Marin Thomas

A Cowboy's Redemption


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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?”

      “No, sir.”

      “Did she ask why you wanted a job?”

      “No, sir.”

      He shook his head. “For all I know, you just got out of prison.”

      The blood drained from his face, but Cruz held José’s gaze.

      “I’m keeping an eye on you.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      José left, following the path Dani took to the house.

      José didn’t trust Cruz and he was smart not to. For all intents and purposes, Cruz had lied when he hadn’t confirmed José’s suspicions about being released from prison. If that wasn’t enough incentive to head down the road, then learning that Sara was too trusting of strangers and her husband had been shot should have been. He didn’t need trouble and these folks didn’t need him.

      He grabbed the sheets off the counter, intent on returning them before hitting the road, but a whiff of their clean scent paralyzed him. He buried his face in the cotton and closed his eyes. The sheets smelled like spring, not chlorine and musty body odor. He pictured a room with a queen-size bed covered in the blue flower print. Then he imagined himself sinking onto the mattress and burying his face in a cloud of blond hair.

      He set the linens on the counter—it was best if he left without saying goodbye. Tonight he’d sleep in his truck in a parking lot far away from Papago Springs. Halfway to his pickup Sara crossed his path.

      “There you are.” She offered a smile. “Dani mentioned helping you with the donkeys and that reminded me that I needed to discuss the repairs I’d like you to tackle.”

      Tell her you changed your mind.

      Then she set her hand on his arm and any thought of leaving vanished.

      “You aren’t afraid of stubborn donkeys, are you?” She smiled.

      He would have laughed at her teasing if her fingers hadn’t felt like a lit match against his skin.

      Chill out. You haven’t touched a woman in over a decade. No wonder his testosterone was jumping off the charts. He wanted to believe that any woman he came in contact with would produce the same physical response, but he suspected not. Sara was different from any female he’d known. Pure goodness shone from her eyes, tugging at his protective instincts. And the best way to protect her was to beat it.

      “I’d like you to replace the missing slats on the corral, and several windows in the house won’t open. And it would be great if you could not only clean up after the animals, but feed them, too.”

      “I don’t think—”

      She talked over him. “I’m hoping that once the place is picked up and a Realtor tells my father-in-law what he can get for the property, he’ll change his mind about selling. He’s all alone now and it’s better if he lives with me and Dani in Albuquerque.” She spread her arms wide. “But we won’t find a buyer for this place in its current condition and I’m afraid I only know how to fix children, not corrals, sheds and fences.”

      “Fix children?” Her eyes lit up and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

      “I’m a pediatric nurse.”

      No wonder José claimed she was too trusting of others. She took care of kids—honest, loving, innocent little people.

      “Are you a rodeo cowboy?” She nodded to his worn boots. His twelve-year-old Justin boots had sat in a brown paper bag until he’d reclaimed them earlier today.

      “Saddle-bronc rider.”

      Her eyes twinkled. “Are you any good?”

      “Decent.”

      “I’m sure the things on my list won’t take more than a few days to complete. I’ll pay you in cash on Friday before you head off to your next rodeo.”

      “You know much about rodeo?” Why was he encouraging conversation?

      “A little. When my husband was in med school, he got suckered into entering a bull-riding competition by his friends and I got a crash course in emergency medicine.” She rubbed the toe of her sandal over a pebble in the dirt. “Antonio died a year and a half ago.”

      “I’m sorry.” For a lot more than Sara would ever know.

      “I think the best place to begin would be the corral and the livestock pens. The garbage cans are in the storage shed and the burn barrel is at the back of the property.”

      Tell her you’re leaving.

      “The dump is twenty-five miles north, so anything that’s too large to burn will have to be taken there.” She drew in a breath, then exhaled loudly. “Whether you believe it or not, you’re a godsend. I don’t know if He sent you—” she pointed at the sky “—or if fate made you stop for a bite to eat. Whatever the reason, you being here will help us all move on.”

      Dumbfounded, Cruz watched Sara return to the house. How the heck could he walk away from her, Dani and José now? He’d stay—until he cleaned up the property, then he’d get the hell out of Dodge before he did something he’d regret. Like kiss Sara Mendez until the sadness disappeared from her eyes.

      * * *

      “WHAT ARE YOU staring at, Mama?”

      Sara jumped back from the window. “Nothing.” Her daughter had caught her spying on Cruz—more specifically, admiring the way his snug jeans fit his muscular backside. She could have stood there for hours, watching him work.

      “I’m bored.”

      “Did you finish your work sheets?” Sara had purchased a preschool book for Dani before leaving Albuquerque. Since she’d had to withdraw her from class in order to spend the summer in Papago Springs, she didn’t want Dani falling behind the other kids before she entered kindergarten in the fall.

      “I don’t wanna do work sheets. I wanna help Mr. Cruz feed the donkeys.”

      Two