Palmer was reluctant to give it a name. He just knew it was bigger than a schoolboy crush and next to impossible to pursue because he couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept of forever. Not even with a woman he wanted as much as he wanted Soledad.
He groaned heavily, a gust of air escaping past his thin lips. The weight of all the emotion he was feeling fell away, leaving him to question what might come next if he opened himself to the possibility. He knew the life Soledad wanted. He just couldn’t see himself being the one to give it to her. He knew his attitude about marriage and children sounded irrational, but he couldn’t help how he felt, and he had no plans to apologize for his feelings.
He had been here before. Dating women who wanted more than he was willing to give. He’d always walked away, unconcerned with what anyone thought. As he spent more time with Soledad, he suddenly couldn’t see himself walking away from her. But then he remembered they weren’t dating, and he had no idea how Soledad felt about him.
“It shouldn’t be so hard,” Palmer whispered softly, blowing his words into the palm of Lyra’s little hand. “Any advice for me, kiddo?” He paused, drawing the pads of his fingers over the roundness of her chubby cheek. “No? I didn’t think so.” He chuckled softly as he lifted the baby from his lap and lowered her into the crib.
He stood there for a few minutes, staring down at the little girl. Watching her sleep brought him a sense of peace. He relished the peace. Inhaling the scent of cinnamon, nutmeg and sugar, he craved a cookie. One of Soledad’s. As he exited the room, he couldn’t help but think of the sophomoric joke hidden in that thought.
* * *
Hours later, Soledad and Palmer were still noshing on oatmeal cookies and cups of hot caramel lattes. There was little they hadn’t talked about; he’d found a level of comfort with her that felt as natural as breathing.
“Why aren’t you married already?” Palmer questioned. He took a sip of his beverage.
Soledad shrugged. “I’ve spent the past two years completely focused on building my brand. The bakery is my whole life and it has required all of my attention.”
“So, you’re all work and no play?” he asked, wondering what it would take to get her to play games with him.
“Very little play, but then, you know all about that.”
Palmer nodded. “I do. This ranch requires everything I have to give.”
“So, tell me what you actually do. What’s an average day in the life of Palmer Colton, rancher extraordinaire?”
“Not sure that I’m a rancher extraordinaire,” Palmer asserted with a grin, “but I am fully committed to what I do. I supervise all the operations that keep this machine running.
“An average day starts ultra early,” he continued. “The animals have to be fed and watered, and the stables need to be cleaned. I tend the herds, deciding when to rotate stock, and I make decisions about breeding. Sometimes we will gather semen from the cattle to sell to continue the stronger bloodlines. Then, of course, I tend to any of the animals that might be sick. There’s also the maintenance of the outbuildings and ensuring all the fencing is intact. And let’s not forget the fields and crops. That’s a Monday. Tuesdays I do that and the paperwork, and start over again on Wednesdays.”
Soledad giggled. “But you have help, right?”
“And a lot of it. It takes a whole football team to keep this place running. I employ a great group to help me out.”
“I really look forward to getting a tour one day. Maybe I can help out somewhere.”
“Whenever you’re ready. I like to show the ranch off. I’m proud of what I’ve built here.”
“You should be proud. It’s impressive.” Soledad suddenly yawned. She pulled her closed fist to her lips. “Excuse me. I’m suddenly exhausted.”
“You should go get some rest. We can resume this conversation in the morning over coffee and cookies.”
She laughed. “I think I’m all cookied out.”
“Never! I will never get enough of your cookies.”
Soledad’s brow quirked as she eyed him.
“I mean your cookie cookies. I mean...you know...” he stammered, feeling like he’d put his foot in his mouth and not the mashup of oatmeal and sweet raisins he’d been eating.
“I can’t believe you’re actually blushing.”
“You’ve got me feeling like a grade-schooler who told a dirty joke. Or heard one.”
She stood up, her head shaking slightly. “Well, just for the record...” Soledad moved slowly toward the guest bedroom. “If you want a taste of my cookies, you’ll have to ask me nicely.” She tossed him one last look over her shoulder, a wry smile lifting her lush mouth.
Chapter 12
It was still dark out when Palmer’s bedside alarm sounded. After depressing the stop button to silence the annoying chime, he threw his legs off the side of the bed and sat upright. He was stiff and felt heavy, needing a few more hours of sleep, but such was not a luxury he could enjoy. Hanging out half the night enjoying Soledad’s company had come with a price, and he would have to pay it over the next few hours as he went about his chores.
He was headed to the bathroom when he heard noises coming from the kitchen. Jack hadn’t left the room where little Lyra slept, and Palmer couldn’t imagine that Soledad was awake if she didn’t have to be. He suddenly couldn’t remember if he’d set the house alarm, so distracted by Soledad and those darn oatmeal cookies. His heart began to race, anxiety rising with a vengeance. Easing to his nightstand, he removed the loaded firearm from its lockbox, then crept out the door and down the hallway.
As he moved into the room, he lowered his weapon, a smile creeping across his face. Soledad stood staring into the refrigerator. He couldn’t help but notice her bra-style top and the boy-cut shorts that complemented the length of her legs. She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail that swung back and forth behind her. He cleared his throat and she looked up to meet his gaze.
“Good morning,” she chimed cheerily. Her tone changed slightly as her eyes dropped to the weapon in his hand. “Everything okay? Should I be scared?”
Palmer nodded. “Everything’s good. I heard someone out here and was coming to make sure they belonged.” He engaged the safety and went to tuck the weapon into the waistband of his sleep pants when he realized he was standing there in nothing but his underwear. His eyes widened and his cheeks turned a nice shade of embarrassed when he realized Soledad was staring at his bare chest.
“I like your tighty-whiteys.” She giggled.
He ignored the comment. “What’s got you up so early?”
“I thought I’d make you breakfast before you headed out. I saw you had four hours blocked off on your calendar to volunteer this morning?” She pointed to the planner that rested on the counter.
His brow lifted as he answered. “Yeah. I volunteer with the Grave Gulch Children’s Home. It’s a group foster facility for boys. I sponsor a program called Rough Riders, where we bring a group of kids here every week for a dude-ranch event.”
“That sounds like fun. What do you all do?”
“We give them the full cowboy experience. The kids take horseback riding lessons and go on trail rides. They also learn what’s involved in caring for the horses. Throughout the year, we bring in guests to demonstrate rodeo games. Sometimes I’ll take them to fish down at the ponds, which I keep fully stocked so everyone can catch at least one.
“We also do nature walks, and the older boys learn archery and rifle shooting and how to handle each responsibly. During the fall and winter months, there are hayrides and cookouts. We sometimes camp in the woods and sit around the campfire just talking. Many of the boys who participate are about to age out of the foster-care system, so I try to give them some direction and hope about what will happen after they leave. We even make them learn how to square-dance!”
Soledad chuckled. “T
hat’s very cool. I’m impressed.”
“I’ve enjoyed it. It’s been very rewarding.”
“Maybe I can whip up some cookies for them?”
Palmer laughed. “I don’t know if I want to share your cookies with anyone else.”
Soledad tossed him a lopsided smirk. “You need to be nice. They’re kids. I’ll save my special cookies just for you,” she teased.
“I may collect on that,” he said.
“I hope you do,” Soledad answered, her voice dropping an octave. She bit down against her bottom lip as they eyed each other intently. She finally gave in, her shoulders rising in a lighthearted shrug. “Anyway, I thought, since I kept you up all night, that the least I could do was make you a good breakfast. So, why don’t you go take your shower? By the time you get back, I should have the food ready.”
“Thank you,” Palmer said. “That’s very sweet of you.” He turned and headed back to his room.
Soledad called his name, stepping from behind the counter to stand at the end of the hallway.
“Yes?”
“I really do hope you’ll take me up on that cookie,” she said, blessing him with another bright smile. “I really, really do.”
As he walked away, he could feel her staring at his backside, her gaze throwing heat deep into the core of his body.
* * *
Either one of two things had happened, Soledad thought. If Palmer was not interested in what she had offered, then she had just made a complete fool of herself. Or her suggestive quip had opened the door for them to move their relationship in a whole other direction. Despite it feeling like the former, she was willing to bank on the latter. When she’d said what she’d said, there was nothing for her to lose and everything to gain.
She had spent most of the night thinking about him. Playing their conversations over in her head. Remembering the gentleness of his touch. How he was with Lyra. How he made her laugh. He was magical. There was something special about him that had her wishing for more. She knew that he might not be her forever, but why shouldn’t she take advantage of the right now? Soledad firmly believed in fate and knew there was a reason Palmer had come into her life in the way he had. That he knew her, and had been interested, was a bonus—and much for her to consider. She wanted it to be love, but just being honest about that was taking her completely out of her comfort zone.
She refocused on the popovers she was prepping for breakfast. Blending flour, milk, eggs and butter until she had a batter the consistency of heavy cream. She half filled the cups of the pan and popped it in a hot oven.
By the time Palmer returned, crisp bacon, scrambled eggs and hot popovers with raspberry butter were waiting for him.
She gasped as he walked toward her. He was wearing denim. Dark denim jeans with a matching denim shirt, steel-toed boots and a wide-brimmed, brown-leather Stetson. He looked delicious and she suddenly wanted him more than she wanted the meal she’d fixed.
“Wow!” she exclaimed. “You clean up nice.”
“As opposed to how I look any other time?”
“As in, you look yummy,” she said teasingly. “If I were a jealous woman, I’d wonder who you were all dressed up for.”
“I’m glad you’re not a jealous woman,” he said, “because you’d be sorely disappointed. She’s almost eighty. Her name is Grandma Butler and she’s one of the house mothers at the foster home.”
Laughter rang sweetly.
“Seriously, though,” Soledad said, as she passed him a plate of food. “You look very nice.”
“Thank you.”
“Can you come back just before lunch to pick up the cookies? I’m going to start baking right after Lyra wakes up and I get her settled.”
He nodded. “You really don’t need to do that, but I’m sure the boys will appreciate the gesture.”
“It’s not like I have a lot to do. I just want to keep busy, so I don’t drive myself crazy thinking about everything.”
“Does that include me?” Palmer asked. He avoided her eyes as he took a bite of his popover.
“I like thinking about you,” Soledad said softly.
He cut an eye in her direction and gave her a slight nod. “I like thinking about you, too. And I think about you all the time.”
“Is this weird?” Soledad queried. “You and me? I know we joke a lot, but...” She let her words trail off.
“It’s not necessarily normal. Whatever normal is,” he said, making air quotes with his fingers.
“I just don’t want our unusual circumstances to blind us to what our reality is.”
“I agree. All jokes aside, I want whatever happens between us to be about what feels right to us both. And I want it to be for the right reasons.” He stole a quick glance at his wristwatch. “I hate to cut our conversation short, but I have to run. Can we talk more later?”
“Of course.” Soledad nodded. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.”
“Thank you for breakfast. Those popovers were good.” He rose from his seat, moving to the sink with his plate. “I’ll be back to check on you. And I’ll set the house alarm when I leave. In case you need it, my gun is in the nightstand.” He paused. “I guess I should ask if you know how to use a gun.”
Soledad gave him a smile. “Since I was twelve. Our father made sure Dominique and I were comfortable with a wide range of weapons. I can wield a mean bow and arrow if I need to.”
“I’ll have to see that for myself one day,” he responded, duly impressed.
He continued. “Melissa’s got a patrol car positioned at all the main gates, and one of them will do a drive-by every hour. If you need anything, you just call me. I’ll still be right here on the property, and I can be back in seconds.”
“We’ll be fine. Jack will keep an eye out for us.”
“Jack will save Lyra. It’s the rest of us who might be in trouble!”
Soledad laughed as Palmer sauntered toward the door. There was a moment of hesitation as he stood with his hand on the doorknob, seeming to fall into thought. She took a step forward as he turned around, their gazes connecting across the room. She felt her pulse begin to race, her heart beating rapidly.
Then Palmer hurried to where she stood and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering for only a moment as his hand cupped her face. His touch was heated, and she felt her breath catch deep in her chest. Without another word, he hurried back to the door and made his exit.
* * *
When Palmer pulled into the pasture, his lips were still tingling from that kiss. Her skin had been warm and soft as silk, and he only regretted that there hadn’t been time to see if one kiss could have become two. He couldn’t help but wonder what Soledad was thinking about the brazenness of the act. He only wished he had time to reflect back on the moment for a little longer, but the bus from the children’s home was already there.
The boys had exited the vehicle and were milling around in the field, waiting for something to happen. There were twenty of them, ranging in age from ten to seventeen. Most had visited before and were visibly excited to see what would come this visit. The newbies tried to appear indifferent, and Palmer knew that was their way of protecting themselves from disappointment if the day didn’t pan out the way they hoped.
Noé hurried to his side as he parked his truck. The man’s enthusiasm was corporeal, bubbling up like water in a fountain. Most of the men who worked for Palmer looked forward to helping out during the Rough Rider events. They all felt good about giving back to the community and the kids who simply needed a kind hand to support and nurture them.
“¡Buenos días, jefe!”
“Good morning, Noé. Sorry I’m late.”
“Is everything well, jefe?” Concern blanketed the farmhand’s face, seeping like mist from his eyes. “Are there problems?”
Palmer nodded. “Everything’s fine,
” he said, a little white lie slipping past his lips. Because everything wasn’t fine. In fact, everything was far from fine as he thought about Soledad, wishing he was back at the house with her. He missed her. Missed her laughter and the snarky comments that always gave him pause. He’d kissed her, and truth be told, all he could think about was sweeping her up into his arms, laying her across his bed and ravaging her with pleasure. He thought about the places his hands would lead and his mouth would follow. Fantasizing about her and him together suddenly felt like an obsession he couldn’t control, and Palmer hated not being in control. He shook the thoughts from his head and turned his attention back to his friend. “I apologize for being late.”
“You are never late. And you don’t miss any days. We thought you might be sick when we did not see you yesterday.”
“I just had a ton of paperwork to finish,” he said, the little white lie catching in his throat. He coughed into his elbow and blamed it on his allergies. “Excuse me,” he said. “The pollen is high today.”
“¡Salud!” Noé said.
“Thank you.”
“Most of the boys have been here before. We will have our regular four groups today.”
“That works. I’ll take the older boys who already have riding experience to the stable. They’re predicting record-high heat today, so it might be a good idea to take the younger boys to the pond. Let them fish and play in the water. We’ll have lunch in the old barn on the west side of the ranch.”
“Not the one closest to the house?” Noé questioned.
“No. I’m going to move all of our activities to the other barn permanently. I’ve arranged to have the space renovated. We’ll add classrooms and recreational space specifically for our volunteer programs. They’ll start the work in the next few weeks, and it should be finished before the summer is over.”
Rescued by the Colton Cowboy Page 14