Читать книгу A Cowboy's Redemption - Marin Thomas - Страница 11
ОглавлениеAs far as rusted-out single-wide trailers went, this one was a five-star accommodation compared to where Cruz had laid his head last night. The windowless tin box allowed for plenty of airflow and made the mobile home feel less confining. There were no appliances in the kitchen and only a trickle of rusty water ran out of the faucet when he flipped it on.
Still better than a prison cell.
“My mom says you’re gonna help Papa.”
The high-pitched little voice startled Cruz. He spun so fast he lost his balance and crashed his hip against the Formica countertop. Unbelievable. He’d faced down gangbangers and thugs, yet this pip-squeak had managed to sneak up on him.
He took the stack of clean sheets that were weighing down her arms. “Thank you.”
Without waiting for an invitation, Dani walked over to the built-in dinette table and slid onto the bench seat. “My papa doesn’t want you to help him.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded.
“Why doesn’t he want my help?”
Her narrow shoulders moved up and down. Cruz doubted Sara would approve of him being alone with Dani. “Isn’t your mother looking for you?”
Dani’s gaze darted to the living room, where a coffee table covered in an inch of dust sat in front of an olive-green sofa. Then her gaze swung back to Cruz and she blurted, “Are you a daddy?”
“No.” Several homies in the barrio had gotten their girlfriends pregnant in high school but after seeing how their lives had changed, he’d promised himself that he’d never let a girl trap him with a pregnancy. He’d always carried condoms in his wallet—that is, before he’d landed in jail. He supposed one of the first things he should do when Sara paid him was buy a box of rubbers—in case he ended up in a buckle bunny’s bed when he returned to the circuit.
An image of Sara flashed before his eyes. She was the furthest thing from a rodeo groupie and way out of his league. A guy like him wasn’t good enough for a widow trying to raise a child on her own.
“A bad man shot my daddy.”
“Dani?” José poked his head inside the trailer and glanced between Cruz and his granddaughter. “Did you give Mr. Rivera the sheets?”
Dani nodded.
“Go on, now. Your mama’s looking for you,” José said.
Dani rolled her eyes and Cruz kept a straight face as she scooted out from behind the table. She stopped in front of him, her big brown gaze beseeching. “If you feed the donkeys, can I help?”
Cruz glanced at José. The suspicious glint in the older man’s eyes warned that he wasn’t making a social call.
“We’ll talk about the donkeys later.” José took Dani’s hand and helped her down the steps.
Cruz watched the kid scamper across the dirt and duck inside the back of the house. When she was safely out of hearing range, he gave his full attention to Sara’s father-in-law.
“I don’t want your help,” José said.
“Say the word and I’ll leave.”
Cruz watched the old man struggle—his lips moved but only a harsh breath escaped his mouth, then the fire in his eyes sputtered out. “My daughter-in-law is too trusting.” He waved a hand before his face. “Did she ask where you’re from?”
“No, sir.” Cruz would answer José honestly if he wanted to know, but he wasn’t volunteering any information.
“Did she ask where you were going?”
“No, sir.”
“Did she ask why you wanted a job?”
“No, sir.”
He shook his head. “For all I know, you just got out of prison.”
The blood drained from his face, but Cruz held José’s gaze.
“I’m keeping an eye on you.”
“Yes, sir.”
José left, following the path Dani took to the house.
José didn’t trust Cruz and he was smart not to. For all intents and purposes, Cruz had lied when he hadn’t confirmed José’s suspicions about being released from prison. If that wasn’t enough incentive to head down the road, then learning that Sara was too trusting of strangers and her husband had been shot should have been. He didn’t need trouble and these folks didn’t need him.
He grabbed the sheets off the counter, intent on returning them before hitting the road, but a whiff of their clean scent paralyzed him. He buried his face in the cotton and closed his eyes. The sheets smelled like spring, not chlorine and musty body odor. He pictured a room with a queen-size bed covered in the blue flower print. Then he imagined himself sinking onto the mattress and burying his face in a cloud of blond hair.
He set the linens on the counter—it was best if he left without saying goodbye. Tonight he’d sleep in his truck in a parking lot far away from Papago Springs. Halfway to his pickup Sara crossed his path.
“There you are.” She offered a smile. “Dani mentioned helping you with the donkeys and that reminded me that I needed to discuss the repairs I’d like you to tackle.”
Tell her you changed your mind.
Then she set her hand on his arm and any thought of leaving vanished.
“You aren’t afraid of stubborn donkeys, are you?” She smiled.
He would have laughed at her teasing if her fingers hadn’t felt like a lit match against his skin.
Chill out. You haven’t touched a woman in over a decade. No wonder his testosterone was jumping off the charts. He wanted to believe that any woman he came in contact with would produce the same physical response, but he suspected not. Sara was different from any female he’d known. Pure goodness shone from her eyes, tugging at his protective instincts. And the best way to protect her was to beat it.
“I’d like you to replace the missing slats on the corral, and several windows in the house won’t open. And it would be great if you could not only clean up after the animals, but feed them, too.”
“I don’t think—”
She talked over him. “I’m hoping that once the place is picked up and a Realtor tells my father-in-law what he can get for the property, he’ll change his mind about selling. He’s all alone now and it’s better if he lives with me and Dani in Albuquerque.” She spread her arms wide. “But we won’t find a buyer for this place in its current condition and I’m afraid I only know how to fix children, not corrals, sheds and fences.”
“Fix children?” Her eyes lit up and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“I’m a pediatric nurse.”
No wonder José claimed she was too trusting of others. She took care of kids—honest, loving, innocent little people.
“Are you a rodeo cowboy?” She nodded to his worn boots. His twelve-year-old Justin boots had sat in a brown paper bag until he’d reclaimed them earlier today.
“Saddle-bronc rider.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Are you any good?”
“Decent.”
“I’m sure the things on my list won’t take more than a few days to complete. I’ll pay you in cash on Friday before you head off to your next rodeo.”
“You know much about rodeo?” Why was he encouraging conversation?
“A little. When my husband was in med school, he got suckered into entering a bull-riding competition by his friends and I got a crash course in emergency medicine.” She rubbed the toe of her sandal over a pebble in the dirt. “Antonio died a year and a half ago.”
“I’m sorry.” For a lot more than Sara would ever know.
“I think the best place to begin would be the corral and the livestock pens. The garbage cans are in the storage shed and the burn barrel is at the back of the property.”
Tell her you’re leaving.
“The dump is twenty-five miles north, so anything that’s too large to burn will have to be taken there.” She drew in a breath, then exhaled loudly. “Whether you believe it or not, you’re a godsend. I don’t know if He sent you—” she pointed at the sky “—or if fate made you stop for a bite to eat. Whatever the reason, you being here will help us all move on.”
Dumbfounded, Cruz watched Sara return to the house. How the heck could he walk away from her, Dani and José now? He’d stay—until he cleaned up the property, then he’d get the hell out of Dodge before he did something he’d regret. Like kiss Sara Mendez until the sadness disappeared from her eyes.
* * *
“WHAT ARE YOU staring at, Mama?”
Sara jumped back from the window. “Nothing.” Her daughter had caught her spying on Cruz—more specifically, admiring the way his snug jeans fit his muscular backside. She could have stood there for hours, watching him work.
“I’m bored.”
“Did you finish your work sheets?” Sara had purchased a preschool book for Dani before leaving Albuquerque. Since she’d had to withdraw her from class in order to spend the summer in Papago Springs, she didn’t want Dani falling behind the other kids before she entered kindergarten in the fall.
“I don’t wanna do work sheets. I wanna help Mr. Cruz feed the donkeys.”
Two days had passed since she’d hired Cruz and she’d been amazed and pleased by how much he’d accomplished. The cowboy was up at the crack of dawn and went to work without breakfast, only stopping to eat when she brought him a plate of food.
“You might get in Mr. Cruz’s way.” This morning he’d removed several broken boards from the corral and replaced them with wood he’d found in the storage shed. Tools and hardware littered the ground and Sara didn’t want Dani accidentally cutting herself or stepping on a rusty nail.
“Pleeease...”
“Stop whining, Dani!” Sara rubbed her brow, regretting that she’d snapped at her daughter. She blamed her short temper on José. Every chance he got, her father-in-law grumbled and complained about the work Cruz did. He thought the broken boards gave the corral character. Then, when Cruz had removed all the donkey poo from the ground and thrown it in big trash bags to take to the dump, José had grumbled that it was a waste of good manure and should be used for composting. “C’mon.” She reached for Dani’s hand. “Let’s see if there’s something Mr. Cruz can find for you to do.”
Dani’s expression brightened and Sara’s heart swelled with love. Tony had been taken from them too early, but she drew strength from her daughter and she credited Dani with helping her move on.
When they stepped outside, Sara shielded her eyes from the midday sun. Keeping hold of Dani’s hand, she led her over to the corral, where Cruz worked with his back to them. She stopped short of the tools strewn on the ground and waited until he quit hammering to speak.
“Mr. Cruz,” Sara said.
He glanced over his shoulder and Sara sucked in a quiet breath at the way his gaze rolled down her body before returning to her face.
“Is there any chance you might have a chore Dani could help with?”
He crossed the enclosure, stopping in front of them. His shirt was soaked through and for an instant she wished he’d take it off and give her a glimpse of the muscle hiding beneath. The temperature was rising but it hadn’t gotten so hot that her mouth should feel like a dry riverbed.
“I’m a good helper,” Dani said.
His lips quivered and Sara was disappointed when he didn’t smile. She suspected a full-blown grin from him would knock her feet out from under her.
“I found two cans of white paint in the shed. Dani can help paint the corral.”
Her daughter tugged on Sara’s T-shirt. “I wanna paint. Can I paint? Please can I paint?”
She brushed Dani’s bangs out of her eyes. “Go change into the shorts with the tear in the pocket and the T-shirt with the Cheerios box on the front. If you get paint on those clothes, it won’t matter.”
“Yay!” Dani raced into the house.
“Are you sure she won’t be in your way?” Sara studied his face, wondering about his age. The lines etched next to his eyes and his chiseled jaw had her guessing between thirty-five and forty.
“I can’t guarantee she’ll keep the paint off herself, but if that’s okay with you, then I don’t mind,” he said.
She tore her attention from his face and stared at the pearl snaps on his sweaty cotton shirt, then her gaze dropped to the worn leather belt that hugged his hips.
“I’m collecting a pile of garbage for the dump if you have anything to add to it.”
She snapped out of her trance. If he noticed her ogling him, he was too much of a gentleman to mention it. “I’ll go through the house and see.” There was nothing left to say, but Sara’s feet remained firmly planted. If that wasn’t perplexing enough, she didn’t understand why he hadn’t gone back to working.
His eyes shifted to the house, then to her, then to the ground before returning to her face. “Dani said her father was shot.”
Sara’s breath caught in her throat and suddenly the roots on the bottom of her shoes broke off, and she swayed.
“Hey, are you okay?” Cruz grabbed her arm. “Sorry. It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”
It took her a moment to find her voice—not because of his question. It wasn’t her deceased husband’s memory, but Cruz’s touch that had rendered her temporarily speechless.
“Antonio volunteered at a free medical clinic in a tough area of Albuquerque. One night while he was closing up, two local gangs got into a shoot-out and a stray bullet came through the window and struck him in the chest. When he hadn’t arrived home by ten o’clock, I called the police, but he was already dead when they arrived.”
“I’m sorry.”
She cleared her throat. “The next day the police decided it had been a stray bullet from a Los Locos gang member that had killed Tony.”
Cruz stiffened. “I better get to work.” He disappeared inside the shed, leaving Sara gaping after him.
She made him uncomfortable. All the signs were there—he barely made eye contact. He always took a step back when she approached him. And he answered her questions with as few words as possible. She sensed he was hiding something. But what?
It’s none of your concern. Turning off her desire to help others wasn’t easy. Cruz isn’t asking for your help. If there was ever a man who should wear an approach-at-your-own-risk sign around his neck, it was Cruz.
When Sara entered the kitchen, Dani raced past her. “Mind your manners, young lady, and do what Mr. Cruz says.”
“I will!” A slamming door punctuated her daughter’s exit.
Sara went into the dining room and stood in the shadows near the window facing the corral. She watched Cruz place a can of paint on the ground at Dani’s feet. Next, he demonstrated how to dip the brush into the can and wipe off the excess paint. Dani followed his example and whatever he said to her made her beam at him. Cruz might be uncomfortable around Sara but he didn’t seem to mind Dani’s company.
He carried the second can of paint to another section of fence and worked there. The corral should be torn down but the animals had to be contained somewhere. After a few minutes, Dani set her brush aside, then walked over to Cruz and sat in the dirt. While he worked, she chatted and Sara wished she could hear their conversation. Dani was a friendly child and had inherited her outgoing personality from her father. Antonio had believed helping the needy would make him immune to violence and crime in the barrio. He’d been wrong. Dead wrong.
“Are you lonely, hija?”
Sara’s father-in-law had an uncanny ability to read her mind. Forcing a smile, she turned from the window. “A little.” In truth she was beyond lonely and it had begun long before Antonio had died. Once Dani had been born, her husband had mistakenly believed their daughter would keep Sara so busy she wouldn’t notice the long hours he put in at the hospital during the week and then at the clinic on weekends. But Sara had noticed and she’d begged him to spend more time with her and Dani, but her husband had chosen to help strangers over his family.
“He’s not the right man for you,” José said.
She swallowed a gasp and glanced at the window. “I’m not interested in Mr. Rivera.” At least not in a happy-ever-after way. “Why would you think that?”
“Because your eyes follow him everywhere.”
This was not a conversation she should be having with her father-in-law. “I want to be sure Dani doesn’t make a nuisance of herself.”
“And I will make sure you don’t bother Mr. Rivera.” José turned to leave but Sara stopped him.
“Wait.” She didn’t want this subject hanging between them when they returned to Albuquerque. There would come a time when she brought a man home, and she didn’t want her relationship with José to be adversely affected by that. “Antonio has been dead for over a year and half.”
José’s stern face crumbled and she rushed to his side, coaxing him to sit in a chair before taking the seat next to him. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that the son he’d put on a pedestal all these years had been human and full of faults just like them. “I loved Antonio very much.”
“I fell in love with Sofia in high school.” He waved a hand in the air. “When she got sick I stayed by her side.”
“You were a devoted husband.” Sara hadn’t been around when Antonio’s mother had suffered a stroke and lingered almost a year before passing away.
“Those were hard times, but I never stopped loving her.”
“Antonio will always own a piece of my heart, José. But I have to think about Dani’s future.” At his confused expression she said, “I don’t want her to grow up without a father.” To be honest Dani didn’t know what she was missing since she’d hardly seen her father the first few years of her life. But Sara wanted more for Dani than to be raised by a single mother. Her years working with sick children and their families had proven that kids with two loving parents fared far better facing adversity than those with only one caregiver.
“Dani has me,” he said.
“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about living with us in Albuquerque?”
He dropped his gaze.
Sara didn’t push the subject. “I’m not looking to marry anytime soon, but I do plan to start dating again, if the right man comes along.” She resisted the urge to check the window. Cruz Rivera was not the right man, but he was a man who made her pulse race. And he was the first man since Tony’s death who made her think of herself—her own needs and yearnings. It was probably best that he clean up the property and leave. Even if José approved of her desire to date again, Cruz was more than she could handle.
“I will think about moving to Albuquerque.” José shoved his chair back and shuffled from the room. His footsteps echoed in the hallway that led to the bedrooms at the back of the house. Anytime Antonio came up in conversation, the talk drained José and he retreated to his room.
Sara returned to her post by the window. A good portion of the corral had been painted and it appeared Dani had given up helping, preferring to follow Cruz around and talk his ear off. Her gaze homed in on the handyman. His movements were sure and efficient—he’d have the wooden slats painted in record time. The speed at which he worked had her believing that he couldn’t get away from Papago Springs fast enough, which made it all the more interesting that he was still here.
Maybe he has no place to go.
She’d love to learn more about him—where he came from. Where he was headed. If there was a woman in his life.
She knew one thing—he wasn’t sticking around because she did his laundry. She’d offered to wash his clothes, but he’d declined.
Maybe he was still here because of the food. José was an amazing cook. Each night she piled Cruz’s plate high with food, which he ate in the trailer by himself. And each morning she’d find the previous night’s empty plate sitting on the bench by the back door.
It really didn’t matter why Cruz was here. It mattered only that with his help she’d be able to convince José to let go of this place. But by then Sara had a sneaking suspicion Cruz Rivera would be long gone.
