the honorable thing to do, but because he loved her.
Maybe he was a better actor than she’d given him credit for.
Or maybe she’d just talked herself into it. After all, if Cruz did love her, would he be using the ranch as an excuse to be away from her except for a few hours a day? Would he be so caught up in his horses that he didn’t have any time to spare for her or the child he’d given his name to?
Cruz had been extremely fussy when it came to hiring men to work on his ranch. Right now they had three very capable hands, two who lived on the property in a mobile trailer Cruz’s parents had given them. Men he’d told her he relied on.
So why wasn’t he delegating any responsibility to them? Why did he have to be personally involved in every single tiny aspect of running the ranch? He was so completely hands-on. From the feeding and handling of the horses right down to the maintenance of the fences that kept his herd of twenty-five within the five-hundred-acre ranch, he was there for everything.
First one up, last one down.
It was as if he had something to prove. Over and over again, every day. As if he was the last man hired instead of the one who handed out the paychecks.
Despite the summer heat, which was still stifling in the early-morning hours, Savannah poured hot water over the tea bag she’d plunked into her cup. Maybe tea would help soothe her stomach, although she didn’t hold out much hope.
She took the cup back to the table, hoping to pull herself together before Luke bounced out of bed.
Clutching the cup with both hands, she brought it to her lips and blew before taking the smallest sip and letting the liquid wind down into her stomach.
Granted, she’d known when she married Cruz that he would never be a gentleman rancher. That he wouldn’t be just marginally involved in the day-to-day activities but would plunge into them, full steam ahead. That was what she loved about him—that he could get involved with something wholeheartedly.
She just never thought that it would ultimately be to the exclusion of her and their child.
Cruz had been a horse whisperer when she’d first met him, a man who had an almost uncanny affinity for the animals he trained. He could take a horse with a broken spirit, a horse that seemed infused with the very devil himself, and somehow find a way to reach the animal. To form a bond and communicate with it until that animal had completely transformed into a horse that could be trained, managed. A horse that any owner would be proud to have.
First Cruz would breach the chasm, then became one with the horse, and the horse would become one with him. It was a thing of beauty to watch.
But now it seemed that he had thrown her over for the horses.
The horses and everything that went with them. The care, the cleaning, the feeding and the mucking out of the stalls, every aspect of the animals’ lives came before sharing time with his family.
And she hadn’t a clue how to change that.
Savannah felt tears stinging her eyes. How had she lost him?
Why didn’t he love her as he used to?
She thought of the tiny moment they’d shared just before he’d left. The old Cruz was still in there somewhere. She just needed to find a way to bring him out again.
To have him want her again.
Savannah glanced at her reflection in the darkened window just above the sink as the first rays of dawn began to materialize along the horizon. She turned sideways, critically studying herself. Her body wasn’t misshapen yet.
Maybe she could seduce him.
A hopeful smile curved her lips. The idea had merit.
Three
T he second Savannah finished making the last of the new entries into the computer program she used to track La Esperanza’s expenses, she saved the data and turned off her computer.
Closing the laptop, she turned toward her son, who was still very enamored with the action figures Vanessa had given him yesterday. Both monster and monster eradicator were making awful noises, courtesy of Luke. Any other time it might have been enough to get a bad headache rolling in Savannah’s skull.
But not today. She had a plan to get rolling instead. And a marriage to get back on track.
Glancing at Luke, she saw that he was perched on top of the sofa, a figure in each hand. Obviously the fantasy he was acting out had taken the two characters and their orchestrator up to the top of some mountain.
“You know the rules, Luke,” she called out to him. “No flying off the sofa.”
Clutching his figures to him, he pushed out his bottom lip. “Aw, Mama.”
She gave him her best no-nonsense look. “No ‘aw, Mama.’ Down, mister.”
Luke scooted his bottom down along the upholstery, then scrambled off the cushion. Before she could blink, he was on the floor, using the massive coffee table as a new battlefield.
Satisfied that Luke was safe for a nanosecond, she picked up the receiver and dialed Rosita’s home phone. Her mother-in-law was always her first choice when it came to Luke. The woman and her husband doted on the boy. If, by some wild chance, Rosita and Ruben were busy tonight, she knew she could always fall back on any one of her four sisters-in-law, or Vanessa, for that matter. Luke felt equally comfortable with all of them.
Tonight, Savannah decided, her firstborn was going to be sleeping in a bed other than his own. And she was going to reclaim what was rightfully hers.
Theirs, she amended, as she listened to the phone on the other end ringing. Because Cruz had been happy once, too. Happy making love with her. Happy with just loving her, the way she did him.
All married couples went through doldrums, Savannah told herself as she silently counted off the number of times the phone rang. Discord was only natural. It was up to her to see that they carved out a little island of time for themselves, recharged their batteries, so to speak.
It wasn’t that she had less to do than Cruz. In her own way, she firmly believed that she had just as much if not more to do than the man she’d promised to give her love to for all eternity. He had the ranch to run, she had everything else to run. The house, the books, their son and any emergency that might come up.
But then, women were far more resilient than their male counterparts and capable of multitasking on top of that. Ordinarily she was that way herself, when she wasn’t pregnant. Lately, though, she kept flagging, as if she couldn’t hang on to her energy for more than a few minutes at a time.
She didn’t remember being this exhausted when she was carrying Luke.
The phone on the other end was finally picked up. She straightened, eager to set her plan in motion.
“Hello, Mama?” The woman had insisted that she call her Mama after the wedding, and in truth, Savannah felt closer to Rosita than she ever had to her own mother. The name rolled easily from her tongue.
“Savannah?” There was immediate
