go into culture shock.
Of course, he’d been more than a little surprised to find her living in a modest apartment, instead of something ritzy. Especially since her jewelry and designer clothes suggested that she belonged in a much nicer place—and in a better part of town.
So what was with that?
He supposed it made sense that she would move closer to the university she planned to attend, but wouldn’t she be happier in an upscale neighborhood?
Or had she entered El Jardin that day primed and looking for a man who had money?
Shane didn’t like that particular train of thought. Had he been wrong about her?
Before he could give it any real consideration, Jack’s six-year-old son ran up to him. “Hey, Uncle Shane. Can I come out to your ranch someday and ride a horse? My dad said he’d take me out there, if it’s okay with you.”
Shane didn’t mind having Jack and his family come to Brighton Valley. It might even be fun to show them around and make a day of it. “It’s not my ranch, Evan. But I can arrange a visit and a horseback ride.”
“Cool! I’ll tell my dad you said it was all right. Woohoo!”
With that, the boy dashed off, whooping it up.
Shane liked kids; he really did. But sometimes it was tough being around his nieces and nephews, especially when he couldn’t help thinking that Joey would be four now and running around with them.
Using his fingers, he kneaded the stiff and sore muscles in his neck.
Once he’d attended that first communion and given his niece the charm bracelet he’d bought, he’d be history—and headed back to Brighton Valley.
In the meantime, after folding up the blanket he’d used last night, he went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. There, he found his mom alone, standing over the stove and flipping hotcakes.
“Why are you doing all the work?” he asked as he walked up behind her and placed a kiss on her cheek.
She turned to him and smiled. “Because I enjoy having you kids home. And besides, it’s Sunday morning, remember?”
“How could I forget?” His mom’s special buttermilk pancakes had become a church-day tradition at the Hollister house.
“Pour yourself a cup of coffee,” she said, “then get some hotcakes while they’re fresh and warm.”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. After filling a mug and piling the pancakes on a plate, Shane took a seat at the table, where he added a slab of butter and maple syrup on top of his stack.
“Where is everyone?” he asked.
“John and Karen took Becky to the church. She’s meeting up with a couple of her girlfriends there. Tom and your dad are outside, watching Trevor ride his bike. When you finish eating, you ought to join them.”
Shane didn’t respond either way. But for the past two-and-a-half years he’d been treading along the perimeter of most family gatherings, on the outside looking in. And truthfully it was easier that way.
He glanced at his wristwatch. Church would be starting soon, which was great. He was eager to get this day over with so he could head back to the ranch where he belonged. At least, that’s how he’d been feeling lately.
It was weird, too. Back at the ranch where he worked, Dan and Eva Walker had two sets of twins. And while Shane tried to avoid his nieces and nephews, he didn’t feel the same way about the Walker kids, although he wasn’t sure why.
Maybe because Marcia had always blamed the Hollisters for the trouble in their marriage. And maybe in a way, he’d blamed them, too. Ever since dealing with his wife’s complaints, Shane had stepped out of the family fold. And that was long before Joey had died.
Damn. Maybe Jillian was right. Maybe he was still dragging around some old baggage from his divorce.
He lifted the mug of coffee, savored the aroma of the fresh morning brew, then took a sip.
Making love with Jillian—and having dinner with her again last night—had been refreshing and…healing.
When he was with her, things felt different—better. And he wasn’t just talking about a simple case of attraction. He’d actually been able to shed the shadows that plagued him for hours on end.
But the only way he could imagine hooking up with Jillian was if he moved back to Houston and took up his old life.
However, Jillian didn’t seem to be the kind of woman who’d be interested in dating a cop—even if he wanted to go back to work for the HPD. And at this point, he really didn’t.
There was something appealing about Brighton Valley and small-town life. He actually enjoyed riding fence and herding cattle.
Of course, Jillian didn’t seem like the kind who’d be happy with a cowboy, either. A life in Brighton Valley would be foreign to a woman like her.
So why set himself up for failure? He’d already gone through one divorce because his wife hadn’t been happy with the life he’d wanted to lead.
So why even ponder the possibility of a relationship with Jillian, either long distance or right next door?
Because, for one thing, he couldn’t get her off his mind.
And because he doubted that he’d ever be more sexually compatible with another woman again.
What a shame that would be.
As he cut into his pancakes, which were growing cold, he wondered if it might be best to leave the possibility of a relationship with Jillian to fate. After all, she had his phone number, and he’d included the name of the ranch on which he worked in the note he’d left her at the hotel.
So she could find him if she really wanted to.
“I’m going to get ready for church,” his mother said. “Can I get you anything else? Some OJ? More coffee?”
“No, I’m fine.” Shane looked up from his plate and smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re more than welcome, sweetie.” She stood in the center of the room for a moment, not moving one way or the other, then added, “It’s nice to have you home.”
He nodded, unable to respond out loud. How could he when he was counting the minutes before he could head back to Brighton Valley and to a different way of life?
“I know that you haven’t felt comfortable here for a long time,” she said.
Coming from her, the truth stung. And while he wanted to soften things, to imply that she was wrong or to blame it all on his ex-wife, he couldn’t bring himself to lie. “It’s complicated, Mom. But I’m working on it.”
Her eyes misted, yet she managed a smile. “I can’t ask for more than that.”
Then she left him alone in the kitchen, wondering if he’d ever feel
