Mendoza's Return. Susan Crosby

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Mendoza's Return - Susan Crosby


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pretty promise ring he’d given Melina their first Christmas at college, only to have it mailed back to him some months later, a one-word note included. The tangible, devastating memory of a promise broken.

      He didn’t owe her anything, even if she was still the one he’d never gotten out of his system, and still the sexiest woman he’d ever met. But he could do this. He would try to help young Elliot but also wipe the slate clean with Melina.

      He would be able to get rid of the ring, get it out of sight and out of mind.

      Then he would finally be free to move on.

       Chapter Three

      Rafe pulled into his garage a little after seven o’clock that evening. He saw the living room lights were on even before he spotted his father’s pickup. He was probably sanding woodwork, a tedious process on the way to restoring the hundred-year-old house in a neighborhood where the homes were old but well maintained. Rafe had recently furnished one of his four bedrooms for his father, who’d become a fixture, not always spending the night, but staying often enough to warrant a bed of his own. Luis Mendoza had seemed to age ten years since losing his wife, Rafe’s mother, to pneumonia a year ago.

      Rafe unlocked the back door and stepped into a dark kitchen, turning on lights as he went.

      “Hey, Dad, I’m home!” he called out above the sound of sandpaper scraping wood.

      “In the living room!”

      There was no evidence that his father had eaten—no dishes, no jumbled-up McDonald’s bag in the trash. Rafe passed through the dining room and on into the living room. “How’s it going?”

      “Almost ready to stain.” From where he was kneeling he arched his back, stretching and groaning.

      That’s how I’ll look in thirty years, Rafe thought, although the same could be true of his three brothers, as well. Their mother’s DNA showed up in other ways—drive, work ethic, sociability and deep love of family, but that could also be said of their father, too. Rafe missed his mom more than he could say, so he could only imagine the depth of his father’s loss.

      Rafe had expected to have the kind of marriage his parents had—with Melina. He still grieved the loss of that dream, and the children who hadn’t come.

      Rafe laid his suit jacket over the back of his leather sofa then crouched next to his father and rubbed his back. “How long have you been at it?”

      “Couple hours.” He angled away from Rafe’s touch and gestured to the entryway table. “Melina stopped by, left you some books and a DVD.”

      “She said she would.” Rafe checked out the materials. The DVD was marked “Elliot Anderson.” He took the disc out of the case and headed to his television. “I haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

      “Nope.” Luis stood. When he turned sideways he almost disappeared. He’d probably lost thirty pounds, twenty of which he couldn’t afford to lose. “Is that the way the wind’s blowing these days? Melina Lawrence again?”

      “It’s a business thing. I might be helping her out with something.”

      “She was gone for your mother’s funeral, but she came to see me as soon as she got back.” He brushed wood dust from his shirt. “I don’t understand why she hasn’t gotten married yet. She’s about the best catch in Red Rock, that’s for sure. Doesn’t know how beautiful she is. Loves people. Smile that lights up the world.”

      Rafe hadn’t seen much of that famous smile since he’d returned, but he remembered it, as well as the slow, sexy one she’d perfected, the one he’d likened to her crooking a come-hither finger at him.

      “I’m surprised you’re even talking to her, though, son. You suffered a lot.”

      “Everyone moves on, Dad. You seem to be okay around her.”

      “For me, sure. But not for you. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

      “I’m okay. But thanks for the support.”

      He slid the DVD into the player then hit the start button. The quality wasn’t bad, but the camera was a pretty good distance away.

      “That Beau Bandero?” his father asked, coming up beside Rafe.

      “In the flesh.”

      “A lot of flesh, too. Heard he’s been drinking a lot. It shows— Did he just hit that kid?

      Rafe didn’t answer, wanting to hear the exchange between Beau and Elliot, which happened just as Melina had described. “What do you think, Dad? Intentional?”

      “Don’t know. Play it again.”

      They both watched intently, then watched it again. One more time. “I can’t tell,” Rafe said.

      “Beau’s got his problems, but I don’t think hitting a kid with a ball is something he’d do.”

      Rafe eyed his father curiously. “You’ve always championed Beau.”

      Luis shrugged and moved away, picking up his sanding tools. “I know what he had to put up with at home. Mr. Bandero was hard on him. Working at his ranch, I saw it all the time.”

      “Well, Beau’s lucky that people aren’t willing to drive their kids to San Antonio to play ball. Some parents will put up with a lot to have their kid trained by a former big leaguer.” Rafe turned off the DVD without ejecting it, figuring he’d watch it a few more times later. “I’m going to heat up some leftover pizza. Sit down, Dad. Put your feet up for a while. You don’t need to work all day at the ranch then exhaust yourself here.”

      “It’s the only way I can sleep,” his father said softly, dropping onto the sofa, his shoulders slumped.

      Rafe closed his eyes in gratitude. Finally. Finally, he wasn’t hiding his pain.

      “I miss your mother so much. The nights are too quiet, and the mornings too empty.” He made an effort to smile. “Been thinking about getting a dog.”

      Rafe sat next to him. “Why don’t you just move in with me? You know there’s plenty of room.”

      “I need to be at the ranch. Mr. Bandero’s been very patient with me, but everyone seems to think that because it’s been a year, it’s time. That I should be recovered.”

      “Not everyone understands that recovery is individual, Dad.” Although Rafe had also been hoping that by now his father would be emerging from mourning.

      “That’s what Melina said, too. She also said I should tell you how I’m feeling.” He shrugged. “Figured you knew, actually.”

      “It’s hard to miss the signs. You’ve lost too much weight.”

      “Your mom was the ranch cook, and a good one. I can’t bear to sit down at the table to eat someone else’s cooking, son.”

      “I get that. Which is why I think you should live with me. We’ll take care of each other.”

      “Wouldn’t that cramp your style with the women?”

      “I’m as celibate as you.”

      “That won’t last for long.” He put his hands on his knees and shoved himself up. “I think I’ll skip dinner and head back to the ranch. Thanks for listening.”

      “Nope. Dinner first, then you can leave.”

      Luis crossed his arms. “You’re a pushy kid.”

      “Yeah? Who taught me to be that?”

      “Your mother.”

      Rafe laughed, slung an arm over his father’s shoulders and headed to the kitchen, the only completely remodeled room in the house. He lingered over pizza and beer with his dad, getting him to open up more, trying to figure


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