Her Cowboy Hero (The Colorado Cades) (13 page)

“I don’t think the two of you kissing was a onetime thing,” Annette said. “He looks at you like he could throw you down on the nearest horizontal surface at any minute.”

Hannah had to admit, the unpredictability was exciting. “Between you and me, I think it helped that Malcolm was here the other day.” Had Colin heard the man ask her to tomorrow’s May Day festival? “Is it wrong that I like the idea of him being a little jealous? I should be more evolved than that.”

“As long as it’s ‘a little jealous’ and not ‘possessive stalker,’ I don’t see the harm in it. When Todd took me to my tenth high school reunion, we ran into one of my old flames. Todd was perfectly polite to him, but I could tell he was battling the green-eyed monster.” She grinned over the rim of her glass. “It was pretty hot, actually. And so is your cowboy.”

She liked the sound of that—her cowboy. But he was careful not to belong to any person or place. In a couple of weeks, he’d be gone. He’d been very candid about having a job lined up that started after Justin’s wedding. He’d made a commitment. She knew he took those seriously.

Slumping into her chair, she asked, “What am I going to do when he leaves?”

“You mean because Henry’s hurt and you won’t have either of them to help around here?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Annette’s expression was full of sympathy. “Maybe it would be best if the two of you stay away from horizontal surfaces between now and when he goes. Why torment yourself with a taste of something you can’t have?”

“Because I think I’d rather have the memory than say goodbye to him without exploring this, without knowing how good we could be together.”

She was in the prime of her life, and she hadn’t had sex in over four years. It hadn’t bothered her much before, because there hadn’t been anyone important enough to her that she’d wanted to make love. Colin was important.

The question was, how important was she to him?

* * *

“S
O
.” T
ODD
R
EED
flipped over one of the steaks on the flame. “You and Hannah?”

It was such an abrupt topic change from plans for a toolshed that Colin wondered if Todd was purposely trying to catch him off guard with the question. Stalling, Colin sipped his beer, but no simple answer came to him. “Not exactly. She’s a hell of a woman, though.”

Todd nodded. “If it helps, she likes you. Since she’s moved here, there have been a few guys interested. Gideon, of course, but also one or two who aren’t buttheads. Mostly, she’s been so focused on Evan and this ranch she doesn’t seem to notice.” He gave Colin a level look. “You, she notices.”

He flashed back to those hot kisses they’d exchanged the night of her birthday. Yeah, she noticed him. And it was mutual. All week, the tug between them had been growing stronger. At least, it had on his end. It was difficult to say what she’d been thinking since she’d snapped at him on Monday for avoiding her. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. He’d only needed some time and space. Now he had more of both than he knew what to do with.

“How did you and Annette meet?” he asked. He was glad to be rediscovering the art of conversation, of making friends, but he didn’t want to stand there dissecting his relationship with Hannah.

“She was dating my cousin. I knew the second I saw her that I wanted to be with her, but obviously the situation was complicated. I couldn’t make a move until after they broke up, and even then she thought it would be too awkward. She took some convincing.” He smiled at the recollection. “The challenge of wooing her was some of the most fun I’ve ever had.”

Colin paused to consider what wooing Hannah might entail. Making birthday plans for her had been enjoyable, but those plans had included Evan. The idea of doing something specifically for her, something intimate and romantic—

“Unfortunately,” Todd continued, “Annette and I have been facing a lot of challenges lately.”

“The baby thing?”

“I’m trying to support her in this, but it’s starting to take over our lives. We both really want kids, but I feel like, personally, I could be happy with just her. She’s enough for me. I guess she doesn’t feel the same way.”

As a brother with two younger siblings, Colin had dispensed tons of advice over the years. He was a little out of practice, but the stark gloom in Todd’s voice motivated him to find the words.

“You may be misreading her. I know she would love to have a baby, but maybe that’s not the only reason she’s upset. What if she sees this as her fault, worries that she’s the reason you won’t get to be a father?” No one wanted to stand between the person they loved and their happiness. “Maybe deep down, she feels like you deserve better.”

Todd’s eyebrows shot up. “Then she’d be crazy. I can’t think of anything better than finding the right person to love and knowing they love you back.”

It seemed like such a simple, comforting concept. But life took agonizing twists and turns. Colin knew that love alone didn’t guarantee happiness. Perhaps that was why he’d been holding back with Hannah. He knew he couldn’t offer her any guarantees.

Then again, since no one else could honestly offer them, either, what good did it do to keep his distance?

Chapter Eleven

It was so late when the Reeds left on Friday night that it was technically Saturday. Hannah flopped back on the sofa with a yawn. She’d had a great time, but now she was bone-tired. Far too exhausted to make it to her bed.
Maybe I’ll just crash here.

She always enjoyed Todd and Annette’s company, but they’d been a welcome buffer tonight against the tension between her and Colin. And the longer they stayed, the more she’d gradually relaxed and enjoyed herself. The margaritas hadn’t hurt. Todd had declined to try them because he had to drive home, which had made Hannah sigh, thinking of all the empty space upstairs. Lord knew when she would be ready for paying guests.

“Sure you don’t want to stay the night?” she’d offered. “I am the proud owner of shiny new pipes that cost a fortune. I feel like more people should be using the second-story bathrooms now.”

After dinner, she’d put aside her plumbing woes. They’d played a couple of kid-friendly games with Evan. After he’d been tucked into bed, they’d switched to poker for pretzel sticks and other card games that included a lot of good-natured trash talk. When Hannah had gone to put everything back in the closet, Annette had caught sight of the Clue board game, which led to lots of funny quotes from the movie. Even though it was after ten by then, the women had talked the guys into watching the DVD. A wonderful evening—but since she’d rolled out of bed at 5:00 a.m. to bake and decorate cupcakes, she was now thoroughly fatigued.

“Hannah?”

The voice startled her, and she sprang into a sitting position to find Colin leaning against the wall watching her. Oh dear heaven, he was shirtless. His damp hair was slicked away from his face, and he wore a pair of his usual drawstring pajama pants.

She made a valiant effort to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“Not yet.” He grinned lazily. “I went up to shower and put those ‘shiny new pipes’ to good use. When I came back down, I wasn’t sure I should bother you. You looked as if you might be asleep.”

“In another three seconds, I would’ve been.” She yawned again, covering her face with her hand.

“Well, since you haven’t conked out yet, I wanted to ask you a question. Will you go to the festival with me?”

The request took her by surprise. He’d barely said anything when she and the Reeds discussed the festival earlier tonight, deciding where and when they would meet tomorrow afternoon. It would be Hannah and Evan’s first time at the annual event, and Annette had recommended her favorite vendors as well as the best spinning rides to make Evan squeal with glee and make Hannah want to throw up.

“Sure,” she stammered, realizing it was taking her far too long to reply. She blamed the contours of his shirtless chest. “If you want to come with me and Evan, we—”

“I don’t just want to go with you. I want to take you. As in, a date. Between a man and a woman. And, obviously, her adorable four-year-old son,” he added ruefully. “I don’t want you to think of this as a friend or employee tagging along. I wish I could pick you up, that I had something to drive other than my motorcycle. So I guess I’m asking if I can take you out
and
if I can borrow your truck.”

“A date?” She knew he’d said lots of other words, too, but that one had jumped out at her.

With a nod, he moved toward her. “Yeah. The kind where I tell you that you look nice, then I win you a large, fuzzy stuffed animal at an overpriced game booth and kiss you at the end of the night.”

“Yes.” Her heart was slamming against her rib cage. “I’d like to go on a date with you.”

He gave her a brilliant smile. Then he leaned down, and she forgot to breathe. Had he decided not to wait for that good-night kiss? Because she was very okay with that. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss above her knuckles. “Good night, Hannah.”

How was she going to wait until tomorrow? And how on earth was she supposed to sleep now?

* * *

V
EGETABLE
SOUP
MIGHT
never be Evan’s favorite lunch, but Hannah wanted to make sure her son got something resembling vitamins in his system before he started filling up on funnel cake and cotton candy. While he dawdled over his lunch, Hannah went to change. She was donating three freshly baked cakes as prizes for the cakewalk and hadn’t wanted to risk getting frosting or batter on her dark sundress. When she returned to the kitchen, Evan scowled at her.

“You’re in a dress.” He said it like an accusation. “Do I hafta wear fancy clothes?”

She laughed. “No, you’re fine the way you are.” He was in boots, jeans and a T-shirt with a cowboy character from one of his favorite animated movies. She fought the urge to self-consciously double-check her reflection. Was she too fancy for an outdoor, small-town festival? She’d put on a long black cotton dress printed with small yellow daisies, paired with a lightweight denim jacket and boots.
Are you really going to take fashion criticism from a four-year-old?

So what if she’d taken some extra time to curl her hair before pulling it into a bouncy ponytail? It wasn’t as though she’d applied full makeup, only mascara and cranberry-colored lip gloss. Besides, isn’t this what women did on dates, expended a little effort on behalf of a guy they liked?

When it was time to go an hour later, she was gratified to see that Colin had dressed a bit nicer than usual, too. He was wearing his best pair of jeans—what did it say about her that she knew his collection of jeans by heart?—and a button-down blue shirt, rolled up to expose sun-bronzed forearms. He was helping her carefully situate the cake boxes in the truck when Evan gave a small cry of dismay.

“I forgot my hat, Mommy!”

She unlocked the door for him and he raced to his room, returning with a black felt cowboy hat Henry had given him when she and Evan first moved here.

Evan mashed it on his head as he got into the truck. “Now I’m like you, Colin!”

Hannah had noticed that, somewhere around her birthday, Evan’s new idol had stopped being “Mr. Colin.” The boundaries were definitely shifting.

It was a beautiful day. They rolled down the windows and all three sang along to Hannah’s CDs. She’d heard Colin whistle or hum as he worked, but this was the first time she’d really heard his singing voice.

She was impressed. “You’re good.”

“Mom used to insist I got her voice, like I got her talent for drawing, but we all knew she was kidding.” He chuckled fondly. “That woman couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. When she belted out Christmas carols, the neighborhood dogs buried their heads in the snow.”

Hannah laughed at that, wondering absently what stories Evan would someday tell about her. Hopefully, he’d be able to say that she’d taught him about perseverance and the value of positive thinking. She wanted Evan to believe in himself and have the courage to follow his dreams.

Since pretty much the entire town turned out for the May Day festival, parking was an ordeal. After dropping off the cakes at the designated delivery area, they circled back block by block until they found a lot with open space. Hannah half expected her son to complain about the long walk, but he was too spellbound by the sight of the giant inflatables and large rides temporarily dotting the familiar landscape. By far the biggest attraction was a looming Ferris wheel at the center of the festival.

Evan craned his head all the way back, looking up with wide eyes. “I am not going on that.”

Hannah squeezed his shoulders in a sideways hug. “You wouldn’t like it anyway—it doesn’t go fast enough for you.” She knew from their trip to Heritage Square that he was a speed demon. He loved amusement parks. The only obstacle to his joy was frustration that he wasn’t tall enough to ride every attraction.

They stopped at a booth to purchase a thick roll of tickets for the rides and games.

“What first?” Colin asked.

As expected, Evan asked for rides, jumping up and down enthusiastically to make his point. But they had to cross a midway en route to the closest ride, and he got distracted by the noises and sights, sucked in by the barkers’ calls to win prizes.

Colin gravitated toward a booth where players threw darts in an attempt to pop colorful balloons spread across a corkboard wall. “My kind of game,” he said, grinning. “You’re looking at a two-time Peak’s Pints dart champion. Our local bar back home,” he said in answer to Hannah’s quizzical expression. He ruffled Evan’s hair. “You want to try?”

Colin exchanged two tickets for three darts and was handing them to Evan when he froze, his gaze contrite. “Sorry,” he said to Hannah. “Probably should have asked if it was all right before I gave your kid sharp projectiles.”

She laughed. “You have my blessing.”

“That’s a relief.” He nudged Evan with his elbow and said in a stage whisper, “After this, we’ll try running with scissors.”

“Why?” Evan asked, his tone perplexed.

“Not really,” Colin said. “It was a joke.”

“Oh. It wasn’t very funny. Knock-knock jokes are better.”

Evan picked up his first dart, and Colin knelt down, helping him aim. The boy didn’t put enough force behind his first throw, and it didn’t even make it halfway to the wall. He did better with his second try and, with some assistance from Colin, popped a lime-green balloon on his third, winning a plastic horse.

When Colin offered to win something for Hannah, she suggested they postpone that for later in the day so that they wouldn’t be carrying it for hours on end. “The horse fits in my purse,” she said. “A giant teddy bear won’t.”

They navigated through the boisterous crowd and finally made their way to one of those awful “spinny rides of dooms,” as she called them. It looked like a giant egg that had been cut in half to allow for passengers. The three of them squeezed onto the bench seat with Evan in the middle, and the attendant secured the small metal gate meant to ensure their safety.

Evan wiggled his body, too excited to sit still. “This is gonna be great!”

Then the buzzer sounded and the whirling began, and Hannah had a brief thought about the things mothers endured for the happiness of their children. Although she had to admit that this particular ride wasn’t bad. Oh, it went on forever and Evan was screeching the entire time and the crazed looping, dipping pattern was every bit as nausea-inducing as she remembered. But Colin had his arm around the back of the seat, his fingers sliding over the nape of her neck, and the sensations that caused were so enjoyable she almost gave in to Evan’s demand of “Again! Again! Again!” when the ride ended.

Colin laughed. “Pace yourself. We’re going to be here until the fireworks tonight, so maybe we should see what else they have that we want to spend our tickets on, okay? We can always come back...” Frowning, he glanced at his phone, then tucked it back in his pocket.

“Everything okay?” Hannah asked as they exited the gated ride area.

He nodded. “My sister. Again. She’s a little hypercommitted to staying in touch.”

“Sounds nice, speaking as someone who’s never had any siblings, hyper or otherwise.” Sometimes she felt bad for Evan, an only child with no dad. Was she enough family for him, all by herself? But she brushed away the maudlin thought.

Colin gave her a sheepish look. “Didn’t mean to sound ungrateful for having a sister who cares about me so much. I love Arden. I’ll call her back when I’m not surrounded by so much background noise.”

They passed by a corral where kids were getting pony rides, and Colin offered to stop if Evan wanted to participate.

Evan shot them the kind of disgruntled look Hannah expected to see a lot during his teenage years, along with the single-word caption
lame.
“I don’t want to ride tiny horses. I want to ride Viper! I know I’m not big enough to ride him by myself, but can you take me, Colin?”

“We’ll see.”

Hannah got a text from the Reeds that they were running late, so they killed some time in the funhouse. Evan enjoyed the crooked walkways and trick mirrors. His favorite was one that had a normal reflection from the center of the room, but the closer you got, the taller you appeared. He went back and forth, laughing at his dramatic growth spurt. When he got back to where she and Colin stood in the middle, he linked hands with each of them. Reflected back at her were a good-looking man, a little boy having the time of his life and a woman who was dangerously close to being happy. They looked too much like a family, like a dream too treacherous to pursue.

Seeing so clearly what she wished she could have—what she wished she could give her son—caused a lump in her throat. “Need some air,” she told the guys before dashing outside. “Feeling a little claustrophobic in here.”

According to loan officers, there was a high probability her plan to turn an old ranch house into a tourist destination would fail. But better to channel her time and energy into something that had a chance than to try to build a future with a man still recovering from his past. She planned to make the most of her time with Colin and would try to view it as a gift. But then she’d have to let him go.

* * *

A
LIVE
BAND
played inside a large tent with tiny white lights strung all around. It had been Annette’s suggestion to come in and enjoy the music since none of the adults wanted to brave any zooming, zigzagging rides after eating dinner. They still had another hour until the fireworks display.

Within minutes, they’d found a table, although Evan had to share a seat with his mom. They piled the tabletop with purchases, including the carved wooden eagle Hannah had bought Henry as a get-well present, and prizes. True to his word, Colin had won Hannah a giant stuffed animal. Now she just had to figure out the proper place in the house for a lime-green octopus that was roughly the same size as Evan.

Annette sighed happily. “Nice to get off my feet for a few minutes after covering every square inch of the festival.” Yet she was tapping her toes with enough vigor to jostle the table, keeping time with the lively song, and there was a wistful quality to her expression as she watched the couples spinning across the portable dance floor.