Her Cowboy Hero (The Colorado Cades)

by Tanya Michaels

  “This is gonna be my house? Look, Mommy!”

  The sketch was impressive, but given the hero worship in Evan’s eyes, Colin could have drawn a lean-to held up with a stick, and Evan would have been delighted. It gave her a twinge to see how much Evan looked up to the man who’d be leaving next month. She found herself thankful Colin wouldn’t be joining them at the pond. Evan might start to get the wrong idea.

  “Would you mind taking Scarlett to the house with you?” she asked Colin. “I don’t want to chance her jumping in the pond. You would think she’d know better when the water’s still so cold, but that didn’t stop her on a sunny day two weeks ago.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “What, bathing a muddy dog isn’t your idea of a good time?”

  With the playful light in his aquamarine eyes and that half grin, he went from being ruggedly attractive to one of the sexiest men she’d ever seen. “I can think of better ways to spend an evening,” she mumbled. Get a grip. He was making a joke about a mud-covered dog, not flirting with you.

  Apparently, Evan wasn’t the only one in danger of wrong ideas.

  * * *

  WORKING INSIDE WAS never going to be as exhilarating as being outside in the fresh air and sunlight, but Colin was proud of his progress while Hannah and Evan fished.

  When Hannah had shown him the upstairs, she’d talked about the work she’d need to do to make the second story inhabitable for guests. There were two pairs of rooms, each sharing a small connecting bathroom. She couldn’t afford to renovate and furnish four bedrooms at once. He’d cleared space for himself and emptied out the adjoining one to give her a fresh canvas to work with. She was hoping to pick the best pieces of furniture from the combined rooms to set up a guest suite. He’d reinforced some slats in a bed frame, fixed a door on an antique wardrobe and was making plans to refinish a cedar chest.

  Still, three pieces of furniture in a room painted the ugliest green he’d ever seen was barely a dent in the work to be done. He didn’t think he had the energy to do much more today. Not the emotional energy, anyway. Arranging furniture was stirring up a lot of memories. He remembered the day he and Natalie had moved into their house. It had taken them hours longer than it should have because they kept stopping to make out in the different rooms.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. What was the point in torturing himself with memories of times he’d never get back? He’d survived the past couple of years by squashing those memories into the farthest recesses of his mind, but now they were refusing to stay buried. They seemed to be plaguing him more with each passing day.

  Impatient and starting to feel suffocated by his own thoughts, he headed out to the barn. Horses were perfect company. They kept you from being lonely, but they didn’t ask questions or expect deep conversation. Repressing the urge to saddle spirited Viper for a breakneck gallop across the property, he instead selected Apples. He and Hannah tried to make sure all four horses stayed in the habit of carrying riders.

  After his ride, he found enough at the stable to keep him busy until after eight. It was full dark outside, the moon obscured by clouds, and Hannah’s house was a blaze of light on the black landscape. The effect should have been welcoming, but it was also uncomfortable, like having the sun shine too brightly in your eyes.

  Scarlett bounded to meet him when he walked through the door, and a freshly scrubbed Evan was close behind. He was wearing green pajamas covered with comical alien faces and his hair was still wet from a bath, the curls just starting to spring up around his shining face.

  “You missed dinner,” Evan said.

  Feeling the truth of that in his empty stomach, Colin went straight for the kitchen. “How was the fishing? Did you catch anything?”

  Looking up from a box of recipe cards, Hannah shook her head. “Only fish we saw today were the minnows I pulled out of the bait trap. Can’t imagine what scared the other ones away. Hmm, what do you think, Evan?”

  The boy giggled at the unsubtle accusation. “Mommy says I hafta be more quiet. I like loud.”

  Behind him, Hannah rolled her eyes affectionately. “Believe me, we know. But it’s bedtime now, so you’ll have to put the loud on hold until tomorrow.”

  All his time playing outside must have really worn him out, because he didn’t even protest. He nodded to Hannah, then unexpectedly threw his thin arms around Colin’s denim-clad legs.

  “Night-night, Mr. Colin.”

  The berry scent of kids’ shampoo and the stifled yawn in Evan’s sleepy voice hit him hard. It took him two tries before he managed, “Night, Super-Ev.”

  In spite of being hungry mere moments ago, Colin made a half-articulate comment about needing to clean up and fled. In the upstairs bathroom, he was guaranteed absolute privacy. And if his cheeks happened to get damp, he could tell himself it was only the spray of the shower.

  * * *

  THE THUNDEROUS GROAN of the upstairs pipes was alarming. Hannah prayed the noise was due to infrequent use and not impending doom. While she knew how to utilize bargain finds to make a place homey and Colin was way better at carpentry than she had any right to expect from a veterinarian-turned-ranch hand, plumbing and electrical work would require paid professionals. On the bright side, horrifying mental images of a flooded second story kept her too preoccupied to envision Colin in the shower. So...there was that.

  But now it was time to focus on baking the desserts Patricia Loomis would be coming to pick up tomorrow. She wanted a trio of tortes for a dinner party, plus a baby shower cake for her niece—technically, several small cakes decorated to look like nursery toys. Hannah stood in the center of her kitchen trying to remember where she’d put the three-dimensional “rubber ducky” pan. She’d purchased it for a special order months ago and hadn’t used it since. Which probably meant it was up high.

  With a sigh, she dragged a chair over to the kitchen counter so that she could begin inspecting the hard-to-see shelf space above the cabinets. But even standing on the chair didn’t give her much of a vantage point. She used the chair to boost herself onto the cabinet itself. There. On the very end, naturally. She’d been able to utilize the extra storage space only with a ladder and Todd Reed’s help. The cabinets ran longer than the counter itself, and the last thing she wanted was to dig the ladder out of the garage at night, so she stretched as—

  Hands clamped around her hips. Just below her hips, actually, more in the vicinity of her butt. Heat flamed through her.

  “What are you doing?” Colin demanded, his tone rough. “Sometimes I don’t think you or Evan have any survival instincts at all.”

  That stung. She smacked at his hands. “And yet we’ve survived the last four years without your help just fine.” She needed to remember that. Colin wasn’t staying, and it would be a mistake to become overly dependent on him.

  “Get down from there.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, but there was something softening the edge in his voice now. Worry? “Please.”

  She allowed him to take her hand and help her down, which briefly brought her into contact with his body. He was wearing a pair of checkered drawstring pants and a heather-gray T-shirt—dressed for bed. There was a sudden melting sensation in her midsection. Seeing him like this was a novel experience. Without his boots and jeans and ever-present hat, it was as though he’d been stripped of his customary armor. This was a more vulnerable, approachable Colin. Touchable. No, he’s not. You need to keep your distance.

  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 a
bout 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.