Her Cowboy Hero (The Colorado Cades) (8 page)

Reaching for a bucket of rollers and brushes, she slid him a curious look. “So you don’t have a laptop? It’s hard to imagine someone without a computer these days.”

“A lot of my stuff is in storage, back in Cielo Peak. I’ve been on, I guess you could say, sabbatical.” He hefted a can of primer. “I can check email and everything on my phone, but I don’t like shopping on the small screen. Damn fingers are too clumsy,” he admitted.

She laughed. “I watched you do detailed work on the porch—you’re not clumsy. Your hands are just really big.” Her gaze dropped as she spoke, and her cheeks flushed with color again.

An answering heat rose within him. He was grateful when the side door opened and Hannah looked away.

Annette stuck her head out. “You two need a hand out there?”

Hannah tried unsuccessfully to muffle a giggle. “Um, no, we’re covered as far as hands go.”

Colin bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Once Annette had disappeared back into the house, Hannah said, “If I didn’t say so already, of course you’re welcome to use the laptop.”

“And you’ll give me your opinion on the gift registry? I don’t understand why people need half that stuff.” He recalled Natalie rolling her eyes when he commented that gravy boats were misnamed; they looked more like genie lamps than any boat he’d ever seen. “You, on the other hand, know your way around a kitchen better than anyone, and you have a flair for domestic details. I can’t believe how much you’ve improved the living room and kitchen in one week.”

Her smile was glowing. “That’s the best thing anyone’s said to me in months. Some days, it feels like such an uphill battle that I...” She shook her head in a visible attempt to dismiss doubts.

Realizing he’d said and done things to contribute to that self-doubt made his stomach turn. “Only way to get uphill is one step at a time,” he told her. Wanting to put the smile back on her face, he teased, “This morning, I had a moment where I caught myself thinking Scarlett was cute. If that mutant mutt can look adorable,
anything
is possible.”

* * *

T
HE
FRESH
PAINT
on the walls and absence of criminally ugly carpet gave Hannah hope. There was more work to do, but at least now the space more closely resembled a potential guest cottage than an abandoned cabin where teens would get murdered in a low-budget horror film. But the fumes were too intense to stand around admiring their work.

She shooed everyone outside to breathe the fresh air. “Thank you, guys, so much for your help this afternoon. And yours, too,” she told her son. While the rest of them were speckled with dabs and splatters of paint, Evan was covered in dirt and multicolored chalk dust. “You helped by being so good.” He’d kept his boyish impatience to a minimum. Hannah could count on one hand the number of times he’d whined that the project was taking “forever and ever.”

“So we can go fishing now?” he demanded.

“Sure.”

Todd sighed. “Not us, unfortunately. I’ve got paperwork I need to get in order for a client meeting tomorrow. But hook a big one for me, okay, buddy?”

“Okay.” Evan nodded confidently, in no doubt whatsoever about his fishing prowess.

Hannah grinned. Sometimes her son’s innate belief in himself was nerve-racking because, in a four-year-old boy, that occasionally translated to thinking he was invincible. But mostly his conviction that things would turn out for the best was charming. Growing up with no dad and having moved away from his friends in their former apartment complex, he could have a very different outlook on life. She hoped she was leading by example, showing him that happy endings were within reach of anyone willing to work for them.

Evan hugged the Reeds goodbye. As they were driving off, he tugged on the hem of Colin’s T-shirt. “Will you come fishing with us, Mr. Colin?”

Colin hesitated. Even if he was simply stalling until he decided how best to say no without hurting Evan’s feelings, she was gratified he hadn’t refused automatically. Colin’s teasing comment earlier made it sound as if Scarlett was beginning to grow on him. Was the same true of her son? That would certainly make it easier for all of them to share a house.

A zing went through her at the thought of sleeping under the same roof as Colin. It wasn’t the first time she’d had a physical reaction today.
Be honest, it didn’t just start today.
What about the cake she’d almost let burn yesterday because she’d become entranced by the sight of Colin riding Viper? And she was starting to have Pavlovian responses to the sight of his weathered cowboy hat.

Between grief, long working hours and the demands of being a single mom, she’d had maybe ten dates since Evan was born—and one of those was counting a man who’d bought her a coffee after he bumped her and spilled her first one. With only one unoccupied table left in a crowded café, they’d sat together and chatted for fifteen minutes. There’d been one man in Colorado Springs whom she’d gone out with three times, but when he kissed her, she’d had no response. It left her feeling flat and empty inside, and she’d wondered if her libido had died with her husband.

The only man she’d gone out with since moving was Gideon. She’d agreed to dinner to learn more about ranching, but he’d spent two straight hours talking about himself. She didn’t learn anything useful, although she did leave the restaurant with keen insight into how he’d won a high school football game and what he looked for in a woman.

Aside from an occasional flutter when a hot guy delivered a great line in a movie, it had been a long time since she’d experienced much sexual interest. Now she was torn between wishing it was anyone but Colin who’d triggered it and simply being grateful she could still feel something. The key was to stick to
feeling,
not acting. As someone who’d been on the receiving end of sexual harassment, she knew better than to lust after someone who worked for her. Given Colin’s customary aloofness, he wouldn’t welcome the attention any more than she had. But even if the attraction were mutual—her palms dampened at the thought—she had an impressionable young child in the bedroom across the hall from hers.

She’d become so absorbed in her own prurient daydreams that she nearly jumped when Colin’s deep voice broke the silence.

“Not today,” he told Evan. He sounded almost regretful. “I’ve got some shuffling to do to get settled in my new room at your place. And I need to get started on my supply list for Super-Ev HQ. Which reminds me...” He walked to his motorcycle and unzipped a large black bag, pulling out a sketch pad. A charcoal pencil fell to the concrete. After retrieving it, he tore a page out of the pad and handed it to her son. “What do you think?”

“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.

* * *

W
ORKING
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.

* * *

T
HE
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.