Scent Of Roses. Kat Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ look of alarm, Sam slapped a hand on the youth’s wide back and nudged him forward, forcing Raul into step beside him.

      Elizabeth watched them walk away and found herself smiling. She prayed Raul would give the place a chance, that the farm would be his salvation, as it had been for a number of other boys.

      Walking over to stand in the shade of a fruit tree to watch the boys in the fields and wait for Sam, she saw another car, a dark brown Jeep Cherokee, drive through the gate and pull into the space next to hers.

      A tall, lean man in faded jeans and a navy blue T-shirt climbed out from behind the wheel. He had very dark hair and darkly tanned skin, a nice wide set of shoulders, narrow hips and a flat stomach. As he walked toward her, she saw that the shirt carried the Teen Vision slogan, Only You Can Make Your Dreams Come True, printed in white letters on the front. A pair of solid-looking biceps bulged below the short sleeves of his T-shirt.

      Still, somehow she couldn’t imagine him working as a counselor on the farm. His haircut looked too expensive, his long strides too purposeful, almost aggressive. Even the fit of his jeans spoke of style and money. Elizabeth studied him from beneath the tree and though he wore wraparound shades and she couldn’t make out his face, there was something familiar about him.

      She wondered where she might have seen him and thought that if she had, surely she would remember. He moved past her as if she weren’t there, his gaze focused ahead, striding with purpose in the direction of the new barn under construction where several older boys were busily hammering nails. The dark-haired man walked up to them and started talking. A few minutes later, he strapped on a carpenter’s belt and set to work.

      Elizabeth watched him for a while, enjoying the efficiency of his movements, his obvious skill at what he was doing, and continued to wonder who he was. When Sam and Raul returned, she intended to ask, but when they arrived, the boy’s face was glowing and his smile so radiant the moment slipped past.

      “You’re going to do it?” she said, beaming up at him.

      He nodded. “Sam says he and one of the counselors will help me figure out what I am most suited to learn. He says I can do whatever I am most interested in.”

      “Oh, Raul, that’s wonderful!” She wanted to reach over and hug him, but she needed to remain professional and that would probably just embarrass him. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am.”

      “He can check in on Saturday,” Sam said. “We’ll help him fill out the forms and sign whatever paperwork is necessary.” Technically he would still be in the foster care system until next year and the paperwork would have to pass through proper channels.

      “That sounds great.” Elizabeth turned to Raul. “I can bring you out here, if you like.”

      “Sí, that would be good.” Raul rarely slipped into his native language, only when he was angry or nervous. Still, he was smiling. Sometimes nervous could be good.

      “Your sister will be so pleased.”

      His smile broadened. “Maria will be happy for me. Miguel, I think, too.”

      “Yes, I think they will both be very happy you made this decision.”

      They said their farewells to Sam, who promised to give her a personal tour of the farm whenever she had time, and they started back to the car.

      She was feeling extremely pleased with the way the afternoon had gone when she glanced at Raul and saw that his smile had faded.

      “What is it, Raul?”

      “I am nervous. I want to do this right.”

      “You will. You’ve got lots of people to help you.”

      Still, he didn’t relax. She knew he was worried that he would somehow fail. It was the failures, she had learned, that most of these young Hispanics remembered and those failures shaped their lives. But Raul had a number of accomplishments as well. He had stayed drug-free for a year and now he had pledged a year of his life to Teen Vision.

      “Will you be seeing your sister tonight? I know how excited she’ll be.”

      Instead of a smile, Raul frowned. “I will stop by and tell her the news.” He glanced in her direction. “I am worried about her.”

      “Why? She isn’t having trouble with her pregnancy, I hope?” Though Maria was just nineteen, this was her second pregnancy. Last year, she had suffered a miscarriage. Elizabeth knew how much this baby meant to her and Miguel.

      “It isn’t the baby. It is something else. Maria won’t say what.” His black eyes came to rest on her face. “Maybe you could talk to her. If you did, maybe she would tell you what is wrong.”

      She didn’t like the sound of that. Though Maria’s husband was a stereotypical macho Hispanic, convinced the man was the undisputed head of the family, the couple seemed happy. She hoped they weren’t having marital problems.

      “I’d be glad to talk to her, Raul. Tell her to call me at the office and we’ll set up a time.”

      “I will tell her. But I do not think she will call.” Raul said no more.

      As Elizabeth slid behind the wheel of the car, hissing at the heat of the red leather seat against her skin, she cast a last glance at the barn under construction. Only two sides of the building had been framed, but they were making good progress. She studied the group still hammering away, but the dark-haired man was gone.

      Sitting in the passenger side, Raul snapped his seat belt in place and Elizabeth started the engine. As they drove back to town, the boy seemed miles away and she wondered if his thoughts were on the very different future he was about to undertake, or if he was worried about his sister.

      Elizabeth made a mental note to stop by the little yellow house occupied by Miguel Santiago and his pretty young wife. She would speak to Maria, see what was wrong, find out if there was something she could do.

      Two

      The hour was late. The night black as ink, just a fingernail moon casting a thin ray of white into the darkness. The smell of newly mown hay hung in the air, along with the rich musk of freshly tilled soil. Inside the house, Maria Santiago snapped off the small TV that sat on a little wooden table against the wall of her sparsely furnished living room.

      Though the house wasn’t large, just two bedrooms and a bath, it was only four years old and solidly built, with yellow plaster walls outside and a simple asphalt tile roof. The house had been freshly painted just before they moved in and the beige carpet looked almost new.

      Maria had loved the house from the moment she and Miguel had seen it. With its grassy backyard and zinnia-filled flower beds next to the porch out in front, it was the nicest place she had ever lived. Miguel loved it, too, and he was proud of being able to provide such a home for his wife and the baby that was soon to come.

      Miguel wanted a child even more than Maria. Aside from Maria and Raul, he didn’t have much family, at least not nearby. Most of Miguel’s family lived in the San Joaquin Valley farther north, near Modesto. Maria’s mother had died when she was fourteen, and she had never known her father. Her mother once told her he had left when Raul was born and no one had seen him since.

      With her СКАЧАТЬ