Rodeo Sheriff

“They were my sister’s kids.”

Honey gasped. Were.

Grief rolled from Cole in dark waves.

After staring at Honey with wide eyes for unrelieved moments, the girl closed her eyes, rested her head on Cole’s shoulder and stuck her tiny thumb into her mouth.

Honey’s heart went out to her.

Help, Cole mouthed. One word. So much said.

She started to rush forward, but he stiffened, resisting her sympathy.

Okay. As always with Cole, she got mixed messages. He would help her out at the bar on the weekends, but outside of that, hands off.

You got it, Cole. Message received.

And yet here he was in her empty bar with a pair of children.

Okay. Today he needed her, but no physical displays of sympathy. Maybe he was too close to the edge. Given her experience with her mother’s and Daniel’s deaths, she understood.

“What can I do?” she asked briskly.

“The kids will need someone to take care of them. I have to get organized. I—Maybe I have to get them... I don’t know. What? A nanny?”

Ordinarily, Cole would know that kind of thing, but shock had a firm hold on him. “A nanny, yes,” she confirmed. “What do you need from me?”

“Can you take care of the children while I interview people?”

“Today? Now? That’s so soon. You just brought them to town.”

He didn’t respond, but his hard jaw flexed.

Honey went on, “Can you take time off work to get them settled in? If you give them over to a nanny too soon, won’t that be hard on them?”

He shrugged helplessly, this normally rock-solid guy. “I’m taking this week off, but I need to get as much as possible settled right away.”

Maybe a gradual transition was a good idea, kind of acclimating the children to the new nanny before Cole left them with her full-time.

“Okay.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m in over my head.” A massive admission from a man most often in control. “I can’t do this alone.”

“I’ll help, of course, but I don’t understand. Why come to the bar? Why come to me?”

“You’re good with kids,” he said. “You love them and they love you.”

Yes, true. She was crazy about kids. No secret there. Everyone in the surrounding Montana countryside knew that. Children gathered around wherever Honey went, drawn like bees to...well, honey.

“Can I do the interviews here?” he asked.

“Cole, this is a bar. I know I’m closed today and tomorrow, but still. It’s hardly an appropriate spot.”

Cole released the boy’s hand. A couple of backpacks fell from his shoulder to the floor. Given half a chance, maybe he would follow suit.

“There’s room here for me to ask questions without anyone hearing.”

Anyone. The children.

“You know my place,” he said. “It’s dim and dismal.”

“Actually, I don’t.” She’d never been in the apartment above the sheriff’s office. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

She glanced around her bar. “While it’s spacious, I would hardly say this is a suitable spot for entertaining children.”

He stared around, but Honey had the sense he wasn’t seeing much. Oh, my lord, he looks so lost.

Right. Let’s get on with it.

“Upstairs.” Brisk in her movements, she locked the front door of the bar. “We’ll use my apartment.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. Yeah. Thanks.”

Cole Payette, as predictable as a finely wound clock, as handsome and rugged as the Rocky Mountains—and as quiet as a monk when in her presence—had reached the end of his rope.

No problem. Honey had enough coping skills for both of them.

“Follow me,” she said.

She led them to the interior stairs at the back of the building.

A sudden tug on a huge hank of her hair had her pulling up short.

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry!” Cole sounded distressed.

Someone hung onto her hair with a strong grip. Honey turned around as far as she could. It was the girl in Cole’s arms. He was trying to loosen her grip, but the child wouldn’t let go.

Cole stared at the child in his arms. “Madeline, let go.”

The child’s deep, hollow gaze broke Honey’s heart.

“What’s going on?” she asked Cole.

“Her mother had long blond hair. I guess... I don’t know... Maybe she sees a bit of her mother in you?”

Tentatively, Honey held out her hands. The child practically jumped into her arms, where she clung like a monkey.