down the stairs. “You can use the flashlight for your walk to the bunkhouse tonight. Or I could drive you.”
“Walking’s fine,” he said. “It isn’t far to the bunkhouse, and I’m not afraid of the dark.”
She almost made a joke about her son and his various coping mechanisms for braving the dark but stopped herself. Colin hadn’t warmed to Evan. She wished it didn’t bother her—tried to tell herself his aloofness was better than Gideon’s phony “let’s be best pals” demeanor—but she was a mom. She naturally wanted others to see what a great kid Evan was.
“How’s your ankle?” Colin asked as they fell into step in the yard.
“Better. Tender, but—”
“Mommy!” Evan called through the screen a moment before banging the door open. He was wearing his own pair of boots and had his blanket around his shoulders like a superhero cape. “Changed my mind. I wanna visit the horsies, too.”
Repressing a groan, she stole a peek at Colin. He looked as if he’d swallowed rusty nails.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her son no, but the whole reason she’d been comfortable leaving Evan for a short time was because she’d trusted him to watch TV. That obviously wasn’t going to work tonight. Apparently, the combination of horses and a newcomer to their ranch was a lot more mesmerizing than watching Shaggy and Scooby unmask villains.
Colin met her gaze. “Makes no difference to me,” he said stiffly. But, in direct contradiction to his words, he lengthened his stride, putting distance between himself and the Shaws.
“Come on,” she told her son. She pointed at the broken step. “Be careful, though.”
Evan scampered down the stairs with no care for his safety, rushing by Hannah and going straight to Colin. “You’re tall.” Her son’s voice was full of admiration. “You’re like a giant.”
Unsurprisingly, Colin didn’t answer. The silence didn’t deter Evan.
“Did you get tall from eating healthy food? Mommy sings me a song about—”
“Evan!” She intervened before her son reenacted the “Grow Big and Strong” song she’d made up to coax him into eating vegetables. Colin didn’t need to hear it—or see the accompanying dance steps. “Don’t bother Mr. Colin, okay? He’s been working with a noisy saw and hammering nails all afternoon. I’ll bet he’d appreciate some peace and quiet.”
Her son scowled. “Quiet is boring.”
“Don’t argue with your mother.” Colin’s sharp admonishment wasn’t loud, but it startled both Evan and Hannah. She hadn’t expected him to speak. Having him suddenly participate in the conversation was otherworldly, like being riddled by the sphinx.
Evan’s eyes were wide as he craned his head back to regard the “giant.” “Yessir.” Then he miraculously fell silent.
Hannah was impressed. She’d wanted Colin to stick around because of his experience with livestock, but it turned out he wasn’t half-bad with outspoken four-year-olds, either. She caught up with him, turning to give him a smile of thanks. It died on her lips, though, when she got a good look at his profile. Even in the dim light of moonrise, there was no mistaking the pain stamped across his handsome features.
It was an expression that felt familiar, the same kind of agony that had contorted her soul when she’d lost both her husband and, in the same day, her mother-in-law. Ellie Shaw hadn’t been well, and news of Michael’s death had triggered a massive stroke. After years of foster care and praying for home and family, Hannah had lost her only two relatives in one cruel blow. A week later, Hannah had gone into premature labor, barely caring when she was loaded into the ambulance whether she lived or died.
It wasn’t until the next day, when she’d heard Evan’s lusty wail, that she’d realized a piece of Michael still lived on, that not all her family was dead. She had a son who needed her, and she was ashamed of her earlier ambivalence about surviving. For his sake, she’d sworn to find the positives in life, to resist the bleak drag of depression that sucked at her. Evan was the bright spot that motivated her to keep moving forward during the most challenging times.
What motivated Colin Cade? And what had he suffered? She’d never seen such light eyes filled with so much darkness.
* * *
COLIN BREATHED IN the familiar scents of leather and wood, horse and hay. They were soothing, but as ragged as his nerves were after walking to the stable with Hannah and her boy, he would have preferred a slug of whiskey. It was weird how being around kids stirred memories not only of his own lost son, but his father, who’d died when Colin was a teenager. Don’t argue with your mother. How many times had Colin heard that edict from behind the newspaper at the kitchen table, directed either at himself or Justin, who’d been a rambunctious hellion as a kid? When Dad bothered to lower the newspaper before making the pronouncement, you knew you were really on thin ice.
Was it strange to miss his parents after all this time? Colin’s mom had been dead now for more years of his life than she’d been alive. But it was easier to miss them than to allow himself to miss Natalie and Danny. That was a more recent wound, one that hadn’t healed properly. He could almost envision the jagged scar it had left inside him.
After the cover of darkness outside, being beneath the stable’s electric lights made him feel too exposed, as if Hannah would be able to glimpse into his memories. He cleared his throat, shifting focus on the horses that had begun to wander into stalls from the outside paddock.
“Guess they know it’s dinnertime,” he said. “How many horses are there?” There were a total of eight spacious stalls, and the stable was in better shape than either the main house or his current quarters. Whoever had owned the ranch before, decor hadn’t been his or her top priority.
“Four. Mavis here is the oldest,” she said, coming forward to stroke the nose of a sorrel mare. “She’s been on the ranch for seventeen years. I take her out for exercise, but when this place is up and running, I don’t plan to let guests ride her. There’s Tilly and Apples, both Tennessee walkers and good with people. Viper’s the black gelding. He’s a little sneaky, but doesn’t challenge confident riders.”
She showed Colin where the oats and feed buckets were. They hung them over the stall doors and snapped them into place. He noticed that the wood at Viper’s stall had been chewed.
“That may be an indication that he needs more roughage,” he commented. “Might want to give him more hay before he fills up on the oats.”
Evan was suitably quiet and restrained around the horses. Hannah had obviously taught him stable manners. Or he was intimidated by the thousand-pound beasts. He eyed them with a combination of adoration and apprehension.
“We have a donkey, too,” Evan informed Colin. “His name is Ninja.”
Hannah took her son’s hand and gently led him out of the stall where Colin was running a brush over Apples, getting to know the horse and checking her general condition. “I laughed the first time Michael told me donkeys were used to help protect the cattle against predators.” She bit her lip. “Michael was my husband.”
“The marine.” He met her gaze, understanding the relief he saw there. She was glad he already knew, sparing her any awkward explanations.
