Her Cowboy Hero (The Colorado Cades) (9 page)

To be fair,
she
hadn’t been the one cupping
his
ass a moment ago.

“I’m over six feet tall,” he told her. “If you need something up there, for pity’s sake, ask me.”

“I need the ducky pan on the end.”

His forehead creased in a disbelieving scowl. “You were risking life and limb for a ‘ducky pan’?”

“Risking my life?”
Hello, hyperbole.
She eyed the four-foot drop from countertop to tile floor. “You sound like my son, who claims he’s
starving to death
if dinner’s the tiniest bit late. Or that anything over fifteen minutes is
forever.
” She drew out the whiny emphasis on the words, trying to cajole a smile.

But Colin just glared. “You hurt your ankle earlier this week, and you’ve been on your feet all day. I saw how you were favoring your leg earlier. Which means your balance is less steady than usual. Can you imagine how much more difficult it would be to get your B and B up and running with a broken arm? You have to be careful!”

There was too much pain in his voice for him to be talking about sprained ankles and duck cakes. Where was this lecture coming from?

“I’m careful,” she promised. “I’m a single parent who grew up in foster care. You don’t think I’ve lost sleep, worried that something would happen to me and Evan would be left without a family? That he’d be alone, like I was?”

His face grew shuttered. With seemingly no effort, he hopped up on the chair and reached the cake pan.

“Thank you.” Once she had the pan in her hands, she explained, “This may seem silly to you, but it’s a paying gig for me. I was hired to make a complicated shower cake. Speaking of showers! My laptop’s on the coffee table in the living room. Feel free to look at your brother’s registry or check email or anything else that’s inconvenient on your phone. If you bring it in here, I can look over your shoulder while I’m mixing and baking.”

What was he thinking behind those blue-green eyes? She would have been content to keep trying to read them, losing herself in them until she reached some kind of clarity, but he was already walking away.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m beat.”

For a man who was supposedly fatigued, he sure was moving fast. He slapped together a sandwich, poured a glass of milk and then retreated back up the stairs.

She was tired enough to be punchy, making jokes in her head about the stranger who’d shown up just long enough to help a short baker in distress, then disappeared as mysteriously as he came. “Who was that pajama’d man?” she asked Scarlett.

Eventually, though, Hannah put thoughts of Colin aside and lost herself in the controlled chaos of baking. If someone were to walk in while she was in the middle of a project—with splotches of batter on the countertop, utensils and mixing bowls piled in the sink and confectioner’s sugar clinging to every surface it could find—they wouldn’t see order. But it was the precision that Hannah found soothing. The measurements, the motion of perfectly cracking an egg, knowing the exact amount of vanilla to pour for the flavor she wanted.

While cakes were baking, she cleaned the kitchen. Then she streamed a movie on her laptop while waiting for them to cool. She’d mixed the appropriate colors for frosting and wanted to get a foundation layer on the baby shower cakes before going to bed. She’d do the final decorating touches before Patricia picked everything up in the morning.

It was nearly midnight before Hannah knew it. She groaned at the clock, knowing she was going to hate herself when it was time to crawl out of bed in the morning. She let Scarlett out one last time and was brushing her teeth when she heard noises. A muffled moan, or cry? Was Evan ill or having a bad dream?

But it was a much deeper masculine voice that split the night with a shout.
“Danny!”
Colin’s raw pain reverberated through the house, and Hannah found herself hurrying up the stairs. She didn’t know whether he’d appreciate her waking him from the bad dream, but even if she weren’t worried that a second scream would wake up Evan, she wouldn’t have been able to leave Colin alone. No one should be trapped in a nightmare that vivid. His anguished roar had given her chills.

As it turned out, though, she didn’t need to wake Colin. When she reached the doorway of his room, she saw him sitting on the side of his bed, feet on the floor. Moonlight spilled through the window, casting a silvery glow across his dark hair and bare shoulders. He didn’t look up, but his body tensed at her presence.

She felt like an intruder, yet couldn’t bring herself to walk away. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly.

“God, no.”

She floundered, about to ask him if he wanted a glass of water before stopping herself, feeling stupid. This was not her four-year-old. Her mission had been to wake Colin, and since that had already been accomplished, she should just go.

“Wait.” His voice caught. He still wouldn’t look at her. “Don’t...don’t leave.”

After a moment’s indecision, Hannah stepped into the room. The bed creaked as she sat on the mattress next to him. She settled her hand over top of his, wishing she could do more but hoping this was comfort enough. There had been plenty of nights after Evan was born when she would have settled for someone simply patting her on the shoulder or giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. It would have been more than enough to know she wasn’t alone in the world, with a new baby who was depending on her and no parenting experience.

You are not alone.
Though she didn’t speak the words, she thought them so loud she hoped Colin felt them anyway.

They sat there like that, in silence, and, after a while, his body began to relax. She stole a glance at his profile and was relieved that his jaw was no longer clenched.

“I’m all right now,” he said gruffly. “Thank you.”

She nodded, almost adding “any time” before catching herself. With any luck, it wouldn’t happen again. And not just for his peace of mind, either, but for hers.

Sitting in the dark of Colin’s bedroom and holding his hand, she’d felt a crack inside her, felt herself opening to him in a way she hadn’t experienced for a very long time. In a way that—if she weren’t careful—would hurt like hell when he walked out of their lives in a few weeks.

Chapter Seven

When Hannah stumbled bleary-eyed from bed the next morning, Colin had already left the house. There was a note on the table about his checking the young cows and starting to work with them to get them halter trained. She had to admit, she was a little relieved not to face him yet. Even though there was a lot she didn’t know about Colin, for a moment, they’d shared an almost intense intimacy. She was hoping the false sense of connection would dissipate before she encountered him again.

She woke Evan, who was always at his quietest and snuggliest for the first hour of the day. Since moving to the ranch, she’d taken advantage of his not being a morning person, letting him sleep in while she tackled some chores first thing. But summer was just around the corner, then kindergarten would start before she knew it. For both their sakes, she should slowly help him adjust to the idea of rising on a schedule.

At least today she had a trip to town to help motivate him. Henry and Kitty were taking him into town for errands followed by lunch at Evan’s favorite pizza place. Hannah, always looking for ways to make Henry feel legitimately useful without overtaxing his strength, had asked him to pick up some supplies, including new salt and mineral blocks for the cows and alfalfa seed.

Before much longer, she’d need seeds to start planting beans and squash. In Colorado Springs, she’d grown some herbs and window box tomatoes in the summer. But she loved having a real garden now. She was learning all she could about what grew best during the different seasons, and when she was working in the soil, her mind often drifted to the menus she wanted to offer her guests. She’d also started trading the first of her fresh produce, like radishes, to Annette in exchange for eggs from the Reeds’ farm. Soon, she’d also have lettuce and carrots to show for her hard work.

Hannah had her list and envelope of money ready to go when the Whites arrived. She was glad to see Kitty was driving, because Henry seemed strangely jittery.

“Too much coffee,” Kitty said in a whisper. “He’s determined never to fall asleep on Evan duty again.”

Again? Hannah didn’t get a chance to ask because Evan was so excited about getting to help like a big boy—and, of course, the pizza—that he practically dragged the Whites out of the house. Hannah had plenty of peace and quiet to finish decorating her cakes and catch up on some laundry.

It was nearly noon when Patricia arrived. She was visibly surprised by the improved front porch. “Why, I almost didn’t recognize the place,” she commented, sliding her sunglasses atop her head. She had the same blond hair as her son, but hers was shot through with distinguished silver. “Gideon mentioned you had some extra help.” Her mouth thinned in disapproval. “I can’t say I would have hired Mr. Cade, given his reputation, but if this porch is any indication, I can’t fault his work ethic.”

“His reputation?” Hannah asked as she escorted the other woman inside.

“Did he tell you about the last place he worked? Or how he left after having an affair with the owner’s wife?”

“What? That can’t be right.”

Patricia stiffened, sucking in a breath. “Are you calling me a liar? We’ve purchased three horses from the ranch next to the McCoy place, where he worked. They told us all about him. He’s had a string of jobs.” She made this declaration with a sneer. To Patricia, anyone whose family hadn’t lived on the same property for six generations was suspect. “He was hired to help the McCoys with calving, but ended up destroying their marriage and leaving them in the lurch.”

It was next to impossible to believe he’d abandon an obligation. After all, he’d stayed on Hannah’s ranch initially because of faulty steps and his sense of responsibility, fixing something that was neither his doing nor his problem.

“Well,” Hannah said, “as infallible as secondhand gossip is, I think I’ll judge Colin on what I’ve seen of him.” He was polite to Henry but companionable, too, not talking down to him in a “here, let me get that for you, old man” kind of way. And he was building Evan a playhouse with scraps from her garage and additional materials he insisted on paying for himself, since the project was his idea. They’d argued for ten minutes before she backed down because her budget was strained already.

“You certainly do make some interesting choices about men,” Patricia said with a glint in her eye.

With an inward sigh, Hannah admitted to herself that she’d likely alienated her best client.
On the bright side, once you start booking guests, you’ll be too busy to fill all of Patricia’s special-order demands anyway.
She’d called twice this week to change her mind about frosting colors for the shower cakes.

Hannah gave her a wide smile, eager to see her on her way. “Need any help getting your cakes to the car?”

It wasn’t until Patricia was driving off that Hannah asked herself the obvious question.
Why
had she antagonized Patricia in Colin’s defense? She filled a pot with water and placed it on the stove, mulling over the situation as she retrieved a box of assorted tea bags from the pantry. As drawn to Colin as she was, she had no idea what he’d done or hadn’t done up until now. Before yesterday, she hadn’t even known he had a sister. She didn’t know what had happened to his parents. Or who Danny was.

Maybe a woman?
Dani could be short for Danielle.

The front door banged open and Colin called into the house, “Whoever just left was driving like a maniac. She almost mowed me down.”

“Don’t worry, I think she fired me, so it’s doubtful she’ll be back,” Hannah answered. Should she tell him the driving might not have been lunacy so much as purpose? Patricia seemed to dislike him strongly.

His boots clacked against the faux hardwood in the living room, then he appeared in the doorway, his expression pensive beneath the brim of his hat. “We need to talk.”

Did he mean about what had happened last night? She clutched the box of tea tight enough to dent the cardboard. “I’m listening.”

“You might need to think about selling your bull.”

“Huh?” It took her mental gears a minute to make the shift, but even once she refocused on the topic at hand, she was confused. Bulls had to be replaced, on average, every five years to avoid defects in the herd caused by inbreeding, but she should still have another couple of years before she did that.

“Last week, he was warning off Henry and me, showing us his side, pawing the ground, tossing his head. Today, he tried to kick me. Luckily, I’ve got good reflexes. It’s not unheard of for bulls to be a little ornery, but he could be a threat to your and Evan’s safety.” He said the words fiercely. It called to mind the other times he’d been not only anxious for her safety but seemingly
angry.
His reaction was always disproportionate to the supposed “danger.”

Something had happened to someone he loved. More recently than his parents.

“Who’s Danny?” The words blurted out with no premeditation, and the blood drained from his face.

He swallowed hard. “My son. Danny was my son. He...died in the same car accident that killed my wife.”

Oh, God.
Sorrow washed over her. She both understood yet simultaneously couldn’t imagine what he’d endured. No wonder he had trouble embracing optimism. If anything ever happened to Evan...

“I am so sorry.”

“I was working. I wasn’t with them. It was about two years ago.” The words were awkward and mechanical, as if he were simply spitting out facts because he didn’t know what else to say.

“And you’ve been on the move ever since?” Patricia had insinuated he couldn’t keep a job. More likely, he’d been running from his pain.

“No, I stayed close to family. Arden was so torn up, I didn’t feel right about leaving Cielo Peak. Then she got pregnant and I promised to stay until the baby was born. It reached a point when I couldn’t take it anymore, though. People say it gets better with time, but being in our hometown... Anyway. Now I’m here.”

Not for long. They both knew that. Would he be able to heal drifting from one place to the next, without a support system? The Reeds and the Whites were invaluable to her. Maybe if Colin stayed somewhere long enough, he’d—

But that wasn’t for her to decide. Opening the Silver Linings B and B was her dream,
her
fresh start, not his.

The only sound in the tensely silent kitchen was bubbling. “Your water’s boiling,” he said.

“I was making tea to go with lunch.” She turned the dial to shut off the stove burner, then stretched on tiptoe to reach a bottle at the back of a cabinet.
Forget the tea.
In a completely uncharacteristic move, she poured a shot of whiskey into a glass tumbler, then quirked an eyebrow at Colin.

He opened his mouth as if to refuse, but then nodded. She set a second glass on the counter and poured another shot.

“In memory of those no longer with us,” she said.

He stepped forward to take his glass and clinked it against hers.

The whiskey seared a hot path straight to her middle. Her eyes watered. “Wow.”

“Been here a week, and I’ve already driven you to day-drinking.” Colin set his emptied glass on the island. “That can’t be a good sign.”

She put the whiskey back in the cabinet. “I don’t plan to make a habit of it, so you’re off the hook.” He seemed quick to take responsibility for things that weren’t his fault. Did he blame himself for not being with his wife and child? “Are you hungry?” Food was a time-honored response to grief. She had the sudden urge to make him a giant pan of macaroni and cheese, but it would be a lot quicker to reheat some homemade ham and lentil soup.

“I guess I could eat.”

“Colin? I won’t pry, but if you ever want to talk...When Evan was born, I tried to put aside all the Michael stuff. I couldn’t cope with that and deal with a newborn at the same time. When Annette and I became friends, it all came pouring out, and it was such a relief.” It had been like facing a horrible fear and realizing it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d dreaded. She was able to answer Evan’s questions about his daddy without bursting into tears, was able to remember good times fondly instead of trying to ignore them as if they’d never existed.

“I appreciate the offer.” But he had no intention of taking her up on it, judging from his tone.

She changed the subject. “That woman who was here earlier? Patricia Loomis, Gideon’s mother.”

He made the same expression she would have made if she’d stepped in cow manure. It almost made her smile.

“Seems she knows the McCoys,” she said neutrally. “Just as a heads-up, Patricia also knows everyone in Bingham Pass, so there’s a chance she might mention a dumb rumor about you and Mrs. McCoy.”

“Good thing I’m not staying in Bingham Pass, I guess.” He leaned against the counter, regarding her curiously. “You said ‘dumb rumor.’ You don’t believe it?”

“Nope.”

“Thank you for that. Even my own brother double-checked with me to make sure it wasn’t true. You’d think the numbskull would know me better than that,” he grumbled.

Conversation turned to cattle while she warmed the soup and chopped veggies for quick side salads. Colin said he’d take care of “worming” the cows before he left next month and again urged her to consider replacing the bull. They talked about the considerations she should make and questions she should ask when buying a bull.

She shook her head, feeling as if she should be taking notes. “And I thought buying a new car was complicated.”

He helped her carry bowls of hot soup to the table and, as he always did, removed his hat when he sat at the table. They didn’t talk much during lunch, but with eating to distract them, it wasn’t an awkward silence. And they both needed to get to other chores. She planned to work in the garden, and he wanted to reinforce some pasture fence.

“If I have time, I’m going to get started on Evan’s house this afternoon.”

It was a bittersweet thought, now that she knew he should be building a playhouse for his own son. But she kept her tone upbeat. “He’ll be thrilled. We’re both really grateful for everything you’re doing.”

“You’re paying me,” he reminded her wryly. “Even if you weren’t, I’d probably be willing to do the work in exchange for just the food.” He rose from his chair, plopping his hat back on his head. “Thank you for lunch, Hannah. You’re a good...”

“Cook?” she supplied when he trailed off, a bemused look on his face.

“Friend.” He sounded mystified by the word, as if he couldn’t remember the last time he’d made one. “You’re a good friend.”

* * *

I
T
WAS
A
GOOD
thing Colin spent so much time doing manual labor, because he couldn’t remember having ever eaten as well as he did at Hannah’s. At least, not since his mom had died. His father’s official cause of death was heart failure, but it had seemed to Colin and Justin that their dad had simply given up on life after losing the woman he loved. Colin could empathize, but his dad’s unwillingness to fight harder had ticked him off. What about the three kids who’d needed him? Once Colin had run the household, most of their dinners had come from the microwave.

Tonight, Hannah had served homemade garlic bread and a lasagna she’d called the secret weapon in her “nutrition arsenal.” While Evan had been washing his hands before dinner, Hannah bragged about the veggies she snuck in amid the layers of pasta and cheese. Now that the dinner dishes had been cleared, she was reading Evan a bedtime story while Colin sat at the kitchen table with her laptop, finally making time to look at Justin and Elisabeth’s gift registry.

There were a few whimsical items on the list that made him wonder if they’d taken Kaylee, Elisabeth’s adopted daughter, to the department store with them. It was weird to think of his younger brother, the formerly confessed commitment-phobe, as a father. But there was no question Justin had grown to love Kaylee and would be a great dad and husband.

Colin braced himself, waiting for the dark anger to rise, the bitter rage that he was no longer either. But it was getting easier to separate his loss from his genuine happiness for his brother. Justin and Arden deserved their hard-won happily-ever-afters. At times, Colin had felt he’d been the luckiest of the three of them because he’d had the most years with their parents, the most normal childhood.