by Jennie Marts
He nodded toward the hallway. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.”
“So do you live here with your grandmother?”
“My grandmother?” She tilted her head. “I don’t think so. Not unless she’s a ghost. Then I guess, maybe.”
“Oh, sorry. You said you were checking on Agatha, and I saw the…” He looked down to the bag of knitting supplies.
Chloe mimed a dagger to her chest. “Ouch. Agatha is my cat, named after my favorite author, Agatha Christie, and that mess of knitting and too much yarn is mine. And plenty of young—or youngish, in my case—women knit as a hobby.” An embarrassed grin creased her face. “Although talking about my cat and my yarn obsession in the same sentence is not making me feel any younger at the present moment.”
Oh shit. Good going, Colt. Open mouth, insert foot. “It’s not making me feel so great either. If you’ll excuse me while I try to unwedge the size thirteen boot I just stuck into my mouth. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I’m just teasing you. And my grandmother is the one who taught me to knit when I was little. I probably haven’t gotten much better since then, but I love the patterns, the colors, and the process of turning skeins of yarn into something beautiful. I guess I’m kind of old-fashioned.”
Colt shrugged. “Me too. My grandfather taught me to play the harmonica and to whittle, both skills a bit on the antiquated side, but I still enjoy them. And I think knitting is cool. My great-aunt Sassy knits, and she’s one of the coolest chicks I know.”
“I’ve never actually met her, but I’ve seen your great-aunt at a couple of Max’s school functions, and I would have to agree.”
He held up the romance novel and offered her a teasing grin. “Good reading?”
She snatched the book from his hands and pushed it between the cushions of the sofa. “I wouldn’t know. That one belongs to the cat.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Does your cat have a thing for handsome cowboys?”
“We’ll know in a minute. She just waltzed into the room.” Chloe nodded to the black-and-gray tabby meandering its way toward him. The cat jumped to the corner of the sofa next to him and tilted her head up as if assessing him with her cool gaze.
He reached out his hand and let her sniff him before offering her a scratch under the chin. She purred loudly and rubbed her head against his palm.
Chloe shook her head. “Apparently she does.”
“And apparently you just put me in the handsome cowboy category.”
A grin tugged at the corner of her lips, and a surge of heat shot down his spine. Dang, but she had a cute grin.
“How about that warm drink? You want tea or coffee?”
“Tea sounds good. Got any Earl Grey?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for an Earl Grey hot tea kind of guy.”
“I’m quite the man of mystery, you know.” He laughed at her eye roll, then followed her into the kitchen. “Before you start to think I’m too cultured, when I come in from the cold after doing chores, I’ll drink about anything hot that someone hands me in a cup. Really, it’s just my mom’s favorite kind, so it’s the only tea that I know the name of, and I was trying to impress you. But I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”
She grabbed a light-blue kettle from the stove and poured water into it as he studied the rest of the room. The kitchen was big with a long center island. A white farm table with four chairs was tucked into a windowed breakfast nook. The cabinets gleamed a glossy white, and a row of robin’s-egg blue canisters shaped like mason jars lined the soft-gray counters. A KitchenAid mixer in the same shade of blue sat in the corner next to the sink, a chocolate cake mix and tub of frosting next to it. Everything coordinated to the decor of white and the same light blue.
“Nice kitchen.”
“Thanks.” She ran a hand over the countertop. “I love it too. I like to cook, and it just makes me feel happy to be in here. Now.”
“Now?”
“It didn’t always. I lived here with my dad, and this kitchen didn’t always hold the best memories. He died a few years ago and left me this house and a little money. I toyed with the idea of selling the house, but instead I used the money to do a couple of little remodeling projects, including the kitchen, and I’m slowly making it all mine. It’s amazing how a little paint, a lot of Pine-Sol, and some sandpaper can change the look and feel of a place.”
“You did all this yourself?”
“Most of it. I hired out some of the big stuff, but I refinished and painted the cabinets myself and put in the wood flooring. I’m pretty handy with a screw gun.”
“I’m impressed.”
“It’s amazing what you can learn from the internet and watching do-it-yourself videos. And Pinterest.”
It was amazing how much he was starting to really like her.
“I like all the blue stuff.”
“It’s aqua. And it’s one of my favorite colors. I couldn’t believe how much stuff they make in this color. I guess it’s kind of the ‘in’ color right now. Not that I care about that stuff. I just love the shade. It’s a happy color.” She took a box of tea and two matching aqua mugs from the cupboard and set them on the counter.
The kettle whistled, and he watched her as she prepared the cups and poured hot water over the tea bags. He studied her, trying to figure out what was so special about this woman. Her movements were concise and controlled, and she kept things tidy as she worked.
She was average height and average weight, but somehow Colt felt there was really nothing average about Chloe Bishop.
“One Earl Grey for the cultured mysterious cowboy.” She grinned as she handed him the cup, then gave a soft inhale of breath as his fingers brushed hers.
He noticed how close she was now standing. He could feel the heat of her, smell the scent coming off her skin. She smelled like vanilla and honeysuckle and something else flowery. His body leaned closer, almost as if they were connected by a fishing line and he was being reeled in toward her.
She pursed her lips to blow on the hot beverage, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth. She had great lips, kissable lips.
Dude. Step back. He did not need to get involved with this woman—with any woman. And there was no reason to think Chloe was even interested in him. She’d made a point of introducing him to her coworker as her friend, so maybe she was just interested in being friends.
He took a swallow of his drink and regarded her over the top of his cup. “So what’s the deal with you and Huge?”
She choked on the sip of tea she’d just taken. “There’s no deal at all. We just work together.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I guess he’s asked me to go out with him a few times, but I always say no.”
“How come?”
She shrugged. “He’s not really my type.”
“What is your type?” He leaned in, just the slightest, the fishing line drawing him closer.
She gazed up at him, her eyes wide. Her lips parted as she inhaled another soft breath, and he imagined how her mouth would taste, how her body would feel if he pulled her against him and crushed her lips with his.
His eyes were drawn to her slender neck as he watched her swallow.
Before she could answer, an urgent banging sounded at the back door, startling them both. A small face peered into the kitchen through the glass in the top half of the door.
Chloe pulled away, practically dropping her mug on the counter as she hurried to open the door. “Maddie, are you okay? Where’s your coat?”
The girl barreled into the kitchen, her cheeks red and her eyes wide with fear. The bottom half of her pants and her sneakers were soaked from running through the snow. She grabbed Chloe’s hand and pulled her toward the door. “Miss Bishop, come quick! Charlie started the house on fire!”
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Chapter 4
A fire? Chloe’s heart jumped to her throat. “Where are the boys?”
Maddie tried to catch her breath. “In the kitchen,” she gasped. “They were trying to make dinner, but the pan caught on fire.”
“Is the whole kitchen on fire or just the pan?” Colt asked, his voice remarkably calm.
“I don’t know. Just the pan, I think.” Her lip trembled like she was trying not to cry. “I got scared and ran.”
“You did the right thing.” Chloe pointed to the pantry door next to Colt. “I’ve got a fire extinguisher in there.”
“Got it,” he said, opening the door and grabbing the red canister. “Let’s go.”
“Maddie, stay here. We’ll be right back,” she told the girl, then raced out the back door after Colt.
The back door opened at the side of the house in front of the garage, and they ran across the driveway and through the yard. Wet snow seeped through her socks, but Chloe ignored the cold as she raced up the porch steps and threw open the front door. “Charlie! Jake!” she called as she ran toward the orange glow in the kitchen.
The acrid smell of greasy smoke filled the air and burned her eyes as she entered the room. It was bad—but not as bad as she’d feared. A flaming frying pan had been pushed into the sink and one of the curtains around the window had caught fire.
The two boys were trying to swat the flames with towels, but they were only making the situation worse. The fire was starting to spread across the top of the window to the other curtain.
“Stand back,” Colt shouted, already pulling the pin of the extinguisher as he entered the room. He pointed the nozzle at the sink and sprayed the thick foam across the curtains and the pan.
Chloe pulled the boys toward her, holding their backs against her chest as they watched Colt douse the flames.
It took less than a minute, but the foam from the extinguisher made a mess of white powder all over the sink and countertops.
“Everybody okay?” Colt asked, turning toward them, his face flushed with the heat of the blaze.
The boys huddled against Chloe, their eyes downcast and their shoulders slumped forward.
“I’m sorry,” Charlie said, his hands gripping his elbows as he wrapped his arms around himself. “It’s my fault. I was trying to fry some eggs for dinner. I put some bacon grease in the pan and turned it on to heat up, then I started watching this show with Jake, and I forgot about it.”
“We smelled the grease burning and came in to get it, but it just caught fire,” Jake explained, taking a protective step in front of his older brother. “It happened so fast. We tried to throw water on it, but it just got bigger.”
“It usually does. But if anything like this happens again, you never want to put water on a grease fire,” Colt explained. “You either try to smother it by covering it with the lid, if it isn’t too big already, or you throw salt or baking soda on it. Waving a towel at it will just make it worse.”
Charlie nodded. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I know. Fire is scary. I’m a volunteer firefighter so I’ve seen lots of fires, but they still scare the crap out of me. This one wasn’t too bad. We got it out quickly, and the important thing is nobody got hurt.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure you’re both okay? Did either of you get burned?”
Charlie held out his hand. “I think I burned the ends of my fingers a little when I pushed the pan into the sink. I tried to use the towel, but it burned through it.”
Colt turned on the cold water in the sink. “Hold your hand under here, and let me take a look.”
The boy obeyed, and Colt examined Charlie’s fingers as he held them under the water. “No blisters,” he told Chloe as she anxiously peered toward the sink. “Skin’s just a little red. He’ll be okay.”
She let out her breath. This could have been so much worse. She didn’t want to think about what could have happened if Maddie hadn’t come to them for help. “Everything’s okay now. Where’s your mom?” she asked Jake.
“She’s at work.”
Tina tended bar at a dive out by the highway and often kept odd hours. But Charlie and Jake were in junior high, old enough to be left alone and in charge of their sister. Chloe had been babysitting other people’s kids when she was younger than they were now. And Jesse was usually home with them at night.
“What about Jesse?”
“He’s still not home.”
Chloe looked around the sparse kitchen. There wasn’t much on the counters, but other than the powdery foam from the fire extinguisher, they were clean. No dirty dishes in the sink or trash left out. The door to the pantry stood open, and the shelves held some paper plates and a few boxes of macaroni and cheese. Tina did try—she kept the house clean—but she didn’t always remember to go to the grocery store.
“That’s okay. I was thinking of asking you all over for dinner at my place anyway.”
“What about all this?” Charlie asked, his chin tucked down to his chest, his shame-filled expression conveying his misery.
Colt clapped a hand on his shoulder. “When a man makes a mess, he cleans it up. This stuff is nasty, but I’ve got some gloves in my truck. I’ll grab ’em if you can find the vacuum, and we can get this cleaned up pretty quickly.”
Emotion welled in the back of Chloe’s throat. She was sure the fire and the fear for the children’s safety was contributing to it, but watching Colt as he treated the boys as young men and took care of this situation so simply squeezed at her heart.
Her own dad would have pitched a fit, yelling and screaming, then blistered her backside if she’d done anything like this, and she was sure the boys’ dad would have acted the same way if he were still around.
But Colt wasn’t mad at all. He was perfectly calm.
He winked at her and gave her a reassuring nod. “We’ve got this. Why don’t you head back and get warmed up? Your feet have got to be freezing.”
She’d forgotten all about her wet socks, but now a shiver ran through her. “Good idea. I’ll start dinner and check on Maddie. I’m sure she’s got to be worried.”
“No, I’m not,” Maddie said from the doorway of the kitchen. “I’m right here.”
Chloe brought her hand to her throat. “I thought I told you to stay at my house.”
The small girl shrugged. “I needed to see if my brothers were okay.” Her lip trembled, and she ran across the kitchen and flung herself into Charlie’s arms.
“It’s okay, Maddie,” Charlie told her, hugging her against him. “That was smart to get Ms. Bishop. But it’s okay now. We’re just going to clean this up, and it’ll all be fine.”
Chloe’s heart twisted with compassion for the girl. It was obvious these kids were used to taking care of each other.
Another feeling snuck in there—she couldn’t quite place it. Not jealousy exactly, but maybe a little envy at the close relationship the kids had. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if she’d had a sibling or two growing up. If she’d had someone to share the burden and the misery of being raised by Butch Bishop.
She shook off the memories. Butch was gone, and she was a grown woman. He couldn’t hurt her now. She pasted a smile on her face. “Maddie, as long as you’re here, why don’t you quick go find some dry clothes and put on some shoes and fresh socks. I’m making dinner for everyone at my house.”
“Yay,” Madison cheered, obviously putting the trauma of the fire behind her in the anticipation of a hot meal.
“Don’t get too excited,” Chloe said, mentally running through the items in her pantry. “We’re just having grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.”
Jake nodded at the foam-covered pan perched sideways in the sink. “Sounds a heck of a lot better than burnt eggs covered in fire-extinguisher spray.”
He made a valid point.
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br /> * * *
Thirty minutes later, Chloe flipped the last crispy, browned sandwiches on the griddle as Colt and Charlie came through the back door, both of them stamping the snow from their feet.
“Sorry, that took a little longer than we’d planned because we stopped to shovel the driveways and the sidewalks in front of both houses,” Colt said, clapping the boy on the shoulder. “Charlie here’s pretty good with a snow shovel. He was keeping pace with me the whole time.”
Chloe had looked out the window earlier and seen them shoveling, so she was over the initial shock of one more thoughtful thing Colt had done for her today, but she couldn’t help noticing the way Charlie’s shoulders pulled back and he stood a little taller next to the cowboy. “Wow. Great job, guys. I know I really appreciate it, and I’m sure your mom will too.”
Charlie shrugged off the compliment, but a shy smile tugged at his lips. “It was no big deal.”
“We got everything cleaned up in the kitchen as well,” Colt said. “Except for the missing curtain, you’d never know anything happened.”
“Our mom probably won’t even notice,” Jake said from his seat at the kitchen table.
“That’s what I said.” Charlie nodded his head in agreement. “One time this summer, I had a zit the size of a pizza right in the middle of my forehead. It was there for three days, and Mom never said a word. I don’t think she even saw it.”
“I’m sure she noticed. Maybe she was just trying not to hurt your feelings,” Chloe said, making an effort to stick up for Tina.
“Yeah right,” the boy mumbled. “I’m sure that’s it. She’s always worried about not hurting our feelings.”
Chloe didn’t know what to say, so she let the comment go as she glanced up at Colt. “You staying for supper? I made you a couple of sandwiches.” She’d also brought in two extra folding chairs and had already set the table for five.
He grinned. “Well, grilled cheese just happens to be my favorite sandwich, and I don’t think I’ve turned one down yet.” He and Charlie washed their hands, and the boy took a seat at the table next to his brother. “Anything I can do to help?” Colt asked, drying his hands on an aqua-colored towel.