alone. Not alone, exactly. She had a four-year-old always looking for ways to “help.” She also had Henry, who’d worked this property for decades and refused to acknowledge limitations set by age or reality, and Colorado’s most unusual ranch dog.
Okay, she needed a man, but not in the romantic sense. Particularly if her options were limited to Gideon Loomis.
His expression earnest, he set down the plate and came toward her. “At the very least, let me talk to my folks about buying your cows from you. The herd would be one less thing for you to manage.”
The “herd” was fewer than two dozen heifers, a bull and the resulting calves. Her predecessor, Michael’s great-uncle, hadn’t used a formal breeding program. He kept the bull in with the heifers, sometimes separating out the younger cows, and let nature take its course. A vet was called in as necessary, but the cattle were actually the least of her problems—with the exception of hauling hay. Hay was a never-ending chore.
“Isn’t that sweet of you,” she bit out, “offering to shoulder my burdens? No doubt for some sort of grateful, discounted rate.”
His voice rose. “Are you accusing me of trying to cheat you? If you were a man...” He stopped, running a hand over his reddened face. His tone changed, slick with his attempt at charm. “But you are all woman.”
“Maybe you’re right, I do need a man.” She jutted her chin up. “Good thing that, as of yesterday, I found one.”
* * *
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
