corner, where the overhang provided shade. Kate was quiet as they walked, her gait stiff. He attempted to defuse the situation with humor.
“Could be worse,” he deadpanned. “You could be stuck at the table, sitting through countless pictures of Jarrett Ross’s rodeo buckles on Mrs. Ross’s phone.”
“Did I look as trapped as I felt?”
“So much that I was questioning whether I’d need my hostage negotiation training to rescue you.”
Her lips curved in an impish grin. “Think Mrs. Ross would have let me go in exchange for a fully fueled helicopter and a briefcase of unmarked bills? Not that she was the only guilty party. Before she started regaling me with Jarrett’s many fine qualities, Gram— Oh.” She sucked in a breath as her foot slid sideways, catching a root that jutted out from the hillside.
Cole reached for her automatically, his hands going to her waist so she wouldn’t tumble. As soon as his fingers settled above her hips, a potent sense of awareness jolted through him. The only thing separating her skin from his was the soft thin cotton of her dress. It was an absurdly tantalizing thought, given the hands-on nature of his job. From shaking hands with voters to demonstrating first-aid techniques in community classes, his days were full of physical contact. Yet he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so deeply affected.
Kate, however, didn’t seem to share his enjoyment of the moment. Her eyes were wide, as if she found his touch disconcerting. As soon as he noticed, he let go of her so fast she almost lost her balance again.
He winced. When had he become such a bumbling ass? “Sorry.” This time he steadied her with a strictly platonic grip on her elbow.
“No reason to be,” she said, her voice shaky. “You were, um, just trying to be helpful.”
Exactly. Helpful. Not lustful.
Well, maybe a bit of both. “I didn’t mean to startle you, grabbing you like that.” The expression on her face had been damned near panicky.
“It’s been a really long—” Her cheeks reddened. “I guess I shouldn’t be tromping around the farm in wedge sandals. They’re not exactly all-terrain. What was I saying? Before?”
The better question was, what had she been about to say now, before she’d interrupted herself to denounce her shoes?
She snapped her fingers. “Oh, I remember! Just that Jarrett Ross wasn’t the only man Gram and her friends mentioned. There was also prolonged discussion of one of Crystal’s cousins, an accountant named Greg Tucker? Your mother can’t imagine why someone who would be ‘such a good provider’ is still single.”
“Possibly because Greg hates kids,” Cole guessed. “Well, hate may be too strong a word. But not by much.” From what Cole had seen when the Tuckers were together en masse, Greg barely tolerated his legion of nieces and nephews. He was a completely illogical match for a single mom.
“I definitely can’t get involved with anyone who dislikes kids. Luke’s challenging enough to people who are crazy about them.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Lord, that sounded awful. I didn’t mean... I know he didn’t make a stellar first impression on you, but deep down he’s a good boy.”
“All kids make mistakes,” he reassured her, remembering his own scalding embarrassment when he was called into the principal’s office to discuss Alyssa’s marker-on-the-bathroom-wall misadventure. “Even a cop’s kids.”
Kate’s laugh was hollow. “That’s exactly what Luke is.”
He swung his gaze to her in surprise. “Your ex-husband is a policeman?”
“Was,” she corrected softly. “My late husband was a policeman.”
He was too shocked to respond. Why hadn’t his mother mentioned Kate was a widow? “I—”
“There they are.” She gestured toward the left of the barn. The two kids sat with their heads close together as they looked down, too focused to notice the approaching adults. As Cole and Kate got closer, the breeze carried Alyssa’s exclamations of delight.
“It’s perfect!” she cried. “Except it needs wings.”
Luke chuckled. “First you said you wanted a horse, then you said unicorn. Now a Pegasus? What’s next, a whole herd?”
“No. I just want one winged unicorn. But she’d look better if she was glittery. Do you have any sparkly crayons?” she asked hopefully.
“Hell, no.”
Cole’s eyes narrowed at the kid’s language, but Kate’s fingers on his forearms stopped his intended reprimand. He glanced up, his annoyance fading in the wake of her beseeching expression.
Besides, his little girl was already taking the teenager to task. “You aren’t supposed to say the H word. Unless you’re at church and they’re talking about the Bad Place.”
“Sorry. I’ll try not to say it again,” Luke promised.
“That’s okay. Sometimes my daddy says it, too.”
Kate snickered, and Cole gave her a sheepish smile. “Busted,” she said softly.
Luke’s head shot up. “Mom?”
“Hey.” She stepped away from Cole, putting an almost comical amount of distance between them.
Cole remembered the boy’s hostility yesterday when he’d seen the two adults smiling at each other. How long had it been since Luke’s father died? As someone who was still close to both of his parents, even as an adult, Cole couldn’t imagine what that loss was like for the kid.
“We were just coming to get you guys for lunch,” Kate said. “Who’s hungry?”
“Me!” Alyssa shot up as though she was spring-loaded. Although Luke showed more restraint, his eyes gleamed at the mention of food.
Both kids hurried back toward the house.
“Be careful,” Cole called after his daughter. Her flip-flops weren’t any better suited for hiking across rolling pastureland than Kate’s sandals were. He glanced down to check for swelling or a limp. “How’s your foot? You didn’t twist your ankle, did you?”
“I’m fine. Just a little embarrassed. I reacted badly when you tried to keep me from falling. I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. But it’s been so long since...”
A man had touched her? At all? Cole hadn’t exactly swept her into his arms for a passionate embrace. “Did you lose him recently?” he asked in a murmur, as if his regular speaking voice would make the question disrespectful.
She shook her head. “Couple of years. But I’ve been so busy trying to keep Luke out of trouble that time gets distorted, if that makes any sense.”
“It does. My ex-wife left when the girls were babies—she decided she wasn’t cut out for small-town life or trying to take care of two infants. There are odd moments when our being a whole family feels like yesterday, but other times, it seems like a different existence, altogether. Like remembering
