Blossoming Flower (Wildflowers Book 1) Page 5

  She shakes her head vigorously. “Not at all. I’m sure working will help.”

  “Alright then. Gary gave you a thorough tour I’m sure. Is there anything else you need to know?”

  Tell me about your son, Flor wants to say. Her thoughts begin to wander. I wonder if Collin is like them? She catches the couple staring at her, waiting for her response, and quickly comes back to the present.

  “What time do I start in the morning?”

  “Breakfast is served at 5 a.m. in the kitchen at the boardinghouse. You are welcome to eat here or there, whichever you prefer.” Gary leans forward. “At least there they have real sausages, not the tofu kind you’ll get here.”

  Marjorie shakes her head. “We meant to stock your fridge but thought you might prefer to do it yourself. Gary can take you into town to do some shopping this weekend. There’s a wonderful outdoor market on Saturdays.”

  “That sounds perfect,” Flor replies.

  “Then pretty much everyone gets going around 5:30.”

  Will Collin be there? Flor resists asking.

  “Since you’re interested in equine medicine, we thought you might work with Paco tomorrow. There are a few mares in estrus. He’ll show you how to check them and what to look for.”

  “What time do I meet him?” Flor asks, a warm feeling spreading through her as she recalls the way he had looked at her. It made her feel sexy and powerful to desire and to sense his desire. The fact that he’s from Argentina doesn’t turn Flor off the way it would most Brazilians, considering the deep-seated rivalry they tend to have between the two countries. Having been away for so long, she rejects the inherent prejudice.

  “Paco keeps his own schedule.” Again Gary doesn’t bother to hide his feelings for the man. “You should check for him out at the stables around 7.”

  Majorie rubs Gary’s back. “He’s a fine person, hon.” Then turning to Flor she explains, “Gary just misses working with his father. Francisco Sr. was an avid fisherman like my husband. They’d spend hours up at that creek.”

  “Arrogant is what his son is,” Gary declares.

  “That’s usually the word to describe most Argentinians.” Flor says diplomatically. “I’m sure I have a lot to learn from him.”

  Chapter 13

  Eating at the boardinghouse reminds Flor of dining at Belle Grove, except everyone around her is male instead of female. That is except for one old woman, who looks to be in her seventies and runs the place, ordering two cooks around in clipped Spanish. She must be the third woman Poppy mentioned, Flor figures as she helps herself to some scrambled eggs.

  Chafing dishes with two types of eggs, sausages and waffles are lined up on a long counter. Cold fruit, juices and cereals are set next to the plates and silverware. The spread is like a simple hotel buffet or college dining hall meal and not wholly unlike them in décor, definitely not as nice as the stables. A dozen bench tables are spread out, and from what Flor can tell, there’s clearly a hierarchy among the men who eat in groups of three or four. Her ears perk up when she hears Portuguese among the voices speaking Spanish and English.

  Flor slips into a corner at an empty table so she can watch the room. A few of the men glance in her direction, but say nothing. There are about forty men, give or take, since some trickled in and out as she ate her breakfast. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Collin, sitting alone at a table in the far corner. No one looks his way or bothers to speak to him. He appears completely focused on his food, but she can see that he’s thinking or concentrating on something. Perhaps it’s the stallion he was working with yesterday. He has until today to break him. Deep down, she hopes he wins the bet against Paco. Tame his Argentinian arrogance. Arrogant perhaps, but undeniably attractive in so many ways, she thinks to herself. How is she supposed to get through the day working with him?

  “I’m impressed you’re able to eat the food,” Paco comments, approaching her with a cup of hot coffee in his hand.

  “It’s alright,” Flor replies, taking a small bite of the eggs. The food at Belle Grove wasn’t much better, and it’s not as if there are a lot of other options. Besides, she’s learned to appreciate a free meal where she can get it.

  “I learned my lesson after staying out at the boardinghouse my first season. I rent a place about five kilometers from here.” He straddles the bench she’s sitting on, forcing her to turn to talk to him. “Where are you staying?”

  “Here on the property.” She spies Collin getting up to leave. For a moment she thinks she might have caught his eye, but maybe not.

  Paco takes a sip of coffee and makes a face. “Every time my father would come home after spending a few months here, he was a changed person, happy and content. I imagined it being a magical place.”

  “Less so now that you’ve experienced it for yourself?” Flor asks, finishing her glass of orange juice.

  “Most things are never as good as you imagine them to be.” His eyes leave Flor’s face and rake over her body. “But if you’re lucky, they’re even better.”

  The young woman shifts a bit in her seat. He’s unlike any man she’s ever met. Probably because compared to Paco, the only guys she’s been with were boys. His direct manner, incredible good looks and obvious intelligence are both overwhelming and appealing. Everything about him is challenging to her, and she can’t help but want to take on that challenge, prove that she can be his equal.

  That’s the game though, she reminds herself, looking away from Paco momentarily. Men like him want you to want to prove your worth, so you feel special when they choose you. So stupidly cliché, yet she’s aware of herself walking right into the trap. Maybe she should know better, but who can blame her? What’s pride if you can claim a man like him, even just once? She wonders.

  Flor swirls the remnants of the bitter coffee in her cup. If it’s one thing she misses about Brazil, it’s the coffee. All at once, she’s overtaken by a longing to be home, in familiar surroundings. This strange place, and the man who’s presenting something new but somehow dangerous, is almost as frightening as it is attractive. A part of her wishes to be in the safe womb of a place called home. But at this very moment, she has to admit, it doesn’t exist for her anymore. Wherever she is at the present is home, and that’s Belo Horizonte. That thought immediately fills her with a lonely feeling, a hole inside her being. She remembers the similar feeling when she arrived at Belle Grove, every bit the foreigner and an outsider.

  It had been books that filled that void for her. Thanks to an American Literature class her first year, Wharton and James had taken their place next to Zola and Balzac on her bookshelf. Their words took root inside that empty space and formed a different reality for her, one that allows her to forget—at least temporarily— her father’s failures, her mother’s narcissicism and her brother’s withdrawal from their world in his effort to escape it all. The books gave her a window into other worlds and lifetimes that she could make her own whenever she wished. Her urge to escape her current situation is almost as strong as it was then, but now, a little bit older, and even more adventurous, she wants more from her present life.

  Flor clears her throat and turns her attention back to the Argentinian. “How old are you?” She asks.

  “Twenty-eight.” He smiles, enjoying her attention. “And you?”

  “Twenty-one,” she replies. “Where did you study?”

  “University of Florida. Would you like me to show you my CV? I’m sure I have a copy back at my place.” The blue in Paco’s eyes seem to shine.

  Even though she’s enjoying his playful side, Flor shakes her head, summoning every ounce of self-control she has. She had promised herself not to fall for him or anyone else this summer. She has too much to accomplish and will be at Smith soon enough. “Not yet. Besides, I don’t want to keep you from your work.” She stands and picks up her tray. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time.”

  Chapter 14

  The second stable is smaller than the first, but not by much
. The dark wood and iron interior are the same, although a large part of it is devoted to the veterinary facility.

  “With all this space, I’m surprised you don’t have a veterinarian on site,” Flor comments as she follows Paco along the patio.

  “There usually is, but Gary fired the last one and hasn’t been able to replace him, so they’ve been using the local one for now.”

  “What happened?”

  Paco shakes his head. “Could be anything with Gary. He’s demanding, but it’s because he knows these horses better than anyone I’ve met.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a bit hyperbole?” She asks, feeling a bit uncomfortable to hear him praising Gary since she knows the feeling isn’t mutual.

  “Not the way my father always talked about him. Look him up yourself. He’s been written about in numerous journals and magazines. He’s got quite a gift. Before he retired as a horse trainer, he was well-known among horse communities around the world. Even spent a lot of time in South America.”

  “Is his son the only trainer here?” Flor asks, trying to hide her curiosity about Collin.

  “Yup. He’s young though, so he doesn’t have the reputation his father did.” From Paco’s tone, it’s Collin that seems to rub him the wrong way, not Gary.

  The breeder unlocks the door to the veterinary office. “I’ve taken the space over until they bring in someone new.” The way he smiles at Flor tells her he knows it disarms her.

  “Did you ever think about becoming a vet?” She asks, trying to keep to a neutral topic. Working with him all day is not going to be easy.

  He immediately shakes his head. “No reason. I took a few classes, but it wasn’t enough to convince me it would be worth my time. I learned more from my father than I could’ve from any of my professors at school. Breeding is in our blood. There’s a lot to be said for what gets passed from parent to child, the knowledge, the memories. I couldn’t discount it if I tried.” Paco finally turns away from her, releasing whatever hypnotic hold his eyes and lips were having over Flor. He opens a closet door and removes his fleece over his head. She glimpses the sinew of his back muscles and looks away.

  “It gets really warm in the stable. We keep the mares under a lot of light to manipulate their estrus cycles.”

  Flor turns back to look at him. “Is that necessary?” She shakes her head and closes her jacket around her to indicate she doesn’t plan to take it off. For some reason, the thought of taking her clothes off near him, even an outerlayer, seems like too much undressing.

  He gives her another sly smile, probably thinking the same thing. “Mother nature rarely cooperates, Flor. In any case, it’s better than drugs.” Paco closes the door and heads toward the stalls. “Besides, the horses we breed here are very easy and manageable. The goal here is to keep an equilibrium among the horses so we don’t artificially inseminate unless it becomes necessary.”

  “What kind of . . . ?” Flor begins to ask but then stops as soon as they reach the stall. “Mangalarga Marchador,” she says under her breath.

  “You recognize the breed?” Paco asks, surprised. “There aren’t too many here in the States.”

  Flor nods, reaching out to stroke the mare’s neck. They’re the horses of her native Brazil and covered her family’s land. Marchadors are the only horses she ever rode until she bought Daisy, a Morgan horse, when she moved to Virginia. Her earliest childhood memory was of riding with her father when she was two. It was a memory that brought pure joy to her, and one she hadn’t allowed herself to recall in a long time.

  “I’ve ridden one once or twice before. I didn’t realize . . . .” Her voice drops. Seeing this beautiful horse rekindles a longing for home that began to creep into Flor earlier. Now it’s completely opened up the hole inside of her.

  Home. While a simple idea for some, for Flor, it’s an entirely foreign and complex notion that comes with so much baggage and stirs up a great deal of unhappiness within her. Seeing this magnificent creature reminds her of a place and time she considered home, of a piece of childhood happiness she hasn’t been able to connect to for over ten years.

  She suddenly feels sick. The kind of homesickness that doesn’t go away with time. Flor knows it’s because of the way she’s left things with her family, cutting everyone off, especially her father. It’s like remembering a limb that should be there after it’s been amputated. Family connected her to something larger and without it, she feels lost.

  Flor clears her throat. “They come from Brazil, right?” She asks, already knowing the answer.

  Paco nods. He notices a shift in her mood. “Yes. From what I understand, the original owner of the ranch brought them here in order to introduce them to the country. They’re superior to most of the common breeds you find here in the States.”

  “And your family specializes in breeding Marchadors?”

  He nods again. “As well as Criollo. It’s a specialty that’s paid off since you don’t find them in many places outside of Brazil.”

  Flor turns away and pats the horse, trying to calm her emotions around the creature. She continues to stroke her while processing the tumult within. She’s spent too much time avoiding these feelings that they threaten to overtake her.

  “I’m sorry, Paco. I need to go.”

  Chapter 15

  Nothing prepares you for betrayal. Absolutely nothing.

  For the rest of the morning, Flor wanders the house thinking these words, over and over. She generally prides herself on not showing much emotion and for keeping them properly contained as she was taught to do in boarding school. Never before had she experienced such an onslaught of emotions, as if everything she’d ever felt and blocked came rushing at her at once. It was too much for even her to control. She was already in tears by the time she reached her front gate, grateful no one saw her as she rushed home.

  Hours later, the tears have abated, but the hollow feeling in her chest remains. She wants to rail at her father and shake her mother. She wishes them both dead then immediately feels bad that the thought even occurred to her. She rages at having been born to such selfish parents. Flor picks up the phone to call her father, only to hang up before hitting the last digit, realizing she’s too upset to be coherent. What could she say anyway?

  The anger is still there, but the hurt is slowly replacing it, further opening that wound. While she was crying, it occurred to her that what she laments most is not knowing her parents at all. Instead, Flor realized she had loved the idea of them, the image of them they wanted her to have. She once read that eventually parents fall in the eyes of the child. It’s the process that comes with entering adulthood. But for Flor, they fell harder than she ever imagined, and it shattered her world.

  No, this time, there would be no parent to run to, no adult to help her overcome some disappointment or personal failure at school. This is all hers to deal with and piece back together—alone. While Flor thought she had been coping, the truth is that denial is not coping. She had simply tried to stem the feelings until the dam she’d built couldn’t hold them back anymore.

  And to almost have a breakdown in front of Paco! Flor would’ve felt humiliated if he’d seen her cry. She doesn’t want him to regard her as an immature girl. Not that Flor should care, but she wants him to find her as attractive as she finds him. That physical desire is too powerful for her to ignore.

  Numb and drained, Flor wanders into the library to look over the collection of books. Mostly classics, some of which appear to be first editions, along with travel books and poetry. She plucks a copy of Great Expectations off the shelf, its smooth, stiff spine showing it hasn’t yet been touched. Before she can open it, a chime sounds through the room, which Flor now recognizes as the bell at the gate.

  “Good to see you’re still around.” Paco crosses his arms and leans his left shoulder against the wall. His fitted t-shirt nearly makes Flor forget why she had to run home.

  “Yeah, sorry. I had an emergency.”

  “So ea
rly in the morning?” He asks, obviously not buying her excuse. “Must’ve been pretty urgent considering how fast you ran off.”

  “It was. But I worked it out.” She puts her hands in her pockets and shifts her weight from one foot to another.

  “Right, well, I’m glad you’re fine.”

  She nods. “Thanks.”

  “See you tomorrow then?” Paco turns to leave.

  “Yeah. Tomorrow.” Flor closes the gate behind him and breathes a sigh of relief. If he had asked to come in, she knows at that moment she would’ve allowed it.

  Chapter 16

  “She’s ready, don’t you think?” Paco asks Flor later that week. Ever since that awkward first day, he’s been distant with her, keeping things entirely professional, avoiding any personal talk. On the one hand, Flor welcomed the change. It made her comfortable to be around him and focus on the work. On the other, she felt as if she lost her chance to be with him. It made her wonder whether it was that she actually wanted him or whether she was merely responding to his perceptible attraction to her. After a few days, she decided it’s both. And with every passing hour in his presence, that desire is growing.

  “Have you introduced her to the stallion?” Flor asks.

  Paco gives her a look as if she should know better than to ask. “Of course, but we limited it. I’ve tested a few stallions, and he’s the right one for her for sure.”

  “Who is he?” Flor asks, following Paco out of the stable.

  He points to a horse out in a small paddock area to the right. “His name is Sublime. He was introduced to a band a couple of years ago and has sired fifteen foals. We already have three mares pregnant by him.” Paco turns back to the young Brazilian and winks. “He likes his women for sure.”

  That look alone was enough to make Flor’s stomach clench. He’s toying with her now.