A Cowboy's Redemption

“If you’re not in a hurry, José will cook anything you want.”

Oh, man, he was so not in a hurry.

“His specialty is pork tamales and chicken enchiladas.”

Hopefully anything José cooked would be better than the prison slop he’d consumed. “I’ll take a tamale and an enchilada.”

“You won’t be disappointed.” She hurried off, her long ponytail swinging behind her.

Left alone he stared out the window, watching the animals in the corral. He’d thought a lot about the day he’d finally be free from prison and none of the scenarios he’d imagined had been anywhere close to this.

And today wasn’t over with.

His ears caught the sound of shoes scuffing against the floor and he spotted a miniature shadow ducking out of sight behind the doorway. Sara returned with a basket of chips, homemade salsa and a glass of water.

“I apologize for not taking your drink order.” Her cheeks turned pink, and he wondered if he made her nervous—and not in a good way. Could people tell he’d just been released from prison?

“I’ll take a beer—” He’d better not drink alcohol in case he got pulled over by the highway patrol. “Make that a Coke.”

“Coming right up.” As soon as she left, the tiny shadow darted from the doorway and hid behind a chair. He munched on a chip, waiting for the little spy to show herself. He didn’t wait long before she popped up next to him. The sprite had dark pigtails and brown eyes.

“My name is Dani. What’s yours?”

“Cruz.”

“Cruz?” She pulled out the chair next to him and climbed onto the seat. “That’s a funny name. I’m five years old. How old are you?”

“Thirty-one.”

“That’s really old. Do you know my grandpa?”

“No, I don’t.” The child was pure innocence, reminding Cruz not to get too close.

“My papa’s a good cook.”

Cruz pushed the basket of chips toward Dani. “Help yourself.”

She grabbed a chip and took tiny bites with her tiny teeth. “My daddy died.”

Shocked at her blunt statement, Cruz fumbled for something to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Mama wants Papa to come live with us.”

Pity for the child and her mother filled Cruz, surprising him. He hadn’t believed he had any compassion left in him, but the little girl’s sweetness tugged at a place deep inside him—a place he’d shut the door on as soon as he’d been locked up inside the prison walls.

“Dani.” The blonde returned. “I’m sorry. My daughter is a chatterbox and we don’t get many customers.” She set the meal and drink on the table then brushed a strand of hair from Dani’s face. “You miss your friends back home, don’t you?”

Cruz wanted to ask where home was but didn’t.

Dani pointed. “Cruz can be my friend.”

Sara quirked an eyebrow and he felt as if he’d just been reprimanded. He held out his hand. “Cruz Rivera.” She shook his hand and the calluses on her palm surprised him.

“Nice to meet you.” Sara switched her attention to her daughter. “Go into the kitchen and help Papa with the dishes.” Sara grabbed her daughter’s hand and helped her from the chair, then they left him to eat in peace.

Cruz savored his first bite of real food, letting the spices soak into his tongue before chewing. A lump formed in his throat as he swallowed. Once the first bite hit his stomach, he devoured the meal.

“Oh, my,” Sara said when she returned with a water pitcher and gaped at his empty plate. “You must have been starving.”

“It was real good.”

“I’ll make sure to tell my father-in-law.”

Without asking a single question Cruz knew more about the lives of three strangers than he knew about himself anymore. Sara set the bill down and walked off.

He left a twenty on the table, then stood. He didn’t want to wait for his change—a hefty tip would be his first good deed since leaving prison. He snuck out of the house, hopped into Shorty’s truck, then started the engine and flipped on the AC. Then he sat and stared at the damned donkeys.

After five minutes he shut off the truck and entered the restaurant where he found Sara clearing his table. Their gazes met across the room. Man, her eyes were pretty.

You’re asking for trouble.

“You forgot your change,” she said.

He shook his head. “I was wondering about the Help Wanted sign in the window.”

“Are you interested?”

The excitement in her voice startled him. “What kind of help do you need?”

Sara glanced toward the kitchen doors, then closed the distance between them. “Let’s talk outside.” She hustled him out the door and he barely registered the electric shock that skittered across his flesh when she brushed against him.

“I need someone to clean up and make a few repairs so we can list the property.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m trying to convince my father-in-law to move to Albuquerque with me and Dani but this place will never sell in its current condition.”

“I could do that.”

“José doesn’t want to sell. He won’t be much help to you,” she warned him. “I can pay ten dollars an hour. I know that’s not much but you can stay in the trailer and use the shower in the house. Meals are free.”

She hadn’t even asked for a reference. Lucky for you.

Cruz figured he could spruce up the place and be back on the road in less than a week with a few hundred dollars in his pocket. “That’s fine.”

Her smile widened but then she suddenly frowned. “You don’t carry a gun, do you?”

Unless he wanted to violate his parole and land back in prison, he didn’t dare possess a weapon. “No, ma’am. You’re welcome to search my truck and my personal belongings.”

“I trust you.”

She shouldn’t.

“I don’t like guns.” She hugged herself and stared into space, then shook her head. “I’m afraid the trailer doesn’t have air-conditioning and most of the windows are broken or missing.”

“Not a problem.” He’d rather breathe fresh air at night.

“While you settle in, I’ll break the news to José.” She squared her shoulders. “He won’t like you being here, but he doesn’t have a say in what I do with my money.”

Yet it was José’s property. Cruz kept his mouth shut and watched Sara’s swinging hips disappear inside the house.

That was the dumbest thing he’d done since he’d been released from prison and considering that he’d only been a free man for a few hours, his future looked more uncertain than ever.

* * *

“WE DON’T NEED HELP,” José grumbled.

Sara removed the clean enchilada pan from his hands and dried it. She wasn’t sure what to make of Cruz Rivera showing up out of the blue asking for work, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “He’s only staying until the property is de-cluttered.”

The guarded expression in the new handyman’s eyes should have scared Sara away, but she was at her wits’ end trying to deal with her stubborn father-in-law. If there was any cause for concern it was her reaction to Cruz—just saying his name in her head made her stomach flutter. He was the first man to have her counting back the months since she’d last had sex—seventeen, to be exact.

Cruz was cowboy and bad boy wrapped together in one sexy, dark, dangerous package. She’d noticed him studying her and the appreciative gleam in his brown eyes had contradicted his distant attitude.

“There’s nothing wrong with this place.” José wasn’t a hoarder but after the death of his son, the sixty-five-year-old had grown depressed and had little energy or enthusiasm for chores. As a result, boxes and empty bulk-food containers had piled up. Papago Springs didn’t have trash service and the handful of residents either burned their garbage or hauled it to the dump. José hadn’t made a trip to the landfill in ages.

When she and Dani had arrived a month ago, she’d had all she could handle cleaning the house, which hadn’t seen a dust rag or mop in forever. She’d taken a leave of absence from her pediatric-nurse position at The Children’s Center at Presbyterian and she had only four weeks left to convince José to move to Albuquerque before the clinic filled her position.

“Cruz will take the garbage to the dump and tackle what needs fixing before we list with a Realtor.”

“I’m not moving.”

“Dani and I miss you.”

Her father-in-law made an angry noise in his throat but held his tongue. She understood his reluctance to leave. Tony had been his only child and had been born in the house. And José’s wife, Sofia, had died here. There were decades of memories within the walls, but that was all that remained—memories. Sara wanted José to make new memories with her and Dani.

Since Tony’s death a year and a half ago, Dani could use the extra attention. And it would be such a relief not to have to pay for after-school care or babysitters when Sara worked overtime and weekend shifts at the clinic. With only her income to cover the rent and bills, money was tight. She had Tony’s life insurance in case of an emergency, but she didn’t want to use any more than she had to, because it was earmarked for Dani’s future college tuition. Education had been important to her husband—he’d been the first member of his family to attend college and he’d wanted his daughter to follow in his footsteps.

“You and Dani could move here,” José said.

They’d had this discussion before. “I’ve got a good job in Albuquerque and Dani loves her school.” Her daughter had been three and a half when her father died, and although she professed to love him, she didn’t really remember him. Tony had spent the majority of his spare time volunteering at the free medical clinic in the barrio. When he’d died, Dani hadn’t felt his loss as sharply as Sara had.

“If I leave, who will run the restaurant?” José asked.

She swallowed her frustration. One, maybe two people a week stopped in to eat at the cantina.

“And I can’t leave the animals behind,” he said.

Animals that other people had asked him to watch while they took vacations but then never returned to claim. “We’ll find good homes for the mules and the horse.” When he remained silent, she said, “What can it hurt to give the place a face-lift whether you move or not?”

“It’s a waste of good money.”

“It’s my money. I’ll decide if it’s wasted or not.”

“How come Antonio never mentioned how stubborn you are?” The corner of José’s mouth lifted in a shaky smile.

Sara’s heart ached for the old man and she hugged him. He’d been more of a father to her than her own. Her parents had divorced when she’d been a teenager and she’d had no contact with her father since. When Sara had graduated from high school and entered college, her mother met and married a Frenchman, then moved overseas with him. She only saw her mother and stepfather every few years.

“Things will work out, José. You’ll see.”

José and Dani were all that was left of Sara’s real family and she was determined to keep them together.

Chapter Two

As 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.”