A Cowboy's Redemption

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.