“Papi, you have always said that you wanted me to marry for love, and I am in love with Diego. He has been a great help to Aunt Josephina and has been there to watch over us both. His father is someone you greatly admire—a good friend, as I recall.”

“Yes, his father is a good friend. We correspond often, which is why I cannot allow you to marry Diego. He is not the man you believe him to be.”

“He is a wonderful man. You simply do not know him. If you and Mama would come to California, you could get to know him and love him as a son.” She smiled and glancedat Aaron. “Diego greatly admires you, Papi, and I know he would love to be mentored by you.”

“He doesn’t take his own father’s direction. Why would he take mine?”

She had not expected any of this. “Perhaps we can speak of it later. I should probably have waited until we were alone, but I was just so excited.”

“Has he proposed?” Papi asked, looking at her hand.

“No. But he plans to when I return.” She had no proof of that but hoped it might convince her father of Diego’s sincerity. “He had planned to propose on Christmas Eve, but you ordered me here.”

“We invited you here,” Mama said, reclaiming her fork.

“Well, he would have proposed on Christmas Eve had I remained in California,” Isabella said with a shrug. “I cannot help that his plans were delayed. However, I assure you that it is what I want more than anything.”

“I’m sorry,” her father said, shaking his head. “I will never consent. Let us put the matter aside. It causes me great distress.”

Isabella had only ever known her father to be this determined on a matter when he moved them to New Mexico and when he refused to let her live with her aunt when she turned eighteen. Isabella felt a sense of dread and confusion mingled together.

Why was he so adamant about Diego? What had Diego ever done to him?