by Helen Lacey
The notion rocked Cole to his core. He’d dated and slept with countless women in the past. Too many to count. Some sophisticated. Some movie-star beautiful. Some a heady mix of both. But none had possessed the hometown, down-to-earth loveliness of the woman standing in front of him. And suddenly, he was all out of resistance.
“I really want to kiss you,” he said baldly.
She didn’t flinch. “That would be crazy.”
“I know,” he said, forcing his hands to stay at his sides. “But I still really want to. I guess that’s the damnable thing about being attracted to someone,” he said and shrugged a little. “It can be as inconvenient as hell.”
She didn’t deny it, but did take a slight step backward. “We agreed to—”
“I’m not going to kiss you, Ash,” he said quietly. “Or anything else. I just want to be straight up about this. That’s who I am. I don’t believe in pretense. And I think you’re the same, right?”
“Right.”
He nodded and then spoke soberly. “We’ve been here twenty-four hours and I can already see a small shift in my daughter’s behavior. So...thank you. I’ll take your lead and do whatever I have to do to make Maisy see that I’m not her enemy. And if that means keeping my hands to myself and taking a whole lot of cold showers, that’s exactly what I’ll do,” he said with emphasis.
Her gaze didn’t waver. She stared at him. Into him. Through him. And he allowed it. Because...he trusted her. There was something elementally honest and authentic about Ash McCune that reached him on a kind of cellular level. The fact he’d had that revelation after a mere twenty-four hours should have waved in front of him like a great red flag, but instead, he experienced a strange, almost unbelievable sense of relief and gratitude. Because it meant Maisy was in good hands. Caring hands. Healing hands.
Cole waited for his cynicism to take hold. He waited for his guard to go up. But it didn’t.
Because his daughter was in good hands.
And so, he realized, was he.
Chapter Four
By the time they returned to the rest of the group, Ash’s nerves were a quivering mess. She’d never experienced the kind of frank, unabashed honesty that she got from Cole. He didn’t whitewash anything. Not the simmering attraction between them. Not the reason why it was unthinkable. It was simply put out there as though it was an undeniable fact.
“Where have you two been hiding?” her mother said and grinned as they moved around different sides of the picnic blanket.
Ash covered her embarrassment with a tight smile. “I was showing Cole where the swimming hole is,” she said and looked toward a scowling Maisy. “In case you or your dad wanted to go for a dip while you’re here.”
“I don’t swim,” Maisy said, looking suspicious and unhappy.
It didn’t help that Nancy was smiling and making their absence into something conspicuous. “Well, if you change your mind, you’ll know where it is. So, let’s get this feast started.”
The kids and Uncle Ted chatted relentlessly for the next hour, much to Ash’s relief. It hid the tension that was simmering on the surface. Between herself and Cole. Between Cole and his daughter. While Nancy was smiling one of her willful little smiles that spoke volumes. Ash loved her mother dearly, but Nancy was a romantic—often a foolish romantic—falling in love too easily and too quickly. Besides her two failed marriages, there were several other relationships that hadn’t worked out for one reason or another, and once the rush of romance wore off, Nancy was inevitably left with a broken heart. Ash had seen it all too often. When it came to her mother, love was always followed by disappointment.
So, her mother’s penchant for falling for the wrong man over and over had made Ash wary of involvement with anyone—particularly after the disastrous way her relationship to Pete had ended. Which should have stopped her from having any kind of silly daydream about the man stretched out barely a few feet from her. Cole lay on his side on the large blanket, rested on one elbow, biceps flexed in a way that was impossible to ignore. It didn’t matter that he was chatting to her son and not looking in her direction—she felt the awareness between them as though it were a living, breathing entity. He’d admitted his attraction to her and she hadn’t denied it.
But...
There were a mountain of buts between them.
She wasn’t the kind of woman who would take part in anything casual. She’d never had a one-night stand. Or a two-night stand. Or even a three-night stand. She didn’t jump from one bed to the next. She’d had three lovers, including Pete Shapiro. She played things safe. She never lost sight of what was important—her son, the ranch, the family she’d clawed together from the rubble of Pete’s departure. Thinking about Cole in that way was plain old foolish.
I know better than to be foolish.
By the time they got home it was after three o’clock. Ash helped her mother clean up the picnic things and by four she was upstairs taking a shower. It was half past the hour when she returned downstairs and found Jaye and Micah in the living room playing a video game, while her mother played cards with Tahlia. She headed to the kitchen, then pulled on her boots by the mudroom door and made her way outside. It was a warm afternoon, a typical late spring day, and it promised to be a long, hot summer. Ash loved summer. She loved the feel of the sun on her face. She loved heading down to the river for a lazy swim. She even loved cruising around in the patrol car when she was on duty and witnessing the landscape, brimming with colors of gold and green against the backdrop of perfect blue sky and in the shadow of the Black Hills. A South Dakota summer was like no other.
She looked up toward the cabins and spotted Cole sitting alone on the porch, his long jean-clad legs stretched out, his feet crossed at the ankles. Ash hesitated, but felt an almost magnetic draw toward him. In jeans and T-shirt, his belly as flat as a washboard and one hand wrapped around a soda can, he made sexy look easy.
Temptation, get thee behind me.
Still, she found herself heading toward the cabin and stalling when she reached the bottom step. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.”
“How’s Maisy doing?”
He inclined his head toward the door. “Ignoring me,” he replied. “So, her usual self.”
“I though you both might like a tour around the ranch.”
He met her gaze and slowly got to his feet. “Be back in a minute.” He took two minutes and returned alone. “She’s reading,” he said and headed down the steps. “Looks like you’re stuck with just me.” He stopped a couple of feet in front of her and smiled a little. “Unless you think we need a chaperone?”
Ash raised her brows. “I don’t think it’s quite come to that.”
Not yet, at least.
“Okay,” he said easily. “Lead the way.”
Ash walked across the yard, pointing to the obvious buildings—the barn, the chicken pen, the goat-and-alpaca enclosure—and then offered a brief history of the town and population.
“And you said that Cedar River used to be two towns?”
She nodded. “Yes, up until last year. But it was better for both towns to unify and pool resources—particularly things like the council offices and police department. Tourism is an important industry here, too. And O’Sullivans hotel in town is one of the best around.”
“You like it here?” he asked as they walked.
“In Cedar River?” She nodded. “Yes. It’s my hometown and all I know. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. Isn’t that how you feel about Phoenix?”
He shrugged. “I like the city. And my friends and family are there. So, yeah...it’s my hometown,” he said and smiled. “But I like other places, too.”
“You’ve traveled a lot?”
“Some,” he replied. “Europe and Asia mostly. And I spent several months in Ireland wh
en I finished high school.”
Ash considered how different her life had been compared to his. The farthest she’d ever traveled was to Denver for a friend’s wedding a few years earlier. Long ago she’d had plans to travel and see the world, but her real life had intruded on those teenage dreams.
She turned and headed for the corral behind the barn, conscious that he was barely a foot away from her. Once they were around the building she whistled and then waited for the familiar clopping of hooves.
“This is Cleo,” she said and pointed to the big paint mare coming toward the fence. “I’ve had her for a few years. She’s an angel. Do you ride?”
“Nope,” he replied and rested his hands on the fence. “Not exactly my kind of horsepower.”
Ash laughed as Cleo swung her head over the fence. “Too bad. There are a couple of other horses we keep for the guests.”
His mouth twisted. “Guests?”
“Sounds better than inmates, right?”
“I guess,” he said and grinned. “So, tell me, how long have you been doing this?”
“Fostering?” She shrugged. “About eight years.”
“And how did you start?”
She patted Cleo’s silky muzzle. “I was on patrol and my partner and I were on what we thought was a domestic-abuse call. Turns out it was a four-year-old boy who’d been abandoned by his drug-addicted father. His mother had died a year earlier. The boy ended up in the hospital and then once he was released there was a mix-up with child services and he had nowhere to go while waiting for his grandmother to come and get him. She was coming from New Mexico and it took a few days. So, I brought him here. We had room and he needed somewhere to go. After that...” She let out a long breath. “There are so many kids who need help. Some just for a night. Some for longer, like Ricky. And then there are children like Micah and Tahlia, waiting for a permanent foster family with the hope of adoption. I guess I wanted to do something real, something that was more than lip service. Fostering felt right.” She turned to face him. “But the truth is, I get a whole lot more from it than I give.”
“And Maisy?”
She shrugged lightly. “That felt right, too. Joel said you needed help.”
“I did,” he said simply. “I do. I just—I just don’t...”
“Don’t know where to start?” she queried, brows raised. “You start here—today. And like I said, don’t expect too much. She’s a child, with all a child’s insecurities and fears. And she’s grieving deeply for her mother. One thing I’ve learned about a child dealing with such profound loss is that there is no magic cure, no words of comfort that can be offered unless they feel safe and can open their heart to trust again. But she will,” Ash offered with a smile. “Once she knows you’re not going anywhere and that she can rely on you, she’ll open up. It just takes time and patience.”
He nodded and took a long breath. “She won’t talk to me about her mom. I’ve tried, but she closes off every time I mention her mother.”
“Because she doesn’t trust you with those memories,” Ash said gently. “It’s not so hard to understand. Don’t push her. And don’t be impatient.”
“Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit.”
Ash chuckled. “I guess we’re never too old to learn new things.”
He rested back against the fence and crossed his arms, highlighting his biceps and wide shoulders. “So, is there anything you need lessons in?”
Warmth spread up her limbs. Could the man be any sexier? She tilted her head to the side a little and regarded him curiously. “Is flirting simply in your DNA?”
“That depends on how successful I am.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have a good batting average.”
He grinned. “Well, let’s just say it’s rapidly deteriorated in the last six months.”
Ash didn’t quite believe him, but laughed softly. “Being a single parent does tend to put the brakes on a social life. Although, I imagine you’d be considered something of a catch at the PTA meetings.”
A half smile curled his lips. “Are you making fun of me now?”
She shrugged. “Maybe a little. But I think your ego can probably take it.”
“What ego?” he said and looked around playfully.
Ash laughed again. It had been a long time since she’d shared any kind of flirtatious banter with a man. Years. Forever. She’d forgotten how it felt. And had become so wrapped up in her job and the ranch and being a mom that she’d spent a decade pretty much ignoring the fact she was a flesh-and-blood woman. But being around Cole made her remember.
And want.
“I thought I might take Maisy into town tomorrow morning,” she said, flipping the subject and her thoughts to a more neutral subject. “If that’s okay with you. I’d like to get to know her a little better.”
“Sure,” he said easily. “I promised Jaye we’d work on your old truck and then said I’d help him make a few changes to his soapbox-cart plans. I know he has his lessons in the morning with your mom, so it will be after that.”
Ash bit down on her bottom lip. “Does he plan on using you as an ally in the hope of getting me to change my mind about entering this year’s race?”
“Maybe,” Cole said and grinned. “He’s a smart kid.”
“With physical limits,” she reminded him.
Cole shrugged one strong shoulder. “He doesn’t think so.”
Ash stilled. “He’s a child. And he doesn’t logically understand what might happen. As his mother, it’s my job to protect him from whatever I believe could put him in harm’s way.”
“I know.”
His quiet agreement annoyed her. Because she knew it wasn’t agreement. He was working her. Making her think. Making her overthink. Damnable irritating man.
“You think I should let him enter the race this year?” she said, eyes flashing.
He pushed himself off the fence. “He’s your son, so it doesn’t matter what I think.”
Ash propped her hands on her hips. “You’re right. You don’t know him and you don’t know what he’s been through. What we’ve all been through.”
“That’s true,” he said, so quietly Ash felt herself sway toward him a little. “But I know what it feels like to be given limits, to be told I would most likely not walk again, that a wheelchair was the best I could hope for. If I’d believed that, if I’d let myself believe that,” he said with emphasis, “I probably wouldn’t be on my feet right now. If you keep telling him that he can’t, one day he might just believe you. Thanks for the tour,” he said and walked off.
Ash stared after him, watching his sexy swagger, mouth agape. The man certainly knew how to stage an exit. She pushed down her building resentment. He didn’t have a right to an opinion. He was on her ranch. Her turf. He needed her advice. Her help. Not the other way around. She wasn’t about to give his words another thought.
Only...
They niggled at her. And made her think. Was she doing the right thing by Jaye? Or was she doing what was best for her own peace of mind and not her son’s happiness?
She gave Cleo another pat on the muzzle and then headed back to the house.
* * *
Cole had a restless night. The small bed was cramped and uncomfortable, and by dawn he’d had enough and planted his feet on the floor. Then he dressed and headed from the room. He made coffee, drank a cup while he stood at the kitchen sink and absently poured a second cup before he headed outside. He remained on the porch for a while, watching the sun rise, feeling the crisp morning air against his skin. Most mornings he went for a jog. He considered going back inside to drag on his sneakers, when something caught his attention from the side of the barn.
Copper hair. And a bright yellow T-shirt.
Ash...
He’d spent most
of the night thinking about her. Then dreaming about her.
She was feeding the chickens and laughing at their antics and the sound of her laughter echoing across the yard had Cole instantly mesmerized. He stood perfectly still, enthralled by the image she evoked, her lovely hair shining in the morning sun, her laughter almost like a melody on the breeze.
He felt foolish thinking it.
But still, the notion lingered. He couldn’t shift the image from his mind. So, he stayed where he was, watching her movements and thinking that they probably didn’t make bigger fools than him.
“I hate this place.”
Maisy’s voice cut through his thoughts. He swiveled around to face his scowling daughter, who was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, expression as dark as thunder. “You’re up early.”
“Too many birds chirping around here to get any sleep. And dogs barking. And goats making weird noises.”
He bit back a grin. She was right. Ranching life was very different from their day-to-day existence and luxury condo in Phoenix. But he wasn’t about to make light of her complaints. He was grateful for any conversation with his daughter at this point. “I’m sure it will take a few days to adjust.”
“I want to go home.”
Cole kept his growing impatience in check. “It’s just a few weeks, Maisy. Can you please try to—”
“Mom would never have made me do this,” she said accusingly. “She’d never force me to be somewhere I didn’t want to be. And making me stay here isn’t going to get me to like you, just so you know.”
She stomped her feet, went back inside and slammed the screen door.
He sighed heavily. Every conversation was a battle. And generally ended badly. He didn’t know what to do.
“Cole?”
He turned to find Ash at the bottom of the steps. “Hi.”
“Good morning,” she said and propped a booted foot on the bottom step. He knew she’d heard his conversation with his daughter and her next words confirmed it. “I know this might not seem like much of a consolation, but angry words are better than no words. At least she’s talking.”