Page 15 of Naked Truth

Chapter Nine

Valentina

The sun risesbright and full on Dom Hernandez’s beautiful home, and I wake to find that Raoul is no longer by my side. I know my grandfather keeps him very busy, and I shouldn’t insist he stay with me every minute of every day, but I can’t help feeling nervous whenever he’s not around. Despite all his assurances that my grandfather believes me and wants to claim me as his own, after last night’s party, I now understand more completely the opposition I face.

What was I thinking?Am I truly such a child that I expected this powerful man’s entire extended family would welcome me with open arms? Even worse, what if they cause Dom Hernandez trouble? I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. He opened his home to me along with his arms, and I already owe him so much for that.

I rise from my bed and quickly dress, surprised to find more clothes hanging in the bathroom, a brightly-colored sundress and new, laundered underclothes—everything in exactly the right size. There are also three new pairs of sandals lined up by the bed, and I smile as I think of Raoul directing someone to fetch those from town. He’s thought of everything, both he and Dom Hernandez. I can’t rest until I thank them both.

Fortunately, finding my grandfather is easy. He’s sitting on the broad back porch of the hacienda, enjoying breakfast in the cool of the morning—fruit, eggs, chorizo, beans, tortillas, and stiff, hot coffee. I realize how hungry I am as the rich aromas greet me. I step out onto the porch, and my grandfather looks up as my stomach growls. Loudly.

I slap my hand over my belly but he’s already up, laughing and gesturing for me to join him at the table. “You must eat, Valentina. I know Raoul calls you his little bird, but we can’t have you staying in your nest because you’re too weak to fly.”

I laugh and gladly sit down with him, but I don’t make a move for the food. “Dom Hernandez, before I once again take advantage of your hospitality, I have to tell you how grateful I am that you have welcomed me into your home, not knowing who I am or where I came from, or…or—”

Despite my best efforts to stay strong, the enormity of all this man has already done for me overwhelms me. Tears overflow my eyes and run down my face as my grandfather’s eyes widen in concern.

“Valentina,” he begins.

“No, no, please—please let me finish. I need you to understand. When my tía first told me the story of how she found me in the Rio Grande, I was only a little girl. She wanted me to know more than anything that I was truly loved. That I’d been separated from my family by bad people, and she rescued me, but that out there, somewhere, there were parents and grandparents who loved me very much, and that as long as they drew breath, they wouldn’t stop loving me. She also told me that she worked very hard to make sure I remained safe, and cautioned me not to go looking for my family, because she was certain I was still in danger.”

I pause, wiping my cheeks, and my grandfather interrupts me quietly, his dark eyes searching mine.

“And did you? Search for your family, I mean?”

“I never did.” My shoulders slump with this admission. “That may seem odd to you, but my tía was so good to me, and I knew she was worried about me. She would watch the news every night when she thought I’d gone to sleep, and scan the internet for stories she would never let me see. It was only after she passed and I found the pictures and the little vase in the safe deposit box that I took up the search. I think she knew, though. I think she always knew. I think…that’s why she made that piece of pottery, for me to give to you.”

“Maria Vantoro was a brilliant potter, even as a young woman,” my grandfather says, his gaze lifting now to stare off into the lush garden. “We were very close in age, you see. I met her once at a sidewalk art festival. She was very striking, though by then I was already married to your beautiful grandmother, and no woman could turn my head.”

I nod, my lower lip trembling. My aunt had a quiet beauty that you saw only when she was truly at rest—which was rare, given her drive to create stunning works of art. For Dom to have understood the beauty in her makes my heart sing.

“When I saw her work, I knew she would be a very famous artist, and I wanted to help her with that,” he continues. “I bought some of her work that day.”

An odd note in his voice makes me lift my eyebrows. “Some?”

He grins broadly. “Well. Perhaps more than some. I bought everything she had, and I immediately shipped the pieces to several art galleries, suggesting they try to sell them, as well. If they made more than I’d paid for the pieces, they could keep the profit. If they didn’t, they were out nothing…but I would be following up. My name, combined with that no-lose sale proposition, plus the suggestion that I’d potentially continue delivering pieces from other unknown but potentially profitable artists…”

I’m staring at him now. “You launched her career,” I breathe, unable to believe my ears. “She told me about how she got started, but she never told me your name.”

“She didn’t know it, at first. She only realized who I was when I offered to purchase her work. And as to the rest—” he waves an indulgent hand. “She had true talent, your tía. She would have been discovered eventually.”

“Oh, grandfather,” I whisper, my tears now coming more quickly. “You don’t understand. You never stopped taking care of me, not once, even before I was born.”

He looks more sharply at me, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Because of you, my aunt was able to prosper as an artist, something not everyone can do. Because of her prosperity, she was able to take on a child she plucked from the river, a child another woman might have given up to the nearest stranger, unable to help. But she didn’t. She raised me and kept me safe all these years. And it’s all because of you!”

Dom Hernandez has gone a little paler, and I suddenly fear I’ve said too much, but when I blink away my own haze of tears, it’s to see his eyes are shining brightly as well. There’s a soft scuffing noise on the bricks behind me, and when I turn, I realize Raoul is standing in the doorway, the expression on his face so gentle, so loving, it takes my breath away.

“Raoul,” Dom Hernandez says, making no move to wipe away his tears. He is proud of them, I suddenly realize. They are tears for his family. “Why don’t you get this little bird some food, then take her into the garden to show her all the lovely flowers my Camila planted, hoping that one day her beautiful granddaughter would return. I…I have some people I need to call, to bring to the house, that I’d like you to speak with later.”

The two men stare at each other, communicating without words. I don’t understand the nature of their silent conversation, but I do know this: I am safe. I am loved.

As if he can hear my thoughts, my grandfather turns back to me. “My sweet Valentina, you are my granddaughter. No matter what story your blood reveals, it is your heart that tells me this. Never again will you have to wonder who your family is, or where your home may be. It is here. It will always be here.”

He opens his arms to me, and I rush to him and hold him close, neither of us minding the tears that start to fall all over again.

---