gun into the air, risking leading the smugglers back to him. The desperate act of a man who’d run out of choices.
But Grace had showed instead of the gunmen, apparently.
Must have been his lucky day.
Unless, of course, she was somehow connected to the smugglers. But then why would she save him? He decided to trust her for the time being, but moved his chair, anyway, so he’d be within reach of the knife on the counter.
A rough-looking cat appeared from nowhere and measured him up.
“Her name is Twinky,” Grace said. “She’s a stray.”
The cat sauntered closer, rubbed herself against his legs, then sauntered away.
The Mexican woman kept wringing her hands and talking all through their exchange.
Grace shot him a helpless, reluctant look. “Do you know what she’s saying?”
He asked her to slow down a little and focused on the flood of words. “She’s looking for her husband and her kids. Five-year-old twins, a boy and a girl.”
Grace paled, her gaze flying to the window. “They were out there last night with her?”
He repeated the question in Spanish, then translated for Grace.
“They came to the U.S. with her husband two months ago.”
He asked a couple more questions and got the rest of the story. Didn’t much like it.
“Her husband got a visa to come and work for the wire mill in Hullett. The whole family was supposed to get papers, but something delayed hers at the last minute. The company representative told her she had to stay behind for a few days, and then she could come after her family once everything was straightened out.”
The woman was clearly distraught and desperate, wringing her hands as she waited for him to finish translating. He didn’t think she was lying.
Grace brought him another glass of orange juice, then got a carton of eggs out of the fridge, her attention on him as he continued to translate.
“She was told the children should go ahead with the husband. School was starting. The representative even got them fully loaded backpacks and everything.”
His instincts prickled. He asked a few more questions.
“She says she last saw her family when they crossed the border. Never heard from them again. Never heard from the company representative. She can’t reach him at the phone number he’d given her. She talked to the Mexican police. She even called the Hullett police here. Neither would help her.”
Grace turned on the stove under the eggs then put a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. The small, sympathetic gesture made tears gather in the woman’s eyes all over again.
“Did you come across the border last night with a guide?” he asked in Spanish, wanting as much detail as possible.
She hung her head, her shoulders tensing as she backed away from him. For a second he thought she might make a run for the door. Grace either understood some of his words or she’d guessed them because she positioned herself so she could block him if he made a move. That she thought he might give chase was flattering, but wholly impossible. He could barely put weight on his injured leg.
Then, peeking from behind Grace, the young woman gave a hesitant nod at last, and rushed to explain.
“She’s afraid that something terrible happened to her family,” he told Grace. “All she wants is to find them and make sure they’re safe.”
“I’ll take her to town after breakfast and help her with the authorities,” Grace said immediately. “If you could, please, tell her.”
He shook his head. “When I call in and they come to pick me up, we’re going to have to detain her. Other people will want to ask her questions, too. She’s here without papers. She’s not going to be let loose, no matter what her purpose is here.”
And then it happened. In the blink of an eye, Grace Cordero morphed from a pretty hostess cooking for her guests into a stunning warrior amazon. The gentle, nurturing aura disappeared in a second. She pulled herself to full height and stalked right up to him, a steely expression coming onto her face.
Yowza. The budding interest his battered body had registered toward her earlier turned into instant, fullblown lust. Whatever blood he had left rushed south.
All right, then. Looked as if he was going to live, after all, he thought with some amusement and not a little surprise at his visceral response to her. It’d been a while since a woman made him sit up and take notice. He’d been too busy lately.
Her eyes flashed as she faced him down, her jaw tight, her shoulders stiffening. “She stays where she is.” She didn’t raise her voice, but the hard tone carried plenty of warning.
While she had a core of kindness, one that would push her out into a storm in the night to save a stranger, one that would have her take in a distraught woman without questions, she also had a whole other side. His instincts said it was a side a smart person wouldn’t mess with. He had a feeling Grace Cordero would make a bad enemy.
“Do you live here?” he asked her in a mild tone to defuse the sudden tension.
“I arrived yesterday morning,” were the words that came out of her mouth, but the flash in her eyes said: none of your business.
“How long are you staying?”
Her chin came up. “As long as it takes to help Esperanza.”
And Ryder drew a slow breath. Grace wasn’t staying. Not if he had anything to do with it. Her land wasn’t safe now, and it would be even less so in the upcoming weeks. She needed to leave.
SOMETHING ABOUT THE UTTER devastation in Esperanza’s eyes reached the grief in her own heart. She knew what it was like to lose family. She had nobody left.
Grace pulled her cell phone from her pocket and tossed it to Ryder. She’d done the best she could last night, but he still needed medical attention. “Call whoever you need, but leave me and Esperanza out of this.”
The sooner he left, the better.
She’d meant to call first thing in the morning, but hadn’t had the chance. She’d ended up sleeping in the recliner to keep an eye on him overnight. She’d woken to Esperanza coming downstairs, and drew the woman into the kitchen so they wouldn’t wake Ryder. Of course, he woke up, anyway, a few minutes later.
Unconscious, he’d been manageable. Sitting at her kitchen table, he looked fairly intimidating. He was pale and weak, but obviously well-built, a fighting machine on his better days. He had a sharp gaze, a pronounced, masculine chin, straight nose and a mouth that awakened some secret feminine longing inside her.
Not to be acted upon, obviously.
“If you work for border patrol, why aren’t you wearing their uniform?”
Esperanza watched, her face scrunched with worry, probably aware that her fate
