A Cowboy's Redemption

“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.

Chapter Three

Cruz spent Friday afternoon repairing the lean-to for the donkeys and the horse. He’d straightened the once-sagging overhang and set two additional posts in the ground that allowed him to extend the covering, providing more shade for the animals.

“Cruz.”

Wiping his sweaty brow across his shirt sleeve he glanced in the direction of Sara’s voice. Then he almost swallowed his tongue. She wore a bright turquoise sundress and pretty silver sandals with rhinestones. She’d done something different with her hair—instead of her usual ponytail she wore it loose, the long strands falling over her shoulders in gentle waves.

“I’m taking José into Las Cruces to see his doctor.”

“He’s not feeling well?”

“He’s fine. He has a follow-up appointment to check his blood pressure.” She nibbled her lower lip then blurted, “Would you mind if I left Dani here?”

Before he had a chance to object, she rushed on. “It’s a long ride and then a long wait in the clinic. Dani’s watching a video. She shouldn’t be any trouble. She knows to stay in the house and I’ve put the Closed sign in the front window and locked the door.”

“I still have work to do out here.” He hoped she’d take the hint that he’d rather not keep an eye on her daughter.

“Dani will be fine in the house. And I made supper. There’s a casserole in the fridge. All you have to do is put a serving on a plate and microwave it.”

The back door banged open and José stepped outside, wearing a grumpy face. Sara would have her hands full with her father-in-law, so he caved. “Sure. Dani can stay.” He’d finish the lean-to then head inside.

“Thank you.” She spoke to José. “Ready?”

Cruz couldn’t hear what the old man grumbled. Once they drove off, he nailed the final board in place and cleaned up his mess. Toolbox in hand, he entered the house through the back door.

“Dani?”

“Yeah?”

He followed the voice down the hall and poked his head inside the first bedroom. Dani was sprawled across the bed, watching the TV on the dresser.

“I’ll be inside the house fixing the windows. Holler if you need me.”

“Okay,” she said, her gaze glued to the program.

Cruz returned to the kitchen where he’d left José’s toolbox and pulled the note paper from his pocket. Yesterday Sara had handed him a list for the house. The windows in her bedroom at the end of the hall needed his attention. He opened the door to the room and the smell of her perfume washed over him. His gaze zeroed in on the bed’s bright yellow comforter and sheets. His imagination took off and he dreamed of easing Sara onto the mattress and doing things with her and to her that he had no business thinking. He shifted his attention to the perfume bottles and beauty supplies littering the top of her dresser.

Still he hesitated to enter her private sanctuary, not wanting to contaminate it with his presence.

“What’s the matter?”

Cruz glanced down. How long had Dani been standing next to him? Man, the kid was quiet. “I thought you were watching TV?”

She shrugged. “I’ve seen Frozen a hundred times. Have you?”

“No.”

“How come you’re just standing here?”

He couldn’t very well confess that he felt as though he’d violate all that was pure and good about her mother if he entered the room. “I can’t remember which window is stuck.”

“Both of ’em.” Dani squeezed past him, then tried to push the window next to the bed open. She groaned and grunted and her face turned red with effort, then she gave up and crawled onto the bed.

Careful not to touch anything, Cruz crossed the room and set the tool kit on the floor, then tested the window.

“Told you so,” Dani said when the window didn’t open.

Someone had painted the frame with the window closed and the paint had sealed it shut. Using a flathead screwdriver and a rubber mallet, he chipped away at the paint.

“You’re making a mess.”

“I know. Can you bring me a dust pan and a broom?”

“What’s a dust pan?”

“How about a broom and an old newspaper?”

Dani slid off the bed and left the room. After scraping off the layers of paint, he used his muscle to pry the window open.

“You did it.” Dani dragged a small apartment-size vacuum into the room. “My mom uses this to suck stuff up.”

“Smart girl.”

“I know.” She crawled back onto the bed.

When Cruz finished vacuuming the paint chips, he noticed Dani’s glum expression. “Do you miss your friends back home?”

“I only have two friends.”

That’s all Cruz had. Or used to have. Maybe one day he’d look up Alonso and Victor. For now he was leaving his past alone. “What are your friends’ names?”

“Tommy and Marissa. We sit together during story time and Tommy always shares his pretzels with me at lunch.”

There was something about Dani that relaxed Cruz. Maybe because she was just a child and when she looked at him, she only saw a man trying to help her mother and grandfather. Not a man with a secret.

“Looks like I’m finished here.”

“What else are you gonna fix?” she asked.

“That’s it for now.” He wanted to take a quick shower, then throw in a load of laundry and warm up supper for him and Dani before Sara and José returned.

“Will you play Hi Ho Cherry-O with me?”

“What’s that?”

“A game.”

“Why don’t you set up the game on the kitchen table while I grab a shower.”

“Okay.” Dani went to her bedroom and Cruz headed to the trailer for his toiletries and the bag of dirty laundry, then returned to the house.

He showered with his own soap and shampoo. Sara had given him a clean towel at the beginning of the week and he knotted the terry cloth around his waist. Standing in front of the mirror, he studied his face. He didn’t know who the man staring back at him was anymore. He recognized the face, but he felt different inside. A huge pit rested at the bottom of his stomach. And it had nothing to do with finally being free. The pit had Sara written all over it—she almost made him forget his promise to Shorty.

After he shrugged into his briefs and jeans, he realized he didn’t have a clean T-shirt. He’d have to go bare-chested while he did laundry. He left the bathroom with the duffel and went out to the screened-in porch where the washer and dryer sat. He shoved all his clothes—whites and darks—into the machine, then set the temperature on warm and closed the lid.

“What’s that?”

Damn. Cruz knew without asking what Dani was referring to. He should have put on a dirty shirt while he waited for his clothes to finish. He faced the munchkin with pigtails and noticed they were askew. She must have been tugging on them again. “What’s what?” he asked, hoping to buy time.

“That picture on your back.”

“It’s a sun.” When he’d turned seventeen, he’d had the ancient Zia sun symbol used on the New Mexico flag tattooed on the back of his shoulder. A capital L had been etched into his skin above the symbol and below it—for the name of the gang he’d been trying to pledge. At the time he hadn’t known a school teacher would throw a wrench in his plans and he’d never complete his gang initiation.

“It’s not a very pretty sun.”

“You’re right. I should have it taken off.”

“Can I see it again?” she asked.

Sara and José wouldn’t be pleased with Dani’s interest in the tattoo, but maybe if he didn’t make a big deal of it, she wouldn’t blab to her mother. He crouched down.

“How come there’s two letter Ls?”

“It’s the letter of my mother’s and grandmother’s names,” he lied.

“What’s their names?”

“Lina and Lolita.” Time to change the subject. He didn’t want to think about his family, who’d written him off when he’d gone to prison. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded.

“Let’s find out what your mother made for supper.” He followed Dani into the kitchen where she opened the refrigerator.

“What is it?” Her big brown eyes blinked.

“A casserole.”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know.” After scooping a spoonful onto a plate, he put it in the microwave. While the food warmed he poured Dani a glass of milk and got out silverware. When he set the meal on the kitchen table next to the board game, he said, “Blow on it first so you don’t burn your tongue.”

She climbed onto the chair and pushed the food around on her plate. “It’s crazy noodle casserole,” she said. “It’s got a bunch of different noodles in it and spaghetti sauce and cheese.”

“I like spaghetti sauce.” He put a second plate with a bigger serving into the microwave for himself.

Dani slurped her milk. “How did you know I like milk?”

“Don’t most kids like milk?”

She nodded.

He brought his plate to the table and joined her. He was uncomfortable sitting at the table without a shirt. When he heard the washer stop, he said, “Be right back.” He put a single T-shirt into the dryer, then, after a few minutes, took it out and tugged the damp material over his head before tossing the rest of the load into the dryer. When he returned to the table Dani had finished her meal.

“You want seconds?” he asked.

“I want cake.”

“Did your mother bake a cake?”

“Papa did.”

“What kind?”

“Chocolate. I helped frost it.”

A sharp pain caught Cruz in the chest. Chocolate cake had been his younger brother’s favorite. Their mother had stopped baking cakes after Emilio had been killed in a drive-by shooting. “What do you say we wash our dishes first, then I’ll cut you a piece of cake?”

Dani slid off the chair and carried her dish to the sink. “Are you gonna have a piece, too?”

“I’m full from supper. I’ll have one later.” He set his dishes in the sink, too. “Do you want to wash or dry?”

“Dry.”

Cruz moved a chair closer to the counter and lifted Dani onto the seat. “Where’s the dish soap?”

“In there.” She pointed to the cabinet below the sink.

“Dishcloth?”

“Papa uses this.” She handed him the scrub brush already sitting in the sink and he cleaned a plate and rinsed it. “I guess you need a towel.”

Dani pointed to the drawer next to his hip.

He handed her a towel and they worked side by side.

“My daddy never washed dishes.”

“Guys don’t like to do dishes.”

“Papa does dishes.” She dried off a plate and placed it next to her on the counter.

“You’re lucky to have a papa.” The only extended family Cruz had been in contact with growing up had been his paternal grandmother and she’d died when he turned twelve. Probably a good thing, because she would have been disappointed that Cruz had followed in his father’s footsteps and landed in prison—no matter that he’d taken the fall for his friend.

A horn beeped, alerting Cruz that Sara and José had returned.

“Mama’s home!” Dani jumped down from the chair and raced outside.

Cruz made quick work of finishing the dishes and wiping off the countertops.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” Sara said when she entered the kitchen and spotted the dish rag in his hand.

“Thanks for supper.” He nodded to the fridge. “Dani hasn’t had dessert yet.”

“Would you like a piece of cake?” She dropped her purse on the table.

“No, thanks. I’ll grab my laundry and get out of your way.” He scooted past her, holding his breath so he wouldn’t inhale her perfume. On the porch he stuffed his still damp clothes into his bag and left. He spotted Dani and José at the corral but ducked inside the trailer before either of them noticed him.

He spent the next ten minutes spreading his damp jeans across the counter and kitchen table, then he hung his T-shirts in the closet and left the door open. Without air-conditioning they’d be dry in no time.

Restless, he paced across the room. When José and Dani went back into the house, he’d sit on the trailer steps and enjoy the night air. He didn’t mind sleeping in the single-wide—it was bigger than his prison cell—but the tin box didn’t cool off until after the sun went down. It wasn’t until he sat on the sofa that he noticed the three one-hundred-dollar bills along with a note on the table.

Thanks for all your help this week. Hope it’s enough to cover your entry fee wherever you rodeo tomorrow. Sara.

The money was more than enough, but Cruz didn’t want to rodeo. Yeah, he’d promised Shorty he’d hit the circuit and he was determined to make good on that vow, but not yet. He hadn’t pictured himself as a handyman, but the hard work this week had been therapeutic and had kept him from thinking about his time in prison and why he’d ended up there. He’d never be able to ward off the memories during a long drive to a rodeo.

Memories of his buddies Alonso and Victor. A part of him yearned to reconnect with the guys. But he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing them, especially Victor. Cruz was still pissed that he’d followed Vic to Salvador Castro’s house. If Cruz had let Vic go by himself to confront the gang leader, he wouldn’t have ended up in prison. But Vic wouldn’t back down and their friendship demanded that Cruz be his wingman. Vic had wanted Salvador to take responsibility for getting Vic’s sister pregnant. Threats and insults were exchanged at the Five Points intersection in downtown Albuquerque. When Vic had pulled a gun from beneath his jacket, no one had been more surprised than Cruz. Fearing his friend would take things too far, Cruz wrestled the gun from Vic’s hand, but then the weapon had discharged accidentally, the bullet hitting Salvador in the shoulder.

The police arrived and Cruz was put into the backseat of a patrol car and whisked away.

What’s done is done.

Yeah, there was nothing he could do to change the past. He could only move forward. And he would. Eventually. He’d finished everything on Sara’s to-do list, but he didn’t want to leave her, José or Dani. Not yet.

He’d been in Papago Springs less than a week but already Sara’s kindness, Dani’s chatter and even José’s moodiness had begun to fill the hollow feeling he’d carried in his gut for longer than he could remember. Each day the lost feeling inside him shrunk a little. For now he was right where he needed to be—safe from the outside world, sleeping like a baby at night.

Tomorrow he’d find a chore that needed doing, so he’d have an excuse not to rodeo.

* * *

SARA WOKE AT the crack of dawn Saturday morning worried Cruz would take off without saying goodbye. He’d been a huge help in cleaning up the property and the three hundred dollars’ pay was hardly much money, but the man could eat—oh, could he eat. Their grocery bill for the week had skyrocketed. José was an incredible cook, but good grief, Cruz acted as if he’d been deprived of decent food for years.

As soon as the coffeepot stopped dripping, she filled a foam cup with the hot brew and put a plastic lid on it so Cruz could take it on the road with him. She left the house certain she’d find him packing his belongings in the back of his pickup. In the four days he’d been in Papago Springs, she’d learned very little about him. She admitted she was nosy and wanted to know where he’d grown up. Did he have family? A girlfriend? A child from a previous marriage?

Does it matter?

No, she supposed not, but feminine curiosity had gotten the best of her and she secretly wanted him to stick around longer. So did Dani. Last night when she’d tucked her daughter into bed, Dani had chatted about her and Cruz doing the dishes together and how he’d promised to play a board game with her but Sara and José had come home and interrupted them.

Cruz’s truck still sat parked at the side of the house, so Sara veered off toward the trailer. She knocked softly on the door. No answer. She poked her head inside. “Cruz? Are you up?” Silence. The faint sound of hammering echoed in the air and she headed to the dilapidated barn across the property. There were gaping holes in the structure and part of the roof had caved in a decade ago.

When she entered the structure, she stopped in her tracks and stared at Cruz’s shirtless, glistening bare torso as he sorted through lumber. With each board he tossed onto a nearby pile, his biceps bunched and his pecs winked at her. She swallowed hard when desire gripped her gut. The hot sensation spread through her limbs, leaving her weak and trembling.

He must have sensed her scrutiny, because he froze, his arms above his head, a board balanced in his hands. His gaze collided with hers and no matter how she tried to shift her attention to his face, her eyeballs remained glued to his dark nipples and hairless chest.

Too bad rodeo cowboys didn’t ride without their shirts on—she just might give up nursing and become a buckle bunny.

Someone had to speak. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Sorting through the wood pile.” He dropped the piece in his hands, then removed his work gloves and wiped his sweaty brow. He stared at his T-shirt a few feet away but made no move to put it on.

“I thought you were rodeoing today.” She lifted the cup. “I made your coffee to go.”

“I decided not to.” He stepped forward and took the drink. “Thanks.”

“Why the change of heart?”

He ignored her question and waved at the wood pile. “I noticed the boards earlier in the week. Most of them are in decent shape. You should be able to get some money for them.”

“I appreciate the thought, but...”