A Cowboy's Touch (17 page)

Reagan was right. Tonight was the perfect opportunity to get closer to Wade. Maddy wouldn’t be there, he was off work, and it was a romantic evening. She had to be more charming. She thought of Dylan’s overt flirtation. Not a chance. She knew her limits.

Abigail glanced up at Sugar Hill, dodging spread-out quilts and children waving sparklers. The hill was lit with flares of fireworks and sparklers. She hoped she could find Wade. And if she did, what was she going to do with the opportunity?

17

W
ade flipped out the quilt and lowered himself onto it. He pulled the pack of sparklers he’d bought for Maddy from his pocket and tossed them down. So much for that.

“Bring a lighter?” Dylan dropped onto the other side of the blanket.

Wade retrieved it and tossed it by the sparklers. There were at least a couple hundred people on the hill, but the sheer size of the butte allowed plenty of space for spreading out.

Dylan lit a sparkler and sat back, watching it flicker and flash. He’d been quiet since they’d run into his ex-girlfriend at the fairgrounds.

“So what’s the deal with you and Bridgett?” Wade asked.

“No deal. We’re friends.”

“Didn’t look like it to me. Couldn’t take her eyes off you.”

Dylan held the sparkler farther away, watching the light burn down the stick. “We’re friends,” he said firmly.

“Thought you liked her.”

“I did.” Dylan shrugged. “She wanted to take it to the next level, and I didn’t.”

“What’s wrong with the next level?”

Dylan gave a wry grin. “It’s the level preceding ‘till death do us part.’”

Wade wondered if Dylan would ever tire of leaving a trail of heartbroken women and settle down. “Don’t you want kids someday?”

“Don’t know. I got Maddy.”

“Maddy’s
my
kid.”

Dylan gave a crooked grin. “Exactly. I get to come around, tug her ponytail, then go home to my quiet house.”

As Dylan’s grin slipped away, Wade caught a flicker of something on Dylan’s face and suspected that the quiet house was sometimes too quiet. Then again, the man was rarely home. He needed activity, socializing, fun. Maybe he needed all those things
because
his house was so quiet.

But Wade wouldn’t verbalize the thought. Dylan would turn tables, and then Wade would be on the hot seat. It had taken almost a week for them to find their footing after their argument in town. The conversation was never revisited; they just bumped along until the conflict was forgotten. That’s what men did.

Dylan’s sparkler burned out, and he tossed the stick to the ground.

“Hey, guys.” Abigail sauntered toward them on those long legs of hers.

Wade gave her a nod.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Dylan stood, Wade just a second behind him.

She cocked her head and smiled as she approached, not at Dylan, but at him.

Wade gulped. There was something . . . different about her. About the way she looked at him, the way she carried herself. Something that stole the moisture from his mouth and made him wish he’d told Maddy no. No, you can’t watch fireworks with Olivia. No, you can’t leave me here with Abigail.

Abigail’s foot caught on something and she stumbled, pitching forward. Dylan, who was closer, reached out and caught her. Abigail straightened, her eyes averted. “Sorry,” she said, pulling away from him.

“You can fall into my arms anytime you like.” Dylan winked. “Have a seat.”

Wade took his spot on the edge of the blanket, Dylan sat on the other side, which left the middle for Abigail. She eased down between them. Wade wondered if that stumble was contrived, then recalled the genuine embarrassment on her face. Maybe not.

“Sparkler?” Dylan offered.

“Sure.” Abigail took the stick and Dylan lit it. She extended it as it flared to life. “I haven’t held one of these since I was a kid.”

“Dylan!” Three women approached, one of them clutching a bulky blanket. “You have to come sit with us. Taryn’s going to tell us about her disastrous trip to Yellowstone.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to miss it,” another one of the women said.

Dylan cast Wade a glance. “You mind?”

Well, what was he supposed to say with Abigail sitting right here? He could hardly beg Dylan to stay.

“Nope.”

Dylan hopped to his feet. “I heard you had an unfortunate encounter with a skunk.”

The group walked off, skirting families and coolers, their chatter and laughter fading into the night.

“He’s sure popular with the ladies,” Abigail said, watching the group go.

“Disappointed?”

She shot him a look, and he read the surprise in her eyes. “I’m not interested in Dylan.”

Wade looked away, denied that her words gave him any pleasure. He hoped she didn’t think he was fishing for information. Last thing he wanted was Abigail thinking
he
was interested. She’d gone quiet, and he glanced her way.

She seemed mesmerized by the sparkler, apparently having shrugged off his comment. A pale yellow glow washed her face, and the reflection of light flickered in her green eyes. She narrowed those eyes, studying the sparkler as it burned down the stick, her brows bunching together.

She turned the sparkler for a better view. “I wonder how these are made.”

“Careful,” Wade said, just as sparks spit onto her bare arm.

Abigail squealed, dropped the sparkler. Wade grabbed the cool end of the stick and tossed it onto the grass.

“Hope I didn’t ruin your quilt.” She brushed at the spot.

Wade tamped out the sparkler with his boot. The woman fell, tripped, and dropped things more often than a child. “Gonna start calling you Grace.”

She lifted her chin. “You saying I’m clumsy?”

Wade shrugged. “Saying you’ve been here two minutes, and you’ve already dropped a sparkler and tripped over your own feet— unless that was on purpose.”

Abigail frowned.

Wade cringed. Now why’d he have to go and say that?

“Why would I—” Her lips pursed. “I did not trip on purpose. I was mortified, if you must know.”

“Makes no difference to me.” Wade wiped his boot on the grass and got resituated.

“If I were interested in Dylan, I’d go out with him—he’s asked more than once, you know.”

A twinge of jealousy flared. He didn’t know Dylan had pursued that hard. “Like I said, no difference to me.”

Abigail frowned and looked away.

He’d done it now. Managed to take things a couple levels past awkward. He really had a way with ladies. Stretching his legs in front of him, he looked skyward. The display could start anytime now. Anytime.

Was he really so incapable of making conversation with a woman? So out of practice? He shooed a mosquito from his face. Who was he kidding? It wasn’t just any woman. It was Abigail, daggonit. She did something to him that didn’t need doing. If she’d just keep her distance and stick to her job, everything would be just dandy. But no, every time he turned around, there she was. Falling off horses, inviting herself to picnics and fireworks.

Okay, so she hadn’t invited herself to the picnic, and the fireworks was supposed to be a group outing.
Supposed to
being the key phrase. He looked in the direction Dylan had disappeared and scowled.
Thanks a lot, friend
.

His gaze passed over Abigail as he turned back. She sat with her legs crossed, twisting that ring on her finger. A breeze wafted by, and she shivered. He reached behind and pulled the quilt up, dropping it onto her shoulder, careful not to touch.

She looked at him as if suddenly remembering he was there. “Thanks.” Her eyes were shadowed in moonlight, and Wade couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from them. For the moment, she wasn’t Abigail the nanny. She was just Abigail. Abigail with her easy nature, her quick wit, her nurturing ways. She bewitched him, was what she did. With those wide, questioning eyes. With those full lips that just begged to be tasted.

Her lips parted ever so slightly. His gaze darted back to her eyes.

Caught.

Wade turned away. Son of a gun. Why was he looking at her lips? Could he be more obvious? What had gotten into him?

Abigail. That’s what. The fact that his heart was galloping in his chest was just foolish. Crazy.

A boom sounded, and a second later a red starburst exploded overhead. The crowd
ooh
ed and
aah
ed.
Thank You, Jesus
. Now he could focus on something other than the woman cuddled up in his blanket.

Faint strains of “America the Beautiful” carried from the fairground speakers, and a blue starburst bloomed overhead, followed quickly by a loud boom.

Abigail was glad for the thunderous booms if only because they made the ones in her chest seem trivial. She stared into the sky, but all she saw was Wade’s face, Wade’s eyes when he’d looked at her. Another man might’ve kissed her—it was that kind of moment— and much as it pained her to admit it, she’d wanted him to. Might’ve even leaned a fraction of an inch toward him. She cringed at the thought.

But he’d turned away, leaving her feeling forsaken and confused. And embarrassed. Again. He had a way of bringing out the stupid in her.

What was her problem? Why couldn’t she focus on her job? The subject of her investigation was right under her nose, living under the same roof, completely accessible. She’d never had it so easy. And yet.

When she was with him, she forgot her purpose. And it wouldn’t be easier now that she’d upped the ante. She glanced covertly at him. He studied the night sky, a blue glow shining on his way-too-handsome face.

Of course she was having trouble focusing on her job. What woman wouldn’t? Wade was a gorgeous cowboy. He was Marlboro man minus the tobacco. Could she help it if he made her go weak in the knees? If he made her forget herself and want things she couldn’t have? She was only human.

You’re the Truthseeker, Abigail. For heaven’s sake, act like it
. She had to think of
Viewpoint
, of what would happen if she
didn’t
find the truth and write the story. The magazine her mother had started and nurtured for all these years would go the way of the dinosaurs. So many people would lose their jobs. People who needed their income and their health benefits. Starting with Mom.

It would be financially devastating for her mother, who couldn’t retire for another ten years at least. Her father had been a good provider, but schoolteachers didn’t exactly pull in the big bucks, and they’d had to take out a second mortgage when his health problems began.

A loud boom pulled her from her thoughts. Overhead, the sky exploded in shades of green, then red, then white.
Ooh
s and
aah
s followed.

“Moose Creek does the Fourth proud,” Abigail said, hoping to break the tension. The fireworks were more than she’d expected.

“Used to be bigger when the town was prospering, I heard.”

“This your first fireworks without Maddy?” A breeze ruffled Abigail’s hair, and she pulled the quilt tighter.

“Guess she’s growing up, wanting to be with her friends and all that.”

“It was bound to happen.” Abigail smiled at him, then forced her gaze away before she got sucked in again. She watched the colors explode overhead. “I was a daddy’s girl too. He never lost that spot in my heart, even after he died, so I think you’re safe.”

“You aren’t close to your mom after all you went through with losing him?”

“We’re close. My dad and I just had a special bond.” This was as good a time as any. “Did it bring you and Maddy closer when her mother died?”

She waited through two loud booms for a reply.

“In a way. Definitely made me more protective.”

Abigail took a breath and made the leap. “How did your wife pass away—if you don’t mind my asking.” She held her breath, wondered if she’d pushed too far.

“It was an accident.” There was only sadness and regret in his voice.

His expression confirmed her initial conclusion. He was watching the display, but she wondered if he saw any of it.

“I’m sorry. It must’ve been very hard.” She watched him for a moment more, hoping his expression would betray his thoughts, but nothing surfaced. She watched white sparks sizzle across the sky. She couldn’t waste this opportunity. How often were they alone?