Free Reflected Pleasures by Linda Conrad Page A

“high.” But it was hanging out in the cerulean sky overhead and beating down through the windshield as if it were determined to ruin any chance that the pickup’s struggling air conditioner would be able to make things comfortable.
    Ty hadn’t said much while they drove for an hour and a half down winding farm-to-market roads. Aminute ago they’d bumped over a grate in the road, then jostled under a twenty-foot sign indicating this was the Double S ranch.
    â€œOuch,” she complained when the truck dipped into a pothole the size of Orange County, California, and knocked her sideways into the door handle. “I thought your friend must have money if he’s going to make such a big donation. Can’t he afford to pave the driveway to his house? Or does he just like gravel roads?”
    â€œThis isn’t gravel. It’s caliche,” Ty told her without turning to face her. “And Miguel Santos could afford to pave over the entire state of Texas if he wanted to. But part of his empire includes the largest caliche pit in the world. You might want to refrain from bringing up the subject of paving.”
    â€œAh. I see. Well, caliche is nice, I guess.”
    She half turned to look at Ty and found herself noticing how he absently drove his fingers through his hair and then straightened his collar as he kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. This great day would have a long way to go in a competition with Ty on who looked the best in the sunshine.
    Obviously, he’d made an effort to dress a little nicer than usual in order to make a good impression on the new donor. His royal blue shirt brought out the deeper blue in his eyes. The jeans he wore looked brand-new and she was sure his boots had never been worn before today.
    It warmed her heart to see him trying to change his appearance.
    Merri wondered how long she would have to know him in order for her to feel comfortable taking him ona shopping trip. She could just picture him in an expensive, designer suit and tie. Yum.
    Within a few minutes, they’d parked the car and were being ushered into a rambling house that seemed to stretch out into the next county. Miguel—Mike—Santos met them halfway down a Saltillo-tiled hall. He was a short man with salt-and-pepper hair and a twinkle in his dark brown eyes. Even though he was an inch shorter than Merri, his regal presence made him seem like a giant.
    And…he wore dirty, torn blue jeans and boots that looked like they hadn’t been polished once in their whole existence. Merri smiled at her own naive stupidity. Clothes did not always make the man.
    Ty clasped the man’s hand and her boss’s expression said it all. He genuinely liked Mike Santos. And he couldn’t care less about the way that either of them were dressed.
    Maybe she had a lot more to learn about real life than she’d ever imagined.
    For the next hour, over cold drinks and tamales, she listened to Mike as he reminisced about his late wife and showed them pictures of his grandchildren. He had been born right here on this ranch, which had come to his family as a Mexican land grant over two hundred years ago.
    But his wife had come from a poor immigrant family and had lost her parents when they crossed into the United States. Hers was a sad story, filled with struggle and hardship. And it made Merri feel more than a little uncomfortable with her own spoiled upbringing.
    At last Mike stood, but he signaled for her and Tyto stay in their seats. “You have been very gracious to listen to an old man’s story, Merri. I feel that I could tell you anything. Gracias. ”
    Mike turned to Ty and put a hand on his shoulder. “I planned to donate a nice sum to your children’s foundation, amigo . Without your backing when I needed it most, I might not have saved the ranch.
    â€œBut now…” he continued hesitantly. “Seeing Merri and talking to her about my Maria’s