Her Cowboy Hero (The Colorado Cades) (3 page)

At the mention of Evan, Colin’s gaze skittered behind her, as if she’d reminded him that there was a nuclear warhead inside rather than a four-year-old boy.

“Wow. You really don’t like kids, do you?”

He blanched, but didn’t answer.

Admitting defeat, Hannah shook her head sadly. She was stubborn, not delusional. “Thank you for changing my tire yesterday. Safe journeys wherever you’re headed next.”

Trying to keep her weight off the throbbing ankle, she pivoted toward the door. With a sound of strangled frustration, Colin clamped his fingers around her upper arm.

“I don’t know where I’m going next,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I’m replacing those damn steps before I go.” He glanced around the spacious wraparound porch. “This entire thing’s probably a safety hazard that should be reinforced, if not rebuilt.”

Renewed hope surged through her, eclipsing her pain. “I insist on paying for your time as well as the materials.” She kept her voice calm, trying not to betray her joy at this small victory.

“You have tools?”

She nodded. “There’s a small detached garage behind the house. Pretty well stocked, as far as I can tell. I can show you.”

He slanted her an assessing glance. “You should get inside, off that ankle. If you’ve got a tape measure handy, I’ll start taking measurements.”

“Sure. I’ll send Annette out with it. She can take you to the garage.” Hannah made a mental note to instruct her friend not to interrogate Colin or overwhelm him with boisterous conversation. Otherwise, he might follow his original impulse and bolt. As it stood, she had at least a couple of days, a window of opportunity to plead her case. But with more subtlety this time.

He narrowed his eyes. “Just this one repair job. That’s not the same as signing on with you, Mrs. Shaw.”

She nodded innocently.
We’ll see about that.

Chapter Three

In the parking lot of a Bingham Pass diner, Colin sat inside a truck older than he was, as disoriented as if an Arabian Thoroughbred had kicked him in the skull.

Earlier that morning, he’d been ready to jump on his motorcycle and put Hannah Shaw, her energetic son and her ill-fated ranch all behind him. Yet he’d spent several hours purchasing lumber and paint and getting a new tire for her misbegotten truck. Since he’d never actually gotten around to eating breakfast—and because he was in no hurry to return to the Silver Linings—he’d stayed in town for lunch.

Bingham Pass, like his hometown of Cielo Peak, was rife with local gossip. As soon as Colin had mentioned the Silver Linings Ranch, the waitress had sighed sadly and remarked that Hannah’s husband, a marine, had been killed overseas.

I was taught self-defense by a marine, and I’m a lot tougher than I look.

In hindsight, Colin acknowledged that his worry and anger at seeing Hannah fall through that bottom step had been disproportional to her minor injury. She seemed irrepressible. A mild sprain wouldn’t keep her down for long. But how could he walk away, knowing a young woman or her kid might be hurt when he could have prevented it?

He couldn’t leave with a clear conscience until he replaced the boards. Paradoxically, he still couldn’t bring himself to return to the ranch yet—hence the sitting in a parked truck. He needed the few extra moments to brace himself for whatever surprise came at him next.

Ever since spotting Hannah through the rain, he’d felt off-kilter, unbalanced by her identity, her affable hellhound, the discovery that she had a little boy. None of it was what he’d expected. He should phone the so-called buddy who’d given him this lead. Colin had a few choice words for the man who’d led him to believe the “frail Widow Shaw” was a little old lady.

He powered up the cell phone he usually kept turned off. If asked, he would claim he left it off to make the charge last, but, truthfully, he was dodging his sister. A few weeks ago, Arden’s husband had undergone major surgery in order to donate one of his kidneys to his biological father. As a concerned older brother, Colin had dutifully answered every one of her calls, wanting to be there for her in case anything had gone wrong.

But she’d abused the privilege. She’d acted as if she were calling with post-op updates on Garrett, but then she inevitably worked the conversation around to how Garrett’s family could use the extra help on the Double F Ranch while he recuperated. Wouldn’t Colin love the opportunity to use his skills on behalf of relatives and spend some time with his infant niece?

Colin knew his sister worried about him, that Arden wanted to help him heal. How could he explain that it hurt to be around her, the glowing new mother with a husband who adored her? Their brother, Justin, wasn’t much better. He was engaged and disgustingly in love.

As soon as his phone finished booting up, it buzzed with the notification that he had 6 Missed Calls from Arden Frost. That was a lot even for her.

Fighting a stab of uneasiness, he dialed his brother Justin’s number. If something were wrong, Justin would know. But if her calls were simply more attempts to recruit him to the Double F so she could keep an eye on him, then he was dodging a bullet by not phoning her directly.

It took a few rings before Justin answered. “Hey, old man. Long time, no hear. To what do I owe the honor?”

His brother’s glib tone sent an unexpected stab of nostalgia through Colin. He hadn’t seen either of his siblings since Christmas, which suddenly seemed like a long time considering how close they’d once been. Although there’d been an elderly aunt’s name on the guardianship papers, Colin had all but raised his siblings after their parents’ deaths.

He cleared his throat. “I, ah, wondered if you could tell me what our sister’s been up to lately. She filled my voice-mail box. I figured it would be quicker to check in with you than listen to all of the messages. You know Arden. She’s not brief.”

Justin laughed. “Preaching to the choir. I realize it’s a wuss move, but now that I’m engaged, I keep trying to make Elisabeth take her calls so I don’t have to. Those two can talk wedding plans for
hours.
”

Colin squeezed his eyes closed. Weddings, babies, new beginnings. It was difficult not to feel as if Arden and Justin were both just starting out in life while his had abruptly derailed. “So do you know why she’s been calling me?”

Justin’s heavy pause was worrisome. He usually had a quip for every occasion. “You should really ask her.”

Colin’s heart skipped a beat. Decades ago, they’d lost their mom to cancer and their father to heart failure. Had Arden inherited any medical problems? “Justin, you tell me right now, is she okay?”

“Relax, bro, it’s
good
news.” He sighed. “You didn’t hear this from me, but she and Garrett are expecting.”

“Again? Those two are like rabbits.”

“Dude, it’s only their second child.”

“Yeah, but the first one’s not even a year old! Shouldn’t they be pacing themselves?”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not think about our sister’s sex life.” Justin changed the subject. “How are things going with the McCoys?” His carefully neutral tone made it clear he’d heard something. Justin was no better at lying now than he had been as a kid.

“What do you know?”

“Only some very bizarre gossip about you and Delia McCoy. The ranching community talks. Garrett heard that you and Mrs. McCoy were caught in bed together, and he told Arden, who called me screeching. She didn’t know whether to be relieved you’re interested in a woman romantically or appalled that you’d be part of an adulterous affair.”

Colin smacked his forehead. This was why he always left his phone off.

“Calm yourselves. Delia arranged to be caught in my bed, but I was nowhere near it. And I’m not interested in any woman.” A pair of mesmerizing hazel eyes flashed through his mind, but no way in hell was he sharing that with his brother. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll call Arden when I have more time to chat. I’ll pretend to be surprised when she tells me about the baby.”

“Gotta go where?” Justin pressed. “Are you still working at the McCoy place? Rumor has it you got canned, or is that part an exaggeration, too?”

Colin rolled his eyes heavenward, choosing his words carefully. If he admitted he was between jobs, he’d seem churlish and petty for not going home to visit his family. But all the Cades were forthright in nature. He was no more skilled at dishonesty than his brother. “I found a temporary gig on a spread in Bingham Pass.” Very temporary.

“Glad you landed on your feet. Word of advice?” Justin asked, mischief lacing his voice. “Be careful not to make any goo-goo eyes at the boss’s wife.”

“I’m hanging up on you now. Also, the boss isn’t married.”

“Well, there’s a relief.”

The polar opposite, actually. Colin couldn’t imagine anything less comfortable than working for an attractive single mom. Which was why, the second paint started drying on a newly secured porch, he was getting the hell out of Dodge.

* * *

W
HEN
S
CARLETT
WORKED
herself into a frenzy by the front door, Hannah experienced an irrational burst of relief.
He’s back.
It wasn’t that she’d honestly believed Colin would steal her truck and never return. But he’d seemed so reluctant to be here that it would be good to see him with her own eyes, to have proof he was serious about staying for another day or two.

She got up from the kitchen table, where she’d been paying bills on her laptop, and went to quiet the dog. As usual, indulgent “Aunt Annette” had let Evan stay up too late, and Hannah had sent her increasingly fussy son to take a nap. He’d been asleep only a few minutes.

But when Hannah saw who was on the other side of the screen door, instead of shushing Scarlett, she wanted to snarl right along with her.

“Afternoon, Hannah.” Gideon Loomis tipped his gray felt cowboy hat, giving her a smile that would have been so much more handsome without the permanent smugness etched into his features.

Go away.
“Gideon.” It was tricky to avoid someone in Bingham Pass, downright impossible when that someone owned the neighboring ranch, but why was he standing on her front porch? After their lone dinner date, she’d tried to make it clear she wasn’t interested in seeing him again. She’d stopped shy of blunt rudeness, because only an idiot would antagonize the Loomis family. “This is a surprise.”

“A pleasant one, I hope.” His self-assured tone made it clear he’d drawn his own erroneous conclusion. “Mama sent me over with an order for another one of her social events.”

His mother, Patricia Loomis, was Hannah’s biggest customer. There were decent restaurants in town that could cater, but no one in the area could bake or decorate desserts like Hannah. While she was thankful for Patricia’s business, it also held her hostage. She longed for the freedom to tell Gideon he was an arrogant ass who was no doubt rendering himself infertile with his obnoxiously tight jeans.

Tugging on Scarlett’s collar, she attempted to make the agitated dog sit. Scarlett had never liked Gideon, which proved the people at the shelter had known what they were talking about when they’d told Hannah the mutt was smart. She opened the door, grudgingly inviting her neighbor inside.

He inhaled deeply. “Always smells so delicious here. I just realized, I worked right through lunch. Don’t suppose I could trouble you for a slice of cake and some coffee?” He was already making his way to the kitchen.

She ground her teeth together. “I don’t have any coffee brewed.” Since there was half a cake sitting in a clear domed container on the counter, she saw no polite way to refuse him that. She got a clean plate from the dishwasher and sliced a much smaller piece than she would have offered Annette. “We have to keep our voices down. Evan is sleeping. I was actually thinking about stealing the opportunity for a quick nap myself,” she fibbed.

He ignored the hint that he should hurry on his way. “Sorry I missed the little guy. Be sure to tell him hi for me.”

Evan didn’t like Gideon any more than the dog did. For starters, the fiercely independent four-year-old, who couldn’t wait for kindergarten, hated the “little guy” nickname. He also disliked how Gideon chucked him on the chin as if they were in some cheesy made-for-TV movie. Who did that in real life? One of Hannah’s objections to the man was how he always seemed to be performing for an invisible audience.

She also objected to his barely concealed lust for her ranch.

Before she’d moved to Bingham Pass, she’d had ideas—and a budget—for guest-friendly investments. An outdoor hot tub, extra beds, more horses. But the six-bedroom ranch had fallen into disrepair since she’d seen it last, and she quickly realized she needed to prioritize roof improvements, furniture, updated plumbing and possibly even new wiring. Most of the outlets were only two-prong instead of the now-standard three. Alarmed by how inadequate her budget was, she’d let the Loomis family talk her into selling a strip of land that adjoined their property.

She’d regretted the hasty decision afterward, and not just because she’d realized they lowballed her on price. The Silver Linings Ranch was Michael’s legacy to their son. She would not sell it off piecemeal like a stolen car stripped for parts. Gideon and his family weren’t getting their hands on another acre of her land.

Aware of how easily her anger could grow—of the negative emotions that lurked like an undertow to consume her—she forced a smile. It was strained, but Gideon didn’t seem to mind. He grinned back, leaning against the island to eat instead of going to the table as she’d hoped.

She found an excuse to move away from him, stepping toward the refrigerator. “Can I get you some iced tea? Maybe a glass of milk to wash down the chocolate?”

“Tea’s fine.” He took a bite of cake, and unmistakable bliss lit his brown eyes. “Damn, that’s good. It’s a crying shame you have to expend so much energy into taking care of the horses, cows and goats.”

She didn’t have goats. She was the proud owner of horses, cows and one attack donkey.

“If you had a husband to worry about the livestock for you,” he continued, “think of all the extra time you could spend puttering in the kitchen and developing your recipes.”

She straightened abruptly from the fridge shelf, skewering him with a glare. “Yeah, careless of Michael to get killed in action and screw up my
puttering
schedule.”

“All I meant was—a woman like you? Deserves a man who can take care of her.”

She wanted to rail that not only was she capable of taking care of herself, she’d been doing a splendid job of taking care of Evan for the past four years. Still...being a good mom and a hard worker didn’t automatically translate to being able to maintain one hundred and eighty acres alone.
Not alone, exactly.
She had a four-year-old always looking for ways to “help.” She also had Henry, who’d worked this property for decades and refused to acknowledge limitations set by age or reality, and Colorado’s most unusual ranch dog.

Okay, she needed a man, but not in the romantic sense. Particularly if her options were limited to Gideon Loomis.

His expression earnest, he set down the plate and came toward her. “At the very least, let me talk to my folks about buying your cows from you. The herd would be one less thing for you to manage.”

The “herd” was fewer than two dozen heifers, a bull and the resulting calves. Her predecessor, Michael’s great-uncle, hadn’t used a formal breeding program. He kept the bull in with the heifers, sometimes separating out the younger cows, and let nature take its course. A vet was called in as necessary, but the cattle were actually the least of her problems—with the exception of hauling hay. Hay was a never-ending chore.

“Isn’t that sweet of you,” she bit out, “offering to shoulder my burdens? No doubt for some sort of grateful, discounted rate.”

His voice rose. “Are you accusing me of trying to cheat you? If you were a man...” He stopped, running a hand over his reddened face. His tone changed, slick with his attempt at charm. “But
you
are all woman.”