Instead she looked up at him with big doe eyes.
Her quiet daughter had already developed a crush on him, Lourdes realized. Paige, the observer, was smitten.
That made two of them. Only Paigeâs crush didnât seem nearly as consuming as the one Lourdes battled. But how could it? Paige was only four years old, with an attention span that flitted like a butterfly.
âThatâs quite a picture,â Lourdes told the three amigos whoâd created it. âA true masterpiece. A collaboration worth framing.â
âWe think so.â Juan took the coloring book back. And for a moment their eyes met and held.
âIâm surprised to see you up and about,â she said to him.
âStaying in bed all the time was making me stir-crazy. Besides, Iâm feeling better. Iâm not seeing double anymore.â He shifted to look at each twin. âThen againâ¦â
The girls giggled, and Lourdes admired his easy manner with her kids.
Maybe he had a few little ones of his own.
And a loyal wife who missed him terribly.
Defending herself, she took a bite of her sandwich. So she was attracted to him? So what? Even if he weresingle, she wouldnât get involved with him. Lourdes didnât do affairs.
She wouldnât be doing Juan.
Amy, whoâd been silent up until now, closed her sketchbook and rose. âIâm going to get some pudding and watch TV.â
âCan we get pudding and watch TV?â Nina chirped. She always spoke for her sister, making plans for both of them. Today they wore matching T-shirts and identical ponytails. They insisted on being groomed with the same clothes, the same shoes, the same accessories. If Nina sported a red hair ribbon, Paige did, too. If Paige picked a lavender dress from the mall, Nina decided lavender was her new favorite color, as well.
Lourdes granted them permission to follow Amy, and the trio scattered, leaving her and Juan alone.
Silence drifted between them.
Awkward silence.
Lourdes tasted the pasta salad, then wished she hadnât. Suddenly she felt self-conscious chewing in front of him.
He began gathering crayons and dumping them into the plastic container in which the twins kept them.
She glanced at the cross around his neck. As usual, it dangled near his heart, shining like a memory.
Should she say something? Tell him it had once belonged to her?
No, she couldnât. Not now. Not this soon. She wasnât ready to spill her emotions. Or to explain that Cáco thought his arrival at the ranch was fate.
âHave you had lunch?â she asked instead.
âCáco made soup and sandwiches. I ate with her and the girls.â He studied a broken crayon, a waxy,worn-down shade of blue. âIâm sorry if I said some strange things.â
She tried for a casual air. âStrange things?â
âWhen my brain was bumbled.â
âYou didnât.â But he did, she thought. Heâd said plenty of strange things. Sexy, she-was-his-dream things. âI mean, itâs okay. You were confused.â But he seemed focused today, completely aware of his surroundings. He still appeared tired, though, as if he needed a nap.
âAre you ready to talk to the police?â she asked.
He shuffled the broken pieces of the blue crayon. âTo question them about missing persons in the area? No, Iâm not. Iâd prefer to regain my memory first. Cáco is convinced my amnesia is only temporary.â
âJuan, someone is probably worried about you, wondering where you are. Surely you have family somewhere.â Dare she say it? âA wife. Children.â
âIâm not married,â he responded quickly.
Too quickly? she wondered.
âHow can you be sure?â
âBecause I can feel things about myself. And I know Iâm not married. Thereâs no one special in my life. Nor do I have children.â
He made a troubled face, and she suspected some of the things he
Janwillem van de Wetering