Beyond a Dream

By Barbara J Duell

Lilianarose McKenna has lived her life with the same passion and
responsibility that brought her Spanish ancestors to the rich furtle land
by the Pacific Ocean in search of a new life over two centuries ago.

Bound to the land, the matriarch of her family and a world-
renowned portrait artist, Lili has everything except someone to love her.
She wants more; an itch she can’t scratch, not yet, so she’s put
aside her dreams, for now, but someday, maybe.

Charles Phillip Ashland, Earl of Ashbourne, inherited a title, a
dilapidated Manor near land’s end and nothing more, but he wants more.

He’s taken anger and determination and built an empire, acquiring more
wealth than he could spend in ten lifetimes. He has everything a
human could want, yet he has nothing that truly matters.

He succeeded in business but failed miserably as a father, but soon
he will have time to do better, to find and live his dream. Yes, soon.

From the quaint town of San Juan Capistrano, California to a small
village by the sea in Devon, England fate has set a course for two people
to find themselves, even though they have no idea they are lost, aided by
a handful of relatives, a village of eager helpers, and one very big, hairy
dog.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barbara J Duell
• Release date: May 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781734551419

Barbara J Duell

I married young, had four sons in four years, and started University. While wearing the hat of a stay-at-home mom at my all-male funny farm, I completed my postgraduate work. When the time came to cut the apron strings, I enter the corporate world. I spent several decades as CEO in the field of Medical Administration, and after retiring, took up the Law. I dealt primarily with Child Protective Services and Civil Rights and then joined the County Justice Court, served on the bench, and then retired, again.From an early age, reading has been my one constant, although I could not read, not actually. So I listened. It was not until middle school that I realized I was not stupid, just suffered from dyslexia but I kept trying because partnered with my desire to read was my passion for writing, which started as my unbridled imagination took flight. Simple tales spun from the depth of my spirit when I first learned to talk and told to all who would listen. Then I found a pencil and paper and learned to write, well, almost. No one could decipher what I scribbled, but I didn’t care; I just continued to dream and to write.I am part Cherokee, part Seneca; a nomad, and I seek the elusive shadow wind that calls my soul and carries me deep within the mystery of life. I have lived by the sea, high in the pine forest where I longed to soar with eagles; in a valley near the river’s edge next to God’s creatures. Now I live in the delicate land of the southwestern desert with my three small dogs who remind me each day how blessed we are.I welcome you to join me and my imagination on my Journey to Another Place.

Book preview

Chapter One

April

San Juan Capistrano

Lilianarose McKenna was not much of a drinker, especially at seven o’clock in the morning, but after a sleepless night, up and down, talking to herself at five in the morning in a cold shower, which didn’t help a bit, she decided she needed a drink. Lili poured Scotch into a glass filled with a couple of ice cubes, silently justifying her actions as medicinal. She curled up on the old sofa in her studio she’d refused to throw out and made a face as she sipped the strong amber liquid.

It was after ten o’clock when Lili had arrived home last night from an eight-week lecture tour that had taken her up and down the Pacific coast. Her mother had met her at the door, as usual. But Lili realized right away that something was different, and that Precious Rose McKenna was not her usual self. However, anyone with a name like Precious Rose was bound to be a little bit different.

Of course, she’s different, Lili said to the glass, just like Grandma. But different worked well for the women in her family, Lili told herself. She had lived with different all her life, and it was okay. Lili took another sip, this time without the pucker—just the realization that drinking Scotch before breakfast was not helping her current dilemma.

Her mother was getting married, and this revelation opened a book loaded with pages full of complicated issues, thus the need for alcohol at the crack of dawn.

Last night, right after Hello, but before a kiss, Precious had greeted her daughter with the news. Lili’s first reaction was a smile as she’d waited for her mother to deliver the punch line, to admit it was an April Fool’s joke, and that she had not lost the good sense she had lived by for sixty-four years. Next came disbelief as Precious slowly shook her head, and said, No.

It’s not a joke. I’m getting married in one month, and I need your help with the final planning. And she not only asked her daughter to stand up with her, but to come with her and her new husband to Paris on their honeymoon!

Lili couldn’t grasp what her mother was telling her. Sure, she had been out of town for weeks, but they had talked on the phone every day.

Why am I only now hearing about this? Lili asked. How could Precious have shared the news that they’d put in a new back fence, and the south patio needed resurfacing, but failed to mention that she was getting married?

Lili closed her eyes and rubbed the crystal glass against her mouth and relived with regret the distressed look that had covered the face of this tiny person she loved so much when Precious had replied, Baby, you had so much on your mind, and I hate to bother you when you’re working.

Lili had known better than to say anything else, so she’d taken a deep breath, dropped her bag and jacket, kicked off her shoes, and headed for the kitchen, leaving a trail of herself on the floor, with Precious following behind.

Filling a glass with chilled water, she’d said, Mama, it’s late, you must be tired. I know I am. Why don’t we go to bed and we can talk in the morning? Everything is going to be just fine.

Lili had wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulder and walked with her to her room. Sleep well, Precious. I love you.

After getting undress and knowing sleep was impossible, Lili, barefoot and bundled up in an old robe, had gone out into the courtyard. How could she have been so out of touch?

She was thirty-six-years old, practical, disciplined, and until last night, thought her world stable, with no hint of any major bumps along the road Lili called her life, until now.

She was a successful artist and owned several prestigious art galleries up and down the Pacific coast. Lili’s whole life revolved around caring for her mother, her career, and the Hacienda de la Montoya, her home, an original Spanish land grant bordered by the Pacific Ocean in the west and the Santa Ana Mountains to the east.

Precious Rose had lived with Lili for twelve years, from the day after Lili’s father had died. And for the last ten years, Lili had nursed this frisky pint-sized woman, with snow-white hair and azure-blue eyes, through two heart attacks, one stroke, a bleeding ulcer, and a six-month bout with shingles on her butt that had nearly driven them both over the edge.

Lili had passed up a chance at matrimony. No, if truth be told, she’d been passed over because she had refused to put Precious into a nursing home after the second heart attack.

Now her mother was getting married and moving out. Not just moving, she’d told her daughter, who had yet to digest all this news, but going off on a month-long honeymoon to Europe.

Scotch in the early morning was definitely not a good idea, especially on an empty stomach. Lili needed to think, outside, before Precious woke and the planning could begin. She dumped the slivers of ice into the sink and washed the glass.

As Lili turned to the glass French doors leading to the courtyard, she stopped and gazed at the large painting that hung on the wall of her studio, a portrait she’d painted of her grandmother, Willow de Montoya.

Lili’s father used to say that fate had a way of skipping a generation, placing one perfect human being between two bound for trouble. How his words had proven to be true.

Lili’s grandmother, Willow de Montoya, had been one of a kind, brazenly beautiful, wrapped in garments of strength and defiance. As Willow grew up, a blue-eyed beauty with hair the color of silver and sunlight, she became a state and persona unto herself, wild, generous, and bound to the land.

Long before the label Flower child came to be, poetically describing one as a protestor and a bra burner, Willow already traveled a different road; rebellious, independent, and outspoken. She’d fit so well in the sixties, welcoming sisters of the world who finally grasped the freedom she had known all her life. No one who knew her well was at all surprised when, at the age of forty and unmarried, she’d given birth and named her only child Precious Rose.

The first time Willow’s father placed her on a horse, the young girl knew what she wanted. About the same year her peers were being fitted for their first training bra, she was well on her way to becoming the matriarch of Hacienda de la Montoya. Nothing fazed her or tore her attention away from the land she loved. Up before the sun, and never in bed before midnight, Willow absorbed all her father taught her, outpacing her two brothers, Estevan, and Armando, who had only wanted the keys to the cars and money in their pockets.

But when her father died, and she inherited one-third of the estate, her world tumbled in chaos, and for the first time in her life, Willow had felt a sense of loss. She’d wandered in bewilderment, drank too much, and finally decided to travel abroad, to Spain, a place she knew only from tales told of her heritage.

Once there, among her distant family, Willow fell in love, a love that ended almost before it began. She returned home to her beloved hacienda by the brilliant fields and majestic ocean, pregnant, to have her child alone, yet seemingly content. She’d refused to speak of what was hers and hers alone, a bittersweet love left in Spain. Her future was the land and her child, her Precious Rose.

Willow had not come alone. Margarite Balan and her two-year-old daughter Lena had traveled with Willow when she returned from Spain. No one ever knew why she had left her family, but Willow and Margarite, both pregnant and unattached, found strength in their independence and had formed a friendship closer than blood. Six months after arriving at her new home, Margarite gave birth to Eduardo, four months before Precious Rose was born.

Except for the time Lena and Eduardo had gone off to university, they’d never wanted to be anywhere else, and even though Lena had a degree in advanced economics, and Eduardo an MBA from Harvard, she’d chosen to take over the daily running of the house and family after her mother died, the same year Willow gave Eduardo full control of the hacienda. This land, Hacienda de la Montoya, was their home.

Lili left her studio and walked past the fountain in the center of the walled enclosure where crystal water sprayed high into the sky before falling onto the circular base and misting the red tiles that lined the courtyard. She passed big blue pots filled with bright red and yellow hibiscus and entered the side door of the kitchen.

She grabbed an apple, circled back, and pocketed another one, then headed for the stables. She would talk to Eduardo, her second father, and friend. He knew her mother better than anyone.

Good morning, Mi pequeño.

Oh, Eduardo. I am not so little anymore.

To me, you will always be my little one. So tell me, what are you doing up so early?

I didn’t sleep well last night. Maybe I was too tired, or maybe I couldn’t get my head around the news I learned when I got home. I need some fresh air, so I’m going to take Diablo for a run. It’s been too long; I’ve neglected him.

Ella te dijo.

What? You mean, you knew? You know mama is getting married?

Yes, she told me. I told her it was not right to tell me before she told you, but yes, I know. I also know she wanted to tell you, but I think she was not sure. She came a week ago and asked me to saddle Rogue.

You let her ride Rogue? Eduardo, we talked about this, about her going out alone.

I know. But our Rose did not go out alone. Rosita went with her.

Upon hearing her name, the big yellow Lab nudged Eduardo’s leg. "A rose to guard a Rose. And Jimmy was not far behind. He gave Rose the space she needed but stayed near in case something happened, which it did not. You must remember, Jimmy and his family have lived here all his life. Your mama held him when he was born. He would never let anything happen to her.

Also, my Lili, your mama was my friend before she was your mother. And she was de Montoya before she was McKenna, and just like you, coming here this morning, she needed to talk to the land. Come on, and don’t be mad. It will be okay. You two will work it out. You always do. Enough for now. Your black devil hears you, and he wants his apple.

Lili walked beside Eduardo down the long stable block toward her horse, a giant black stallion who years ago had missed a trip to the glue factory by just days.

He loves that you’ve come. Although Jimmy lets him run every day, he misses you. I can hear your big fellow now.

Diablo stomped and kicked at the opening of his large enclosure. He’d heard her voice, and when she reached out to rub his head, he pushed into her, searching for his apple.

Born and bred in Mexico, Diablo was trouble from his beginning. Although deemed too dangerous to break, and destined to be put down, faith had other plans. The moment the little girl with flaming red hair saw the black beauty, his story changed. Every summer, Willow took Lili to Mexico to visit their cousin’s ranch, and the first time she saw him, Lili wanted the horse. She didn’t care that others said he was a killer. Lili wanted him, and against protests, Willow finally talked her cousin, Roberto, into letting them take the horse back to California. That was the easy part.

It had taken Lili buckets of tears, screaming tantrums, a hunger strike, and almost a year before her father had agreed to let her near the skittish animal who struggled to settle into a routine at the magnificent stables at Hacienda de la Montoya. For the next four years, counting downed fences, broken bones, torn clothes, and bushels of apples, Lili, with the help of Eduardo, had slowly gained the giant’s trust.

After leaving the paddock, Lili gave Diablo his head and breathed in the ocean air. He took off toward the top of the plateau east of the hacienda as if he knew this was where she needed to be to survey the fields and estuaries leading to the ocean.

Citrus trees covered one hillside, along with a stand of English walnut trees, and off to the west stood the avocado groves, the tender shoots soaking up the light breeze.

Wheat, barley, corn, and beans waited for the ocean mist to lift and let in the sun, crops still produced on the land just as they had since the coming of the first de Montoya. Newly plowed fields now planted with lettuce and strawberries, mixed with acers of flowers that mingled their brilliant kaleidoscope of color with the hillside grass.

Herds of cattle and horses, albeit smaller now than in the old days, roamed the high mountains behind the stables. In the lower valley, estuaries—variegated ribbons of green and blue, moved to the rhythm of the tides, feeding the wetlands that offered sanctuary to the sky travelers on their annual migration, a safe place to rest before continuing their journey.

And all of this belonged to her

Chapter Two

Lili gathered in the reins but didn’t have to encourage Diablo to run. They shared a silent language, and as he raced over the eastern slope toward the hills, both horse and rider found a rhythm of peace. After a while, Diablo slowed his pace as he blew in and out, shaking his head. His long midnight mane spread out like a Spanish fan as his legs pranced with the cadence of a flamingo dancer, then Diablo stopped, knowing Lili would dismount and stand by his side to gaze over the valley, a routine they had followed for years.

Yes, all of this was hers. Earlier this morning, Lili had sipped Scotch and recapped her life, the ongoing battle between her career as a renowned artist and her responsibility for not only her mother but for this land, which had passed to her almost ten years ago from her grandmother. Lately, her life seemed like a child’s see-saw, up and down, stability or turmoil; a life she sought to keep private.

She was privileged; she’d always known that. Lili could have had anything she wanted, luxury without lifting a finger, but her heritage had taught her to want more, to be independent of her wealth, and to give back, taking only what she needed, leaving everywhere she’d ever walked a better place.

Lili had worked damn hard for what she’d accomplished, but it had always been a balancing act. Her commercial life required most of her time, and over the years, it had not gotten any easier to keep the two separate, but from the day her father had died, Lili had never forgotten nor turned away from the responsibilities she had inherited.

Lili had always been a private person, and few knew, only her lawyer, accountant, and what members of her family she had left, the extent of her wealth. She owned all the land, buildings, animals, and the revenue generated from the fields and groves acquired over the years. All of it was hers because of her father’s directions and her grandmother’s desires regarding the original land grant.

While the founding fathers were fighting the British on the other side of the continent, the Spanish crown sought to colonize the land that would be called California. Their plan was threefold: a mission, a pueblo, and a presidio; church, town, and soldiers.

The blood and tenacity that flowed through Lili’s veins came from not only her Scottish father but her Spanish ancestor who had arrived on the California coast with a Royal Land Grant in hand. Rodrigo de Montoya, the youngest of three sons, knew that other than the church, his future was as uncertain as the meandering winds that gathered in the Atlantic and blew across the plains of Seville.

He, along with others from Spain, had joined forces with Father Junipero Serra around 1776 as the good Father started work on his seventh mission in California, located in San Juan Capistrano. The rest, as they say, is history.

Rodrigo fell in love with the land, and he’d stayed put when other families left, seeking gold in the north. Life was never easy, nor safe, but after years filled with war and the influx of Europeans, battles over land with whatever government claimed providence at the time, he’d stood fast to his property. Even after losing an arm and the sight in one eye, he’d stayed, as did his descendants.

When their father died, Willow and her two brothers, Estevan and Armando, each received one-third of the original grant.

Unlike her brothers, Willow loved the land and had taught Lili well, not just with words but by deeds. To look below the soil, to see the people who had fought for the continuation of the original hacienda. To this day, the people who worked the land but had no equable interest knew they were as much a part of what had begun centuries ago as those who held the title. They were all family.

The first de Montoya had cleared the land and built a grand dwelling high on the hill with generations to come in mind, and the Hacienda de la Montoya was the beginning and foundation of Lili’s heritage. The buildings had undergone many renovations over the years, but the original edifice remained.

Years ago, Willow had converted what was originally the first stable block into a studio for Lili. The courtyard she had crossed this morning and the large fountain centered in the middle was surrounded on three sides by plaster and red tile, with each room opening out onto the courtyard. The wood that framed the windows and doors came from the virgin forests cleared over a century ago, and when thrown open, the ocean breeze wandered in and shared their lives.

Estevan had welcomed her home from Spain. He wanted out, and in the end her love of the land became his ticket to sell out and move east. After months of bickering, Estevan accepted Willow’s offer. Papers were signed, and he was gone.

Armando stayed, content, farming the land along with Willow, for a while, until letters from his brother sent him into moods of discontent. Willow didn’t have the money to buy Armando’s land, so she understood when he put it on the market, and within a few months, it sold, and everyone’s life changed.

Angus McKenna was not a gambler, just a wealthy investor with a love of horses, but one day he’d accepted an invitation to attend the races with his American partner.

On April 6, 1980, a beautiful Saturday, a five-year-old gelding named John Henry entered the San Juan Capistrano Stakes at Santa Anita Racetrack. Angus had just purchased sight unseen an old estate in the seaside town bearing the same name, and he looked upon this race as an omen. He placed a bet on John Henry and won big time.

A few days later, he was on his way to see this legendary mission town and the property he had just purchased and planned to turn into a resort. The sun was shining when he arrived in San Juan Capistrano, driving a hot red, turbocharged Porsche.

He’d hardly started to look around when roaring down the hill, heading for the middle of town, driving a big green and yellow vintage Rio farm truck, came Precious Rose. She tried not to panic as she held her breath and pumped the brakes on the old truck that was long overdue for the junkyard, and prayed no one would get in her way.

Well, again, the rest is history. Angus had just parked his car, stepped out, stretched, and started to walk away when Miss de Montoya’s old Rio hit the Porsche broadside, pushing it across the car park and into the side of Mr. William’s hardware store.

At the last minute, she’d cranked the wheel and turned the truck into the car park and right into the side of the red Porsche. Angus just stood there, looking first at his mangled car, then back at the truck as a tiny person dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail streaming behind her, slithered out of the big truck and slid to the ground.

The fury of hell broke loose as Mr. William, wearing a straw hat, came running out of the hardware store. Within seconds, the street filled with people.

The tiny blonde still sat on the ground next to the monster truck. Mr. Williams bent down to make sure she was okay, then shouted at her. Good Lord, Precious Rose, just look at what you’ve done now. I swear to goodness, if your mama don’t take the keys of this old truck and throw them down the well, I’m going to get up a petition to ban you and that damn truck from the road.

Of course, like in a fairy tale, everyone lived happily ever after. The big Scotsman with dark green eyes and reddish-brown hair could have cared less that his beautiful car was a total wreck, because Angus had fallen head over dented fenders for this tiny woman with a crazy name. After the excitement died down, and his car and the old truck were hauled off, he turned all his attention to the half-pint blonde beauty with one thought in mind. He wanted her, and Angus usually got what he wanted.

He never turned Armando’s land into a resort. Willow diplomatically tutored him in the importance of family, of their continuing history in the valley. She hoped he would come to realize that this land was special, not meant for strangers to come and go and probably steal the towels and salt shakers.

Using the original footprint of Armando’s house, Angus built his new wife a magnificent Spanish hacienda, making sure the title to the land was in her name and that of their new daughter, who screamed her way into their hearts three years later.

Angus McKenna was no fool. He realized from the start that Willow and Precious had a bond far more profound than mother and daughter, and he had no problem honoring their relationship.

Willow had taught her only child all she had learned during her lifetime, then got out of her daughter’s way, more than satisfied to share Precious Rose’s post-university adventures through letters that came from all over the world as she traveled here and there, finally content to return home, to the land and the sea.

Angus usually agreed with everything they did. The only time he tried to take control was to name his daughter before Willow and Precious Rose had their way. As Angus held his baby daughter for the first time, he said, loud enough for the nurse who filled out the birth certificate to hear, that now he had a Lili and a Rose. He’d only wanted her name to be Lili, but she became Lilianarose. And although the attending nurse had screwed it up, Precious, idolizing her husband, had gotten over her disappointment of not being able to name her child. After all, Lilianarose was a beautiful name.

Chapter Three

Diablo nudged Lili, bringing her back to the present. He needed water, and she needed to get home, but first, she had to visit Willow. No more apples. We’ll go home in a minute.

Lili walked to the hilltop, to the stand of Golden Rain trees. The yellow flowering trees that were sometimes called China trees covered the land of the family burial place, starting with the first de Montoya.

Rodrigo had planted a tree there in the early years, stating in his will that this was where, in the end, he wanted to be. It was also his wish that each generation plant a new tree when one of his family joined him—a tribute to the one who had passed, and a continuation of de Montoya’s love of the land.

Of course, as the town grew and the county wrote new laws governing burials, they were told this was no longer possible. But Willow de Montoya was never one to let the local government tell her what she could do on her property. After years of fighting city hall, she had it worked out. Maybe they could no longer bury traditionally, but burial on their land by cremation and scattering were within the law.

Unlike her sweet friend, Sue Ann, who scattered the ashes of her dearly departed husband every place they had visited, a spoonful here and one there, Willow just wanted the family together under the ancient trees.

Willow, our Precious Rose is getting married, but you probably know that by now. It seems like everyone knew before she told me.

Standing under the grove of trees, talking to her grandmother, Lili felt a sense of peace and began to relax. Eduardo says it will be fine. Of course, it will. I want her to be happy; I do. I’m just worried about her health.

When Lili returned from her ride and speaking to her grandmother, she found Lena and Precious Rose drinking hot chocolate and eating toast. Lena ruled the hacienda, just as her brother, Eduardo, managed the land.

Trying to keep honey and butter from dripping all over the table, the two, giggling like schoolgirls, offered to share. After a loving hug and a smile that silently said everything was going to be okay, the three were ready to get down to business.

The next few weeks proved exciting yet exhausting. The days flew by rapidly—faster than the arrival of the swallows on their annual migration to the mission. Lili had threatened to duct-tape her mother to her bed if Precious did not slow down and rest. Lili’s soon-to-be stepdad had called and offered to step in and take over any unfinished arrangements, agreeing with a mischievous laugh that Precious should not overdo. After his call, Lili decided she just might like the man, and if he helped her mother to smile, well, that was all she could ask.

Thomas Keaton, the spry seventy-year-old widower, had two grown children, and friends that numbered in the hundreds. Thomas still worked, sometimes, when the mood struck. He held the title of senior partner in the prestigious law firm of Keaton, Thorton, and MacFee, but he had not stood before the bench in years. He was the PR man for the firm. Glad-handing was his forte.

Eight weeks ago, Lili had left Capistrano on a lecture tour, stopping in San Francisco, Portland, on to Seattle, then back home. It was during this time that Precious had attended the opera with her friends, and met up again with Mr. Keaton, who, according to Precious Rose, had gallantly retrieved her program that had dropped from her hand.

She had known him for a few years, not well—just a chance meeting now and then at some social function in town. But it would seem, according to the re-telling, that this time it had been an instant attraction at first glance.

After a couple of phone calls, Mr. Keaton finally convinced Precious to have lunch with him, and a bit more. By the time Lili returned home, the two had decided that they wanted to live happily ever after, together.

Each day Precious shared a few more pieces of the wedding plans. Although the historic Mission San Juan Capistrano had not allowed weddings or wedding receptions for more than twenty years, they did allow bridal showers, bridal and engagement photo shoots, rehearsal dinners, and the day after the wedding brunches. Although disappointed at not being able to say their vows in the Serra Chapel, the two did opt to have the photos taken there, and their bachelor parties.

Precious explained that the wedding would be at the Marbella Country Club and that she and Thomas had visited there and it was a lovely venue.

Thomas is a member, and I think you are going to love it. I can’t wait for you to meet him, Lili. He is such a generous and kind man, so funny at times. I know he will never replace your father or what we shared during our time together, but it seems right. I cannot begin to tell you how he makes me laugh.

Lili watched her mother as she shared information about this man she had met, liked, and was now going to marry. Rose beamed, like a new spring flower that had just found the sun. Her deep blue eyes danced along with her words and beautifully manicured hands as she told Lili all about what they had decided.

You and I still have to choose what we are going to wear, and the flowers, but I think that’s about it. The lady at the club, her name is Claudia something, I think—anyway she’s their wedding planner, and she was so pleasant, helping us decide on the menu. That’s about it, except we need to set a date for dinner so you can meet his two children.

Precious was on a roll, continuing her dialog as one hand held her coffee cup, and the other moved papers and pictures of the club, from one place to another on the old kitchen table that had stood in the same spot for over a hundred years.

Lena took the empty cup from Rose’s hands and went about straightening the kitchen, although it didn’t need any attention. Never once in all the years since she’d taken charge of Hacienda de la Montoya had the kitchen ever needed sprucing up. Cooking clean, Lena called it. Of course, she had help with the house, and five years ago, when Lili had hired two college girls to come in three times a week, adding to the staff. Lena had just smiled; she enjoyed being the boss.

Lena was the boss, at least where the house was concerned, just as Eduardo took care of the farm. Of course, Lili had the last word, but she had learned over the years to listen to what they had to say, and usually implemented their suggestions, which made for a happy home.

Most everyone who lived at the hacienda listened to Lena, like the time Lena had informed Lili and her mother, and all the women who lived and worked at the hacienda, that they were going to get their hair cut. Lena’s hair was full—long, and midnight black, and usually worn in a braid that ran down her back. Lena explained that she had read an article about an organization that made wigs out of human hair for cancer patients. We have enough hair in our family to make dozens of wigs, she announced.

So off they went, with Precious Rose laughing, finally able to cope with the thought of no longer having her long blonde ponytail. We are like Neapolitoan ice cream, she’d said, as they’d all piled into the property van. Vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry.

As the days passed, and even with the threat of duct tape, Lili had a hard time convincing Precious to pace herself. She was up before the sun, drinking tea, making notes, or walking to the stables to talk to Eduardo. He was her confidant, her big brother in every sense of the word except blood, a relationship that had grown and overcome all the obstacles thrown at them. Lili had to admit she would rather have her mother sharing time with Eduardo than fussing over fabric samples. Precious needed to relax.

A week later, Lili wished she’d had the forethought to meet with the Keaton siblings by herself before the finally scheduled dinner at the residence of Marjorie Keaton-Jones.

Later, as they drove home, Lili watched Precious Rose as she fought back the tears, desperately trying to hold them at bay, sensing that Rose wanted the privacy of her room before letting them cascade down her pale cheeks.

Lili wanted to ask her mother what had happened, but she just drove, tapping the steering wheel with the palm of her hand, wanting to scream, or break something. But Eduardo’s words had raced around in her brain, words he’d said to her for years, telling her to remain calm, that kept Lili from losing her temper.

After a warm bath, then a walkabout in her bedroom, Precious told Lili what had caused her to cancel dinner and tell her future husband that she had to go home. After a while, after Lili made sure her mother was as composed as Precious Rose said she was, Lili turned out the lights and left the room.

All her life—well, most of her early life anyway, Lili believed she’d held all the cards she needed to play in the game called life. The de Montoya women were strong; an independent breed more than capable of intelligent thought and actions. But of course, during those early years, Angus McKenna was always there to offer encouragement or delicately suggest a change of action to his headstrong daughter. And Angus had always known what brought joy to his Precious Rose. As Lili sat in the dark kitchen, shaking with anger, she wished her father was still here because it hurt like hell to see her beautiful, frail mother upset. Of course, if Daddy were still here, Precious would not be getting married.

She needed to go to bed. Lili knew she would have to deal with this problem tomorrow morning, and she would need all her wits about her, but she was too upset to sleep. Turning on the lights, she reached for a glass, only to drop it on the tile floor, the sound of shattering crystal echoing around the room.

Damn! Knowing she couldn’t leave this mess for Lena, Lili grabbed the broom and dustpan, but it was hard to see if she’d gotten all the tiny fragments of glass off the floor, so she wet the mop and starting scrubbing.

Lili, what in the hell are you doing? Give me that mop.

Eduardo stood at the door of the kitchen. He looked as if he’d started to get ready for bed. His feet were bare, a few buttons on his shirt open, and his dark hair a bit out of place. A scowl covered his face replacing his usual smile.

Lili jumped. What are you doing here? And don’t come in; there’s glass on the floor.

I asked you first. I thought you had gone to dinner. And I’ll ask you again, what are you doing here with that mop? Lena just called and told me someone was in her kitchen. You scared her. And where is Rose?

Lili leaned against the counter in the middle of the kitchen, her head on her chest, still holding the mop handle. Precious is in bed. Asleep, I hope. Lili looked up at Eduardo, finally letting go of the mop handle. And as for dinner, well, that went south when that bitch daughter of Mr. Keaton took Mama aside and told her that she and her brother needed to sit down with Precious to draw up a prenuptial agreement, preferably next week.

Son of a ...

"Yeah, my sentiments exactly. But you would have been proud of Precious. Although I couldn’t hear what they were saying, I watched Mama looked Miss Priss in the eyes, and without saying a word, turned around and walked back to where I was talking to the brother. Mother reached for my hand, smiled, then leaned into me and whispered, ‘Get me the hell out of here. Now.’

Eduardo, most people have no idea how strong she is or can be. She was upset, but I could tell she was serious, and although she held it together, I could see she was on the brink of tears. So I grabbed my purse, and we left with Daddy Keaton in a daze, asking what was happening. I told him I would call him tomorrow, and we flew out the door and drove off.

Eduardo ran his hand over his face. I don’t know about you, but I’d like a short dram of your daddy’s old Scotch. I better let Lena know it was only you mucking around in her kitchen. Go pour us a drink, and I’ll join you in the study. Go on now. We need to sort this out tonight.

The next morning after breakfast, Precious felt a lot better, especially after they’d explained to her what they were going to do. With a big smile on her lovely face, Precious agreed to the plans set in place the night before as Lili and Eduardo had sipped the hundred-year-old Scotch.

Eduardo opened the door to Mr. Thomas Keaton, his two children, and his attorney. After leading them in to the large study that had seen its share of business deals over the last hundred years, he inquired if they would like coffee.

Two minutes later, Lili, Precious Rose, and their attorney, Clark Andrews, joined them. Lili watched each face, trying to determine who knew what, then decided to proceed. Like Eduardo had said last night, they needed to sort this out.

"I thank you for coming, especially on such short notice, but we need to address the issue brought up last night.

Mr. Keaton, I am sure your daughter explained to you what happened. I don’t think I need to tell you how upsetting it was to my mother when your daughter mentioned a prenuptial agreement. I only have one question. If an agreement is what you wanted, why have you waited this long to discuss this issue? I would also like to know if there is anything else that might stand in the way of this marriage.

I never suggested nor wanted any such agreement. Thomas stood, paced a few steps then continued. I certainly never asked my daughter to bring up the subject. In fact, I am very upset by all this, I assure you. Rose, you have to believe me. I would never have had you hurt like this.

Lili observed the look of displeasure that passed between father and daughter, noting that the son, Keith Keaton sat quietly, seemingly more interested in his shoes than looking at his father. Well, she needed to get this done.

"Mr. Keaton, I think we can all agree that this issue needs closure. I thank you for bringing your attorney. I want to introduce you to our attorney, Mr. Clark Andrews, and I am sure between them, this matter can be drafted, signed, and finalized in short order. To that purpose, I will only state that your family can rest assured that my mother is not interested in nor in need of any assets you might have.

"She is a financially independent woman. Years ago, she and my father established the Angus and Precious Rose McKenna Charitable Trust. After my father died, their home, which is part of their trust, became a school for special needs children.

"My mother receives a considerable monthly allowance from me, which she hardly uses, and upon her passing, any unused monies will transfer to the Charitable Trust. I assume your estate is somewhat structured, all in order, held in trust, or whatever. But that is your business, not ours. I am also most confident that you and my mother can work out between you your monthly expenses.

"Let me just add that if she should decide to make a large purchase, let’s say something like a sea-going yacht or a mountain get-away, I stand ready to cover any shortfall she might have. I hope this information, which we will put in writing, will put your family’s concerns to rest.

Now if you will excuse us, I think we can turn this over to our attorneys. When you’re ready, Eduardo will show you out because my mother and I are off to buy her wedding dress.

Chapter Four

Tomorrow was the big day, a day that