Damn.
Her fault for parking illegally. She was lucky she’d rolled the windows down to keep the car cooler. She’d heard it wasn’t uncommon for fire crews to break windows of parked cars blocking fire hydrants.
She also had a ticket on her windshield.
“Welcome to Last Stand,” she muttered.
Not.
“I’ll take you to the hospital,” Axel offered.
She turned around, suspicious, trying to read him. Good luck with that.
“No, thank you. We’ll get an Uber,” Cruz said stiffly.
“This is Last Stand,” Axel said flatly. “Not Denver or wherever you really ended up.”
“I was in Denver,” she hissed, furious with him, and even angrier with herself for feeling the need to defend herself. She didn’t. She’d done the right thing.
“Did you bring your horse?” Diego asked. “Can you take us on your horse?”
“Of course not,” Cruz snapped and then immediately regretted it. Diego’s shining face dimmed a little. Axel was turning her into a shrew—no she was letting him unnerve her. They were both adults. Shell’s words about how unlikely it would be for her to run into Axel mocked her.
Grow up.
She could handle this.
“He left his horse back at the ranch.”
Disgusted that he wasn’t going to see a horse, Diego turned to his favorite subject—food. “I’m hungry, Mom. You said that once we got to the house, we’d make lunch and I could go swimming. Can we go now?”
“Yes, sweetie.” She held on to her calm with her fingernails. She was unaffected by Axel. Totally unaffected. “I just need to check on a patient. I promised, and then…”
“The hospital has a cafeteria,” Axel interrupted her. “Good food. I’ll drive you both in my truck. I need to take August anyway.”
“Okay.” Diego immediately took a step to stand next to Axel, as if he’d never heard of stranger danger. He looked up at Axel and grinned. “Do they have grilled cheese?”
“Best in town.” Axel looked down at the little boy, seeming bemused, but then his dark, brooding gaze met hers and hardened.
Who was the liar now? She narrowed her eyes at him. I’m on to you, she mouthed, although she had no clue what game he was playing.
His scrutiny dropped to her mouth, and her entire body tingled.
“C’mon, Mom. Let’s go.”
Two minutes with Axel and suddenly Diego was the boss? She needed to shut that down, fast. Her son was just seven. He’d eat her alive by the time he was ten if she didn’t stand up to him. And she was about to tell him…but they were off. The two of them. Axel fluidly walked away from her while Diego half-ran, half-walked beside him, stretching his strides, and trying to imitate Axel’s fluid movements with a hint of that swagger that had always damn near killed her.
She couldn’t really blame Diego. He’d been disturbingly obsessed by cowboys years before she was ready to make the move back to Texas. And Axel, with his black jeans, silky black western-style shirt, with the white piping and mother of pearl snaps, his Stetson and shiny black cowboy boots exuded iconic, movie-star American cowboy like a dark, rich cologne. And it was effortless. Real.
“Thrown over for a grilled cheese sandwich,” she muttered.
So much for chivalry, she thought, watching the back of them. Wasn’t that the whole story of her childhood—watching those she loved walk away? Except she didn’t love Axel—not anymore. And she’d been the one to walk away that time. She wished she’d ran.
And never listened to Shell.
Axel veered off with her son and entered a cute little restaurant where a group of people huddled together in front of the large open windows. Their eyes were wide with shock and worry. More were out on the patio, talking softly. Some celebration had come to an abrupt and unexpected end. A lot of people had attended whatever party had been going on, and Cruz felt a pang of regret. She’d always wanted to be part of a strong community where she knew people, where she could build a life and belong.
But not in Last Stand, she vowed, ignoring the picturesque main street, the way so many people had come out to help after the accident, and the fact that her closest friend and Diego’s closest friend were going to live here. She hurried to catch up, just as Axel emerged holding three paper plates loaded with multi-layered cake. Diego also balanced a plate with a huge piece, which he steadied with his tongue.
“Manners,” she reminded him. “You weren’t raised by wolves.”
Axel’s look seared her, and she groaned internally at the pun.
“Cake,” she continued. “Yes, that’s a perfectly balanced snack right before lunch,” she said.
“I always did prefer dessert first.” His gaze never left her face, and she felt exposed. She’d forgotten how intensely he used to look at her—like she was the only woman in the world.
Axel speared his plastic fork into the moist, fluffy layers and held the bite out to her.
“Remember?”
Cruz squeaked and nearly jumped out of her skin. What was he doing? Flirting with her? Axel had used to call her dessert, and he would often delay meals so that he could enjoy her. Why was he reminding her about that now, in the middle of the day, on a small-town Texas street, while her son happily gorged himself on the birthday cake of a person he didn’t even know?
“Have some birthday cake.” Axel’s voice rumbled with sin and lit a smoldering fire deep inside of her. “You know you want it.”
The bite of cake nearly touched her lips, and Axel’s attention was now fixated there. A challenge lit his eyes. He didn’t think she’d do it. Something fierce and long dormant rose up like a flame inside of her and answered him.
“I do love dessert.” She parted her lips, slowly closed them over the cake and let the flavors melt in her mouth. She closed her eyes, sighed and then looked straight at him. She traced her tongue over her lips to capture every last crumb and then swallowed. “Cake was always my second favorite,” she taunted right back.
The flare in his eyes and the slight tick in his jaw was her first hit.
Score!
She hadn’t come to Last Stand to play games, but Axel was, and she didn’t like to lose.
“My rig’s here.” Axel jerked his thumb at his brother to climb in the back and he held open the front passenger door for Cruz.
“Really, I can get in the back,” she said quickly but his posture was as formidable as the Rockies. “Your brother…”
“Can sit in the back. You’re sharing the cake with me. August has his own.”
That was the dumbest reason ever, especially since Axel had three pieces. She gestured to them.
“Bringing a piece to Graham, the doctor. He was at the party, too. He’s going to have his hands full at the hospital.”
August was already easing himself in the back, deep in conversation with Diego who was solicitously helping August to buckle up since he was operating—or barely operating—with one arm.
Axel handed her the cake, then grabbed her waist and boosted her in.
She could have got into the truck herself. Why did he keep touching her?
Cruz took another bite of the cake and moaned as the flavors of dark chocolate, orange, and vanilla teased her tongue. Keeping her expression innocent, she held out a bite for him.
“Hungry?” It was more of a challenge than a question.
“Starved.”
She braced herself for him to take the bite.
Instead he leaned forward, his head and hat blocking out the sun. His lips grazed her mouth—just a whisper, but she felt the contact zing around her body like a shorted-out wire. Her body tingled and her breath stalled. His tongue traced her full bottom lip.
He levered back a little and she stared at him, feeling uncomfortably like prey in a trap, but also uncomfortably aroused.
“Delicious.”
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Welcome to Last Stand, Cruz.�
�
*
A couple of hours later Axel pulled up in front of the property Cruz had indicated, not bothering to hide his scowl. It wasn’t that the neighborhood was bad. Last Stand might have its share of families struggling with poverty and a host of other problems, but mostly folks knew one another, and the town wasn’t awash in crime. It was more that Cruz deserved to be someplace better than this. Much better. And he hated that this house and the small apartment behind it were owned and managed—if neglect and indifference qualified as managing—by Bill Clemmens.
Clemmens didn’t take care of his wife, family, cattle, horses, or rental properties. But he always wanted more than he had. And he wanted to take it from other folks who’d earned it through hard work. The Wolf and Clemmens families had never gotten along. They shared a southern boundary that the Clemmens had long disputed, and even losing in court hadn’t stopped the breaks in the fence, or the Wolf cattle and longhorns simply “wandering” onto the Clemmens’s property.
Axel was also still riled up about his last conversation with his brother while they’d been at the hospital. August had refused medical help. And he’d point-blank told Axel that he thought Diego was his son and that Cruz had hidden him away from Axel and the family. August also said he doubted she had a husband.
August had always been a genius at pissing him off.
But Axel didn’t buy his brother’s theory. Cruz had always been honest, to the point of being blunt. People always knew where they stood with her.
She would have told him she was in the family way. She wouldn’t have broken up with him. And she’d never try to trick a man into marriage by passing off another man’s child on him.
But August had made him think.
And that’s what really had triggered him.
What if the kid was his?
What if he was a dad?
He’d never wanted that, but Cruz had cracked open that door just a little once before…then she’d slammed it shut. And now, August had let in another sliver of light.
Hope?
Is that what he was feeling?
He didn’t know.
But he was strangely reluctant to ask, not that he could say anything with the kid in the back seat talking a mile a minute…which made it unlikely the boy was his. It surprised him that the thought made his chest hurt a little bit. And damn August for making him think.
And Cruz, for making him feel.
Axel kept the truck and the air-conditioning running. Diego poked his head out the window.
“That’s it?” He sounded happier than Axel felt. “It’s a house. Wow! Cool.”
Axel couldn’t believe the kid was happy about living in this dump, with its lack of shade, dead and half-dug-up grass and peeling paint. It looked far too small for two families to share. But then, his family ranch house was massive and thanks to August interfering and tossing his money around, totally remodeled. And empty.
“The pool must be in the back.” Diego popped out of the truck, but he squelched in mud. When he pulled his foot back, his orange flip-flop remained stuck.
“Oh, no,” Cruz murmured. “Maybe a sprinkler pipe broke or the pool is leaking.”
Axel wouldn’t be surprised.
“Poor Shell and Rand. They just got married and rented this house for six months so they’d have time to find a home to buy.”
Six months here? Axel would rather burn it down and build a new home with his bare hands.
Cruz unbuckled her seat belt, calling out to Diego to wait a minute.
Axel climbed out too, keeping clear of the mud and grass. He rounded the truck to open the door for her, clearly startling her. What the hell was wrong? He’d always opened doors for her. She’d been independent as hell, but she’d loved it when he’d done small, courteous things. She’d always slid across the seat toward him, making sure to kiss him, and do a full body brush when she climbed in or out of his truck. It had made him hard as hell and he’d loved every damn second.
Who the hell did she marry that he didn’t open doors for her? Buy her and his child a house? Take care of her? And why had she left him to marry such a deadbeat anyway? A thought had him stilling right as he reached her door and swung it open.
No. She would have told him.
Impossible.
She wouldn’t have married someone else if she had been pregnant with his kid.
No way.
But she had left him over seven years ago. How old was the kid? He thrust the dart of suspicion away. Damn August. Cruz had been his for over two years. Despite what she’d said at the end, their relationship had not been casual.
“What’s wrong?” Cruz asked, sliding out of the truck and keeping a careful distance between them.
That was the smart thing to do, but it pissed him off.
“I would think that’s pretty obvious.”
“I’ll find the water main and shut it off. Maybe I can find the leak. Do you know a good plumber in town?”
Axel and his ranch hands had most of the skills the ranch needed. Cruz walked toward the street, looking for the metal lid that protected the water main to the house. She bent down.
She looked damn fine in her jeans, and his mouth dried. He dragged his gaze away from her rounded ass.
“Do you have any tools in your truck?” For a moment, her smile flashed, nearly blinding him. “Dumb question for a cowboy, huh?”
Then her light dimmed a little as if she remembered the years and the space between them.
Glad for a chance to quit looking at her like a starving man, he grabbed his tools. Diego had stopped stomping in the grass making water squirt everywhere and ran over to watch. Axel lifted the metal cover and turned off the water to the house.
“Thank you. Let’s hope it’s just a break in the sprinkler system,” Cruz said, standing up.
She retrieved the key from the lock box.
“Our apartment’s in the back, Diego, but I better check the main house since Shell and her new husband and Ryan won’t be back for two weeks.”
“Hang on,” Axel warned as he returned his tools to his truck. The spring had been fairly wet and a lawn that dead clearly didn’t have a sprinkler system. One more way Bill didn’t take care of people, things or his business.
Cruz unlocked the front door to the house and jumped back as water poured out in a smelly gush.
“Wow! Oh, wow!” Diego danced across the lawn and jumped up on the tailgate of the truck to watch. “Look, there’s Ryan’s baseball glove.”
And that was only the beginning of what spilled out onto the dead lawn.
Cruz slumped a little, nibbling on her bottom lip—a sure sign she was nervous and trying to hold herself together. He wished he hadn’t remembered that detail. She wasn’t his responsibility anymore. She’d picked another man, and had a child soon after telling him she didn’t ever want a family.
So why was he still here?
“Playing the hero,” August had mocked him. “Should have worn your white hat,” his brother had said when Axel had left him at the hospital after exacting a promise to get his injuries checked. He’d told August that he would be back with a change of clothes and to take him home if he could.
Cruz took a second key from the lock box, squared her shoulders and opened the latch on the gate.
“Is that where we’re gonna live? I want to see.” Diego jumped off the truck like it was all a big adventure.
Axel followed grimly. It was clear the flooding extended to the backyard. The pool overflowed and the water was dirty. He was pretty sure he saw something swimming in it.
“Your friends rented this place. Did they see it first?”
“Just online,” Cruz said. “A moving crew moved them in since they were busy with the wedding and now they’re taking a trip to Disneyland and all around California. They chose this house because of the studio. Shell is an OB nurse, but also an artist. She wanted to work part-time and start her own graphics business. The studio was going to
be her office, since we’re only here temporarily.”
“How long?”
“Stop sounding like an interrogator,” she snapped.
The backyard was a mud pit, and Cruz stood well to the side when she opened the studio apartment.
Water flowed out of the back studio as well, but not as much—probably because a side door to the studio had buckled off the hinges so the water had spilled outside before it could gather.
“How long?” He tried to modify his tone, though obviously not successfully, since her body stiffened in irritation. “And what exactly is your job, if you aren’t a doctor?”
“I was a nurse,” she sniped and glared at him, which was probably better than looking at the detritus of her life spilling out into the mud. “Now I’m a surgical physician’s assistant, or at least I will be on Monday. I have a temporary locums contract for six to eight weeks, but I already have two interviews lined up—one in San Antonio and the other in Austin—in the next couple of weeks. Happy now?”
Her tone said ‘so there,’ as if proving she wouldn’t interrupt his life all to hell by her presence in Last Stand.
Too late for that.
“Mom, is that Bear?” Diego’s eyes rounded and for the first time he sounded subdued, as if he was finally aware of the seriousness of the problem.
All three of them looked at the giant, very sodden black stuffed bear that now blocked the doorway of the studio.
Cruz couldn’t answer for a moment. Then she sucked in a breath and jerked her shoulders back. “It figures that the one time movers arrive early and pile everything inside instead of putting it in the garage, there’s a flood,” she mused, and he saw her effort to smile.
“What are we going to do, Mom?” Diego asked, his thin voice quavering just a little.
Cruz bit down hard on her lip.
“First we are going to give him a bath,” she said, her tone aiming for cheerful and determined, and his admiration rose. “And then, well, this is Texas, and Texas has a lot of sun. And since we’re going to become Texans, we’re going to be even tougher and better problem solvers than before.”
A Son for the Texas Cowboy Page 5