situation when probably, deep down, he hadn’t fully come to terms with it yet. She couldn’t imagine how brokenhearted she’d be if she were to lose the farm and the shop. But they weren’t the type of friends who bared all their emotions to each other. At least not yet. Maybe not ever.
“Yay for mobility. Allows us to run away from our matchmaking mamas.” As soon as she said it, she wished she could rewind time a few seconds.
But Cole laughed. “You picked up on Mom’s intent, huh? Sorry about that. She’s got a hankering for grandkids and hasn’t accepted that she’s not going to get them from me.”
His words caused a sadness to settle on Devon. Not that she thought the two of them were going to make babies or anything, but he seemed so certain. His assertion had a finality to it that didn’t invite argument. It seemed a shame not to carry on his family line and those magnificent genes.
“You don’t like kids?”
He shrugged. “They’re fine, but I’m never getting married again. And if I had kids, I’d want to be around for them, not part of a broken family. I’d want them to have what I did growing up.”
She envied his fond thoughts of childhood. When she looked back, what overwhelmed her were feelings of inadequacy and trying to find ways to make herself feel better and less alone.
Devon resisted the urge to ask about Amy, what had happened. She didn’t even know his second wife’s name. Maybe Cole was right to steer clear of marriage after that track record, but something about that thought didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t have any real basis other than he seemed to be a nice guy and loved his mom, but Devon thought Cole Davis might make someone a good husband. But the right someone.
Like you?
No, not me.
She’d learned long ago not to expect things that would never come to fruition. Doing so only led to sadness and burning frustration.
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you anti-marriage or just anti-marrying someone your mother picks?”
“The latter. Honestly, I sometimes feel like she’s set up a dating profile for me somewhere and carefully screens all the candidates before attempting to parade me in front of them like a prize cow.”
Cole snort-laughed.
“You laugh, but I’m not exaggerating. At least your mom is sweet about her attempts.”
“Sounds like we could each use someone watching our backs.”
“I like how you think.”
“So you encourage my mom to chill on trying to find me wife number three, and I’ll play fake date when you need to get your mom off your case.”
Devon resisted gulping at the idea of a pretend date with Cole. Would she be able to hide the fact that she really found him attractive? That she wouldn’t mind if the date were real?
“You are so getting the worst end of this deal,” she said.
After Devon left, Cole stayed in the barn to continue working on the horse sculpture. He’d been so busy on the ranch the past few days that he hadn’t found time to come out here. With Devon’s enthusiastic reaction, he found himself energized and picked up an old metal sign and began bending it to cover a part of the horse’s flank.
His thoughts drifted back to Devon. Though she attempted to joke about it, his gut told him that her mother’s treatment of her was no laughing matter. Angela Newberry was the type of woman who was used to getting what she wanted and didn’t react well when she didn’t. He’d had experience with that type and couldn’t say he liked it a whole hell of a lot.
He tried to pull up memories of Devon from high school. She’d been smart, shy, maybe heavier, but he couldn’t remember all the details. It struck him that despite their school’s small size, she’d still managed to be one of the kids you tended to overlook. Despite who her parents were, she hadn’t ruled the school as you’d expect someone in her position to do. He wondered if even then her mother was always harping on her.
She was thinner now, very pretty in a natural way. He found he liked that a lot better than the endless parade of overly made-up fakes who’d put themselves in his path. Not that Devon was doing that. In fact, he and his mother were the ones who’d dragged her out here. He was surprised by how nice it felt to be able to talk with a woman without feeling as though she expected something from him, like a ring on her finger. That Devon seemed to understand how he missed rodeo and appreciated his work made him extra glad he’d gone on instinct helping her with her mom earlier.
“You sound happy.”
He looked up at his mom striding down the middle of the barn. “Huh?”
“You were whistling.”
He was?
He placed his palm against the side of the metal horse. “Because I’m close to finishing this guy.”
“You sure it has nothing to do with our visitor?”
“Devon?”
She lifted a brow. “You see any other visitors out here tonight?”
“Saw a couple of deer up the hill a few minutes ago.”
She huffed out a sigh.
“Don’t sound so put out. We were helping your friend out of a bad situation, nothing more.”
“But she’s a lovely, sweet girl.”
“I’m sure she is, but I’ve told you I’m done.”
“You’re only thirty-three. That’s awfully young to be giving up, isn’t it?”
“Not from my perspective. You keep getting burned, you stop touching the stove.”
“Cole—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Mom, just because you found happiness in marriage doesn’t mean everyone will. And I’m happy,” he said, because he knew that was her chief worry despite her comments about wanting grandchildren. “I’m back home ranching. I’ve found something else I like to do. I get to eat my mom’s home cooking every day. What’s not to like?”
He’d swear he saw his mom deflate a bit, like a balloon slowly losing air. He felt bad about it, but he had to stand firm or she wouldn’t quit her futile quest to find his one true love.
“Just keep an open mind, okay?”
He didn’t respond, knowing it would be a lie if he agreed.
“How about you answer a question for me?” he said. “What’s really up with you and Angela Newberry?”
“I don’t like snobs.”
“I know. But there’s more to it.”
