The Saint

Prologue

(This story is dedicated to 84Karoll. She is my sister from another mister. I have known her for a long time, and it was hard for me to find inspiration. Now that I found my passion to write again, this book is to say thank you, and I love you! :) )

Isabel POV

September 21st

It was a dark and rainy day in the village of Alora, in the province of Malaga, Spain. The city is located in the autonomous community of Spain of Andalusia. The closest city is Malaga, Spain which is 2 or 3 miles away.

For those of you that are confused, think of an autonomous community like a state in the United States. Andalusia is a "state" and Seville is the capital. In each of these communities, is divided into sections, like a county in a state.

Andalusia has 8 'counties': Almeria, Cadiz, Cordoba, Granada, Huelva, Jaen, Malaga, and Seville.

I live just a few miles outside of the village of Alora in Malaga, Spain. There were mountains and hills. Green pastures and olive trees with bountiful harvest across the land that man has not touch. Out of the entire land was a 10 Acres ranch with horses just as beautiful as Europe itself.

My father, Marco Cielo, was a doctor. The only one that serves the less fortunate. My father owned his practice, and he taught me everything he knew on how to take care of a person from surgery to proper casting.

Everything.

My job was to take care of the office by completing secretary work. I also take care of the ranch and all five of the horses.

It is a very isolated place, yet it is very peaceful. The ranch was right next to the large and beautiful crisp river called Rio Guadalhorce. The river is the main river in Southern Spain. A lot of things wash up on our land from time to time. Sometimes garbage and other times treasures. Either way, I love to come to the river and relax while I ride on my horse, Midnight.

One night, I was in the kitchen after coming in from the cottage next to our house. Our ranch contains two cottages. One is our home and the other it's the doctor's office.

Business has been tough. My father has been sick with cancer and many of our patients went to see other physicians. I made a hot soup for my father. I stopped at the photo of my mother Maria.

The bright white candle was lit. I did the catholic cross.

"I love you Mami."

The smell of death hit my nostrils as I entered my father's room. He was asleep as the morphine was entering his blood steam from an IV bag. I placed the tray on the nightstand. I placed a kiss on my father's hand. He slowly and tiredly opened his eyes while he weakly smiled at me.

"My Isabel.......you......have to promise me something...."

"Daddy......shh....don't I-"

"Please..... Promise me......you would........keep the ranch........find someone to love......." I started to tear up and whimpered placing his hand on my cheek.

"Daddy don't talk like that."

My father was the only man in my life. The only one I could trust. How could I find somebody other than him? My heart was breaking. I lost my Mami when I was the little age of 10 years old. Now, I am a 23 year old woman seeing my Daddy speak his last words on his death bed.