—”Let them come.”
—”Ernest…”
—”Let them all come. Victoria, Austin, the investors, the notaries, and anyone who thinks an old man who smells like a stable no longer knows how to defend his home.”
Henry looked at me for a long time.
Then he smirked slightly.
—”Eleanor would have said that with fewer words.”
—”Eleanor would have won before breakfast.”
On Friday night, Austin came looking for me.
I found him in the small chapel Eleanor had ordered built next to the rosebushes in the south garden. It was a simple chapel, with wooden benches, a small Madonna statue, and a cross carved by a local craftsman.
Austin was sitting on the front bench.
Without Victoria.
Without a suit.
Without a phone.
For a second, he looked like my son.
—”Dad,” he said, —”did Mom really think so poorly of me?”
I sat beside him.
The chapel smelled of wax and dried flowers.
—”Your mother thought well of you. That’s why it hurt her so much to watch you lose yourself.”
Austin rubbed his face.
—”I just wanted to make the ranch grow.”
—”No. You wanted to prove you were bigger than the ranch.”
He looked at me with red eyes.
—”Victoria says that if we don’t sign with Green Peaks, they’re going to drown us in debt. That the water is already worth more than the cattle. That the lands can be turned into a hotel, an equestrian club, vineyards, luxury experiences for foreigners…”
I let out a bitter laugh.
—”Experiences. That’s what they call selling someone else’s history now.”
—”It’s not that simple.”
—”Of course it isn’t. It never is when you want to justify a betrayal.”
Austin lowered his head.
—”I’m in debt, Dad.”
I didn’t say anything.
—”A lot. Before the wedding. Victoria doesn’t know everything. I thought with this contract we’d get out. I thought I’d explain it to you later.”
—”And the nursing home was also part of your explanation?”
His face broke down.
—”I didn’t want that.”
—”But you signed.”
—”Victoria told me it was temporary.”
—”Victoria told you. Victoria wanted. Victoria decided. And where were you, Austin?”
He didn’t answer.
Outside, the distant sound of music began to play. The remaining guests at the ranch kept toasting, as if life were a show where others fall and they applaud from the shadows.
—”Your mom left you a letter,” I said.
Austin raised his face.
—”To me?”
—”Yes. But I’m not giving it to you yet.”
—”Why?”
—”Because a letter from Eleanor isn’t used to quiet your guilt. It’s received when you are ready to change.”
I stood up slowly.
Before I left, Austin grabbed my sleeve.
—”Can I still fix it?”
I looked at him.
I was seventy years old, and for the first time, I didn’t know if I wanted to save my son or let him sink so he could learn to swim.
—”Tomorrow we’ll find out.”
Saturday dawned clear.
The sky over the valley was clean, that shade of blue that makes the leaves shine like knives. In the kitchen, Sarah prepared a hot stew for the workers, because out here, even days of war need hot broth, lemon, and fresh tortillas.
At eleven o’clock, the cars arrived.
Three black SUVs.
A sedan with out-of-state plates.
Two lawyers.
A notary.
The men from Green Peaks Group got out smiling, wearing brand-new boots and hats that had never seen sweat. Victoria went out to greet them in a beige dress, a pearl necklace, and a confidence that wasn’t that of a bride, but of a fake boss.
Austin came behind.
Pale.
They looked for me in the main house.
I wasn’t there.
I made them walk all the way to the old riding arena, the one Eleanor refused to demolish because that’s where Austin rode his first horse. In the stands were Jim, Sarah, the cowboys, the cooks, the children of the workers, and several local suppliers who had worked with me for decades.
Victoria stopped when she saw me.
I was in the middle of the ring, with my hat, a clean shirt, and a cane. Henry was by my side.
—”What kind of circus is this?” Victoria whispered.
—”A proper country one,” I said. —”Out here, important things are spoken face-to-face.”
One of the investors smiled uncomfortably.
—”Mr. Valdes, perhaps it would be better to handle this in private.”
—”You wish.”
Henry pulled out the documents.
Victoria tried to interrupt, but the notary she had brought stepped closer to look. It took only thirty seconds for his face to change.
—”The property is locked down,” he murmured.
—”What?” Victoria said.
Henry spoke loudly so everyone could hear.
—”The Golden Sun Ranch legally belongs to Ernest Valdes. Miss Eleanor established an irrevocable trust. No sale, transfer, mortgage, or exploitation of water rights can be carried out without the direct signature of Mr. Ernest and the validation of two witnesses designated by her.”
Victoria clenched her fists.
—”This is manipulation. He isn’t well. He doesn’t understand.”
I raised my hand.
Jim connected a screen they used for cattle auctions.
Eleanor’s face appeared.
Thin.
Pale.
Beautiful.
The murmuring died instantly.
Austin put his hand over his mouth.
My wife’s voice came through clearly, though tired.
“If you are seeing this, it is because someone tried to remove Ernest from his home. Don’t fool yourselves. My husband isn’t stubborn because he’s old. He’s stubborn because he knows how to love what others only know how to sell.”
