by Vivian Arend
God, Tamara thought, horrified any child would talk about their mother in that way, even though she knew there were times it was justified.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, not wanting to get into a discussion about the absent Wendy.
“I’m glad she’s gone. She was mean to Emma. Emma’s glad she’s gone too, and I’m not just saying that. I know because Emma told me.”
Tamara couldn’t take anymore. “Sasha, I’m very sorry that your mom wasn’t nice, but I don’t want to talk about her with you.”
“Because you think I’m too little.”
A rush of anger struck so hard Tamara nearly shook, and her fury probably snuck out in her voice. “Yes. Because grownups aren’t supposed to use bad words when little people are around, and the idea someone was mean to you and Emma makes me want to track her down and nail her to the floor until she learns to be nicer. I don’t like very much of what I’ve heard about your mom, but it’s not my place to say bad things, especially to you.”
Sasha blinked.
Tamara held her tongue. Too bad she hadn’t managed it thirty seconds earlier.
They sat in silence for a bit then Sasha settled back on her pillow. Eyelids slowly closing before they popped open, forced there by one determined little girl. “Emma won’t go in your room because it was hers.”
“Well, it’s mine now. You’re welcome to visit me, although I’d appreciate if you knock first. Maybe if you visit, Emma will as well.”
A decidedly un-childish snort escaped. “Doubt it.”
She sounded so much like Caleb, Tamara blinked.
Silence fell. Sasha’s eyes stayed closed for longer and longer each time until Tamara thought it was safe. She went to stand—
“Don’t go,” A childish, soft request. More longing in the tone than demand.
Tamara smiled as she gave in. “I’ll stay, but I’m tired. I’m going to lie down next to you. Are you okay with that?”
Sasha nodded, wiggling to make room.
Tamara took a moment to remove her slippers before settling in position. She wondered if she dared rub Sasha’s back, then chose instead to slow her own breathing and close her eyes most of the way.
One exhausted little girl was asleep in under thirty seconds. Tamara remained next to her, though, fully dressed on top of the sheets. Her brain whirling until sleep came to claim her.
Chapter Eleven
Caleb stumbled up the steps in the evening darkness, cursing solidly as his thigh met the edge of the railing with a bruising smack.
He was cold. He was tired, and every inch of his clothing was soaking wet. As a final fuck you very much, he was still annoyed as fuck…for what had turned out to be no reason at all.
Yup, he would admit it. Right now he was one cranky bastard.
After a day from hell it made sense he wouldn’t be a happy camper, but he’d started off in the foulest of moods, and things had only gone downhill from there.
Last night waiting up for Tamara to return from her girls’ night out while pretending he wasn’t waiting up had been sheer torture. He’d finally kicked his own ass and took himself off to bed.
She was a grownup. She was old enough to know what she wanted and who she wanted to be with…
…and all the platitudes in the world didn’t help settle the fury in his gut when he walked outside at four a.m. and didn’t see her truck in the yard.
Soft curses turned the air around him blue, and the ranch dogs had stepped gingerly out of his way. He’d decided to find her and rain down fire and brimstone as hot and wild as any revival-tent preacher when he stomped back to the house two hours later and found—
The scent of coffee and baking filling the kitchen, like usual.
Tamara curled up in one of the outside chairs, like usual, gazing contentedly over the lake. She’d greeted him happily, then explained about her broken truck.
He clearly had no reason to be upset, but it wasn’t easy to turn off the pain that had begun to fester inside.
Followed by said day from hell, which had started moments after finishing his coffee before he’d even gotten to say good morning to the girls. Rushing out the door to an emergency call from one of the crew who’d been in an accident not far from home.
So now at whatever ungodly hour it was, Caleb stripped down not even two paces into the kitchen. He threw his filthy clothing on the floor in the laundry area before grabbing a towel off the rack and wrapping it around his hips. A quick glance at the wall clock said it was two a.m., and he strode toward his bathroom, planning to crank the heat as high as possible to chase away the chill in his bones. Maybe boil off some of his festering temper at the same time.
He rounded the corner, and caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows right before a solid body made impact with his. Adrenaline rushed his system as he caught hold to stop from falling over, jerking them against him, one arm locked high, the other low.
“Oh my God, Caleb, stop. It’s me. Tamara.”
Shit.
“Sorry.”
He went to let her go, then froze. The towel he’d hitched around his hips hadn’t been fastened very well, and with his quick actions, he must’ve loosened the knot.
The fabric drifted downward over his thighs to land silently on the floor, leaving him naked.
Tamara grasped his forearm with her wrists and shook it. “Caleb. Let go.”
It was sweet heaven and hell, her soft body held in front of him, the clean fresh scent of her in his nostrils an aphrodisiac. Not that he needed anything to get his motor going. Knowing she was in the house was enough to make him go off, even after his shitty day.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
“You’re scaring me. Where the hell have you been? And why are you creeping in at this time—?”
Dammit all. He lifted one hand to cover her mouth, the other still locked around her torso. “Shush. Don’t wake the girls.”
She stiffened, but her lips closed under his fingers, so he loosened his grip.
She spoke more quietly, but the anger in her tone was ozone sharp, the scent of lightning on the air. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want to wake them, especially since they spent the last hour before going to bed crying.”
Caleb just about jerked her around to face him before remembering he was naked. “What the hell are you talking about? What’s wrong? Are they hurt?”
Tamara let out a dramatic sigh. “No, physically, they’re fine, but are we really going to have this discussion with you holding me like you’re practicing to become a ninja warrior? What is wrong with you? Let me go.”
He might have loosened the grip on her mouth, and she’d spoke in a near whisper, but the whole time she’d continued to wiggle, which was exactly what he didn’t need. His body reacted to the warmth and softness of her rubbing against his body. Frustrated with himself, still pissed at her, his response was sharper than it should have been.
“I’ve been chasing runaways for the past twelve hours, and everything I own is wet or muddy, including me, but if you’d like to continue this conversation, by all means. I’m naked, so you go ahead and strip down as well, and we can get in the shower together.”
Dead silence.
Ha. So that’s what it took to make her go tongue-tied.
Tamara straightened her spine. “Oh.”
He still wanted answers. “Go put on the kettle,” he ordered. “I need a shower before we can talk.”
Caleb released her then turned, headed silently for the bathroom. Wondering if she would stand there motionless until she heard the door safely close.
Only this was Tamara. A quick glance over his shoulder proved she’d turned as well, and even in the shadowy darkness of the hallway, he could tell her eyes were taking him in from top to bottom. Some devilry tempted him to pause and let her gawk. See if she could maintain a straight face, or if she’d be blushing before they were done.
Because as cold as he was, it was amazing how quickly his body had
hardened. There was no mistaking his response.
A soft noise escaped her before she scurried from sight into the living room.
He kept the shower short, and a few minutes later met Tamara in the kitchen. Steaming hot chocolate waited for him, and he took it gratefully, drinking deeply before putting the cup back on the table.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and a small note of satisfaction rose in his belly. Maybe the unflappable Ms. Coleman wasn’t so unflappable after all.
“Did you find the horses?” she asked quietly.
“Not all of them. Couple of trees came down and took out a section of fencing. We didn’t find out until it was too late. I think the horses headed to the neighbours’ land.” He glanced at her. “I was damn grateful to know you’d be here for the girls. I’m sorry I didn’t call—we kept going in and out of reception areas—but I did think about that.”
Tamara nodded but didn’t speak.
For once it was him who fought to fill the quietness. He couldn’t seem to stop, even getting hazy with exhaustion. Truthfully, something inside him wanted her to know he hadn’t just been out for all hours without a good reason.
“Hopefully we can find them over the next few days because the weather is supposed to turn for the worse, and a couple of them have foals.” He took a long drink before continuing. “Of course, that happened after the morning call out to deal with a transport trailer that went off the road not even fifteen minutes after leaving the ranch.”
“Kelli said the driver was okay, but she didn’t know much more than that,” Tamara told him.
“Thankfully, he was just shook up. It was a steep section of road, and could have been worse.” Caleb paused. “I had to put one of the horses down.”
His attempt to keep his regret from showing was a failure because she wore an all-too-knowing look. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Part of the job. Now, what happened with the girls?”
Tamara tilted her head. “You lost track of what day it is?”
Between his frustrations last night and the whole shitstorm of today, Caleb was half-asleep on his feet. “I’m too tired to play games. Just tell me.”
“October thirty-first.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, excuse me. We’re after midnight, so it’s now officially into November, but we weren’t a few hours ago.”
A sick sensation stole through his exhaustion. Halloween. The girls. “Ah, fuck.”
“They still got to go trick-or-treating but it wasn’t quite the same as going with you. They were excited enough to be out they didn’t realize how disappointed they were until bedtime. Thus, the tears.”
Nothing he could do to change the past. “I’ll apologize in the morning.”
Tamara shook her head. “Good start, not enough.”
If he hadn’t been so bone-weary, he would’ve reached across the table and shaken her. “Remember that part about I’m too tired for games?”
“They were really upset—”
“Yeah, I got that. Thanks for making it abundantly clear that I’m a shitty dad. Enough with the guilt. I’m going to bed.”
Tamara was out of her chair, slapping her hand down on his shoulder before he could rise to his feet. “For man who asked me to help, you’re damn quick to get snarky. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m trying to tell you to plan for more than just an apology.”
He grabbed her by the wrist, words coming out quietly. Softer, but the intensity went up. “Are you getting some kind of sick entertainment from dragging this out? Because I swear I will pull you across my knees and spank your ass. Get on with it.”
Sudden silence filled the room. A hot beat lingered in the air, full of sexual tension. Her pulse raced under his fingertips and his mouth went utterly dry.
Forbidden images. Deliciously dirty thoughts.
Thank God Tamara ignored his comment, and instead of giving him a piece of her mind, she shared in detail what she thought he needed to do to apologize. Even on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, the wisdom in her plan was clear.
He still had a grip on her wrist, so he gave it a grateful squeeze. “I’ll help put out the—”
“No way. You’re exhausted,” Tamara chided him. “Go to bed. I’ll take care of things in the morning. I already have everything ready.”
Of course she did. Extra guilt would have snuck in if he’d had any energy left to protest. “Thank you,” he offered sincerely, more grateful than he could say. Smoothing over his stupid mistake with the girls was so important.
Tamara patted his hand then wiggled free, making some excuse about heading to bed, although she hardly needed one considering the time.
She vanished down the hallway as if she were being chased, and even brain numb as he was, Caleb wondered what he could do to make Tamara forget his inappropriate comments.
But more importantly, how could he forget the gleam of heat that had risen in her eyes at his words. How could he not think about it the entire time he was trying to convince his body that enough was enough. It was time to sleep.
He woke late, joining the girls for breakfast. He gave them extra kisses before apologizing for missing the night before.
“It’s okay.” Sasha glanced at her sister before answering. “We’re glad you found the horses, Daddy.”
“Did you have a good time trick-or-treating?” he asked. “Did you get lots of your favourite candies?”
Tamara lowered her coffee cup. “They haven’t gone through their bags yet. I suggested they wait to do that with you today.
Caleb gasped. “What? You mean you still have full bags of goodies, and you haven’t even looked to see what you got?” Sasha and Emma both eyed him curiously as he pretended to have a great idea. “That means Halloween isn’t over yet.”
His oldest daughter spoke up. “Daddy. Halloween was last night.”
Caleb shook his head. “Nope. If you didn’t go through your bag, Halloween’s not officially over, which means we should go and see if we can get more loot.”
He winked, glancing over their shoulders to see Tamara give him a nod.
Emma tugged him down to whisper in his ear. “Where?”
He turned to Tamara. “Emma would like to know where it would be possible to find Halloween still taking place. I think they don’t believe me.”
Tamara managed to look dramatically shocked. “What? They’ve never heard that rule before? As to where to go, well, it has to be somewhere they haven’t been yet. I know they’ve been to town, because I took them. And they went to the bunkhouse.”
“Because Uncle Dusty and Uncle Luke took us there. Daddy, Kelli gave me two full-size chocolate bars. And Kelli says everybody who gives out little chocolate bars are just chintzy.” She informed Emma, “That means cheap. I looked it up.”
Caleb didn’t ask Tamara why she was snickering. “I agree,” he told his daughter. “But if you went to town, and you already went to the bunkhouse, what’s left?”
Tamara tapped her lips and pretended to think. “I suppose you could check with the goats.”
Emma snorted. A clear, sharp little-girl sound that drew all their attention. She covered her mouth, her eyes going wide.
Tamara pointed at her, smiling widely. “Ha. I see you don’t think goats like Halloween, but I am pretty sure they do. Almost as much as horses.”
Sasha’s eyes were the size of plates now. “Really? We’ve never gotten treats from the horses before. We never had goats, so I guess it makes sense we never got treats from them, but I’d think that the horses would probably—”
Her words cut off as her little sister jammed a hand over her mouth before dragging her toward where their bags were stashed on top of the dining room table.
“Hey, you’re forgetting something,” Tamara interrupted.
They froze.
Tamara looked them up and down. “You think anyone’s going to give you Halloween candy when you’re not wearing a costume?”
Bags
abandoned to the floor, the girls raced back to their rooms.
Caleb couldn’t stop a grin from stretching his lips. “The horses and goats are in full cooperation, are they?”
Tamara nodded. “Except the goats were little too interested in participating, and Meany lived up to his name. He’d already found one of the bags I stashed this morning, so I moved new ones to where not even he could reach it. Unless the three of them work together, and stand on each other’s shoulders.”
“Don’t go giving them ideas,” Caleb returned. “Those goats are far too smart.”
Tamara muttered under her breath. “Far smarter than me at five in the morning.”
He glanced at Tamara. “Where’s your costume?”
She laughed, grabbing her hat from the laundry room and plopping down on her head. “There. I’m going as a cowgirl.”
It felt good to grin. “Look at that, I barely recognize you.”
She snickered. “Oh, wait. I should go as a cowboy.”
She adjusted her stance, placing her legs wider on the ground. Then she contorted her face into a strange scowl.
He looked her over quickly, trying not to dwell too long on the curves under her well-cut jeans or the soft flannel shirt flaring over her breasts.
“What’s that all about?” He flicked a finger at her expression. “Cowboys don’t go around making faces. That one would scare the horses.”
She straightened with a laugh. “I was going for an I’m serious, don’t mess with me macho cowboy look.”
He shook his head. “Stick with the sweet cowgirl.”
One brow arched skyward. “Now about your costume.” She turned to the kitchen and pulled open a drawer. “I happen to have just the thing right here.”
She came forward with a pile of bright red fabric.
Caleb backed up until he remembered strong, manly cowboys didn’t back down from anything. “I don’t know that I’m cut out to be Little Red Riding Hood.”
She gave material a sudden snap, straightening the fabric as she moved in closer.
“We’ll switch jobs for the morning.” She tipped off his hat, looping a strand of the fabric over his head. She stepped behind him as he glanced down with a grimace.