A Cowboy's Redemption. Marin Thomas
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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.
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.