The Colorado Fosters

Closing his eyes, he rested his head against his seat and exhaled a deep breath, tried to decide his next step. He could stop in at other businesses, as he’d originally planned, but he didn’t feel all that optimistic at the moment. Better to wait until he’d regrouped. Monday, maybe.

Until then, he’d put in some physical labor around his property. Spend the day outside, in the sun, working his muscles until they ached. Yeah. That should do the trick. Of course, if he didn’t start earning more cash than his job at the hardware store gave him, his progress would come to a screeching halt. Not yet, though. He had a little extra left to work with, and plenty he could do with the materials he’d already purchased. Besides, however long it took, it took.

There wasn’t any hurry. So long as he could move forward, he didn’t rightly care how slow that motion was. He opened his eyes and shoved the key into the ignition, started the engine. Home. Work. When the day ended, he’d have put himself back to rights.

And he’d quit thinking about Haley Foster, her nonsensical offer to help and the way her almost-but-not-quite green eyes had stared into his as if she knew him. Shouldn’t be that difficult. She was, after all, just a woman. Not much more than a girl, really. And even if her offer had somehow been up front and honest, he’d meant what he said: he preferred to tend to his own business. Especially when the business in question meant so much.

The Demkos were an aberration in a world of folks who were more concerned for themselves than anyone else. No reason to believe Haley Foster was also an aberration.

With a muffled curse, he shifted into Drive and pulled onto the road. Too much to hope for, maybe, but that didn’t stop him from doing just that. The sensation was uncomfortable and threatening and dammit, he didn’t like it one bit.

Reaching over, he switched on the radio and raised the volume loud enough to block out his thoughts, a maneuver that typically proved successful. Not today, and by the time he arrived home, he’d swept straight past uncomfortable into spitting mad and raring for a fight.

Well, he’d work that out, too.

And he would’ve, no doubt. But not thirty seconds after exiting his truck, a sky-blue compact car pulled in behind him, and the woman at the wheel was none other than Miss Haley Foster herself. She’d followed him home? Who did that?

Forget gumption. The woman was insane, and had zero sense of self-preservation. Hell, as far she knew, he was an ax murderer. Why would she put herself at risk?

He raked his fingers through his hair, silently counted to ten to rein in his irritation, his concern for her that also made no sense. Whatever she was up to, it stopped now. Had to.

Otherwise, he might go and do something stupid. He might just let that hope take root. Or … he might start believing that the rules of the world—his world—had somehow changed. That, he knew, would be a false belief, and when everything righted itself again—which it absolutely would—he’d be worse off.

He couldn’t go there. Wouldn’t let himself go there. Drawing in a deep breath, he marched forward. One way or another, this stopped now.

Perhaps if she hadn’t grown up with three older brothers, Haley would’ve been fooled by Gavin’s nod of greeting and his easy, almost loose gait as he approached. Thanks to Reid, Dylan and Cole, however, she recognized when barely restrained anger darkened a man’s gaze.

So, okay. Chasing after him probably hadn’t been her smartest move. Better, less intense, if she’d used the phone number on the flyer she’d snagged. Given him the chance to get to know her a little before barging into his life uninvited. But she hadn’t been thinking. She’d reacted.

She was here now, though, and she intended to have her say. Then, if he asked—or by the looks of him, ordered—her to leave, she would. Probably. No, she would. Absolutely.

Inhaling a fortifying breath, she unbuckled her seat belt and stepped from the car with her smile in place. Adrenaline pummeled through her, every bit as potent as if she’d downed an entire bottle of caffeine pills with an extra-large cola, and her heart knocked against her breastbone in a too-fast beat. Out of nerves, she told herself. Out of the belief that this—and the man himself—was important, and that she couldn’t screw this up.

He came toward her, his expression serious, his eyes shadowed. Stopped in front of her and appraised her, gave his head that same slow shake she’d seen earlier. “Haley,” he said, his voice gruff and low. “This is … unexpected. Why are you here?”

The way he stood and stared, waiting quietly, raised her nerves another notch. Too bad she hadn’t considered exactly how to go about this, exactly how to explain her instinctual need to follow him. Instead, she grabbed on to the first words that popped into her head, lame as they were, and said, “You ran out of the Beanery so fast, I didn’t have the chance to thank you.”

He blinked. “Thank me?”

“For the tea. And I wanted to thank you. So, um, thanks!”

Creases lined his forehead and his jaw did that clenching, unclenching thing again, and she knew—just knew—he was still working hard to keep his anger at bay. “Are you in some type of trouble that I should know about?”

“Nope. No trouble.”

“There isn’t a crazed boyfriend hot on your heels you need protecting from?”

“Nope,” she repeated, weirdly pleased by this question. She might have taken the opportunity to flirt—just a little—but a chunk of long, loose hair fell into her face. She brushed it aside. “Don’t have any boyfriend at the moment, let alone a crazed one.”

Disbelief coated his expression, and that pleased her, too.

“Your car isn’t making funny noises that have you concerned?” he asked in an even, almost rigid manner. “You’re not ill or injured or in need of any medical attention whatsoever?”

“Car is running great…. Well, maybe not great, but certainly nothing out of the ordinary, and I’m feeling terrific. Really … terrific. I do, however, appreciate your concern.” She widened her smile, batted her eyelashes. “Greatly, even. Very sweet of you to ask.”

“That’s me all right, sweet.” He pushed out a short breath. “And I’m guessing you’re not here to borrow a cup of sugar or to sell me something, correct?”

“Correct! I’m all set in the sugar department. And, I don’t know. Are you looking to buy anything?” Uh-oh. Based on the scowl currently decorating the mountain man’s face, she might have gone a little too far to the flippant side of the equation. “Listen, I really just wanted—”

“Glad you’re all set. Hope you enjoyed the drive here, and take care on the drive back.” With those tersely uttered words, he pivoted and strode in the direction of his truck, his gait no longer easy or loose. Just … bam, he’d heard enough and was done with the conversation.

Unaccustomed to people walking away from her, Haley sucked in a surprised breath. What should she do? Chase after him again, or get in her car and drive away, as he wanted her to? She could almost hear every one of her brothers’ voices chiming in that she should leave. Now. Before she did something she might regret.

Only problem was she didn’t want to leave. If anything, the very fact that Gavin had asked after her well-being when faced with such a peculiar situation spoke volumes. Showed her the strength of his character, she supposed. Maybe even proved her instincts were right all along, which really, she hadn’t doubted. Much.

He was mad. No doubt about it. Frustrated, too, probably. But he’d tempered both emotions and chose, instead, to ascertain that she didn’t require any assistance. Yes, she liked him.

The tight ball of heat returned in her lower stomach, just as intense, just as real as before, shocking her with its strength. Okay, liked was an understatement. A sigh born from her own frustration slipped from her lips. Nope, she wasn’t leaving. Couldn’t, really.

There had to be a way to get through to him.

“Wait!” she hollered. He didn’t pause, didn’t look over his shoulder, just kept on walking in the opposite direction. Feeling very much like a lost puppy—or maybe even a stalker, at least from his perspective—she set off at a half jog on wobbly, Jell-O-filled legs. “Please? I only want a few minutes to talk. I’ll leave then. Promise.”

Whether it was due to the please or the promise, she didn’t know, but he paused and turned, and waited for her to catch up. When she had, he glowered, and the storm that had been brewing reached its momentum and rolled in.

“Are you insane or just naive?” he asked, his temper finally leaking into his voice. “Because following a man home—a man you don’t know, I might add—isn’t very smart. Or safe. Or logical. Or anything you should be doing.”

“Logical, no. I’ll give you that one,” she said calmly, even though he had a point, even though her heart was now pumping so hard, she could hear the beat of it inside her head. “But I’m neither insane nor naive, and I’m able to decide what I should and should not do all on my own. In case you were wondering.”

“You don’t know me,” he repeated, pacing in sort of a half circle in front of her, his boots stirring up mini dust clouds with each step. “Where is your sense of self-preservation? Of caution? Look around you, Haley. Look!”

She didn’t, just kept her focus on him. She’d seen enough driving in, and she knew exactly what he was getting at. Other than the long, skinny, dirt driveway, they were pretty much surrounded by trees. The closest neighbor was several miles down the road, and from where they stood, Gavin’s house—as it sat back a ways, behind more trees—wasn’t all the way visible.

In all likelihood, she could scream at the top of her lungs and not a soul would hear. But she wasn’t afraid, of the remoteness or of Gavin. Angry or not, she was certain he wouldn’t hurt her. As certain as she was of her height, her name, the color of the sky and the scent of freshly baked bread. The knowledge sat inside her with the same solidity, and she didn’t question it.

“My sense of self-preservation is alive and well, thank you very much,” she said with all the dignity she could muster. “And I happen to have very good instincts about people. I wouldn’t have come here if I’d had any worries in that regard. I’m not an idiot.”

“Didn’t say you were an idiot,” he conceded. “But there’s more than one kind of smart, and I’m guessing that no one knows where you are, that you followed a strange man home to a fairly secluded area. I’m guessing that you didn’t give a thought to letting even one person in on where you were headed, what you were doing. Would those be accurate assumptions?”

“Um, yes. But—”

“That’s a problem,” he inserted, halting his pacing. “I’m stronger than you, bigger than you, and dammit, Haley, a different man, a dangerous man, could and would take advantage of such a situation.” He cursed again, rather colorfully. “So I find it hard to believe that you have even an ounce of self-preservation in your entire body, otherwise you would not be here now.”

This exchange, all of it, felt more familiar than it should. Somehow, that flared her own temper into being. Narrowing her eyes, she said, “Yep, you are bigger and stronger, but I know how to protect myself. And yep, you live in a secluded area. Lots of folks around here live in seclusion. There’s nothing new about that, but Gavin, you are not a different man. You are you, and—” she lifted her chin, met his gaze with hers “—you are not a dangerous man.”

“You do not know that!”

“I do know that!” And she did, whether she could put the whys for that into words or not. Maybe she was an idiot, after all. Why hadn’t she just phoned him? Everything was spiraling out of control, and she could only blame herself and her stupid heart-on-sleeve tendencies.

“You can’t know that,” he fired back.

“But I do! Sure, following you home was overkill, so I totally get your side on this.” She stopped and gave herself a mental shake. “I’m sorry for that, really. It was an impulse, I guess. I just wanted to talk to you, and I saw you in your truck, and … here I am.”

“I see.” He stared at her, she stared right back, and somewhere in the few seconds that passed, some of the tension dissipated and a faint glimmer of humor teased into his expression, lightening the storm in his gaze. And her heart melted all over again. “Do you typically have a difficult time controlling your impulses?” he asked. “Or is this something new?”

“You’re the first man I’ve ever followed home,” she admitted. “So that’s new. But I’ve been known to drive to the store at two in the morning for chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream when the impulse strikes, and I’ve perhaps made a few rash decisions here and there.”

Such as when she got the bug to drive to Vegas after a late-night study session in college. But she hadn’t eloped, even when the opportunity presented itself, even though she’d considered it. That was an impulse she’d controlled just fine.

“Look, Haley, you don’t know me—”

“You’ve made that clear. Abundantly.” She almost said she wanted to get to know him. Almost asked him to please, please allow her the gift of getting to know him, but she didn’t.

“Even so, the fact remains that if I were a different type of a man, this could have ended badly,” he said in a slow, purposeful beat. “A lot of people in this world aren’t nice. And I hate the thought of anything bad—” Here, he broke off, as if the words he’d planned on saying got stuck in his throat. “You need to be more careful.”

“Message received.” Another staring competition ensued, and the moment also seemed familiar, almost intimate. When she couldn’t keep the words inside any longer, she said, “I like you, Gavin. I can’t explain why, so don’t ask. But I like you, okay? Sue me.”

His head reeled back, but he didn’t drop his focus. “You’re maddening. Absolutely maddening,” he said under his breath. “And while I can’t say for sure, it seems to me you might want to work on controlling your impulsive nature, before you find yourself in trouble.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little trouble. The right type of trouble, anyway.”

Out of nowhere, the idle thought came to her that if Gavin had been the one proposing in Vegas, she might not have been able to resist. Something else to think about. Later.

“No such thing as the right sort of trouble,” he said.

“I beg to differ.” Determined to eke more light from the darkness, she winked and donned a bright smile. “But I admit you’ve made several valid points, and I’ll take your advice under consideration the next time I have the impulse to trail someone.”

“Uh-huh. Why don’t I believe you?”

“Now you sound like my brothers.” And God, did he ever. Not necessarily a bad thing. Her brothers were rocks, solid and dependable. Of course, she didn’t view Gavin in a brotherly way, but she felt no need to share that information with him.

“Your brothers sound wise,” Gavin said after a slight pause. “And like they love you.”

“They do, and I love them. But let’s keep that wise part between us, shall we?”

Something close to a grin appeared, and oh, how she yearned to see him with a real smile. With nothing but happiness in his eyes, instead of shadows. That also would be a gift.

“You’re something else, Haley Foster,” he said after a long, assessing moment. “What the something is, I haven’t quite decided, but … something.”

“You mentioned that. Earlier.” Then, she’d thought he meant it as a compliment. Now, she wasn’t so sure. “Ten minutes, Gavin. Can you give me that? Please?”

He sighed. “You aren’t going to leave otherwise, are you?”

“No.” She lifted her chin another stubborn inch. “Not until you hear me out. Ten minutes,” she wheedled. “Tops.”

“Does anyone ever say no to you?”

“Yes. Fairly often, in fact.” Usually, though, she found ways to sidestep those noes until they became yeses. Or simply pretended she hadn’t heard the no to begin with. “Feel free to say no. Really. Doesn’t mean I’ll hear it, though.”

“I figured as much,” he mumbled in resignation. “Go on, then. Say whatever it is you came here to say before I change my mind.”

Mentally, she pumped her fist in the air and did the victory dance. In reality, she reminded herself to take it slow. Careful. She started with, “I surprised you when I offered to help at the Beanery. Sometimes, I get ahead of myself, and I didn’t handle that all that well.”

“Agreed” was all he said. But the corners of his mouth curved upward the slightest amount, and that … Well, that was a start, and she’d take it. “Go on.”

“I would like to explain myself more fully, and then, once I have, I’m hoping you’ll reconsider. I am serious about this, and I already have a few ideas, and I think—”

“Nope,” he said instantly, quietly. “Don’t think I’ll be reconsidering, though I appreciate your … perseverance.”

“Really, Gavin? You won’t hear me out?”

“No reason to.” Another barely there shake of his head. “There isn’t anything you could say on this topic that would make a difference.”

“You don’t know that.” When he started to object, she rushed forward, saying, “You might think so, but you don’t. And while I can’t guarantee my family will agree to a … collaboration, I guess that’s the word, I think it’s a possibility worth looking into.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree.” Calm, collected. But the hint of a grin was gone.

“Okay, look,” she said hurriedly, before he ordered her to leave again. “Even if they don’t want to move forward, I can still help. With the flyers and other advertising, your website, and I can certainly help get the word out. I’m pretty good at that stuff.”

“Which again brings up the question—why?” Before she could reply, he held up a hand. “That question doesn’t require an answer, and I shouldn’t have asked it. I’ve heard enough. Some things are just the way they are. Some people do better on their own. Simple as that.”

“Nothing is that simple.”

“This is. Seriously, Haley, I think it’s … generous to be so giving, but relying on others isn’t my thing. Period. Never has been, never will be, and I don’t see that changing.”

“Ever?”

“Ever,” he confirmed, without doubt or hesitation.

Well, hell. His conviction was clear and absolute. She couldn’t deny it, even though she wished she could. There was nothing else to do or say, nothing at all that would change his mind, to even convince him to listen to her. And strangely, the realization hurt.

Strangely, she had the sense of almost achieving something of great worth, and the loss of that indefinable something weighed heavily inside, in the air, in every breath she took.

Yeah, it hurt. More than she understood.

“I feel sorry for you,” she said softly. “Because I’m a good person, and I believe you’re a good person, and yeah, I definitely have impulse-control issues. But, Gavin, here I am, offering to help. Offering you … friendship, and you’re too proud or stubborn or something else, something I can’t identify, to even try. And I think that’s sad.”

He didn’t respond. Didn’t look as if he were even breathing, as if he even cared that she’d put herself out there. Well, why would he? Why should he? As he’d said over and over and over, she didn’t know him. And, well, he didn’t know her. In his head, she was just some crazy chick who’d had the audacity to follow him home. Really, she couldn’t blame him.

It was her turn to walk away, and so she did. The sensation of that incredible loss stayed with her as she trekked back to her car. In this scenario, she knew she’d misfired. There were so many other ways she could have gone about this. Better ways. More logical ways.

Hindsight, she decided, was the devil.

She tried to tell herself that she was being silly and over-emotional. Maybe even believed both to a certain degree. But when she tried to convince herself that, perhaps, Gavin’s refusal was for the best, and she’d see the wisdom of his rejection down the road someday, she couldn’t buy into the mind-set. All of this just felt wrong.

Almost heartbreakingly so.

At her car, she stopped for a second to regain her balance. Birds were singing, tree branches swayed and the cool bite of the wind touched her cheeks. All of which served to settle her mind and ease her whipped-up emotions. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d tried. Which, really, was about all anyone could do. There wasn’t any reason to kick herself over it.

Not for very long, at any rate.

She’d stop at the store for a pint of ice cream, go home, find another movie to watch or a book to read. Settle in and relax. By nightfall, she’d have put her encounter with Gavin into the proper, noncrazy perspective and she would return to normal. Hopefully, the nonitchy, nonrestless state of normal. If not, she’d go back to waiting for summer and twelve-hour workdays.

A sensible plan, for sure. She reached for the car door, her intent to follow through, when a hand lightly gripped her shoulder. Her muscles froze and her heart picked up speed. Heat flared and wove its way through her limbs, raising goose bumps on her skin and warming her from the inside out, inch by delicious inch. He’d followed her? Wow … just wow.

“Why do you want to be my friend?” Gavin asked slowly, hesitantly, from behind her. “What—what propelled you to make such a decision when you have no idea who I am?”

She didn’t turn, didn’t move, didn’t even take in air. “I don’t know, not fully,” she said, going with honesty. “There’s something about you that calls to me, and I want to know what that something is. I want to get to know you, and I. Well, I think … that is, I believe, that you’re a person very much worth getting to know. If you’ll let me.”

His hand tightened on her shoulder. Not a lot, but enough to know that her words had impacted him on some level. Silence enveloped her, them, for what could have been one second or a million years. Tracking the passage of time became inconsequential.

Then the deep rumble of his voice hit her ears again. “If the offer still stands, I’d like to take you up on it. The friendship part, if not the other.”

Tears, unbidden and totally unexpected, filled Haley’s eyes. This admittance was also important, also held weight and conviction. And she felt every ounce of that importance, that weight and conviction to the tips of her toes. In her heart, as well.

Maybe even in her soul.

“That is an offer that doesn’t have an expiration date,” she said, purposely keeping her tone light and breezy. “So yes, Gavin, the offer very much still stands.”

“Okay, then,” he said. And darn if she didn’t hear surprise and disbelief in those two little words. That was fine. He’d discover soon enough that she didn’t tend to say anything she didn’t mean. “Are you hungry?” he asked, still hesitant, still disbelieving. “I could make us some lunch, if you are. If you’d like to stay for a while.”

“Starving, actually.” One breath in, and then another, and she dropped her keys in her purse. Twisted her body toward the mountain man, looked into his gray-blue eyes, and pieces somewhere deep inside that she hadn’t known were broken became connected, and the world felt … whole. She smiled. “I would love to stay. What’s on the menu?”

“Ah … I guess I don’t know. Let’s go see what I have.”

He reached for her hand, stopped midmotion. Looked at her with uncertainty and something else—yearning, she decided—and a few more broken pieces reconnected. The odd sensation of a great loss disappeared. Yes, this man was important. Vitally so.

For now, she brought her hand to his and squeezed. He nodded, tightened his grip on hers, and together they walked hand in hand toward his house, neither speaking.

Logic be damned. Because she knew, in a way she had never known one other thing in her life thus far, that this connection was what she’d been waiting for. All of her loneliness, itchiness, restlessness came down to this, to one man, to Gavin Daugherty.