Chapter 40 Unexpected Visitors
Two days later
Leitana’s laughter rang through the stables as the chestnut gelding nuzzled her cheek again, smearing warm horse breath across her skin. She scratched under his forelock, giggling when he lipped playfully at her braid.
“He likes you,” a low, easy voice drawled behind her.
She startled, spinning around so fast she nearly dropped the curry comb.
A stranger leaned against the half-door of the stall: tall, sun-browned, blond hair curling out from under a battered straw hat, dimples on his cheek as he smiled at her.
Leitana smiled back on reflex (island politeness), even though she didn’t recognise him at all. The ranch employed dozens of hands, but she prided herself on remembering faces. This one was brand-new.
He pushed off the door and stepped closer, boots quiet in the straw.
“Hi,” he said, tipping the brim of his hat. “I’m Matteo.” His voice carried a warm Southern drawl, smooth. “And you are…?”
The way he let the question hang, curious and open, made it clear he had no idea who she was.
That confirmed it: definitely new.
Leitana brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, suddenly shy. “Leitana,” she answered softly, accent curling around the syllables. She no longer desired to pretend that she was Avery.
His brows lifted, delighted. “Leitana. Damn, that rolls off the tongue real pretty. You from the islands?”
She nodded, cheeks warming. “Vanuatu.”
“Never been,” Matteo said, grin widening. “But I’m thinkin’ I need to fix that one day.”
He hooked a thumb in his belt loop and leaned one hip against the stall post, perfectly at ease. “So, Miss Leitana from Vanuatu, you always sneakin’ into the stables to sweet-talk Thunder here, or is today my lucky day?”
Leitana’s laugh slipped out before she could stop it, bright and startled. “I no sneak! The stable master say I can come anytime. Thunder get lonely when the other horses go out to pasture.”
Matteo raised a brow, amused. “Lonely, huh? That’s why he’s tryin’ to eat your braid right now?”
She glanced up; sure enough, the gelding was gently nibbling the end of her hair. She swatted his nose playfully. “Stop dat, you big baby.”
“Big baby,” Matteo repeated, chuckling. “Boy’s seventeen hands and you got him actin’ like a puppy.”
“He good boy,” she insisted, scratching under Thunder’s jaw. The horse leaned into her hand with a deep, contented groan. “See? He just want love.”
“Guess some males are simple like that,” Matteo drawled, eyes crinkling. “Feed us, love us, sing us a hymn or two, and we’ll follow you anywhere.”
Leitana’s cheeks warmed. “I sing because it calm him. Back home the old women sing to the cows same way.”
“You sing to cows?” He laughed, low and easy. “Lord, darlin’, I need to visit this island.”
She grinned, shy but proud. “You should. The cows there give sweetest milk. And the stars…” She spread her hands wide, eyes shining. “So many, you feel like you can touch them.”
Matteo’s gaze softened, something gentle flickering behind the teasing. “Bet they don’t shine half as bright as they do when you’re lookin’ up at ’em.”
Her breath caught. She ducked her head, suddenly fascinated with Thunder’s mane.
He cleared his throat, tipping his hat back a little. “So what was that song you were hummin’ earlier? Sounded like church, but prettier.”
“Just a hymn Mother Superior teach us,” she said quietly. “ ‘It Is Well With My Soul.’ When I sing, the horses stop fussin’. Even the crazy ones.”
“Sing it again,” he said, voice softer now. “I wanna hear.”
She hesitated, then let the melody spill out, low and sweet, the Bislama words mixing with English. Thunder’s ears flicked forward; the whole barn seemed to still.
When the last note faded, Matteo exhaled like he’d been holding his breath.
“Damn,” he murmured. “No wonder this horse is half in love with you.”
Leitana laughed again, lighter this time. “He only love peppermints. I hide them in my pocket.”
She pulled one out to prove it. Thunder lipped it off her palm like a gentleman.
Matteo shook his head, grinning. “You’re trouble. Pretty little thing feedin’ thousand-pound babies candy and singin’ hymns. Poor Thunder never stood a chance.”
“And you?” she asked before she could stop herself, teasing. “You stand a chance?”
His dimples flashed. “Reckon I’m already fallin’, Miss Leitana.”
That was when Clara burst in, pale and breathless.
And everything changed.
“Miss Leitana,” she whispered urgently, “you have visitors. In the main house. They’ve been waiting.”
Leitana blinked. “Visitors?”
Clara swallowed. “Your… your parents, miss.”
The curry comb slipped from Leitana’s fingers and clattered to the floor.
Matteo’s smile faltered. He straightened slowly, gaze flicking from Clara’s pale face to Leitana’s stunned one. Something clicked behind his eyes (recognition, then dawning horror).
The boss’s wife.
The Wife, every farm hand everyone knew better than to breathe near. One wrong smile, one misstep, and you were gone, no body, no questions, just an empty bunk and a new job posting by morning. Just like the last guy they still whispered about, the one whose position he’d just taken.
He took a careful step back, clutching his straw hat against his chest like a shield.
Leitana didn’t notice.
Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear anything else.
Parents.
Those people.
Since she had been married off to Ravial, she hadn’t heard from them. Not since walking out of the church like cattle sold off by Charles Hale.
“Madam, we couldn’t send them away, since they are your parents and Senator Hales is here too. But it looks like the master didn’t know they would come, and he hates unexpected visitors,” Clara said.
Leitana turned to look at her as they reached the double doors leading into the main villa, but she didn’t answer. Her heart kept hammering in her chest. Some of the other staff lingered nearby.
Rosa was one of them. She looked slightly pale, and it seemed like she was about to speak when a loud voice floated reached their ears, one she recognized immediately.
“Where is she? Does she not know her parents are here?” Charles bellowed.
Leitana rounded the corner. There they were, seated on the couch. But when her eyes landed on the figure at the far end of the chair, wearing her face, her entire body went stiff.
Then Charles spoke, straight to the point.
“You can see for yourself. Your sister is back, and this marriage can no longer continue.”