to think Anne-Marie wasn’t what she appeared to be, either.
“Why not?” he asked. “You don’t have the confidence to compete?”
She started to take offense at his question, before she realized he was asking it sincerely.
“Well, I’m not timid,” she answered. “And I’m sure I could get my riding skills sharpened fairly quickly. But that’s not the issue. I have…other plans that have nothing to do with horses.”
“Apparently your father doesn’t know about your ‘other’ plans.”
Her mouth pressed into a grim line. “Oh yes, he does. But he’s the persistent type. He’ll never give up on the idea of me following his wishes instead of mine.”
Cordero couldn’t help but wonder if her “other” plans had anything to do with a man. But he quickly told himself to forget the question. Anne-Marie wasn’t the modern, free-spirited sort. She was the picture of old-fashioned family values. She’d even wanted to enter a convent! If she ever did decide to get involved with a man, it would be with marriage in mind. And matrimony, with any woman, was not part of Cordero’s plans. He’d seen too much loss, too much heartache, in his family to risk putting himself through such pain.
Seven years ago, his brother’s wife had died in a tragic riding accident, then Cordero’s mother had died from health problems in the very same year, leaving their father a grieving husband. After that, Cordero had helplessly watched both men struggle to deal with the emptiness. He’d vowed then that he wouldn’t suffer like that. Love just wasn’t worth the heartache. Since that time he’d stuck to his promise.
In a matter of moments, the outskirts of town appeared and Anne-Marie gave Cordero directions to the hospital. Since the small town was easy to navigate, they were soon entering the building and riding the elevator up to her father’s room.
“Does your father know we’re coming?” he asked as they made their way down a long corridor.
“I promised I’d get you here as soon as we got the horses settled. I’m sure he’s expecting us at any time.” She regarded him thoughtfully. “I hope being in a hospital doesn’t upset you. Some people can’t deal with illness and death. If you’re uncomfortable just tell me and we’ll make the visit as short as we can.”
Cordero shook his head. “I don’t look at a hospital as a bad place to be. My father just went through a very serious operation. He was paralyzed, now he’s almost back to normal. I thank God for these places.”
She seemed surprised by his comment, but then she quickly smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way, Cordero.”
The way she said his name, with that Cajun lilt, did something to him. Each time it rolled past her lips, he felt his stomach turn over. He couldn’t imagine what it would do to him if she whispered in his ear, murmuring his name with longing.
“Here it is,” she said, gesturing toward the next door to their right.
Her announcement jolted him out of the half trance he’d sunk into. As the two of them entered the hospital room, he cleared his throat and lifted his hat from his head.
The small space was typical of a hospital. The spare utilitarian bed was raised at the head, while a television with the sound muted was mounted to the ceiling in one corner of the room. Jules Duveuil, dressed in a thin maroon robe over matching pajamas, was sitting in a padded vinyl chair with his feet propped on a foot-stool. Small reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, while the front section of the Times-Picayune was on his lap. He had thick gray hair and a slim, aristocratic face. Cordero never had been good at guessing people’s ages, but he figured Anne-Marie’s father had passed seventy and then some. His condition couldn’t be terribly serious, Cordero hoped, because he wasn’t hooked up to an IV or oxygen.
The moment Jules spotted the two of them, his face brightened and he smiled with pleasure.
“Finally! I’ve been expecting you all evening,” he exclaimed.
Quickly leaving Cordero’s side, Anne-Marie kissed her father’s wrinkled cheek.
“I’m sorry. It took us a while to get the horses settled.” Rising to her full height, she gestured toward Cordero. “Mr. Sanchez was sorry to hear you were in the hospital.”
“Forget the Mr. Sanchez thing. I know him by Cordero.” Grinning broadly, Jules extended his hand. “Glad you’re finally here, son. Thank you for coming.”
Cordero walked over to Jules and gave the older man’s hand a firm shake. “No thanks necessary. I just hope you’re feeling better.”
Jules batted a hand at the air in a dismissive gesture. “Oh, it’s nothing really. I think the doctor’s have decided they can’t kill me with the stuff they’ve been making me swallow so they’re trying something new.”
Anne-Marie rolled her eyes and groaned. “Oh, Father, don’t make a joke about your health.”
Jules shot Cordero a conspiring wink before he said to his daughter. “Honey, we’re all mortal. It’s not something we can change or buy our way out of. When my time comes, nothing, especially all this fretting you’re doing, will stop it and neither can these know-it-all doctors. The best a person can do is to have fun until you reach that time.”
“Jules, I couldn’t have said that any better,” Cordero replied with a grin.
His blue eyes twinkling, Jules cast his daughter a smug smile. “See, my young friend knows a little about life.” He gave Cordero an appreciative look. “I want to thank you again for all the trouble you’ve taken by bringing my horses home. How did they make the trip?”
“Fine, Jules. No problems. We put them in the round pen for tonight so they could get a little exercise. Were you planning to keep them stalled or put them out to pasture?”
Jules looked at his daughter with mild surprise. “You didn’t show him the trap?”
Anne-Marie looked as though she wanted to sigh with frustration. Maybe the two of them had quarreled openly about the purchase of the horses. She’d already admitted that she wasn’t keen on Jules’s idea that she should ride competitively. The last thing Cordero wanted was to get in the middle of a family squabble.
“No,” she said. “I didn’t go into all of that. Mr. Sanchez, uh, Cordero arrived rather late. I’ll show him the area tomorrow and see if he thinks it will be adequate. She looked at Cordero and quickly explained. “The trap Father is talking about is a small, two-acre pasture not far from the stables.”
Cordero nodded. “I’ll look it over before I leave tomorrow.”
Jules began to splutter. “Leave? You’re not planning on leaving tomorrow, are you?”
Trying not to feel guilty, Cordero said, “Well, yes. Now that you’re laid up in the hospital, we can’t go to that horse sale up in Bossier City or do the other things we’d planned to do. I need to get out of the way and let you get well.”
His lips compressed with disapproval, Jules motioned for Anne-Marie to fetch the empty plastic chair sitting near the head of the bed. “Get our guest a seat,” he said.
Cordero grabbed the chair before Anne-Marie
