anyone cringe, but Duncan hardly looked disturbed.
Duncan snorted and reached out to take Rebel’s hand for a second. “That’s about enough of the grilling.” He leaned forward, getting into Rafael’s face. “And I’ve never been your favorite grandson.”
“Duncan certainly is a fine doctor and a fine man, but the fact is I don’t date. It has nothing to do with him.” There. She said it out aloud, and she hadn’t been struck by lightning. She looked overhead. It could still happen. Looked like thunderheads were coming their way. Outrageously huge ones, racing across the horizon.
“Why not?” The frown grew even more fierce. “Don’t you like men?”
“I like men just fine.” She glanced down and fiddled with her glass. “Things just haven’t worked out that way for me. So I’ve decided to let go of that part of my life.”
“Why? There must be something wrong with the men you’re picking, then.”
“Yes. Well.” Rebel’s insides tightened a bit, not wanting to get into her tragic family history the second they arrived, but it seemed they were on the edge of it.
“Seriously, Rafael. Enough.” Duncan defended Rebel. She didn’t need that sort of treatment. “Rebel’s decisions are her own and it’s not for us to pry. She hasn’t even had a cup of coffee, and you’re jumping down her throat.”
“It’s not natural, that’s for sure,” Rafael said, and eased back into his chair.
“If I’ve offended you, sir, I apologize, but, as Duncan says, this is my own business.” She stood and wrapped the plaid around her shoulders as if it would protect her. “You’ll have to excuse me for a while,” she said, and walked away from the table, back out the gate they’d entered and away from the house. Where she was going, she didn’t know, but she needed a breather. Now.
Her strides lengthened until she was almost running away from the house. If she’d worn better shoes, she would have raced, but her flats weren’t designed for that. And there were too many rocks and stickers on the road.
Minutes later she heard the crunch of tires on the dirt, but no engine. She kept going, not looking behind her. It was probably one of the field workers she’d seen, and she wrapped her tartan around her shoulders tightly. Certainly wouldn’t be Duncan chasing after her. He wasn’t the kind to chase.
“Rebel,
