Tacker (Arizona Vengeance #5)(48)

There’s something comforting about sitting in this old barn office with the air conditioner rattling. Raul sips at beer, watching me with wizened eyes. I don’t feel like I have to have my guard up with him, and I wonder why that is. I know part of it is because I’ve worked hard to lower my walls, but there’s more to it.

“It’s all because of Nora,” I say, wondering why I’m in such a sharing mood.

Raul nods, a fond expression on his face. “That girl is special. Knew it the moment I gave her her first riding lesson.”

“How old was she?” I ask.

“About twelve as I remember,” he replies gruffly. “Helen brought her out, explained a little bit about her background to me. Nora spoke English because the European countries all teach it, but because she’d grown up in such a rural area, she hadn’t had a lot of practice with it. The communication was a little hard at first. You could see she’d experienced something horrible because she had that shy, wounded look about her. But you could also see that, deep in her eyes, there was determination.”

I try to imagine her back then… maybe that dark hair in pigtails and struggling with the language a bit. Suffering unimaginable grief and trying to acclimate to a new country and home. Then stepping up to a big horse, determined to master it.

Yeah… Nora’s special.

“She’s the hardest-working person I’ve ever known,” Raul continues, by his tone a little lost in fond memories. “She was so determined to become an American. She wanted to speak fluently by the time her adoption with Helen became finalized, so every time we had a riding lesson, she would chatter the whole time, forcing me to talk with her so she could practice.”

I chuckle, figuring it probably hadn’t taken long for Nora to worm her way into Raul’s heart. I know he considers her to be like a daughter.

“What about your family?” I ask.

Raul takes a long pull from his bottle, his eyes falling a little flat. “My wife, Guadalupe, died nine years ago. Our kids moved East years ago, though. Got a handful of grandkids I don’t see all that often because they never come back to visit. Sad to say, Nora’s more like a daughter to me than my own.”

“You’re lucky to have her.” I lower my gaze, becoming reflective. “Hell, I’m lucky to have her.”

Raul’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“You know… as my therapist,” I quickly correct.

“Didn’t sound like you were thinking of her like a therapist,” he replies with challenge. But not in an offended way. He almost sounds fucking delighted by it.

I furrow my brow, wondering what’s on his agenda. Is he being overprotective? Do I need to start some major backpedaling?

“I wanted to kiss Nora last night,” I blurt out, then have to restrain myself not to clap my hand over my mouth in shock that I just admitted that to this man who may as well be Nora’s father.

“Say what?” Raul asks with rounded eyes.

“We were dancing, and talking, and well… I wanted to, but I didn’t. I know we can’t.”

“She has ethical guidelines, Tacker,” Raul says quietly, and I’m slightly mollified by the empathy in his voice. “Her license is at stake. You don’t have those things holding you back.”

“I know.” The frustration is heavy in my voice. “And I have no business thinking about her like that. I fucking lost my fiancée in a plane crash. I’ve been in such deep grief and guilt over that that I truly should not be thinking about another woman—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Raul says, sitting up straight in his chair and holding a hand up. “Stop right there. Putting the ethical issues of Nora being your therapist aside for just a moment, you cannot let your past losses dictate who you can or can’t be interested in.”

I pause, letting that sink in a moment. “I’m confused… are you telling me to be interested in Nora or not?”

“I’m telling you if you’re ready to move on and have a relationship again, you do it. Whether that is Nora or someone else.”

“Whether it’s Nora?” I press. “So you’re saying I can have an interest in her in particular?”

“Are you always this dense?” Raul asks with a slight eye roll. “Let me break it down… you deserve happiness. If you are ready to take the step forward in finding it, take the biggest damn step you can. As for Nora, she is your therapist. She cannot be involved with you. If she’s not your therapist, then she can. Simple as that.”

Simple as that, huh?

An idea forms.

“Does she want to be involved with you?” Raul asks hesitantly.

“I think she wanted to kiss me last night, but I can’t be sure. It was just a moment… fleeting, but I think she was right there with me.”

Shaking his head, he mutters, “Christ… I can’t believe I’m sitting here trying to give advice on your love life with Nora.”

He doesn’t say anything else, even though it sounds like he was getting ready to unload on me. I lean forward, staring at him expectantly.

Raul’s gaze lowers to his beer bottle where he seems to contemplate something a moment. When it returns to me, he sighs. “Like I said, if you’re ready to move forward to find happiness, might as well take the biggest damn step you can.”