him. Marie moved to the table and talked to Becca about the doll.
An unfamiliar peace settled about Colt’s shoulders. It was temporary, but maybe for a few minutes he’d let himself experience what it felt like to be part of a family, and maybe even, foolish as it was, he’d pretend he belonged.
Little Joe trotted the horse up Colt’s leg and arm, across his neck and down again, making funny little horse sounds. The feel of the little boy’s hands and legs as he climbed over him did strange things to Colt’s guarded thoughts. Peeled away layers. He discovered he liked being touched. Didn’t realize it was something he’d missed until this very moment.
Little Joe trotted the horse up again. This time he went over Colt’s head. The horse tangled in Colt’s hair. Little Joe tugged.
Colt squinted against the pain of having his hair pulled.
“I’ll get it.” He tugged and twisted, but the toy would not come free.
“My horsee.” Little Joe whined and screwed up his face in preparation for a yowl.
“Don’t cry,” Colt begged. He’d never be able to get the toy out of his hair if he had to cover his ears.
“Do you need help?” Becca asked.
He couldn’t look at her. “I can get it.” He yanked, bit back a groan, yanked again. The toy did not come free.
“You’re only making it worse.” She stood behind him. “Let me.”
He felt her with every nerve in his back. He itched to put more distance between them. She touched his head. His scalp tingled, and he knew an unusual sense of comfort. He held his breath, expecting her to jerk the toy free without consideration for his tender scalp, but her fingers gently separated strands of hair from the toy. Each touch was like a kiss. A blessing. A calming massage. He closed his eyes against the pleasure. He should never have allowed her to do this.
A smile caught at the corner of his mouth. She hadn’t exactly waited for permission.
“Got it.” She handed the toy to a tearful Little Joe and stepped back.
Marie stood before him. “He didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know. He was only playing.”
“You aren’t angry?”
“No.” He couldn’t even manage to be angry at himself. Whatever line he had crossed was worth it for the pleasure of her touch. He’d gladly face whatever repercussions came.
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