walked around the desk and lowered himself into a comfortable brown leather chair. After adjusting his cuffs, he brought his hands together in the center of the desk and simply looked at her.
For a moment Lori could do nothing but look back, taking in the rugged contours of his face. Just short of rawboned with a high forehead, square jaw and chin, prominent cheekbones and a neat, slightly jutting brow over deeply set eyes, a nose neither too long nor short and lips neither too full nor spare, his was a compelling visage.
Lori fought the urge to smooth her hair again by tucking one side behind her ear. She was not here to impress anyone with her own bland looks; she was here to make Ramon Estes see reason, and through him, hopefully, his client. She opened her mouth and, without preamble, began to speak, laying out the first of her well-rehearsed arguments.
“I am twenty-seven years old.”
The black slashes of his eyebrows shot upward, telling her how very abrupt the statement had sounded. Grimacing inwardly, she watched him lean back into his chair and wave a languid hand, each movement controlled and calculated.
“And I am thirty-two. Now that we have established ages, I expect you will come to the point.”
Lori rolled her eyes. “The point is, I have a full decade on Yesenia Diaz. She is only a senior in high school, while I am a mature woman well established in my career as a reporter.”
Ramon fixed Lori with a gaze that, though intense, gave away nothing. “My abuela was but eighteen when she gave birth to my mother, and she turned out well. In fact, I know of no finer woman than my own mother.” He had made his point. Age would not be an issue in this; he would not allow it.
Words tumbled out of Lori’s mouth without forethought. “At least your grandmother was married to your abeulo,” she snapped, letting him know that she could claim a little Spanish, at least.
He tilted his head, retorting dryly, “Congratulations. I was unaware that you had married.”
“Of course I haven’t!”
“Then, I fail to see how Yesenia’s marital status applies. That was your implication, wasn’t it?”
Lori bit down on her tongue, determined to be more circumspect in her comments. “I—I only meant that at her young age your grandmother must have been especially grateful for the help of your grandfather.”
Ramon smiled that blinding white smile of his. “No doubt. As Yesenia is grateful for the help of her family.”
Lori caught her breath. “I—I thought they were unsupportive.”
“So did Yesenia. Otherwise she would not have acted so rashly in giving up her child. But such is not the case. The Reynaldas are most supportive.”
“I see.” Lori bit her lip.
He sat forward suddenly, brushing back the sides of his coat and bracing his elbows against the desktop. “How much do you know about Yesenia’s situation?”
“I—I know that she lives with her aunt and uncle.”
Ramon nodded. “Her aunt, Maria Reynalda, is the sister of Yesenia’s mother. Both of Yesenia’s parents and her baby brother were killed when the bus they were riding in took a curb too sharply and tumbled down a ravine in central Mexico. Yesenia was eleven years old. She lived essentially on the streets of her small village for some months, spending a night here, a night there, catching a meal with whatever neighbor could afford to share with her, until word of the tragedy made its way here to the Reynalda household in the U.S.”
Lori closed her eyes, horrified by what she was hearing. She, too, had been orphaned and at an age even younger than Yesenia, but at least the state had stepped in to make provision for her, such as it had been.
“I didn’t know how Yesenia came to be here or why,” Lori admitted softly. “There was no reason why I should. One moment I was talking to your sister and the next Yesenia thrust this perfect little darling into my arms. It seemed meant to be, ordained.”
In fact, when her editor had assigned her to take over the series of stories about the Tiny Blessings Adoption Agency for the newspaper, Lori had been silently ambivalent. Tiny Blessings and the scandals revealed by the murder of its founder, Barnaby Harcourt, the previous year, were old news. Besides, the new series of personal stories was the brainchild of Jared Kierney, the unofficial star reporter at the Richmond Gazette, so he should have been the one sitting there interviewing Pilar when Yesenia had burst into the room. Instead, Jared had been called out of town to cover a major mining accident in the southwestern corner of the state, so it had been Lori there that day when Yesenia Diaz had interrupted her interview with Pilar to tearfully surrender her newborn infant.
Lori had been certain in that moment that God had put her in that place at that time for a reason. All of her life Lori had craved a family of her own, and after she’d impulsively blurted out her desire to adopt Lucia herself, Pilar had calmly laughed and turned the tables. Suddenly the reporter had been the one being interviewed!
Despite being single, within seventy-two hours Lori had been certified as a foster parent and taken her unofficial daughter home. In a twinkling, all the years that she’d spent in foster care had made sense. Adopting Lucia seemed fated by God, preordained—but apparently not to Ramon Estes.
He shrugged. “You were closest. It was that simple. Yesenia sought out Pilar because she felt she could trust her, and when she saw you there, she thought you must be a coworker.”
Lori shook her head. “I don’t believe it was nothing more than chance! Lucia belongs with me. I know it in my heart. And I can give her a good home.” She ticked off all the reasons this was so. “True, my apartment is small, but it’s more than comfortable for the two of us, and when she needs more room, I’m sure I’ll be able to afford it. My work hours are flexible. I have a wonderful sitter coming in.”
“She belongs with her mother,” Ramon stated flatly.
“But Lucia has been with me for three months! I am the only mother she’s ever known. I couldn’t love her more if I’d given birth to her myself!”
Ramon pressed his temples with the thumb and forefinger of one hand as if she’d tried his patience. “No one doubts that, I’m sure, but the fact remains that you did not give birth to her, and the young woman who did deserves a chance to raise her daughter herself.”
“Yesenia isn’t even out of high school!”
“She’s in her last year, and the Reynaldas will see to it that she graduates. Many young mothers begin with less.”
Lori snatched a deep breath and steeled herself to make what seemed to her to be her best argument.
Pilar had apologetically confessed to Lori that Ramon had taken the custody case primarily because Yesenia was an illegal alien. Surely, despite the tragic circumstances that had brought her to this country, Yesenia did not want her status known.
“And if Yesenia is deported?” Lori asked, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice. “What then?”
Ramon stiffened. “Are you threatening to turn her in to Immigration?”
“I’m only asking who would support her and her child if she has to return to Mexico?
