“Carlos didn’t assign your room to anyone else. The men living in the house are guards, not guests.”
“Guards?” Lina asked sharply.
“Of course. Guards have lived in the house for years. You just haven’t noticed because you’re never here for more than a few hours before you take off for one of Philip’s grubby little digs.”
“Carlos must be as paranoid as Philip,” Lina said.
Celia shrugged. “The world has changed. Especially now. Every crazy in the world has come to the Yucatan to celebrate the destruction of the old and the coming of the new.” She looked at Hunter. “I do hope you aren’t one of those deluded souls?”
Hunter smiled.
Lina winced.
“No, ma’am,” he drawled in English. “Your beautiful daughter is all the lure this boy needs to come to the Yucatan. But Tulum sure did look crowded.”
“Idiots,” Celia said. “Chasing legends like village children after butterflies.” She turned toward one of the paths leading into the shadows. “Come, Mr. Johnston. You can settle in Casita Cenote while I take Lina to her room. After you have time to refresh yourself, dial three on the phone. Someone will come and bring you to the house.”
Lina didn’t object to the separate quarters. Casita Cenote was old, but better than the stable, which she’d bet was her mother’s first choice for Hunter. “I’ll show him the casita. I’m sure you’re busy juggling Abuelita’s celebration and a house full of guards.”
For a moment Hunter thought Lina’s mother would object to letting them out of her sight. Then Celia gave him directions to the casita and turned to her daughter.
“Come with me,” Celia said. “We have much to talk about and very little time together.”
Lina looked at Hunter, who smiled with a warmth that made her flush.
“No problem, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m good at finding my way around.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CELIA LOOKED UP AT THE YOUNG WOMAN WHO WAS SUCH a complicated mix of many cultures—Lina had the stunning facial structure of a female who could trace her royal Balam ancestors back six centuries, the height of her noble Spanish ancestors, and the tongue of an independent American woman.
All of it, thrown away.
“A gringo?” Celia demanded. “Is that how you repay your family? It is your duty to carry on the family line.”
“Me?” Lina said, shocked. “What about Cousin Carlos?”
“Fifteen years of marriage, remarriage, far too many mistresses—no children. As Americans put it so crudely, mi primo is shooting blanks. That leaves you.”
Lina didn’t know whether to laugh or wail.
The tight line of her mother’s jaw told Lina neither would get the job done. Same for the dutiful daughter routine. She was tired, tense, and repelled by being treated like a walking womb.
“The Reyes Balam family has married out of Mexico as often as it has married in,” Lina said.
“Aristocrats,” Celia said in a clipped voice.
“Really? Last time I checked, Philip was the son of two university professors. A gringo with no rich inheritance coming. You married him and you were only half my age at the time. The world kept turning. Your parents survived having an ordinary gringo in the family just fine.”
“You will not speak to me with such disrespect!”
“Lies are disrespectful. I’m speaking the truth.”
“Are you pregnant?” Celia demanded.
Lina stared at her mother. “No.” Not yet, anyway.
“Then you have no excuse for embarrassing the family like this,” Celia said.
It took Lina about three seconds to understand what she’d always suspected was the truth of her parents’ marriage.
“I’m surprised your mother didn’t just send you to a convent to have me instead of marrying you off to Philip,” Lina said softly.
“Nobody knew Carlos was sterile,” Celia said with faint bitterness. “I was young and foolish. I wanted out of Tulum, out of the jungle, into a bigger world. I saw Philip as my entrée into that world. For all that he was thirteen years older, he was…naive. When I became pregnant, he offered marriage. We eloped.”
“And then you discovered that all Philip wanted in life was to dig in the jungles around Tulum,” Lina said, understanding more of her parents and their choices. “He wanted a world whose center was Reyes Balam lands. Maybe he wasn’t as naive as you thought.”
Celia’s nails flashed like blood as she waved her hand, dismissing the past. “I won’t let you repeat my mistake.”
“It’s my life, not yours.”
“Carlos is unhappy with you. He could make your life difficult.”
“In other words, do as he wishes or find myself out of a job.”
Celia bit her lower lip unhappily. “Please, Lina. Now is not a good time to push Carlos. Abuelita is becoming…difficult at times.”
“Difficult? How?”
“She is old, very old.”
“Are you saying that my great-grandmother is senile?” Lina asked.
“I—no, of course not. She is simply Abuelita.”
But Celia didn’t look Lina in the eye when she said it.
“Does she need specialized care?” Lina asked softly.
“Don’t even think it. Carlos won’t hear of it and Abuelita…no, the best thing is to simply…”
“Pretend that everything is fine?” Lina said.
Celia smiled despite the unease in her dark eyes. “Yes, that’s exactly right. I knew you would understand, dearest. We don’t contradict Abuelita. Carlos simply agrees and sees that things are as comfortable as possible for her.”
“Which makes things comfortable for you.”
“But of course. Abuelita will not live forever. It is little enough to do to make her last time pleasant.”
Lina felt the heat of tears stinging her eyes. Abuelita could be headstrong and demanding, but she was one of the few constants in the shifting landscape of Lina’s life.
As though sensing weakness, Celia bored in. “Mr. Johnston can’t comprehend your position in Mexico, your family obligations. Enjoy him—he certainly looks like he is built to be enjoyed—but don’t fool yourself into believing it is something it can’t be.”
For a moment Lina was too shocked to speak.
“Ah, little one, you look like you swallowed a live mouse,” Celia said, laughing without malice. “We are women, yes? Sex is something we use. We don’t let it use us. So go, sneak out to the casita in the night and roll around in the darkness with your gringo lover. But be in your own bed before dawn, ready to pay Abuelita and Carlos the respect they are due, and to be the Reyes Balam woman you were meant to be.”
“Or at least pretend to be that woman?”
Celia smiled and hugged her daughter. “I knew you would understand. Once Abuelita is dead, things will change. Carlos is a man of the world.”
When her mother released her, Lina said, “As long as you understand that Hunter will be treated as a guest while he is here. If you insult him, we will leave. Please tell your cousin.”
“Abuelita won’t—”
“Abuelita has the excuse of age,” Lina cut in. “You don’t. Carlos doesn’t. Philip is rude to everybody, so he’ll just be treating Hunter like one of the family.”
There was a long silence while Celia digested the change in her daughter. She had always wondered what it would take for Lina to dig in and demand respect as an adult.
Now Celia knew. She couldn’t say she was relishing it. It had been much easier when Lina had been eager to please.
“How long will you be staying?” Celia asked finally.
“How long can everyone be civil to Hunter?” Lina asked in return.
Her mother nodded tightly. “Abuelita will expect to see you, and your guest.”