lame. She owed him an apology, not an evasive, impersonal observation.
He dug out a handkerchief and wiped the sniffling toddler’s nose, then enveloped the tiny bare hand in his large gloved one. “She hasn’t had a nap in days and now we’re all paying for it.”
Could he be as uncomfortable as she was? After all, the last time they saw each other… Her cheeks warmed at the memory.
“Come on, Uncle Trey. Let’s go home.”
“Hang on, Mary.”
He focused again on Kara with a look she could only interpret as wary. Couldn’t blame him.
“So, Kara, you’re back in Canyon Springs.”
She tightened her grip on the snowbrush. “Not for long. Helping my mom get back on her feet. She hasn’t been well.”
“Heard about that. Sorry.”
Was he? Sharon Dixon and Trey Kenton hadn’t exactly been a match made in heaven. Cowboy types didn’t easily endear themselves to her mom. Or her.
The wind kicked up again, swirling a stinging mix of snow and ice pellets into their faces.
“Need to get these kids home and tucked into bed.” He turned to the truck and eased the toddler into the empty car seat next to that of her sister.
Kara stepped away on unsteady legs. Was he visiting? Just babysitting for his brother and sister-in-law? Surely he hadn’t moved back to Canyon Springs. No way. From the moment he’d set a booted foot inside the city limits as a teen, he’d been determined to put the mountain community in his rearview mirror.
With speed that likely rivaled his best record at roping and tying a calf, Trey buckled in his niece. Then he shut the back door and turned to Kara once more, his face again shadowed. “Thank you kindly for your help.”
With a brisk nod and a tip of his hat, he limped around the front of the truck to the driver’s side and climbed in.
He didn’t have a limp in high school.
Heart pounding in an erratic rhythm, she could only stare stupefied at the pickup as another gust of wind slammed into her. She hardly felt the cold creeping in around the neckline of her jacket or the wind-driven snowflakes pelting her face.
That was it? A coolly polite “thank you kindly for your help”? She took another step back, absently glancing down at the frosty ground—and spied a pint-size mitten lying half-buried in the snow. She knelt to pick it up with a trembling hand.
But before she could return it to its diminutive owner, the truck started—and the man whose life she’d all but ruined drove away.
Whoa. Trey gave a low whistle as he and the girls headed out of town to his brother and sister-in-law’s place, the windshield wipers battling the pummeling snow.
Kara Dixon. Hadn’t bargained on that one tonight.
He’d been in and out of Canyon Springs the past several months and knew she’d returned at Thanksgiving. Heard she was an interior designer with some big firm in Chicago. Had even glimpsed her a few times, helping her mother out of a car at the grocery store. Unloading boxes at the Warehouse. Dashing coatless across the street to Camilla’s Café.
He’d intentionally kept his distance—even stayed away from town most weekends—but she wasn’t a woman who’d be easily overlooked. Not with that toned figure and long, red-blonde mane of hers caught up in a ponytail. Strawberry blonde. That’s how his sister-in-law described it. And Kara was model-tall and leggy, too, like a thoroughbred. He’d forgotten how it initially amused his seventeen-year-old self that ill-fated night when, in a sassy show of bravado, she’d walked right up to him, all but able to look him straight in the eye.
Just like her old man did to him now.
Well, maybe not just like. Her father’s blustery shot at intimidation didn’t send his heart galloping off like a wild mustang or his brain hurtling into a bottomless, fog-filled canyon. Didn’t make his mouth go as dry as the Sonoran desert before summer monsoons kicked in.
Trey took a deep breath, still reliving the shock of turning to face her. No, he hadn’t bargained on running into Kara up close and personal. And he sure hadn’t bargained on feeling as if he’d collided with rock-hard Mother Earth, compliments of an irritable bronc. Even after all this time, even after what she’d done to him, he couldn’t shake the impact of those beautiful gray eyes.
He let out a gust of pent-up breath. What was wrong with him anyway? He wasn’t a kid anymore with a crush on the prettiest girl he’d ever seen—yet his heart was doing a too-familiar do-si-do, the rhythm beckoning him back through time.
He slammed the heel of his hand into the rim of the steering wheel, startling his dog, Rowdy, who rode shotgun on the seat next to him. He gave the Gordon setter-collie mix a reassuring pat and a feathered tail wagged in understanding.
Kara. No way was he going down that road again. He’d come back to town to lay the past to rest, not resurrect it. Thank the good Lord it sounded like she didn’t plan to linger much longer. Just popping in to check on her mom. He needed to stay focused on the business at hand. Business, in fact, that Li’l Ms. Dixon wasn’t going to be much pleased about once word got around. Which it eventually would in a tiny place like this.
In spite of himself, his mind’s eye drifted to that long-ago night that now once again seemed like yesterday. The look in her eyes. The sweet scent of her hair. How she felt in his arms…
“Uncle Trey, why did you drive past our road?”
The accusing voice of his older niece carried from the shadowed recesses of the backseat, jerking him into the here and now.
“Just takin’ the scenic route.” He glanced into the rearview mirror at Mary, all the while racking his memory as to how much farther he’d have to drive to turn around with the empty trailer hitched to the back.
Kara Dixon was already messing with his mind.
“It’s dark.” Mary’s petulant voice came again. “I want to go home.”
She sounded as tired as he was. Three days playing both Mom and Dad had just about done him in. One more day to go.
“Your wish is my command, princess.”
“I’m your princess?”
“You know it.”
He glanced again at Mary, then over his shoulder at Missy and smiled. Sound asleep. He’d drive all night if it would keep her snoozing. What a day. He shouldn’t have dragged them all the way to Holbrook this afternoon to look at that pony.
Seemed like a good idea at the time, but that was before a stronger cold front plowed into the region. Before he’d discovered the advertised pinto was an ill-tempered beast, certainly nothing he’d want his nieces having anything to do with. Then there had been the diaper dealings. A lesson learned the hard way. No, not a day he cared to relive anytime soon. His sister-in-law would laugh her head off.
It was just as well, though, that the trip was a bust. His brother would have killed him if he’d
