by Lanette Zavala, visit your favorite online bookstore.
Prologue
1980
A proud sense of gratification overshadowed Natalie Taylor as she observed all her friends’ fascination with the Reyes-Taylor Ranch. On over one-hundred acres of land in the countryside of MacEllah, each family’s large vacation home held an abundance of cozy bedrooms and breathtaking family accommodations. Between each home, which was built back-to-back, there was a poolside spacious enough to accommodate at least forty people and a separate picnic area surrounding an over-size barbeque pit with four ten-foot wooden picnic tables.
From the balcony of the Taylors’ house, just outside the second-floor den, the high school seniors overlooked the well-lit shared backyard in amazement. For them, the ending of prom night, with their one-hour drive to the getaway spot, meant the beginning of a special weekend.
Vivian Brown pulled Natalie back into the den and told her in a low, discreet tone, “Natalie, Chad wants me to spend the night with him tonight. Can’t we take one of the bedrooms away from everybody else?”
Natalie laughed without hesitation. She looked out the window and gazed at the group as she explained, “Girl, I told you. My parents will not go for that. That’s why my mama is here and will probably be awake all night on alert.”
“And what about Joe’s house?” Vivian asked her referring to the Reyes home just yards away, where all the boys were expected to sleep for the night.
“Forget it,” Natalie told her. “Mrs. Reyes won’t even let any girls over there tonight – just to make sure there’ll be no funny business in her house.”
“Oh,” Vivian responded, almost too embarrassed to continue looking her friend in the eye.
“Is he trying to pressure you?” Natalie demanded gently. “You always did seem to know what you wanted Vivian. And you said you’d never let anybody pressure you.”
“Well, no, he’s not pressuring me,” Vivian replied weakly.
“Good. Then, tell him to hold his horses until the wedding night.”
“Don’t be silly, Girl,” Vivian answered her friend with a chuckle. “Chad and I haven’t talked about marriage.”
“Well, then, he’s got a lot of nerve.”
“You’re so self-righteous, Nat.” Vivian turned on her heel and headed back to the balcony.
Natalie had heard the statement before. And on several occasions she had allowed such a statement to occupy her mind, having been told too often that she was older than her years. But lately, she second-guessed all of what had been told to her concerning her conservative judgment.
Her eyes fell on her prom date, Joseph Reyes Junior. He was her handsome childhood friend. Since meeting during a time when she could barely remember, he had been her playmate. She had never before thought to consider herself as his date to anything, especially not to prom. But after a hurtful break-up from a six-month courtship, which she had never before revealed to her cousin, Tiphany, nor to her friends, she found familiar delight and humor in the friendly company of Joseph. If there was any self-righteousness in her, as her friend often accused her, it disappeared in his presence.
Regardless of his family’s wealth and prestige, Joseph was a juvenile delinquent. Unlike his twin brother, Juan, who prided himself on fine academic performances and outstanding high school baseball, Joseph had kept so much company with unlawful teens that their behavior had rubbed off on him. His parents often found comfort in the confidence of the Taylors, sharing their grief in their son’s arrests over wild parties, alleged car thefts connected with criminal friends, and graffiti-related vandalism.
Despite their different choices in life, Natalie felt connected to him. But, for the connection, she felt ashamed. The label of “self-righteous” and the uncertainty of trusting a delinquent conflicted within her heart.
A year had passed since Joseph’s return from eight-months in a detention. Since returning from that last stay in juvenile, he had changed in an amazing but peculiar way, as family and friends had noticed. There were times when he had more to talk to Natalie about than she could bear to hear. He showed all the signs of what her cousins, EmmaJean and Belinda MacNeal, labeled as jailhouse religion. But her parents were vocally optimistic about his change. As far as Natalie could see, they never seemed to harbor one skeptical thought between the two of them about Joseph.
All Joseph ever seemed to want to talk about lately was the Bible, Natalie often complained inwardly. Although she appreciated her friend’s newfound preoccupation with the Bible, being a Sunday School junior superintendent herself at church, she longed for more exciting conversations during their phone calls. She wanted the youthful, stimulating talk that she missed from her former boyfriend. Just a week before the prom, she had drifted to sleep as Joseph read a full chapter of First Chronicles to her over the telephone.
There was also a reserved side of Joseph. That very prom night, he seemed almost too shy to mingle among the group of guys, who were to camp at his parents’ vacation home all weekend. To Natalie, the mystery that others saw in his eyes revealed to her a transparency of sadness and regret. She was delighted that he had finally shed his bad-boy exterior and had demonstrated a willingness to show common vulnerability. Only days ago in another one of their lengthy phone conversations, he had shared with Natalie his lifelong struggle comparing himself to his well-liked twin brother, Juan.
As she often had to do, Natalie tried shaking her thoughts of Joseph. With every detail that he gave about himself, whom she thought she already knew, she pondered. He had developed into the enigmatic character standing on the balcony from the shy little boy who also had a hidden mischievous side that could easily stir up uncontrollable laughter within herself and in her siblings.
Her eyes glued on him through the window. Under the bright balcony light, his smile could draw her attention from miles away. His sudden attention on her alerted her to how silly she was certain she must have appeared staring at him. Realizing that her eyes wore a lost gaze and that her head was tilted to the side, she finally pulled herself together.
“Snap out of it!” Natalie scolded herself.
At the sight of Joseph approaching her, her heart pounded against her chest, to her surprise. His dress shirt hung outside his tuxedo slacks casually and attractively.
“What in the world is this?” She screamed inwardly.
She had always maintained that Joseph had no place in her heart as anyone besides as a friend. After all, he was Latino. Her interest had always been African-American guys as his had always been Latina girls.
Stepping into the den through the doorway near the window, he approached her with a chuckle. “What are you doing in here by yourself?”
“Oh…I-I was j-just talking to Vivian.”
“Well, she’s outside now.”
“Oh, yeah.” She chuckled nervously.
“Come on. Let’s go talk in the kitchen.”
Up and down the stairs became her constant activity since arriving on the ranch almost an hour ago. She had immediately changed into a plain, tan-colored dress that hugged her slightly thick waistline while flowing out loosely over her legs at midway between her knees and ankles. Besides how well the dress complemented her fair skin tone, she had received no other indication of admiration. She didn’t care. She was comfortable and confident that she wouldn’t fall down any steps in an attempt to look cute.
His hand reached out for hers. Only on the dance floor earlier that night had he ever reached to hold her hand. Her eyes landed on their sudden link at the palms. It was a sight of excitement and a feeling of security and warmth. She could also sense the mutual connection within his touch. And, to her surprise, she could feel far more developing within her heart.
Once