How to Marry a Matador (Exclusive Sneak Preview) by Ginny Baird Read Free Book Online

her
husband, Ernesto, had planned a large family. “Six children at
least,” he’d said, the setting sun warming his eyes. He’d taken
her in his arms and kissed her in a way that had melted her heart
and weakened her knees. While her mother had warned her of the responsibilities of a honeymoon, she’d never imagined she’d
enjoy taking to the task so much.
    When Ernesto died at forty-nine, Ana María
had been just thirty-three. Fernando was eight and Margarita barely
four. There was time for one or two more, at least. But time ran
out on them far earlier than either of them intended. Ana María
cast a sad gaze to the window, watching as dusk settled over the
hacienda. She heard horses approaching from afar and knew it was
Fernando and Jessica returning from their ride. Even if Jessica was
experienced with horses, Fernando should have known better than to
take the chance. Ana María held the small gown to her chest,
realizing she’d never actually considered how it might feel to be a
grandmother. Jessica certainly was beautiful, and, if she worked in
Fernando’s business, obviously smart. But what of her family? Her
background?
    The Garcia de la Vegas could trace their
ancestry back seven generations—on both sides. Americans weren’t
like that. Most of them were divorced and had no concept of family
beyond the immediate. Even many of the closest relatives remained
estranged, according to what Ana María had gathered from her
perusal of the papers and study of American media. But if Fernando
loved her… Ana María felt a lump in her throat. Who was she to deny
true love, if this was real? Her parents hadn’t exactly been
pleased she’d selected a matador as a groom. And yet they’d
eventually come around, blessing them both with a lavish wedding
and the gift of this ranch. Ana María had been raised here with her
two brothers, neither of whom had survived to adulthood. Life was
cruel that way, taking away the people you loved.
    Ana María wiped her brow with the back of her
arm, scolding herself for becoming sentimental. Sentimentality was
a weakness reserved for those able to afford it. She carefully
folded the baptismal gown, tucking it back in its nest. Though
she’d never weighed it concretely, she knew Fernando would make a
marvelous father. There was a man who understood the value of
family and stuck by them. He’d been so good to her and to his
sister Margarita. Ana María couldn’t imagine him lavishing anything
but undying affection on the woman he’d picked as his bride, and
any offspring they produced.
    Ana María heard the heavy door swing shut
downstairs and felt an instant wave of shame. Though she’d been
cordial enough at lunch, she hadn’t precisely proved the welcoming
mother-in-law . After all he’d done for her, who was she to
doubt Fernando’s judgment? But…an American from Brooklyn! Ay. Ana María sighed heavily and closed the hope chest,
securing it shut with its sculpted key. At least Fernando was
moving forward, she supposed. Margarita, in her fancy flat in
Barcelona, didn’t even have a boyfriend.
     
     
    Fernando entered the foyer and dropped his
satchel with a petulant scowl, Jessica trailing in his wake.
    “Did you have a nice time?” Ana María asked
as he breezed past her and headed for the study. Moments later, she
heard the clattering of Waterford crystal and knew he was pouring
himself a scotch from the family decanter. She and Jessica startled
as the study door snapped shut.
    “I think I’m going to lie down,” Jessica
said, appearing a bit disheveled. Her hair was tousled from the
wind, her complexion lightly flushed. Her blue eyes were cloudy and
troubled.
    “Are you all right?” Ana María inquired.
    Jessica blinked, then stared at her, her
color deepening.
    “It was just a bit of a ride.”
    “I knew Fernando shouldn’t have—”
    “No, please,” Jessica interrupted. “It’s
okay. It’s not that I’m sick or anything. Just tired.”
    Ana María