He and Devon were friends, and on the road to being darn good ones based on how easily they’d texted for nearly an hour the night before.
When he opened the door and stepped inside, it wasn’t Devon he saw inside but rather Mandy. She smiled, a little too mischievously for his liking, and lifted a ball of purple yarn.
“Looking for something to do in your spare time?”
He huffed out a single laugh. “I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with that except maybe play with a cat.”
She tossed the yarn into a wooden bin with dozens more of its multicolored cousins. “Devon isn’t in this morning.”
“She okay?”
Mandy tilted her head a bit. “You sound concerned.”
Too concerned? Why did it matter?
“I know she had another run-in with her mom last night.”
Mandy looked surprised. “That was after she went home.”
“We texted a bit.”
“Did you?” Mandy crossed her arms and gave him a look that said she thought there were some juicy details she didn’t know yet but planned to find out.
“Yeah.” He wasn’t going to give her anything else, especially when he was still in the process of convincing himself that sticking with his “no relationships” policy was a good idea.
“Why are you doing this?” Mandy asked.
“What?”
“Pretending to date Devon?”
“You know why.”
Mandy lifted an eyebrow. “Do I?”
He shook his head. “What is with this town? It’s like you’ve all been infected with a matchmaking virus.”
“So you’re not interested in Devon?”
“As a friend.” He braced his hands against his hips. “I don’t like people who bully their children, even if they’re not little kids anymore.”
He must have finally convinced her because she sighed and seemed to deflate a little as he watched.
“Just tell Devon I stopped by, okay?” he said and turned toward the door.
“You may talk to her before I do. I doubt she’s going to come in today. If I know Devon, she’s venting her frustrations by burying herself in work.”
Cole grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind some help,” Mandy said.
He pretended he didn’t hear her as he left, but damn if her parting words didn’t plant themselves in his head. Once again, he started toward home, but at the edge of town he pulled a U-turn and headed toward Devon’s farm.
He might be a fool, but it wouldn’t be the first time.
* * *
WHILE DEVON LOVED her shop, it felt good to stay at the farm and not have to face anyone today. It seemed her mother was becoming more persistent in her efforts to run Devon’s life, not less. If not for her text conversation with Cole the night before, Devon would really be in a funk this morning.
She smiled as she milked one of the goats. Though she knew she shouldn’t have allowed it to go on as long as it had, the texting back and forth had been nice. More than nice. And it had been easier in a way than talking to him face-to-face. Since he couldn’t see her, she didn’t have to hide her expressions or the way she nearly held her breath while waiting for his next response. She’d hated ending the conversation, but she really had been tired. Not to mention she felt as if she were close to falling for him, and that would be the least wise thing she’d ever done.
Still, it had been nice, had come right when she needed it. For that she was thankful.
She finished the last of the milking and picked up the two buckets and headed toward the house. Halfway there, she heard someone pulling into her driveway and looked up.
No. It couldn’t be.
And yet it was. She watched as Cole parked and stepped out of his truck. Devon barely resisted the urge to drop the buckets and retreat back into her barn. What was he doing here? And why did he have to show up when she looked dreadful?
She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, that it shouldn’t because they were just friends, but it did matter. Well, there was nothing she could do about it now, stuck halfway up the hill from the barn to the house.
Cole hurried down the hill toward her. “Let me take those.”
“I’ve got them.” She almost took a step back, but Cole captured the bucket handles. To keep from losing the milk, she let go. “What are you doing here?”
“Saw Mandy and she said you were playing hermit today. I came to see if you needed a hermit buddy.”
“A hermit buddy? Doesn’t that negate the whole hermit thing?”
“Details, details.”
Despite the fact that she had to look a fright and that being near Cole caused her nerves to vibrate, she smiled at his response.
Cole lifted the buckets as if they weighed no more than glasses of milk. “Where do you want these?”
Devon led him toward the house, trying to remember if it was in a big mess. She wasn’t a slob, but she didn’t have much company other than Mandy, either. Once inside the kitchen, she directed him to set the buckets on the countertop.
“So this is what you make your soap out of?”
“It’s one of the main ingredients, yeah.” She opened a drawer and pulled out the freezer bags and set about scooping fresh milk into the bags to freeze for later use.
“You hold the bag and I’ll scoop,” Cole said.
She stopped and turned toward him. “Really, why are you here?”
“I’m avoiding cutting hay.”
Devon didn’t believe him, at least not entirely. She communicated that by crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.
He shrugged and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Not sure. Just felt like maybe you could use the company.”
“I stayed home to be away from people for a day. I didn’t want to inflict my foul mood on anyone else.”
“So I failed in my attempt at cheering you up.”
“No, it’s not that. I appreciate you getting my mind off things, but it’s my mom, you know? It’s not like she’s going away.” Devon braced her hands against the edge of the sink. “I love my mom. I just wished she’d at least try to see things from my perspective and respect that I’m an adult entitled to make my own decisions.”
“Has anyone tried to talk to her on your behalf?”
“Mandy tried, but let’s just say that Mom has never particularly liked Mandy despite the fact that the two of us have been best friends since we were kids.”
“Maybe I—”
Devon shook her head and met Cole’s gaze. “No offense, but Mom wouldn’t listen to you, either.”
“Because I’m not good enough for her, for you.”
A thrill raced through Devon’s body at the idea that he might want to be good enough for her, though she knew he was talking about her mother’s point of view.
Before she could think, she placed her hand atop his. “You’re more than good enough. My mom just wouldn’t approve of anyone she didn’t suggest.”
Her heart shuddered at the way he looked down at her, how his lips parted. Did she imagine him leaning ever so slightly her direction?
In a move of self-preservation before she convinced herself of things that weren’t there, she lifted her hand from his and grabbed one of the freezer bags.
Cole, thankfully, moved wordlessly to scoop the milk into the bags as she held them open. They worked in silence for several minutes. Devon tried to ignore how much easier the task was with Cole helping. She had to figure out how to halt her growing feelings for him without killing their friendship. If she shoved him completely out of her life, he’d figure out why. And she didn’t want him to know how she felt if he didn’t reciprocate. Even if he might feel some smidgen of
attraction, that’s all it would ever be. She’d heard with her own ears the absolute certainty that he would never have a serious relationship again.
“I don’t like how your mom treats you. You don’t deserve it.”
“You barely know me.”
“I know you’re a good person, and you deserve to be happy. Your mom is making you the exact opposite.”
“Cole, it’s not that bad. I’ve got a good life. My farm, my business.” She smiled up at him. “Good friends.”
“Just with one big thorn in your side.”
“If that’s the worst thing I ever have to deal with, then I’ll count myself lucky.” But she couldn’t help but wonder what life might be like if her mother stopped trying to make her decisions for her. If Cole liked her as more than a friend.
Well, neither of those things was going to happen, so she might as well stop allowing them to take up space in her mind and heart.
“Are you avoiding your own mom by being here?” she asked.
“Not today. She might have finally accepted she’s fighting a losing battle.”
“Oh.” Devon grabbed a few of the bags of milk and carried them to the deep freeze in the pantry. “Well, I guess that means you’re not getting anything out of our arrangement anymore. That doesn’t seem fair.”
She turned to find he’d followed her and stood a little too close for her comfort. He lifted his hands to her shoulders, causing her breath to halt in its tracks.
“Forget the deal, okay? From now on, we’re just friends hanging out. Let everyone think what they like.”
“But you kissed me.” Oh, no, had she said that out loud? “I mean, I know it was because my parents were nearby.”
“And I’m sorry that it caused more harm than good.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s fine. If it hadn’t been that, it would have been something else.”
She looked up at him in time to see his jaw tighten, and her heart thumped extra hard at the way he seemed to want to come to her defense.
In the next moment, he removed his hands from her shoulders and took a step back. “What do you say we just do some work and forget all about matchmaking mamas?”
“Sounds like an excellent plan to me.” She knew she should encourage him to leave and see to his own work, but the truth was she didn’t want him to. Tomorrow she’d figure out a way to extricate herself from this mess of her making without letting Cole know why, but today... Today she was going to enjoy being with him and try to teach her mind how to think of him as a good friend and nothing more.
* * *
BY THE TIME afternoon started fading into evening, Cole thought he had a pretty good handle on how to make goat’s-milk soap, more than a passing idea of how wool from sheep ended up as those colorful balls of yarn in Devon’s shop, and a growing amazement at all the things she could and did do to make her life her own.
When she’d invited him to stay for dinner, he insisted she let him cook.
“You’re my guest,” she said. “That wouldn’t be right.”
“You’ve been on your feet all day.”
“So have you.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her toward the living room. “Stop being so stubborn.”
“You’re hijacking my kitchen?”
“Yes, and you’re going to like it.”
“You sound mighty sure of yourself.”
He guided her to a chair and urged her to sit.
“You know we became friends because someone was trying to tell me what to do,” she said as he walked toward the kitchen.
He stopped and turned halfway back toward her. “You’re not supposed to be thinking about your mom.”
She stared back at him and something about her expression changed, something he couldn’t quite name.
“You’re right.”
As he worked on making baked mac and cheese, they talked back and forth about what she’d settled on for her anniversary celebration.
“I’d like to display one of your sculptures outside the shop if you have something that would work,” she said.
He stopped midmotion and looked toward the doorway to the living room. Though he couldn’t even see her, she’d somehow touched him again. His mom believed in his work, but she was his mom. She had to. But from the moment Devon had seen his sculptures, she’d told him how much she liked them, how much talent she thought he had. He hadn’t realized how much he needed someone else to believe he could do something besides ride bulls and keep the ranch from falling into the red, some external validation to combat the doubt he had every time he put flame to metal.
“Cole?”
“I’ll see what I have.”
A few minutes later, he had everything on the table and walked into the living room. He stopped beside Devon’s chair and extended his arm.
“Your meal is ready, madam.”
She stared at him for a moment like he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had, but if so then losing his mind felt pretty good.
Devon shook her head and smiled. “I think maybe you fell off one too many bulls and addled yourself permanently.”
She wrapped her hand around his proffered arm, and he escorted her into the kitchen like...well, like they were on a real date. He didn’t mind that idea as much as he should.
Damn, he shouldn’t be here. Devon was a forever kind of woman, but he couldn’t give her that.
“Something wrong?”
He realized he’d stopped walking. Quick, idiot, think of something. He extended his hand toward the table. “The offerings of Chef Cole.”
She took a couple of steps toward the table, then looked back at him. “Did Mandy tell you I like mac and cheese?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s just something I can actually make. It’s the one good thing that came out of my second marriage, my ex-mother-in-law’s recipe.”
“Well, it’s my favorite food, so bonus friend points go to you.”
They made their way to the table and filled their plates with the mac and cheese as well as steamed broccoli and some olives he found in the fridge. He watched as Devon took her first bite of the main dish.
Devon’s eyes closed and she moaned in a way that had a sudden and unexpected effect on the part of him that was thankfully hidden from her view.
“That’s it, you’ve ousted Mandy from the best friend slot.”
He laughed at that. “You’d regret that. I’d be terrible at chatting about whatever you gals talk about, clothes and makeup and stuff.”
Devon snorted. “Yeah, because I’m obviously such an icon of fashion.”
“You always look nice.”
She glanced down at her clothes then met his gaze. “Yep, I’m ready for the catwalk.”
“I see nothing wrong with how you look.”
“Then you’re blind.”
“You look like a woman who has been doing something she loves all day.”
“Riding in a tornado?”
He tossed a broccoli floret at her. “Cut it out.”
“Hey, don’t waste food.”
As they ate, their conversation flowed so easily from one topic to another that it surprised him. Though it shouldn’t since it had been easy to talk to Devon since that night he and his mom had rescued her from Angela’s clutches.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked as they sat with empty plates and full stomachs.
“Yeah.”
“What happened with your second wife?”
How many times had he wished he could just erase his second marriage? Amy, at least, he could chalk up to youthful ignorance. With Bridget, well, he’d just been an idiot. He considered changing the subject, but it felt like maybe it was time to lance that parti
cular wound to stem the festering.
“I got hurt.”
Devon leaned her forearms on the table. “I don’t understand.”
He thumped the edge of his plate as he tried to figure out where to start. The beginning, he supposed.
“I met Bridget at a rodeo a couple of years after Amy and I got divorced. She’s the cousin of one of the ropers. I’d thought I was good with just playing the field, but the next thing you know, I was popping the question. I thought everything was fine until I got hurt and missed a trip to the National Finals. Turns out she was tired of waiting for me to make the big time and she saw my getting hurt as a further delay of her being able to be the wife of a world champion and everything that goes with that.”
“She cared more about your bank account than your health and well-being?”
The shock in Devon’s voice made him smile despite the bad memories.
“Seems I have a knack for falling for women who care more about what I can give them than me. I wasn’t able to give either of them what they wanted, and so they left.” Two big blows to his ego, not to mention his heart.
“Well, they’re both stupid. I’m sorry that you got hurt, but you’re better off without them.”
He smiled at the passion behind her words. “You’re right, though I gotta say it felt like a kick to the gut both times.”
“Honestly, there are women out there who make me weep for my gender. They’re more interested in status and things than in having a loving, honest relationship.”
He suspected she wasn’t just talking about his exes anymore, but he didn’t mind. The fact that she was so angry on his behalf did funny things to his insides. Devon Newberry might have come from a privileged background, but that wasn’t what made her worth a thousand of Amy or Bridget. She was kind, genuine, hardworking, funny—all the things he liked in a woman.
Nope, he couldn’t be thinking about her that way. But his brain and other parts of his body weren’t getting the message.
COWBOY TAKES A WIFE, THE Page 9