He’d let Rosie make the determination. He had faith in her ability to judge someone’s character—at least more faith than in his at the moment. Being near Jane scrambled his senses for some reason.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Jane emerged from the bathroom. Her wet hair lay in tangled waves over her shoulders.
Rob jumped up from his laptop. “I’m sorry. I should’ve put out a comb and some hair products for you.”
She shrugged. “You can be excused. You’re a bachelor...aren’t you?”
“Look at this place.” He swept his arm to the side, taking in the neat room, every pillow and book in place, and his face warmed as Jane cocked her head.
“Doesn’t look like any bachelor pad I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m kind of a neat freak, but you won’t find many feminine touches or niceties in here.” He marched past her. “However, I do have sisters, and they usually need an army of products and a ton of time to make themselves presentable.”
She tugged on the ends of her wet locks. “Not very presentable, huh?”
He glanced over his shoulder, his face heating up even more. “I didn’t mean that. You look amazing for being in that car accident yesterday. How’s your head?”
“I think it looks better without the bandage—less severe, and I can cover it with my hair. It feels fine.”
She wouldn’t tell him if it didn’t. He swept into his bathroom and grabbed some hair products and other toiletries. He carried out an armful and dumped them on the vanity of the guest bathroom.
When he turned, he almost plowed into Jane standing in the doorway. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks. I’ll see if I can look more...presentable.”
She came out the second time, bunching the ends of her hair into her fists. “I guess I’ll leave it curly.”
“Looks fine. Can’t even see the wound on your head.”
“That’s crazy that such a small cut could cause so much...blood.”
“Head wounds bleed.” He closed up his laptop. “Are you ready?”
She tucked the ripped hem of her shirt into her pants. “I am now. I hope your friend Rosie isn’t picky.”
He hoped Rosie didn’t think he was crazy. They walked out to the Border Patrol truck, his own truck parked on the street in front of his house. He opened the door for her and helped her in with a guiding hand on her back, which stiffened at his touch.
If her ex had abused her, he could understand her jitters, but that still remained an if in his mind. A lot of her story didn’t add up.
He scooted behind the wheel and she said, “My knife?”
Yeah, a lot of things didn’t add up.
Reaching beneath the seat, he said, “I think I stashed it here.”
His fingers traced the edge of the knife’s handle, and he pushed it farther under the seat. “It’s not here. I’ll have a more thorough look later. Is that okay?”
She snapped her seat belt and gripped the strap with two hands. “Yeah, sure.”
On the ride to Rosita’s, Jane peppered him with questions about the town. When she’d gotten her fill, she slumped in her seat. “You know a lot for being relatively new here.”
“I made it my business to find out everything I could about Paradiso. I probably know more than some natives. You know how that goes.”
She nodded. “I do.”
He slid a gaze in her direction and then pointed out the windshield. “That’s it.”
“Cute.”
He pulled in front of the café, and before he could get Jane’s door, she’d hopped out and stood in front of the restaurant with her hands on her hips.
“Looks closed.”
“She opens for lunch, but I know she’s here.” He raised an eyebrow. “Chickening out?”
“It’s a restaurant, not a roller coaster.” She charged past him and yanked open the front door.
He followed her into the cool confines of the tile-floored café with framed photos of Pancho Villa on the walls.
He called out, “Rosie? It’s Rob Valdez. Are you here?”
The grandmotherly woman bustled from the back, patting the long braid, streaked with gray, that wrapped around her head. “Rob, it’s too early for desayuna.”
“I’m not here to eat, Rosie.” He nodded toward Jane, twisting her fingers in front of her. “I have a...friend, Jane, who’s looking for a job—short term. She’s in a little trouble, Rosie.”
Rosie’s warm brown eyes turned to Jane, assessing her from head to toe. Her face broke into a smile. “Sí, sí. Puedo ayudar. I can help. Have you had some experience, mija?”
Jane smiled back, the expression lighting up her face. Then she broke into fluent Spanish that put his to shame.
Chapter Four
Her lips were moving faster than her brain and her brain was freaking out, but when Rosie responded to her in Spanish, Jane kept the smile plastered to her face.
How did she know Spanish so well? The mirror had shown her paler skin than Rob’s, but that didn’t mean anything. She could be half-Latina. The Rosalinda tattooed on her back? Maybe that was her name, a family name.
She held up one hand and said in English, “I’m a little rusty. Do you mind continuing in English?”
Rosie chuckled and nudged Rob with her elbow. “She’s being polite, Rob. Her Spanish is better than yours.”
Rob’s eyes narrowed as they assessed her. “It is, isn’t it?”
Jane swallowed and turned to Rosie. “I do have another favor to ask of you. As I explained to you, I had to leave my situation quickly and I’m trying to keep a low profile. That means I don’t have any of my credit cards or any cash. Would you be willing to pay me in advance so that I can get a motel room and maybe a few things to wear?”
Rosie’s bright eyes flicked from her to Rob. “I thought you and Rob...”
Rob cut off Rosie with a sharp cough. “Jane is my friend. Of course, you’re staying with me, Jane. I thought I made myself clear.”
“Rob is a very good man—the best.” Rosie folded her hands and
