He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on slowing down his heart.
“I don’t even know your name, man.”
“What?” Roman’s head whipped back to Freddie.
“Your name. You sure you okay? You on somethin’ or what?”
“I’m fine.” He clenched his jaw. Breathed. In. Out. “Name’s Roman Gallardo. Stand still so I can get this done.”
Hurt rode high in the boy’s eyes. His shoulders stiffened. “I’ll do it. Go on.” He snatched at a box of bandages.
Roman yanked them from his grasp. “I said stand still.” His voice was too harsh, and the kid didn’t deserve it.
Abruptly Roman set the box down and walked away a few feet, staring out at the lake that wound through the center of Austin.
He heard the boy’s footsteps moving away and cursed. Pull it together. He took a deep breath that filled his chest and turned.
The boy hadn’t gone far, only walking as far as the nearest tree where he stood, his posture sheer dejection.
“Freddie,” he called. “It’s…sorry. Not your fault.”
When the kid didn’t move, he waited him out. “Let me get you fixed up. Least I can do for being a bastard.”
When the boy emerged from behind the tree, Roman could see the high color in his cheeks, the moisture that he’d hastily brushed from his eyes.
You are a bastard, all right. Kid deserves better.
And that was exactly the crux of the issue—that he was no good to anyone, that people would be better off if he’d just go away and leave them alone.
If only he could figure out where away was. He’d traveled half the country searching for it.
Freddie lifted one shoulder. “I’ve seen worse.”
Once again the kid made him want to smile. That was, what, three times today? A personal record for Roman lately.
“Maybe if you weren’t such an ugly mug, I wouldn’t get all pissed off,” he said gruffly.
Freddie’s eyes lit at the teasing. “Don’t matter what you think. The ladies like me fine. You got you a lady?”
At Roman’s silence, the boy continued. “Didn’t think so. I could give you pointers.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Then Roman focused on the task at hand, ruthlessly rejecting any side trips to other times and places. Other injured faces.
“Ow!” Freddie growled when the peroxide went on.
“C’mon. Peroxide doesn’t sting.”
“How you know?”
“I’ve had a nick or two.” Or a body full of scars.
When Roman pushed together the cut above Freddie’s eye, then taped it tightly with butterfly bandages, Freddie hissed. “That hurts. You sure ain’t no nurse.”
“Fill out a form in the complaint department. Be still.”
But Roman noted the twinkle in the boy’s eyes. Sass was good. Better than fear anytime. If the kid could still complain, he wasn’t beaten down altogether.
“So, seen your buddy Mako lately?”
Every trace of amusement fled. “No.”
“He do this to you?” Roman wasn’t buying the denial. “Is he already out of jail?”
“Don’t care.” But the tension in the boy’s frame said something else.
“Is he trying to make you steal again? Trying to scare you into staying quiet?”
“I told you I ain’t seen him!” Freddie shouted.
Roman was almost positive the reverse was true, but he backed off. “Okay, okay. Calm down. There—” He stepped away. “All done.” He checked the boy over. “Too bad we don’t have a mirror, Frankenstein.”
“Bite me,” Freddie retorted, but his shoulders settled. “Scars get chicks all hot and bothered.”
“Whatever you want to think, Frank.”
Freddie smirked.
“I’m hungry. You?” Roman asked. Least he could do before he sent the kid on his way.
“I could eat.”
“I bet.” He looked as though he could eat for a year solid and not catch up. “You buy any food with what I gave you?”
“Yeah.”
“You mean, yes, sir.”
Freddie rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“Got any change?”
“Not now.” Not after the beating, was the implication.
“Too bad. I thought you could buy.”
Freddie grinned again. “Too bad for you, huh?”
“Yep. Definitely too bad for me.” He picked up the supplies and threw the trash in a nearby barrel. “Okay, here’s the deal. We grab a bite, then in the morning, you show up at the job site and I’ll have some breakfast tacos for you. You do the day’s work you were supposed to do today, then we’re even. Deal?” And if Jenna or someone wanted to take the kid on as a charity case, they’d have their chance.
Regardless, Roman would be finished with him. One more day. He could manage that.
Then he was done, done with all of them, and he’d be back in the state where he did best.
Alone.
CHAPTER FIVE
DESPITE THE LATE NIGHT and busy day that had preceded it, Jenna still awoke with the birds, just as her mother always had. She adored her mother and wanted to be like her in almost every way, emphasis on almost. To be a bona fide night owl seemed so sophisticated, so worldly, but Jenna could count on one hand the number of mornings she’d managed to sleep past six, even as a teenager.
Great for a rancher. Wholesome, all-American, disgustingly so.
Not one iota glamorous, or even interesting.
Oh, good grief, what was wrong with her? She seldom spent time navel-gazing. She was a person who acted, who was sure—of herself, of her opinions, of the next step and the next.
She stared out the window at the blessedly crisp fall morning that gave everyone hope that the endless summer would finally be over. She sipped her coffee and tried not to think about anything of substance.
Then she chuckled and shook her head. Her brain never seemed to shut off, and today was no different. Work, that was the answer to any kind of blues. Get off your tush and get busy.
She glanced at the clock, then considered her next action. She could start some soup, then leave it in the slow cooker all day and when she got home, the house would smell fantastic, all homey and welcoming, and she’d have a nourishing meal instead of a carton of yogurt or whatever she could slap together after a long day.
Yes, her house would smell like a welcome home, but it would still just be her here, all by herself. She loved her little cottage and had never felt lonely here before. Maybe it was Cade’s fault. She’d gotten used to having him stay with her, then he’d gone and fallen in love—and okay, she’d set him and Sophie up to be together and was glad they were, but now the house felt empty. Would she ever have her own someone? What would he be like?
Her mind leaped to the man she’d met yesterday, Roman Gallardo. What was his story? Had he been her rescuer? He was gorgeous, in a real man kind of way—not a pretty boy at all, but dark and compelling.
But friendly? Approachable? No. Not her type at all.
Would anyone ever be?
Snap out of it, Jenna. If you’re lonely, get that dog you’ve been wanting.
Resolutely, she turned from the window and started pulling ingredients from the refrigerator. This was just a passing phase, a reaction to the last of her brothers finding his true love. She was younger than all of them, and she had plenty of time. Besides, none of them had anticipated meeting the love of his life when he had. Each had been leading a productive existence, just as she was. Her turn would come and, meanwhile, she had plans, lots of them.
She threw an apron over her tank top and sleep shorts and began cooking.
* * *
JENNA WAS IN THE HABIT of visiting the current job site nearly daily, no matter whose home was under construction.
At least, that’s what she told herself as she drove over on her way to the office, despite having been there at the close of the previous day and already well aware of exactly what progress had been made.
This visit had nothing at all to do with any interest in the tall, dark and delicious new volunteer who’d saved their bacon the day before. He wasn’t, after all, very forthcoming about himself. He could be anyone, a visitor to their city, a rich man slumming, an out-of-work laborer—though with those skills and such a formidable work ethic, to say nothing of that powerful body, it made absolutely no sense that he would be unemployed—but, okay, the point was that he was a mystery. One just begging to be solved.
And he also might be the man who’d saved her.
She wouldn’t push, she wouldn’t pry. And if she could hear her brothers snickering inside her mind, well, they weren’t here, were they? You’re relentless, Jenna, they would say—and had. Once you get something in your head, heaven help anyone who hopes to get it out before you’re satisfied.
She stopped her car and mentally flicked her brothers away like so many drops of water from wet hands.
Teo looked up from where he was making notes in a little pad he carried in his front shirt pocket. “He’s not coming.”
“What?”
“That’s why you’re here, right? You didn’t get the new guy’s life story within the first hour, and you can’t stand it. You’re back for more.”
“When did you start channeling my family?”
“You are an open book to me, little girl. Anyway, women just can’t stand mystery in a man. Got to dig until it’s all gone, along with every last scrap of magic.”
“Teo! You’re a romantic. I never knew.”
The tips of his ears turned red, and he took off his cap, scratched his head and replaced the hat, settling the brim. “Lot about me you don’t know.”
“I know you’re amazing,” she said with perfect sincerity. “And that the day you showed up, a whole lot of people’s lives got better, especially mine.”
“Stop that.” He scowled.
Yet his pleasure from her words was evident. She nudged his arm with her shoulder. “Oh, suck it up. A few compliments won’t kill you.”
“Won’t change the facts, either. He’s not coming. Wish to hell he would, ’cause he’s a find, but someone with those skills has a real job. Can’t say why he showed up yesterday, but I’m sure glad he did. We’ve caught up, and if nothing else happens, Lucia’s gonna have her house by Halloween.” He nodded toward the street. “Troops arriving. Got to get everybody squared away. Head on over to your office and start dialing for dollars, don’t be hanging around in my hair.”
Jenna grinned. Teo was as crusty as he was irreplaceable. She adored him. “Love you, too, Teo,” she said, blowing a kiss just to get his goat.
“Will you stop that?” He made a dismissing motion with his hand and headed for his workers, his ears and the back of his neck fiery red now.
She’d grown up with ornery old guys and she had a big soft spot for the breed. Nothing started her day—or yanked her out of the pity party she’d been fighting all morning—quite like a little mutual razzing with Teo. She waved to the workers, noting that Roman Gallardo indeed was not among them, and walked toward her car.
Then she noticed that same ancient, scarred, dark blue pickup coming down the street with the very man in question inside it.
She glanced back at Teo, lifted her eyebrows and gave him a cocky smile as if to say See? She hesitated before grasping her door handle, ever so tempted to stay for a while.
You didn’t get the new guy’s life story within the first hour, and you can’t stand it.
And what was so bad about that? Teo certainly wouldn’t make the effort—guys never did. Besides, she still had that feeling about Roman Gallardo, that he might very well be the man who had rescued her.
But he’d also chosen to disappear. Why? Was he wanted by the authorities? Surely not, or he was taking a terrible risk showing up in broad daylight. Maybe he just didn’t like attention. But he still deserved her thanks. She could do so quietly, without a lot of fuss.
Okay, so quietly was not exactly her modus operandi. She could manage it, though, if she wanted to.
But what did he want, her savior? What was he saying by his silence? By showing up here at all?
Women just can’t stand mystery in a man. Got to dig until it’s all gone, along with every last scrap of magic.
Mostly, Teo was exactly right—about her, anyway. She wasn’t a fan of the unsolved. She had to figure out exactly how things worked, what the puzzle pieces were, and put them all together. Then make things happen with what she learned.
But maybe this once, a little mystery wouldn’t be a bad thing. She’d thanked her rescuer that night, and she would do so again when she was certain of his identity. Whatever his reasons for not revealing himself to her, didn’t she owe him for keeping her from serious harm? What kind of repayment would it be if she forced herself on him, dragged him into a spotlight he didn’t welcome?
She wasn’t unfamiliar with men with shadows—her brother Diego had nearly died in combat and spent a very long time recovering both physically and mentally from the loss of his men. And the horrific cases Jesse had handled when he was in the FBI, especially when he’d been a hostage negotiator, had marked him. Zane was generally more sunny, like her, but when his former girlfriend had committed suicide, he’d initially blamed himself for not saving her. Most recently, Cade had lost his best friend and guide on a mountaintop. Falling in love with Sophie had brought sunlight into his darkness, but he was still wrestling with his guilt, no matter that Cade himself had barely survived getting off the mountain.
She had no idea what Roman’s story was or why he was so reserved, but the girl who’d thought sunshine and kisses could banish all clouds had grown up at least a little in these years of dealing with people caught in the grips of hardship.
Her family members would probably fall over in a dead faint to hear it, but she was going to leave this man alone.
For now, anyway.
She saw Roman emerge from his truck and she simply nodded and smiled.
He did the same. Minus the smile.
It was a start.
She got in her car and left to dial for dollars.
* * *
ROMAN HALTED WITH one hand on the open window frame. There she was again, the sunny strawberry-blonde, a bright, fresh note in a day filled with misgivings.
She nodded and smiled.
Taken aback, he hesitated, then returned the greeting.
But he exhaled with relief when she simply got into her car and left. After a moment, he stirred and shut his truck door, moving on to the tool chest in the back and lifting his tool belt from inside.
A stirring in the shadows caught his eye.
The boy was here. Hiding. Staring toward where Jenna had driven off. Roman stayed where he was, letting the boy decide his next move. He would come or he wouldn’t.
Out of the corner of his eye, Roman spotted movement from the trees. Casually he strolled around the bed of his truck to give Freddie a more sheltered spot to approach, then waited.
“Hey.” He was dressed in the same clothes as yesterday.
“Hey.” Roman nodded. “You ready?”
Freddie hesitated. “Miss Jenna coming back?”
“No idea. She wasn’t dressed for construction, so maybe not.”
“Good. I mean, she’s okay and all, but…” The boy shrugged. “I’d rather just work.”
“Your breakfast is in that bag on the passenger seat. Eat first.”
Freddie didn’t waste a second. While
he practically inhaled the food, Roman busied himself gathering his tools. “What did you do when you were here before?”
“Just picked up trash and stuff.”
“Might be all you get to do today.”
“You said you’d teach me.”
“I will, but I’m not running the job. You might have to do both.”
Freddie finished the last bite of his taco, drank the rest of the milk Roman had brought, then put his trash in the sack. “Okay. What now?”
“Now we go talk to the boss man and see what he needs from us.” Roman kept his movements slow as he clapped one hand on the boy’s shoulder. Freddie tensed at the touch, but Roman kept his grip light and easy, and eventually the boy relaxed.
“Somebody did a damn fine job doctoring you.”
“Yeah, right. I was thinkin’ about suin’ the quack.”
“The quack doesn’t have any money.”
“Figures.”
“Okay, ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, sir—important job skill.”
A flick of suspicious dark eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“Right.” Roman removed his hand. “You get enough breakfast?”
“Yeah—yes, sir. The breakfast tacos were good.”
“Work hard, and lunch might be on me.”
A small curve of the boy’s mouth. “Yes, sir.”
Roman walked toward Teo. “Morning.”
The older man turned. “Didn’t know if you’d show.”
“Me, either.”
A brisk nod. “See you picked up a helper. Freddie, right?”
“Yea—yes, sir.”
“What do you need done today?” Roman asked. “Repainting the kitchen?”
“Got folks less skilled than you who can do that. You ever hang cabinets?”
“A few.”
“Should be arriving anytime. Can I put you on that? You can start in the bathrooms while we’re painting in here. I can help or find someone, since it’s not a one-man job.”
“I’ve done it alone, but I have help right here.” Roman turned to Freddie. “You ever used a nail gun before?”
A Life Rebuilt Page 6
