Her Cowboy Hero (The Colorado Cades) (4 page)

“Maybe you’re right, I do need a man.” She jutted her chin up. “Good thing that, as of yesterday, I found one.”

* * *

T
HERE
WAS
A
shiny red pickup in front of the ranch house when Colin returned from town. When he’d left, Annette’s car had been there. This must be someone different. He took the steps two at a time, glad Hannah had company. Maybe he could return the truck keys and get to work on the porch without further conversation. Even though she’d affirmed her understanding that he was sticking around only for this one quick repair job, did he really trust that she wouldn’t try to coax him into staying?

More to the point, did he trust himself to resist? Home cooking like hers and the sibling-free solitude of the bunkhouse were appealing. If she didn’t have a kid—or those arresting hazel eyes—he would have considered staying until his brother’s wedding.

Before he had a chance to knock against the door frame, voices carried through the screen.

“—your sense? You can’t just bring strange men home!”

“I told you to keep your voice down,” Hannah retorted, her own voice only marginally softer. “And it’s
my
ranch. I make the decisions. I think it’s time for you to go, Gideon.”

“I haven’t finished,” the man argued.

Not bothering to waste time knocking, Colin let himself inside, even as he called himself a fool. For all he knew, “Gideon” was a relative or a boyfriend and Hannah might resent a third-party interloper witnessing the argument. But Colin had a problem with the man’s refusal to leave.

“Hannah?” He wheeled around the corner, distantly recognizing that it had been a long damn time since he’d felt protective of anyone but Justin or Arden.

His would-be boss was between the kitchen counter near the fridge and a beefy guy standing close enough that Colin had the urge to yank him back by his collar.

“You’re back.” Hannah’s face went from tense to one of those dimpled smiles faster than a hummingbird could beat its wings. She raised an arm, pushing Gideon out of her way with the heel of her hand and coming to take the truck keys from Colin. “This is my neighbor, Gideon Loomis. He was just leaving.”

The man’s blond eyebrows shot toward the brim of his gray hat. “Actually, I—”

“Mommy?”

All three adults turned to see Evan in the wide entryway, his hair sticking up in wayward tufts, a child-size green blanket clutched in his hand.

Gideon gave the kid a hearty smile. “Oops—we wake you, little guy?”

Evan scowled.

“How about I make it up to you with a piece of cake?” Gideon offered.

“I don’t think so.” Hannah crossed the kitchen to scoop the boy up in a hug. “He had some after lunch. No more sweets until after dinner. And only then if you eat some vegetables,” she told her son.

Evan’s wrinkled nose and unenthusiastic grunt nearly tugged a sympathetic smile from Colin. He himself was a meat-and-potatoes man. Natalie had always cajoled him to set a good example by eating more green stuff.

“If Danny doesn’t see you eating food like broccoli or lima beans, he’ll form a preconceived notion that they taste bad.”

“That’s not a notion—that’s scientific fact.”

Colin blinked, startled by the memory of teasing his wife. He was normally more vigilant about stifling those recollections. Dwelling on what he’d lost made it harder to move forward.
I need air.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to back the truck up to the garage and start unloading lumber. So...I’ll be outside if you need me.” The words were ostensibly for Hannah, but his gaze swung to Gideon. If Hannah asked her neighbor to leave again, Colin would be close enough to offer his assistance in escorting the man from the premises.

A few minutes later, as Colin stood on the porch double-checking some measurements, the front door opened. Hannah walked Gideon outside. She looked calmer, but her smile wasn’t genuine. Her hazel eyes were flat, and no dimples showed.

Shaking his head, Colin rejected the involuntary sense of familiarity. He’d known Hannah for less than twenty-four hours. Who was he to assume he could read her?

“Please tell your mom I said thanks for the order,” Hannah was saying. “And she’s always welcome to call or email me. I hate for anyone to waste their time with an unnecessary trip.”

There was a pause as Gideon digested her pointed words, and though Colin kept his eyes on what he was doing, he could feel the man’s hostile gaze prickling the back of his neck like sunburn. “Wasn’t any trouble. You’ve only been in Bingham Pass a few months, but we’re neighborly around here. You’ll come to realize there are a lot of benefits to that.”

In Colin’s experience, there were also benefits to being left the hell alone.

All Hannah said was, “Careful going down the stairs.” She waited on the porch as Gideon climbed into his truck, expelling a frustrated breath as he pulled away from the house. “I swear, that man...”

When she didn’t finish the thought, Colin turned toward her. She stood with her hands on her hips and her jaw tight.

“First my boss back in Colorado Springs didn’t want to take no for an answer, and now Gideon with his macho I-know-best act. What is it about me that draws these yahoos? It’s because I’m short, isn’t it? Makes me look like an easy target.”

His gaze slid down her body then back to her face, flushed with spirited indignation that made her hazel eyes sparkle like gemstones. “It’s a lot more than your height that attracts men.” What the devil was he thinking, saying that out loud? He’d spoken the truth, but there were too many wrong ways she could take his comment. She might lump him in with the inappropriate men she’d already been criticizing. Or, worse, she could take it as flirtation.

Colin didn’t flirt. He left that to Justin, the glib charmer who’d set Cielo Peak dating records before asking Elisabeth to marry him.

Hannah looked momentarily startled by his words, but then nodded. “You’re right, of course. Gideon’s attracted to my ranch. I think his family looks at this property as the opportunity to expand their outfit. But I’ve got my own plans, which don’t include the Loomises.”

Right, her idea to remake the ranch as a B and B. In theory, he could picture her as the proprietor of a bed-and-breakfast. She seemed outgoing enough to make guests feel welcome and, though he’d yet to try her food, there was evidence suggesting her meals would keep tourists happy. But a friendly personality and impressive menu wouldn’t be enough. For starters, she needed front steps that weren’t lawsuits waiting to happen. Also, he was having difficulty imagining that abandoned bunkhouse as a guest cottage people would actually pay money to inhabit.

She grinned suddenly, exposing her dimples. “I can’t tell if you’re a
really
good listener, or if you’re ignoring me in the hopes that I’ll go away.” She reached for the handle on the screen door. “I’ll leave you alone so you can work, but thank you. Two rescues in two days—you’re quite the hero.”

Her praise slithered unpleasantly over him. The waitress in town had used that same word when talking about Hannah’s late husband, a hero to his country. Colin was nobody’s hero.

“You exaggerate my usefulness,” he objected. “If I hadn’t come along yesterday, you could have changed that tire without me. And as for today...” He recalled how close Gideon had been standing to her, looming. How bad was the man’s temper? Was he the type to lash out at a woman? “Do you think Gideon’s a big enough problem that you needed rescuing?”

“You misunderstand. Today,
he’s
the one you rescued.” Hannah stepped inside, tossing one last beatific smile over her shoulder. “Another ten minutes with that blowhard crowding me, I might have Tasered his ass.”

Chapter Four

Evan sat at the dinner table, rolling peas around his plate with his fork—as if his mom wouldn’t notice he wasn’t eating them as long as they stayed in motion.

“No peas, no dessert,” Hannah reminded him gently. Rising, she carried her own plate to the sink.

Through the kitchen window, she could see Colin still working even though the sun had faded to an orange-gold memory stretched across the darkening horizon. She’d stepped outside nearly an hour ago to ask if he wanted to join them for dinner. It hadn’t come as a surprise when he’d declined, asking only for a glass of water and for her to turn on the porch lights for more illumination. Granted, she didn’t know him, but he seemed easiest in his own skin when he had a job to perform. So wouldn’t it benefit them both if he stayed? Lord knew there was plenty to do around here.

Behind her, Evan heaved a martyrlike sigh. “Is this enough peas gone, Mommy?”

She grinned at his put-upon expression and the four remaining peas he was refusing to eat on principle. “I suppose so.”

The town librarian had hired Hannah to bake some apple tarts for a fund-raising party, and she’d made extras to keep at home. She warmed one up and served it to Evan with a dollop of vanilla ice cream. Afterward, she settled him on the couch with Scarlett and “Trainket,” his beloved green train blanket. Having been washed hundreds of times, the fleecy material was no longer quite as soft as it had originally been, and the appliqué train was missing a car.

“I have to go down to the stable,” she said, handing him a walkie-talkie so they could stay in communication. Its match was clipped to her belt. Evan enjoyed feeling like a secret agent, and she couldn’t imagine leaving sight of the house without being able to keep in contact. “You can watch cartoons until I get back. Then, bath time.”

The first time she’d gone to the stable without Henry, Kitty or Annette to keep an eye on Evan, she’d been nervous. She didn’t even like working in the garden without him, and that was within easy view of the house. They’d made a game of how he was a pirate and the sofa was his ship, and the carpet was shark-infested waters. But, truthfully, she allowed him so little television time that when she did, he was transfixed.

Before leaving the house, she stopped by the kitchen and sliced off a piece of the roast beef they’d had for dinner. She stuck it between two pieces of homemade bread, along with romaine, tomato and a dab of horseradish. Then she wrapped it in a napkin and stepped onto the porch—where Colin was swearing in a creatively mixed string of words that reminded Hannah of a long-ago foster brother. Their foster mother had tried washing his mouth out a number of times, but then stopped, figuring that much soap wasn’t good for a kid.

“Problem?” Hannah asked.

He turned to her, shoving a hand through his hair. She tried not to notice how lifting his arm like that tightened the white T-shirt against the muscular contours of his chest.

“I’m replacing some of the top boards on the porch so no one crashes through them like you did that step this morning, but it’s not just the surface wood that needs fixing. Some of the supporting joists and piers are starting to give out, too. I’ll need to make another supply run tomorrow.”

Damn. Her budget was already strained, and porch repairs had not been on her priority list. That was the kind of thing she’d hoped to take care of once the bunkhouse was ready for guests and she’d had a chance to generate some revenue.
Bright side, Hannah.
If the scope of the job was greater than Colin had expected, then he’d be here longer, wouldn’t he? That gave her a stronger chance of convincing him to help make her vision a reality.

With that in mind, she conjured a friendly smile and held out the sandwich. “I brought you some food.”

He reached for it eagerly, but his eyes were wary. “What, just one course?”

Maybe now wasn’t the time to mention the six different dessert options inside if he was still hungry later. “I can do understated,” she said. “I told you this morning, the kind of spread I laid out for breakfast is indicative of special occasions. Not a daily occurrence.”

He scowled, looking uncomfortable at being classified with “special occasions,” but then he took a bite of the sandwich. For a second, his features relaxed into an expression of utter satisfaction, and everything female in her clenched at the sight.

Partly out of self-preservation and partly in strategic retreat, she grabbed the now-empty glass of water and went back inside to get him a refill.

“Mommy?” Evan said as she entered the room. “I’ve seen this one before.”

She changed the channel and found him a different cartoon. “I have to give Mr. Colin some water, then I’m going to feed the horses. For real this time,” she said, ruffling his dark hair. Evan had her hair and eye color, but Michael was the one who’d had curls as a child. Plus, Evan had his father’s smile.

When she returned to the porch, she found Colin packing away tools for the night.

She sat on the bench, tugging on her boots. “Can I ask you a favor? I mean, besides the obvious one you’re already doing, rebuilding my disaster of a porch? I was headed to the stable and wondered if you’d come with me. I know you’ve had more experience with livestock than me, and I’d really appreciate your expert opinion on the horses. Not that Henry isn’t an expert, but...”

He cocked his head in silent question. She was used to the chatter of her inquisitive son and Henry’s garrulous tales of bygone days. Colin didn’t waste a lot of words.

“Henry White,” she said. “He worked this ranch for years, and he knows his stuff. His eyesight isn’t what it used to be, though, and he’s a little more, um, absent lately. I’m learning as fast as I can, but I can’t guarantee that if Henry overlooked something I would catch it.”

Colin pressed a finger between his eyes, and she could almost see his thoughts floating in the cool evening air.
This lady doesn’t know what she’s doing. Can’t she see this is a doomed enterprise?
She refused to believe that. No one was born an expert at anything. What message would she be sending her son if she gave up whenever she encountered difficulties?

She thought back to her conversation with Colin in the bunkhouse. “You said you work with animals ‘as often as you can.’ You must care about their well-being.”

He sighed. “Lead the way.”

“Thank you.” Turning so he wouldn’t see her victorious grin, she opened the container beneath the porch bench and pulled out a large flashlight. There was enough light to get to the stable, but it would be darker when they came back. She stepped gingerly down the stairs. “You can use the flashlight for your walk to the bunkhouse tonight. Or I could drive you.”

“Walking’s fine,” he said. “It isn’t far to the bunkhouse, and I’m not afraid of the dark.”

She almost made a joke about her son and his various coping mechanisms for braving the dark but stopped herself. Colin hadn’t warmed to Evan. She wished it didn’t bother her—tried to tell herself his aloofness was better than Gideon’s phony “let’s be best pals” demeanor—but she was a mom. She naturally wanted others to see what a great kid Evan was.

“How’s your ankle?” Colin asked as they fell into step in the yard.

“Better. Tender, but—”

“Mommy!” Evan called through the screen a moment before banging the door open. He was wearing his own pair of boots and had his blanket around his shoulders like a superhero cape. “Changed my mind. I wanna visit the horsies, too.”

Repressing a groan, she stole a peek at Colin. He looked as if he’d swallowed rusty nails.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her son no, but the whole reason she’d been comfortable leaving Evan for a short time was because she’d trusted him to watch TV. That obviously wasn’t going to work tonight. Apparently, the combination of horses and a newcomer to their ranch was a lot more mesmerizing than watching Shaggy and Scooby unmask villains.

Colin met her gaze. “Makes no difference to me,” he said stiffly. But, in direct contradiction to his words, he lengthened his stride, putting distance between himself and the Shaws.

“Come on,” she told her son. She pointed at the broken step. “Be careful, though.”

Evan scampered down the stairs with no care for his safety, rushing by Hannah and going straight to Colin. “You’re tall.” Her son’s voice was full of admiration. “You’re like a
giant.
”

Unsurprisingly, Colin didn’t answer. The silence didn’t deter Evan.

“Did you get tall from eating healthy food? Mommy sings me a song about—”

“Evan!” She intervened before her son reenacted the “Grow Big and Strong” song she’d made up to coax him into eating vegetables. Colin didn’t need to hear it—or see the accompanying dance steps. “Don’t bother Mr. Colin, okay? He’s been working with a noisy saw and hammering nails all afternoon. I’ll bet he’d appreciate some peace and quiet.”

Her son scowled. “Quiet is
boring.
”

“Don’t argue with your mother.” Colin’s sharp admonishment wasn’t loud, but it startled both Evan and Hannah. She hadn’t expected him to speak. Having him suddenly participate in the conversation was otherworldly, like being riddled by the sphinx.

Evan’s eyes were wide as he craned his head back to regard the “giant.” “Yessir.” Then he miraculously fell silent.

Hannah was impressed. She’d wanted Colin to stick around because of his experience with livestock, but it turned out he wasn’t half-bad with outspoken four-year-olds, either. She caught up with him, turning to give him a smile of thanks. It died on her lips, though, when she got a good look at his profile. Even in the dim light of moonrise, there was no mistaking the pain stamped across his handsome features.

It was an expression that felt familiar, the same kind of agony that had contorted her soul when she’d lost both her husband and, in the same day, her mother-in-law. Ellie Shaw hadn’t been well, and news of Michael’s death had triggered a massive stroke. After years of foster care and praying for home and family, Hannah had lost her only two relatives in one cruel blow. A week later, Hannah had gone into premature labor, barely caring when she was loaded into the ambulance whether she lived or died.

It wasn’t until the next day, when she’d heard Evan’s lusty wail, that she’d realized a piece of Michael still lived on, that not all her family was dead. She had a son who needed her, and she was ashamed of her earlier ambivalence about surviving. For his sake, she’d sworn to find the positives in life, to resist the bleak drag of depression that sucked at her. Evan was the bright spot that motivated her to keep moving forward during the most challenging times.

What motivated Colin Cade? And what had he suffered? She’d never seen such light eyes filled with so much darkness.

* * *

C
OLIN
BREATHED
IN
the familiar scents of leather and wood, horse and hay. They were soothing, but as ragged as his nerves were after walking to the stable with Hannah and her boy, he would have preferred a slug of whiskey. It was weird how being around kids stirred memories not only of his own lost son, but his father, who’d died when Colin was a teenager.
Don’t argue with your mother.
How many times had Colin heard that edict from behind the newspaper at the kitchen table, directed either at himself or Justin, who’d been a rambunctious hellion as a kid? When Dad bothered to lower the newspaper before making the pronouncement, you knew you were
really
on thin ice.

Was it strange to miss his parents after all this time? Colin’s mom had been dead now for more years of his life than she’d been alive. But it was easier to miss them than to allow himself to miss Natalie and Danny. That was a more recent wound, one that hadn’t healed properly. He could almost envision the jagged scar it had left inside him.

After the cover of darkness outside, being beneath the stable’s electric lights made him feel too exposed, as if Hannah would be able to glimpse into his memories. He cleared his throat, shifting focus on the horses that had begun to wander into stalls from the outside paddock.

“Guess they know it’s dinnertime,” he said. “How many horses are there?” There were a total of eight spacious stalls, and the stable was in better shape than either the main house or his current quarters. Whoever had owned the ranch before, decor hadn’t been his or her top priority.

“Four. Mavis here is the oldest,” she said, coming forward to stroke the nose of a sorrel mare. “She’s been on the ranch for seventeen years. I take her out for exercise, but when this place is up and running, I don’t plan to let guests ride her. There’s Tilly and Apples, both Tennessee walkers and good with people. Viper’s the black gelding. He’s a little sneaky, but doesn’t challenge confident riders.”

She showed Colin where the oats and feed buckets were. They hung them over the stall doors and snapped them into place. He noticed that the wood at Viper’s stall had been chewed.

“That may be an indication that he needs more roughage,” he commented. “Might want to give him more hay before he fills up on the oats.”

Evan was suitably quiet and restrained around the horses. Hannah had obviously taught him stable manners. Or he was intimidated by the thousand-pound beasts. He eyed them with a combination of adoration and apprehension.

“We have a donkey, too,” Evan informed Colin. “His name is Ninja.”

Hannah took her son’s hand and gently led him out of the stall where Colin was running a brush over Apples, getting to know the horse and checking her general condition. “I laughed the first time Michael told me donkeys were used to help protect the cattle against predators.” She bit her lip. “Michael was my husband.”

“The marine.” He met her gaze, understanding the relief he saw there. She was glad he already knew, sparing her any awkward explanations. “I heard about him in town.”

According to Colin’s waitress, Michael had been killed before his son was born. Hannah’s late husband had never seen Evan drag his green blanket across the dusty floor or heard his son ask when he would be big enough to ride a horse all by himself.
At least I had two years with Danny before he was ripped away.
But in some ways, wasn’t that worse? There were still nights Colin woke from dreams of the past with the sound of his toddler’s surprisingly deep belly laugh echoing in his ears.