A Cowboy's Redemption

“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 (#ulink_1d703210-6edb-5597-bc36-85e254e3ea99)

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?”