life. “Tell me more about the boys you’re working with.”
“Alonso lost his father when he was seven—gunned down by police in a drug raid. Alonso’s mother cleans offices at night and works at a convenience store during the day.”
The kid’s mother worked two jobs in order to feed her family and keep a roof over their heads. Riley’s mother had never worked a day in her married life.
“Why did Alonso get expelled from school?”
“He skipped too many days, but he was between a rock and a hard place. When one of his siblings became ill, Alonso’s mother made him stay home to care for them so she wouldn’t miss work.”
“How often do his brothers and sisters get sick?”
“His little sister Lea has asthma and is prone to pneumonia.”
“That’s too bad.”
Maria narrowed her eyes and Riley resisted the urge to squirm. “You really do feel compassion for Alonso, don’t you?”
Riley was the first to acknowledge he led a privileged life. He bought what he wanted, when he wanted and without considering the cost. And why shouldn’t he? He had an abundance of money at his fingertips. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t had to work for a dime of it. Even though he had nothing in common with Alonso and his family, Riley wasn’t so coldhearted that he couldn’t sympathize with their daily struggles. “What kind of student is Alonso?”
“A good one. Alonso loves to learn. He’s smart and organized with his studies and grasps new concepts easily. He’s ready to take his GED test but I’ve held him back because I haven’t devised a financial strategy to pay for his tuition at a community college.”
“Alonso wants to go to college?”
“He plans to enter the medical field.”
“Nurses and technicians make decent salaries,” Riley said.
“And the jobs come with health insurance and benefits. Alonso realizes that if his mother had health insurance his sister would have access to better care.”
“What about the boy with the scar?”
“Victor is bright, too, but he’s very self-conscious of his face.”
“Did a gangbanger cut his face?”
“His mother did that to him.”
His own mother?
“She attacked Victor’s sister after the girl announced she was pregnant—” Maria shuddered “—by the mother’s boyfriend. Victor tried to protect his sister and got himself hurt.”
“I hope the woman went to jail.”
“The hospital called in the cops after they’d stitched Victor’s face but Victor changed his story and said he didn’t know his attacker.”
“What does Victor want to do with his life?”
“He’s not sure. All the kids take career assessment tests and Victor displayed decent math skills and an aptitude for electrical work and plumbing but he’s not interested in those fields—which is too bad because a local business has offered to employ students while teaching them the trade.”
“What’s the deal with the smooth-talker?”
“Cruz Rivera.” Maria wrinkled her nose. “Like you, he’s popular with the ladies.”
Riley placed both hands over his heart. “Was that a compliment?”
“You know you’re a good-looking man.”
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For calling me a man.” Twenty-five was considered young in many minds; but, at every age, Riley’s parents had demanded a level of maturity far beyond his years. In truth, he felt a lot older than twenty-five.
“Cruz prefers to use his muscle over his brain. He’s stubborn and bullheaded.”
“The kid has the makings of a good rodeo cowboy.”
“His father rode bulls before he—”
“Cruz’s father was T. C. Rivera?”
“Yes.”
Riley had heard stories about Rivera. The man had taken the rodeo circuit by storm when Riley had been in high school. But T.C. had thrown away his chance at a world title when he’d gotten into a brawl in South Dakota and killed a man. “Where’s T.C. now?”
“South Dakota State Penitentiary in Sioux Falls.”
“Was he close to Cruz?”
“Yes. Cruz is his eldest child. T.C. and Juanita have…had four children.”
“What do you mean had?”
“Cruz’s younger brother by one year was the victim of gang violence.”
“Shot to death?”
“A few months ago. He’d been sitting on his front porch with Cruz when a fight broke out between two gangs and shots were fired. A stray bullet caught him in the chest.”
Unable to imagine witnessing a sibling’s death in such a violent manner, Riley suspected Cruz’s tough-act demeanor was a facade hiding a hurt and angry young man. “Does Cruz ever visit his father?”
“No. Juanita doesn’t have a car and she can’t waste hard-earned money on bus fare to take the kids to South Dakota.”
“How long is T.C.’s sentence?”
“He won’t be eligible for parole for another twenty years.”
Cruz would be close to forty when his father left prison. Steering the conversation back to Maria, Riley asked, “What do you do when you’re not chasing after delinquent kids?” He really wanted to ask if there was a man in her life.
“Nothing as exciting as flying airplanes or busting broncs.”
“Have you flown before?”
“I’ve never been on a plane.”
“Bet you’d enjoy the experience.”
“Why would you think that?”
He shrugged. “You’re a thrill seeker.”
“Hardly.”
“Sure you are. Your job is one big thrill. You have no idea what you’re going to face when you roll out of bed each morning.” She didn’t refute his charge. “Any brothers, sisters, nieces or nephews?” A significant other?
“Afraid not.”
“I have one sister,” Riley said. “Bree’s twenty-eight.”
“What does she do for a living?”
“Manages the horse stables at the farm.”
“Stables?”
“The Fitzpatricks breed racing horses.”
“What kind of racing horses?”
“The Kentucky Derby kind.”
Maria’s fork clanked against the side of her plate.
Depending on their personal agenda, this is where women either pushed Riley away or attempted to get closer. “Our family’s been involved in horse racing for generations.”
“That explains the plane, but not the rodeo.”
Before Riley had a chance to speak, the waitress appeared with dessert. “What are they?” he asked.
“Polvorones. Almond cookies,” Maria said.