Second Hope Cowboy (6 page)

“I about froze in the shower.” She shot one hand to her shapely hip.

His lustful thoughts came to a screeching halt. “I warned you. It ain’t my fault you chose not to listen.”

“I should have gone down to the pond and took a dip. It’d been warmer,” she snapped. “Can’t the hot water line be fixed?”

“It’s amazing that you’re still giving me shit over something that no longer has anything to do with you. I think you just like riding my ass.” He shook his head and palmed his neck, rubbing the kinks. “I happen to like cold showers.”

“Oh yes, I’ve missed riding your ass because it’s always so much fun talking to a wall. Just keep the water pipes the way they are. You’re right, it has nothing to do with me.”

She strolled across the porch and took a seat in the swing. It cracked and squeaked. She pushed off with her foot and his gaze drifted to her pink toenails. She stiffened her toes then gave them a wiggle. He’d always liked her feet.

His dick took charge and pressed against his zipper. Damn betrayal of his body!

He tasted blood and realized he was biting his tongue.

“I’d forgotten how quiet it is out here.” She lifted her legs up under her bottom. The shorts rode up on her thigh, giving him an eyeful of firm, rounded bottom.

He was in trouble—big trouble.

“Don’t worry.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll get you back to the city before you can spell deer backwards.” The quicker she got going, the better.

She blinked. “Sounds good.”

“Thought you’d like the sound of goodbye,” he growled.

“Tucker, can’t we just let go of the anger?” Her gaze pleaded.

He looked at her, knuckling the rim of his hat. “Sweetheart, there is no ‘we’ in this. You chose your path. These are my emotions and I choose to own them. Just let it be.”

She rolled her finger along the the cup. “I left because I thought it was the right thing to do—”

He got up so fast that the chair hit the wall. He set his cup on the top rail. “You ready?”

She looked down into her still full cup of coffee. “Uh…sure.”

His body was so stiff he couldn’t manage to walk two steps without feeling as if he’d crack like the tin man. Hell, he had to get Hope back on the road and as far away from him as possible. Otherwise, he’d make a fool of himself and ask questions he had no business of knowing, not now. Something he wanted no part of at this point.

****

Hope sat quietly in the passenger’s seat of Tucker’s truck and stared through the window into the countryside. A country song played from the radio—cheating and broken marriages. She’d realized long ago that most couples didn’t cheat on each other. They just stopped communicating.

Last month her sister, Sky, had announced that she was pregnant. She’d broken the news to Hope as if she’d shatter. Sky had sobbed over the phone until Hope had finally soothed her. At one time, Hope wanted a child of her own so much that she couldn’t look at a pregnant woman without feeling like her heart would splinter. But she’d grown from the pain.

“Sky is having a baby,” Hope blurted. She darted a glance across the seat at Tucker who didn’t acknowledge her. “Did you hear?”

“I heard.” His voice was low.

Why was she telling him? She didn’t need comfort or understanding. She was happy for Sky. “She’ll be a great mom. She broke up with her boyfriend and plans to raise her child alone.” Hope pressed her fingertips against the cold window.

“It’s okay if you’re upset, Hope.”

She lifted her chin. “I’m not though. It’s not her fault that she didn’t plan to ever get pregnant and it happened anyway.”

Looking at him, she could see he was on edge by the solid slope of his jaw and the rigid set of his hands on the steering wheel. His hat sat at a tilted angle.

Time could change people and it’d worked on their relationship.

Bitterness crawled up her spine and settled in her nape. She lifted her fingers and scoured the spot. Since she’d driven up the narrow driveway approaching the cabin she’d felt the tension. A massage would help—an image of Tucker rubbing her shoulders bombarded her mind. She rubbed her forehead hoping all naughty thoughts disappeared.

“There’s your car,” Tucker said.

She brought her chin up. Her tiny vehicle looked sad sitting along the side of the road, the nose buried in the ditch.

“You need anything out of it before we pass?”

“No, I can get what I need on the way back.” Turning away, she’d worry about examining the damages later. For now, she could barely manage probing her inner turmoil at being near Tucker.

The rest of the drive was quiet.

Once they reached the tiny store and shop, he pulled into the gravel lot and climbed out, not saying anything to her. Of course he wouldn’t. He was as ready for her to be gone as she was.

Opening her door, she climbed out and the heat beat down on her shoulders. It was a scorching day, in many ways…and she wished she could believe it had nothing to do with Tucker.

He started for the shop and she followed him, but a little boy sitting on the steps of the store caught her attention. He had a tuft of blond curls and a smudge of grease across his cheek. A cat was weaving in and out between his feet and the boy was rubbing its head. He lifted his chin and caught her in his curious gaze.

She waved and he slowly lifted his hand, slightly moving his fingers.

He looked sad sitting on the step all alone. Her heart tugged.

Tucker went into the building, but she crossed the pavement, stopping in front of the boy. “Hi there.”

He looked up at her through thick lashes but didn’t respond.

“I’m Hope.”

“I’m Dalton.” His voice was raspy.

The cat took off chasing a butterfly. “Is that your cat?”

He gave his head a quick shake. The look in his eyes spoke of tragedy. She knew because it wasn’t too long ago that she’d had the same heartbroken expression.

“Do you live around here?”

He nodded.

“Care if I have a seat?” Another nod. She sat but made sure she didn’t crowd him on the cement. Her heart skipped a beat. “It’s a warm day, isn’t it?” She looked closer, realizing the smudge of grease wasn’t grease after all, but a bruise.

The screen door squeaked as it opened. Dalton jumped up from the step.

“Come on, boy. I’m in a hurry.” An elderly man stomped across the lot toward an old beat-up truck.

“Okay, Grandpa.” Dalton followed.

The grandpa didn’t look pleased. His hands were pushed into the front pockets of his ragged and faded denim bibs. He wore a straw hat, pulled low on his face. Hope could only see part of his profile.

Dalton raced toward the truck, jumped into the back and the man climbed behind the steering wheel. As he drove onto the road, the exhaust rattled. A puff of smoke came out of the back. The little boy was still staring at her and she lifted a hand, waving. He didn’t respond.

Hope’s heart jerked. She’d often wondered what her and Tucker’s son would have looked like. Would he have Tucker’s dark hair, smile, and interest in exploring everything?

“What are you doing?”

Tucker’s voice made her jump. She jerked her glance up as he approached. “Do you know that man that just drove off?”

Tucker shrugged. “Jenson Clever. Why?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “He had his grandson Dalton with him.”

“Yeah. I think the kid’s mom passed away a few years ago.”

“The grandfather didn’t seem too happy.”

“That’s because he got denied credit in the store. I heard him and the owner talking.” Tucker turned and started toward his truck.

“Wait. Where are you going? What about my car?” She raced after him and barely caught up before he was opening the driver’s door.

“Hinshaw said he’ll come out and take a look as soon as he finishes his oatmeal. Then he’ll give us an idea of what we’re looking at.” He was already climbing into the seat, agitation carving new lines around his eyes.

With a sigh, she climbed into the passenger seat, turning so that she could see Tucker’s profile. “What do you mean he was denied credit?”

Tucker met her gaze and sighed. “The guy must be having it rough. The owner told him they couldn’t give him anymore credit because he didn’t pay his last tab.”

“What was he buying?” she asked.

Tucker scratched his jaw. “I dunno. Some meat and cheese I think. And a six-pack. I don’t like to lend my ear to rumors, but he’s known for his habits.”

“And did you offer to pay?” she asked.

His gaze narrowed. “No. Why the sudden interest?”

“The little boy. He looked so lonely and sad sitting on the steps. I’m not sure why but he made me feel sad too.”

He squinted. “The kid is quiet from what I understand. Doesn’t talk much. Not since his mom died.” He started the engine and took out of the lot leaving a long trail of dust behind them.

“You should have offered to pay.”

A moan escaped his chest. “Damn, Hope, give it a rest.”

“Give what a rest?” She wasn’t backing down.

“You’re always trying to save the world. Sometimes you have to let people take care of themselves. I know ol’ Jenson enough that if I’d offered to pay he wouldn’t have taken it. He has a thing called pride and I know better than to offer a handout.”

Hope could see his point. “I guess you’d know a few things about pride, huh.”

He darted a glance across the seat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I’m only saying, you have enough for ten men combined. How many times did I say it’s okay to show some vulnerability?” She turned and stared out the window. In the distance she could see Jenson’s truck. They came upon it turning right. The little boy was turned so that she couldn’t see his face. Hope swallowed the constriction in her throat. “You could have even paid the tab.”

She didn’t even look at Tucker but could feel his eyes penetrating her.

Once they were on the narrow road that led to the cabin, they pulled over at her abandoned car. “Let’s give it a try to see if it starts. If we’re in luck you can take off.”

Hope doubted it. When she hit the ditch she could have sworn that she’d seen a puff of steam.

He unlocked the door to her car and climbed in. When he slid into the seat, he hit his head, sending his hat to the ground. He mumbled a curse word, picked up the hat and laid it in his lap. He looked out of place in the small, economical vehicle. His brawny body barely fit behind the steering wheel. “And you like this car, do you?”

“I could travel and use less gas and less of a—”

“Footprint. I already know.” He narrowed his gaze.

“It might be small but it got me where I needed to go just fine,” she huffed.

“I beg to differ.”

“Point taken.” No use in arguing the truth.

The engine made a winding sound but didn’t catch. He slammed his palm against the dash. He hit the button to release the hood and she watched as he stomped around the front. As he lifted the hood, his arms tightened, his muscles moved like vises. He bent over and she watched his tight bottom in the worn Wranglers. He was still as solid as ever. He became more handsome as he aged.

“Come here and look. I think your radiator is busted.”

She swallowed and walked next to him, peering into the maze of metal parts and black hoses. She just as easily could have identified an unknown planet in the universe. “Yeah…if you say so.”

He pointed to a rectangular-shaped metal part in the front. “See.” He uncapped the lid and peered into the hole. “No fluid.”

“Hmm…okay.” She tried to seem interested. After all, this was her mode of getting home.

He looked at her over his shoulder. “I’m speaking alien, aren’t I?”

“Basically, yes. But thank you for sharing.” She shifted in her boots.

He dropped the hood back into place and swiped his hands across the thighs of his jeans. “Either way, it’s going to take a few days. Obviously. And your passenger window will need fixed.”

His expression was blank and she didn’t know whether he was angry or careless that she’d be stuck a little longer. And she wasn’t sure why she didn’t feel more upset. Whatever the radiator did, something to do with fluid, it sounded serious.

“Should you call someone and tell them you won’t be back today?” His brow curved. His hat was still off and his waves of dark hair looked like black silk in the sunlight. His eyes were a clear blue and she swore she could fall into them and lose herself. “Hope?”

“Oh…sorry. The sun is very bright.” She turned. “I guess I should call Barb and tell her she’ll have to start on the fundraiser for the hospital without me.”

“Another fundraiser, huh?”

The accusation in his voice made her stop and turn on a heel. “Are you still jealous of my work?” She planted hands on hips.

He chuckled. “Jealous? Of your work? Like I ever was and as if I have a reason to be now.” He shook his head, dusting off his hands. He went to the front seat, grabbed his hat and slammed the door. “But, you’re always trying to fix someone or something.”