Ridge sucked in his breath, surprised at the pain he still felt at the mention of his father. “I won’t lie to you, Robby. I’m not sure I can keep that promise. Father...Father has not exactly been open to talking to me about anything.”
“He loves you,” Robby said, sadness creeping into his voice. “He always thought I should be more like you. I tried. God knows I tried, but in the end, I could only be myself.”
Ridge reined in his horse and stared at his brother in shock. “What the hell are you saying, Robby? Father has despised me ever since I entered Cambridge to pursue studies in ancient civilization.”
Robby shook his head. “He’s always admired you. Hell, I’ve always admired you. Iwantedto be more like you. Strong. Has it ever occurred to you that the reason you two are at each other’s throats is because you’re so much alike?”
Ridge shook his head in disbelief. What a waste. His brother had spent years feeling second rate to him, and he, well, he had spent years feeling second rate to everyone. What a mess. And to think India envied him his family.
He nudged his horse forward again, not really knowing what to say to Robby.
“Youarestrong,” Ridge finally said. “How you’ve managed to carry on in the face of such adversity. It’s astonishing. I could learn much from you.”
“Thank you for saying that,” Robby said, his voice cracking suspiciously.
Robby rubbed his sleeve over his face and looked ahead.
Ridge watched him, a hollow ache building in his heart. How could he be without Robby? Robby had always been around, a buffer between Ridge and their father.
What would he do when Robby was gone?
He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to dwell on it. Robby wanted an adventure, and in order to provide it, he was going to have to catch up to India.
And then she could damn well apologize to both of them for her despicable lies.
###
“We camp here for the night, Senorita,” Juan Miguel called out as he pulled in his horse.
She strained her eyes in the dim light to view their surroundings. She could smell pine and knew they were closer to the mountains. The terrain had begun sloping upward over the last several miles.
Grateful to stop after nearly twenty-four hours in the saddle, she slid down, her knees buckling beneath her. She held on to the horse’s neck until the painful tingling had left her limbs.
A few feet away, light flared as Juan Miguel started a fire. The cool night air blew over her skin, and she moved closer to the fire, seeking its warmth.
“It’s not much, but it will fill you up,” Juan Miguel said as he tossed her a small bundle.
She unwrapped it to find bread and cheese. She bit hungrily into it, enjoying the tangy taste of the cheese. She watched as Juan Miguel rolled out several blankets for them to sleep on.
“You’re nothing like I envisioned,” she said.
He looked up from his task. “And what did you envision, Senorita?”
She shrugged. “More sinister. After all, you hold my father. You threatened his life.”
He frowned but said nothing for a long while. “Much is not as it seems. But you will find out soon enough.”
“There’s one thing I don’t understand though,” she said, as she broke off another piece of bread. She took a bite before she continued.
Juan Miguel stared at her and waited.
“Your friend, the one with a tattoo like yours. Why did he try so hard to steal what you asked me to bring? Why even bother to involve me if you knew where the bracelet was and how to get it?”
“Perhaps he did not try to steal it, Senorita. Ours is not a mission of violence. Rather of peace. He was sent to protect you.”
She laughed. “Protect? Is that what you call breaking into my house, threatening me, hitting me over the head then chasing me down the street?”
Juan Miguel regarded her somberly. “Perhaps you have more enemies than you think.”
