Her Cowboy Hero

She was a persistent woman looking to hire help, and he was a man with ranch experience who needed a job. A match made in heaven! How hard could it possibly be to convince him to stay?

* * *

“GOOD MORNING!”

Colin hesitated on the bottom step of the wraparound porch, momentarily stunned by Hannah’s brilliant smile. And bright yellow peasant blouse. She would be murder on a man with a hangover.

As he’d mulled over the circumstances last night, he’d tried to keep thinking of her as the Widow Shaw, but he couldn’t reconcile that moniker with the woman who’d stepped outside of the two-story house to meet him. She looked as fresh as a spring morning with her feet bare, revealing hot-pink toenails, and her inky hair pulled high in a ponytail. If it hadn’t been for the jeans she wore and the pair of muddy boots sitting on the porch, he would seriously question whether she actually owned this place.

Behind her, on the other side of the screen door, an unseen dog scrabbled against the metal lower half and barked. Hannah shushed the canine over her shoulder, then flashed another sun-bright beam in Colin’s direction. “Don’t worry, Scarlett doesn’t bite. Come on in—breakfast is ready and waiting.”

Even from outside the house, the food smelled too enticing, making his stomach growl in anticipation. He was reminded of the fairy tale he used to read his younger sister. Hansel and Gretel. Hannah’s house might not be made out of candy, but temptation was present just the same.

Then again, she had a job to offer him. It was imperative that Colin stay busy. He needed physically draining, sunup-to-sundown work.

Resigned, he followed her through the front door. “Holy sh—” He broke off, manners belatedly overcoming his shock. “That’s...some dog.”

Hannah knelt down, patting the dog’s head. “Meet Scarlett.”

Yesterday, Colin had thought Hannah’s truck an eyesore. Next to the dog, it was a luxury sedan. He’d seen “patchwork” mutts before with traits from different breeds that looked a little mismatched. Scarlett went beyond mixed-breed. She was FrankenDog. It was as if someone had placed a disproportionately large German shepherd head on a squat body—not an attractive head, either. The dog had a comically pronounced underbite and her ears weren’t parallel. One black ear stood up atop her head, as was common with shepherds, and the other seemed to stick straight out of the side of her skull. What were the legs, basset hound? Her red-and-white coat couldn’t decide whether it was supposed to be curly or straight, and her tail was a brindle-colored whip that didn’t match anything else on her. He assumed her neck bolts were hidden beneath the bright blue collar.

“Scarlett,” he echoed. He would’ve gone with “Hellhound,” although that did imply a creature weighing more than forty pounds.

Hearing her name, the dog whined and smacked him with her wagging tail.

“She likes you. That’s a good sign,” Hannah declared as she stood, leading him through a spacious living room with a stone fireplace. He got a glimpse of a back hallway and a set of stairs, but she led him past that and into the kitchen. “I’m not a superstitious person, but everything about our meeting has been so lucky.”

He kept his response to a vague grunt she could take either way. It was probably best not to argue with a potential employer, but mountainside storms and mutant dogs didn’t strike him as auspicious omens.

“Hope you’re hungry. I love to cook. Before I came here, I was a pastry chef.”

“Big change.”

“True, but I’d been studying ranches for years. Running this place was always the plan. Besides, I couldn’t have stayed at my last job much longer.” She scowled. “My boss—never mind. We should be eating,” she chirped.

He was reluctantly fascinated by her total about-face. It was as though she’d flipped a switch. One moment, she’d clearly been remembering something unpleasant, anger seeping into her tone, then, boom, she was back to beaming like a lottery winner.

Maybe she was schizophrenic.

Aware that he was on the verge of staring, he looked away. In appearance, Hannah’s kitchen wasn’t much fancier than the bunkhouse. Chairs at the oblong table were mismatched, and the countertops bore stains and scratches. Faded wallpaper covered the spaces between appliances but had been scraped off the main wall, which was bare. However, the bounty on the island more than compensated for the modest surroundings. Crisp bacon; eggs scrambled with cheese, peppers and sausage; a bowl of fruit salad; piping-hot coffee; and a cake so moist it looked like the cover photo of some food magazine. His mind darted back to the Hansel and Gretel story and the witch who fattened up her prey.

He slanted Hannah an assessing look. “You got any ulterior motives I should know about?”

“Wh-what? You mean, like the old saw about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach? Because I am not interested in you! Not like that.”

She sounded so vehement that he experienced a jolt of surprise. Maybe he was a few weeks—months?—overdue for a haircut, but he wasn’t repulsive.

“I just wanted to make a good impression,” she said. “I don’t cook like this every morning, of course. Too many chores to be done. Although, we do splurge once a week, for Sunday breakfasts.”

We? So far, he hadn’t seen evidence of another person on this ranch.

Handing him a plate edged in feminine purple flowers, she nodded toward the food. “Dig in while the eggs are still warm. I’d love to discuss your references. Then after breakfast, I can give you a tour—”

She was cut off by Scarlett’s frantic barking. The house rattled as the front door swung open with gale force. Hannah turned, an automatic smile blossoming as a child’s voice hollered, “Mommy!” Then a little boy with a curly mop of hair nearly as dark as Hannah’s skidded around the corner, launching himself at her in an exuberant hug.

Colin’s heart clenched. The same delicious aromas that had been making his mouth water now turned his stomach. Nausea and memories boiled up inside him. Physically, the dark-eyed little boy didn’t bear any resemblance to Danny, but he looked about the same age Danny would have—

“I have to get out of here.” Addressing his words to no one in particular, he dropped his plate on the counter and strode toward the living room.

Colin’s nerves had held steady while working with numerous wild-eyed horses too scared to realize he was trying to help; hell, he’d kept his cool during a stampede. But there were limits to his bravery. He couldn’t be around kids.

He’d never taken a job where young children lived, and the Silver Linings Ranch would be no exception.

* * *

WHAT JUST HAPPENED? Hannah was so stunned by Colin’s announcement that it took her a moment to process his abrupt exit. This wasn’t the first time someone had turned down her job offer, but none of the other candidates had actually bolted. She’d hit a new low in the interview process. “Wait!”

Gently disentangling herself from her son’s sticky hug—was that jam on his fingers?—Hannah sprinted after Colin. And drew up short to avoid smacking into him. He, in turn, had apparently halted to avoid running over a startled Annette.

The blonde’s mouth had fallen open in a perfect O, making her look like a comic strip character. “Um, hi?” Her eyes darted to Hannah. “Sorry, I...forgot you had a breakfast meeting.”

Fat chance. Given the concern Annette had expressed over a stranger spending the night, Hannah wasn’t surprised her friend had come over first thing to check on her. At least Annette hadn’t dragged her husband, Todd, along. No doubt Annette had plenty of questions about why the man who should be sitting comfortably at the table listing his credentials had almost mowed her over.

Hannah stepped forward to make introductions—which just so happened to strategically place her between Colin and the front door. “Colin, meet Annette. She’s here to drop off Evan and pick up some cupcakes. They’re really good, if I do say so myself.” Deep down, she hoped that if she kept talking, he couldn’t leave. He might be gruff, but surely he wasn’t brusque enough to walk out midconversation? “Annette, this is Colin Cade. We were about to eat and discuss Colin’s previous ranch experience.”

“No, we weren’t,” he said firmly. He gave a curt nod in Annette’s direction. “Ma’am.”

Annette raised a pale eyebrow. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

He shook his head, already moving toward the door again. Something in his demeanor suggested he would pick up Hannah and remove her bodily from his path if necessary. “Nothing to interrupt. I was on my way out.” He opened the screen door, letting it clatter shut behind him.

Gesturing toward the kitchen in an all-purpose indication that Annette should help herself to the food and please keep an eye on Evan, Hannah followed. Was it her son’s appearance that had sent Colin fleeing, or had she been too manic in her perky approach? One of her favorite high school teachers had always said that enthusiasm was contagious, but that didn’t seem to be the case with Colin. Maybe she should dial it back a notch.

His much longer legs gave him the advantage. He was already down in the yard, but she wasn’t too proud to jog down the porch steps.

“Wait, Colin, I—” Crack.

The board under her gave way, and Hannah gasped as her foot went through the fissure at a wrong angle. Suddenly, he was at her side, his hands warm on her hips as he lifted her. For a big man, he moved surprisingly fast.

“You’re hurt.” Putting his arms around her, he lifted her vertically so she wouldn’t have to navigate the steps and lowered her onto the porch. Tingles of awareness erupted like goose bumps across her skin. It had been eternities since she’d been that close to a man.

“Twisted my ankle,” she said breathlessly, “but it’s nothing ice and ibuprofen won’t fix.”

He glowered, those blue eyes stormy. “You seem to have some strange ideas about what’s fixable. Your truck’s a pile of scrap metal, and you live in a house that’s rotting out from under you.”

“It is not.” Annoyed, she shoved away from him, not even caring that she had to hobble to do so. “I’ll admit the steps need replacing—all the rain hasn’t helped. Maybe some of the railing is a little loose, too. But I made sure the main house was structurally sound before I moved my son here.”

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.

* * *

WHEN SCARLETT 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.