by Em Petrova
“No, that ain’t what I mean. I mean… Oh hell. I’ll just tell you. Manny asked me—no, practically begged me—to marry his daughter to get her out of some bad conditions in Mexico.”
Shock passed over his brother’s features. “Give her citizenship?”
“Yeah.”
“Well the answer’s no, right? You can’t just take on this woman for life so she has papers.”
Cash’s chest constricted. Yeah, what was he thinking? He couldn’t live with someone he didn’t know forever. And Dalton boys weren’t deserters. Once they made a decision, they stuck by it.
“Bro, you can’t be contemplating this. It’s crazy.”
“I know. I’m not. It’s just that she’s living in bad conditions—scary city or something. And there’s little money. I feel bad is all.” He picked up the hammer again.
“She’s not some stray cow you found and brought into the herd. You don’t know what she’s like. Maybe you’d hate her laugh. Or she’s nuts.”
“Everyone has a little crazy in them, Hank.”
“She could be into carving up animals and offering them to the gods or something.”
“Pfft. Real people don’t do that. Besides, Manny’s normal.” Or maybe he wasn’t. He had just asked a virtual stranger to marry his daughter.
But only a desperate father would do such a thing. Cash couldn’t imagine what Maya must really be facing for her father to ask Cash for help.
Hank joined him in building the wall again. “She could be real ugly too. No teeth and she’s wall-eyed.”
“She’s not.” Cash tucked his hammer under his arm and fished the photo from his pocket. He handed it to Hank, who whistled through his teeth.
“She’s a beauty for sure. Why did Manny ask you?”
“He fed me some bullshit about me being a good man and how I treat people and animals.” He shrugged. “I think I was just closest to him when he decided to ask.”
Hank handed the picture back. “What are you gonna do?”
“Gonna build this house for you and your wife.”
“About Manny’s daughter, I mean.”
“I’ll tell you what I’m not gonna do. I’m not getting married anytime soon.”
But wasn’t that the condition his parents had set upon him receiving part of the ranch?
* * *
“Maya, package for you!” The ruffian child raced into Maya’s one-room apartment through the door she had propped open to get a breeze. She looked up from scrubbing some clothes in a pail set on a chair.
“Juan Carlos, thank you for bringing it all the way back here. But you’d better be on your way before it gets dark. Don’t linger.” She abandoned her washing and dried her hands on a bit of cloth. Then she rooted in a wooden box where Mama had kept her treasures and found a coin. Juan Carlos’s eyes grew huge as she approached holding up the coin.
She had a soft spot for the big, dark eyes and mop of shining hair. He was proof that children could somehow grow into good people in conditions such as this.
“Go and have a treat for your trouble, my little friend. And be quick!”
Soon she would have to bolt her door against the shadows, and the back street where she lived was no place for a boy.
She dropped the coin into his open palm. He thanked her, shoved the slim package at her and whirled back out the door. She watched him go, wondering if she’d ever have a family of her own. Not likely at this rate. She’d be lucky to have a proper burial if she remained in this city.
Last night Mateo had stood outside her door, knocking and asking her to come out. When she remained silent, huddled against the door in case he tried to kick it in, he grew agitated and began cussing at her. Calling her puta and worse.
She ran her fingers over the brown padded envelope. She hoped it at least contained enough for her to move to another section of the city and stay under Mateo’s radar for a while.
Before tearing into the package, she savored the markings on it and the thick ink her father had used when writing her name. Her heart beat fast with a wild excitement she hadn’t felt in too long. Usually Papa sent a slender envelope. What did he have for her this time?
Turning the package over, she brought it to her nose. Of course it only smelled like paper and not the rich scents she associated with her father. She found the sealed corner and worked her finger underneath.
Her heart sped up as the glue gave way. She slipped her hand inside and papers tickled her fingertips.
With a heart-burst, she tore into the package. Pulling everything free, she took three steps backward to sit on her sagging mattress. Hands shaking, she examined what her papa had sent.
A letter, a thick envelope that must be cash. And a plane ticket.
She released a sound—half cheer, half sob. It had been so long since she’d even thought of her heart. When Mama died, Maya had built thick walls around it. Now it wasn’t safe from the thrill of receiving her ticket out of here.
She plastered the papers to her face and released a few sobs deep in her stomach. Trembling, she lowered her hands and stared at the words blurred through her tears.
Only a few more days until we are together, daughter. Guard this money and ticket. I will be waiting for you when you land in the US.
Dios, it was happening. She had the means. Papa wanted her, and the ticket was one-way. She could have better food, clean water and fall asleep without fearing for her life. She swiftly counted in her head. Nine more days. She could survive that long.
A cooler puff of air washed over her, and she remembered the open door. In a few more days she’d have freedom and the promise of a better life. She could find work, even if it was cleaning someone’s home or working in a market. She was bilingual, and surely that would be a benefit just across the border.
She got up to close and bolt the door. Happy tears streamed down her cheeks as she stowed the papers back in the envelope and hid it under the wooden box. When she left, she’d have to abandon her mama’s treasure box, as she’d have no way of carrying it.
Somehow she knew Mama wouldn’t even care. She’d be smiling down on Maya, glad her daughter was safe and had the hope of a happier life.
* * *
Cash paced the area in front of the baggage claim. People milled around him—smart people in suits wheeling suitcases expertly through the masses, families exhausted by travel. Dressed as he was for ranchin’, he might as well be a trout flopping on a bank.
The noise got under his skin, chafing like wet denim. He hunched his shoulders and focused on the people trickling out of the gate.
He’d memorized Maya’s photo. The edges were even more worn from him handling the picture so much. The woman was gorgeous, and there was something soft in her eyes that plucked Cash’s heartstrings. While he admitted to himself how alluring Maya was, if Manny hadn’t gone to Cash’s pa and begged him for an early first paycheck, Cash wouldn’t be here now.
Pa had been about to agree to granting Manny an advance, when Cash had stepped in. He couldn’t stand the sound of a grown man begging.
Manny’s pride had taken a hit, judging by the set of his shoulders. Still he’d done it for Maya. Pulling Manny outside Pa’s office, he met the man’s gaze. “I’ll take her,” he said as if he was buying a horse at auction.
His brown eyes bulged. “What?”
“Maya. I’ll take her on. She needs papers and a good home. I need a wife to get my land.”
“Are you sure about this, friend? I was hasty in asking you to consider marrying her. You don’t have to do this.”
Cash rubbed a knuckle under his nose. “Having a wife shouldn’t be much harder than tending cattle. Besides, I like the way she looks.”
A light of awareness had shined in Manny’s eyes at Cash’s honesty. “You’ll make a good son-in-law.”
The photo seemed to singe his back pocket, and his heart thumped faster. He was about to take a huge leap. What if Hank was right—Maya had a terrible voice or bad
manners? Could he live with someone he didn’t like?
Deep in his front pocket were two white gold wedding bands and a square-cut diamond engagement ring. On his way through the bigger city, he’d stopped and chosen them at a jewelry store, but he wouldn’t pop the question yet. He needed to get acquainted with her first.
The drive home should be long enough. By the time they were two towns from Paradise Valley Ranch, he’d be comfortable enough to ask for her hand.
He looked around, dragging in a breath of stale air, and almost choked. Sputtering, he tried to clear the burning in his chest.
Maya stood there, dark hair falling in gleaming waves over her shoulders and breasts. She looked small and frightened, eyes darting. Probably searching for her father. Manny had written that he’d pick her up at the airport.
With a hum in his ears, Cash pushed through the crowd. The closer he got, the tighter his chest became. Her shoulders were so narrow, her body slight. Hell, she couldn’t have had much food. Momma would fatten her up in no time, he had no doubt.
He stopped in front of the Hispanic beauty. Damn, she barely reached his shoulder. For some reason the pink skin of her scalp where the hair naturally parted did things to his insides.
This little woman would be his wife.
She can still turn me down.
She tipped her head back to look up at him. He could barely make his lungs work as he met her gaze—double chocolate fudge all soft and melty. So much more striking than in her photograph.
“Maya Perez?” Was that even his voice?
“Y-yes.” She nodded.
“I’m Cash Dalton. Your father sent me to fetch you.”
She stared at him, her long, arching brows drawn together. Distrust etched itself on her features.
He pitched his voice low as if soothing an animal. “I can give you proof that he sent me.”
“How?” Her tone was laced with something harder—an edge of steel. He dug out the picture and extended his hand. She peered at his palm as if she were looking down a snake hole. He could only imagine the reasons she was so distrustful.
“Did you say your name’s Dalton?”
“Cash Dalton.”
“Papa mentioned working for you.”
“For my family, yes.”
“Why didn’t he come himself?”
Because you and I have business to take care of.
While he thought of his proposal as a business transaction, his body reacted to hers. She may be fragile, but she had all the right curves. Small waist, hips that would fit a man’s hands. Her rounded breasts pressed against her embroidered top.
“He was needed on the ranch, so I made the trip.” It wasn’t totally a lie.
She looked into his eyes, lips parted slightly. A stab of lust hit him—so strong he almost grunted. He stared at her ripe mouth, naturally a dark rose hue. Her tongue darted out and she wet her lower lip.
Cash’s shaft pushed against his fly. He prayed he didn’t pop a button.
The crowd around them dispersed, leaving them in a pocket of semi-quiet. Somehow he needed to convince her to come with a stranger. How had Hank gotten Charlotte into his truck after he found her broken down along the road? Cash had never asked. Right now he’d seriously welcome some tips on handling jittery women.
He drew a slow breath and released it. “My truck’s parked outside. I’ll take you right home.”
That sounded strange and perfect all at once. Damn, what was wrong with him? He’d seen women more beautiful, yet after carrying her picture for two weeks, he felt as if he knew her.
As if she belonged to him.
When she didn’t respond, he gestured to the luggage carousel. “Is that patterned bag yours?” It was the ugliest damn suitcase he’d ever set eyes on. Actually, it hurt him to look at it. The hectic floral pattern in gaudy colors could cause a seizure if he stared at it long enough.
“Sí. I mean, yes.” The way she corrected herself touched him. Once she had the Dalton last name, she’d have a bit of a culture shock.
His body was being quite loud about one part of the marriage bargain—the marital bed. Too easily he pictured tumbling her into a soft mattress, spreading all that dark hair on the sheets and sinking into her.
He came back to himself and jogged around the carousel to grab the ugly suitcase. When he returned to Maya’s side, he caught a gleam in her eyes. He nodded to her. Maybe they could make this an amiable deal, after all.
Chapter Three
Sweet mother of all that was holy, the cowboy in front of Maya was breathtaking. He didn’t walk—he strutted, muscles rolling like a predatory animal’s. His jeans hung nice and low on his hips, and he wore a big silver belt buckle with a steer skull. Tiny engraved letters arched over the steer horns, but she couldn’t make out the words. If she tried, she’d be caught staring at his crotch.
His plaid shirt was rolled over thick forearms, sinewy from hard work and spattered with dark hairs and a few freckles.
His face should have a whole chapter dedicated to the book of Cash. She didn’t know where to start. His cowboy hat—dark brown and slightly battered—was pulled low enough over his eyes that Maya wanted to push it back and look at him fully. A man’s soul was in his eyes, and she needed to know whether or not to trust him.
Sure, she was hypnotized by the dark hair shadowing his square jaw. And just how hard were his lips? They looked as if they were chiseled from stone. Or marble.
Yes, Cash Dalton was a god of a man. And he wanted her to go home with him.
Apprehension was a fiber of her being—it had been woven into her from the time she could remember. Where she’d come from, there was no such thing as being overly cautious.
He hefted her suitcase as if it weighed as much as a cotton ball. “Look, I can see you’re wary of me, but your father wouldn’t have sent me if he didn’t trust me.”
Looking into Cash’s face, she noted lines around his eyes and mouth. This man laughed often. And the look in his eyes didn’t instill cold fear. She actually felt a little too warm.
“Do you want to call him?” He reached for his back pocket. The action pulled so many muscles taut that she felt a deep, internal quiver.
“No. My father sent you, and he knows best.”
Cash gave her a crooked smile, and every resisting bone in Maya’s body melted. She felt like sagging. “Let’s go.” With that command, he turned and walked off into the crowd, manhandling her suitcase. She stared after him.
Of course I’m not taken with his chiseled backside. She was staring at him in shock. Were all cowboys so sure of themselves that they could give a woman an order and she’d trail behind him like a puppy?
Yet that’s what she did. She ran to reach his side, and he smiled down at her, making her knees weaken all over again. “Do you need to use the restroom before we leave the terminal?”
“No.”
“Are you hungry? I’ll gladly buy you a coffee and muffin.” He did this toe-curling chin-nod thing toward a café with expensive-looking treats behind glass. The heavenly smell made her stomach cramp, but she shook her head.
“No thank you.”
“Okay. We’ll stop at least once before we reach the ranch in case you change your mind.”
“I appreciate your kindness.”
He looked at her funny and slowed his pace so she could keep up more easily. “You speak very good English.”
“That’s good to hear.”
At the glass doors, he pushed one open and held it for her. She brushed past his rock-hard body and outstretched arm, coming out jittery on the other side. Between the excitement of embarking on her new life and the sexy cowboy, she felt a little intoxicated.
His truck was as broken in as the man. He placed her suitcase in the bed and opened her door first. She slid into the leather seat and tucked her hands under her knees.
He tipped his hat to her before closing her door. Something warm slid into her belly as he circled the truck and go
t behind the wheel.
“It’s much different from what I’ve come from.”
“So I hear.” Locking a hand on her seat, he twisted and backed out of the parking space. His scents enveloped her—clean man and some light, musky aftershave that she wanted to inhale more of.
“How much did Papa tell you about me?”
“Enough to know I had to help get you over the border.”
She pressed her lips into a line, emotions rising up. Did Cash really have a hand in bringing her here? Had he actually paid for her trip?
He navigated them onto a highway with so many lanes she wondered how he knew which to choose.
“Sit back and enjoy the ride, darlin’. We have a few hours together. Welcome to Texas, Maya Perez.””
His drawled words created a new warmth in her belly.
* * *
“You haven’t known my father long.” Maya looked as tightly strung as a lost calf. The rings in Cash’s pocket seemed to grow heavier.
“Long enough to know he’s a good worker.”
She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, he is.”
“It’s been a while since you’ve seen him.”
“A year, sí. I mean, yes.”
“You don’t need to correct yourself on my account.”
A flush stole over her light brown skin, and she fidgeted on the seat. “Thank you. Where will I stay? Is there a hotel near your ranch?”
At that, a hoot of laughter escaped him. He guided the truck into the right lane and settled back for a long ride. “We live pretty isolated. If you’re looking for a hotel, you’ll need to stay here.” He gestured to an interstate exit.
“Oh. Will I be staying on your ranch then? When Papa sent the ticket, I never thought to question him.”
Hell, yes, she’d be staying on the ranch. He wished in his bed.
Of course, he’d probably be sleeping on the couch. Despite his attraction to her, he wouldn’t push her for conjugal rights. Hopefully over time they’d come to terms with each other and she’d allow him to share her bed. His body stood up and waved its hands, telling him he was ready now.
He glanced at her sidelong. She returned his stare, bouncing her knee.
