Her Cowboy Hero

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THERE WAS A shiny red pickup in front of the ranch house when Colin returned from town. When he’d left, Annette’s car had been there. This must be someone different. He took the steps two at a time, glad Hannah had company. Maybe he could return the truck keys and get to work on the porch without further conversation. Even though she’d affirmed her understanding that he was sticking around only for this one quick repair job, did he really trust that she wouldn’t try to coax him into staying?

More to the point, did he trust himself to resist? Home cooking like hers and the sibling-free solitude of the bunkhouse were appealing. If she didn’t have a kid—or those arresting hazel eyes—he would have considered staying until his brother’s wedding.

Before he had a chance to knock against the door frame, voices carried through the screen.

“—your sense? You can’t just bring strange men home!”

“I told you to keep your voice down,” Hannah retorted, her own voice only marginally softer. “And it’s my ranch. I make the decisions. I think it’s time for you to go, Gideon.”

“I haven’t finished,” the man argued.

Not bothering to waste time knocking, Colin let himself inside, even as he called himself a fool. For all he knew, “Gideon” was a relative or a boyfriend and Hannah might resent a third-party interloper witnessing the argument. But Colin had a problem with the man’s refusal to leave.

“Hannah?” He wheeled around the corner, distantly recognizing that it had been a long damn time since he’d felt protective of anyone but Justin or Arden.

His would-be boss was between the kitchen counter near the fridge and a beefy guy standing close enough that Colin had the urge to yank him back by his collar.

“You’re back.” Hannah’s face went from tense to one of those dimpled smiles faster than a hummingbird could beat its wings. She raised an arm, pushing Gideon out of her way with the heel of her hand and coming to take the truck keys from Colin. “This is my neighbor, Gideon Loomis. He was just leaving.”

The man’s blond eyebrows shot toward the brim of his gray hat. “Actually, I—”

“Mommy?”

All three adults turned to see Evan in the wide entryway, his hair sticking up in wayward tufts, a child-size green blanket clutched in his hand.

Gideon gave the kid a hearty smile. “Oops—we wake you, little guy?”

Evan scowled.

“How about I make it up to you with a piece of cake?” Gideon offered.

“I don’t think so.” Hannah crossed the kitchen to scoop the boy up in a hug. “He had some after lunch. No more sweets until after dinner. And only then if you eat some vegetables,” she told her son.

Evan’s wrinkled nose and unenthusiastic grunt nearly tugged a sympathetic smile from Colin. He himself was a meat-and-potatoes man. Natalie had always cajoled him to set a good example by eating more green stuff.

“If Danny doesn’t see you eating food like broccoli or lima beans, he’ll form a preconceived notion that they taste bad.”

“That’s not a notion—that’s scientific fact.”

Colin blinked, startled by the memory of teasing his wife. He was normally more vigilant about stifling those recollections. Dwelling on what he’d lost made it harder to move forward. I need air.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to back the truck up to the garage and start unloading lumber. So...I’ll be outside if you need me.” The words were ostensibly for Hannah, but his gaze swung to Gideon. If Hannah asked her neighbor to leave again, Colin would be close enough to offer his assistance in escorting the man from the premises.

A few minutes later, as Colin stood on the porch double-checking some measurements, the front door opened. Hannah walked Gideon outside. She looked calmer, but her smile wasn’t genuine. Her hazel eyes were flat, and no dimples showed.

Shaking his head, Colin rejected the involuntary sense of familiarity. He’d known Hannah for less than twenty-four hours. Who was he to assume he could read her?

“Please tell your mom I said thanks for the order,” Hannah was saying. “And she’s always welcome to call or email me. I hate for anyone to waste their time with an unnecessary trip.”

There was a pause as Gideon digested her pointed words, and though Colin kept his eyes on what he was doing, he could feel the man’s hostile gaze prickling the back of his neck like sunburn. “Wasn’t any trouble. You’ve only been in Bingham Pass a few months, but we’re neighborly around here. You’ll come to realize there are a lot of benefits to that.”

In Colin’s experience, there were also benefits to being left the hell alone.

All Hannah said was, “Careful going down the stairs.” She waited on the porch as Gideon climbed into his truck, expelling a frustrated breath as he pulled away from the house. “I swear, that man...”

When she didn’t finish the thought, Colin turned toward her. She stood with her hands on her hips and her jaw tight.

“First my boss back in Colorado Springs didn’t want to take no for an answer, and now Gideon with his macho I-know-best act. What is it about me that draws these yahoos? It’s because I’m short, isn’t it? Makes me look like an easy target.”

His gaze slid down her body then back to her face, flushed with spirited indignation that made her hazel eyes sparkle like gemstones. “It’s a lot more than your height that attracts men.” What the devil was he thinking, saying that out loud? He’d spoken the truth, but there were too many wrong ways she could take his comment. She might lump him in with the inappropriate men she’d already been criticizing. Or, worse, she could take it as flirtation.

Colin didn’t flirt. He left that to Justin, the glib charmer who’d set Cielo Peak dating records before asking Elisabeth to marry him.

Hannah looked momentarily startled by his words, but then nodded. “You’re right, of course. Gideon’s attracted to my ranch. I think his family looks at this property as the opportunity to expand their outfit. But I’ve got my own plans, which don’t include the Loomises.”

Right, her idea to remake the ranch as a B and B. In theory, he could picture her as the proprietor of a bed-and-breakfast. She seemed outgoing enough to make guests feel welcome and, though he’d yet to try her food, there was evidence suggesting her meals would keep tourists happy. But a friendly personality and impressive menu wouldn’t be enough. For starters, she needed front steps that weren’t lawsuits waiting to happen. Also, he was having difficulty imagining that abandoned bunkhouse as a guest cottage people would actually pay money to inhabit.

She grinned suddenly, exposing her dimples. “I can’t tell if you’re a really good listener, or if you’re ignoring me in the hopes that I’ll go away.” She reached for the handle on the screen door. “I’ll leave you alone so you can work, but thank you. Two rescues in two days—you’re quite the hero.”

Her praise slithered unpleasantly over him. The waitress in town had used that same word when talking about Hannah’s late husband, a hero to his country. Colin was nobody’s hero.

“You exaggerate my usefulness,” he objected. “If I hadn’t come along yesterday, you could have changed that tire without me. And as for today...” He recalled how close Gideon had been standing to her, looming. How bad was the man’s temper? Was he the type to lash out at a woman? “Do you think Gideon’s a big enough problem that you needed rescuing?”

“You misunderstand. Today, he’s the one you rescued.” Hannah stepped inside, tossing one last beatific smile over her shoulder. “Another ten minutes with that blowhard crowding me, I might have Tasered his ass.”

Chapter Four

Evan sat at the dinner table, rolling peas around his plate with his fork—as if his mom wouldn’t notice he wasn’t eating them as long as they stayed in motion.

“No peas, no dessert,” Hannah reminded him gently. Rising, she carried her own plate to the sink.

Through the kitchen window, she could see Colin still working even though the sun had faded to an orange-gold memory stretched across the darkening horizon. She’d stepped outside nearly an hour ago to ask if he wanted to join them for dinner. It hadn’t come as a surprise when he’d declined, asking only for a glass of water and for her to turn on the porch lights for more illumination. Granted, she didn’t know him, but he seemed easiest in his own skin when he had a job to perform. So wouldn’t it benefit them both if he stayed? Lord knew there was plenty to do around here.

Behind her, Evan heaved a martyrlike sigh. “Is this enough peas gone, Mommy?”

She grinned at his put-upon expression and the four remaining peas he was refusing to eat on principle. “I suppose so.”

The town librarian had hired Hannah to bake some apple tarts for a fund-raising party, and she’d made extras to keep at home. She warmed one up and served it to Evan with a dollop of vanilla ice cream. Afterward, she settled him on the couch with Scarlett and “Trainket,” his beloved green train blanket. Having been washed hundreds of times, the fleecy material was no longer quite as soft as it had originally been, and the appliqué train was missing a car.

“I have to go down to the stable,” she said, handing him a walkie-talkie so they could stay in communication. Its match was clipped to her belt. Evan enjoyed feeling like a secret agent, and she couldn’t imagine leaving sight of the house without being able to keep in contact. “You can watch cartoons until I get back. Then, bath time.”

The first time she’d gone to the stable without Henry, Kitty or Annette to keep an eye on Evan, she’d been nervous. She didn’t even like working in the garden without him, and that was within easy view of the house. They’d made a game of how he was a pirate and the sofa was his ship, and the carpet was shark-infested waters. But, truthfully, she allowed him so little television time that when she did, he was transfixed.

Before leaving the house, she stopped by the kitchen and sliced off a piece of the roast beef they’d had for dinner. She stuck it between two pieces of homemade bread, along with romaine, tomato and a dab of horseradish. Then she wrapped it in a napkin and stepped onto the porch—where Colin was swearing in a creatively mixed string of words that reminded Hannah of a long-ago foster brother. Their foster mother had tried washing his mouth out a number of times, but then stopped, figuring that much soap wasn’t good for a kid.

“Problem?” Hannah asked.