Rodeo Sheriff

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked.

Madeline crooked one tiny finger at Tori, who leaned close and listened to the whispering in her ear. “She said she’s not Mad.”

“Of course she isn’t. Why did you call her mad?”

“Her name is long. I gives everybody a nickname, Mommy.”

“Fair enough. ‘Madeline’ is a mouthful. She might like Maddy. It’s pretty. Try it out and see what her reaction is.”

Tori leaned close to Madeline. “Your name is long. I can call you Maddy, okay?”

Madeline nodded, and peace was restored.

Rachel reached to wipe Madeline’s cheeks, but she reared back. Honey exchanged a glance with her friend.

Since the funeral, only Cole had been able to hold Madeline. She wouldn’t even go to his sister’s best friend. But she’d wanted Honey to hold her.

He’d thought maybe Madeline was softening. But she’d rejected Rachel, who was about as warm as a person could be, who loved children, and who was loved by children in return.

How was Madeline going to be with Tanya? Cole hadn’t expected this wrinkle.

His legs wanted to pace. His feet itched to carry him far away.

A breath whooshed out of him. He’d pushed through the past week with sheer discipline, but now that he was home in Rodeo, he’d hit a wall.

And yet, he had so far to go. His new life had only just begun, with no time for fatigue. In coming home, he hadn’t reached the end, but a beginning.

He didn’t have a clue how to live this new life.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, his palm rasping across his unshaven jaw.

He drained the last of his coffee. Honey was right. The warm drink had restored a semblance of calm.

Needing another one, he stood. Already way ahead of him, Honey took his mug and refilled it.

He had to resist her allure.

If he let himself go, he would grab hold of her and never, ever release her again.

He wanted Honey that badly.

Her touch staggered him, weakened him and made him wish for things he knew could never be.

That bit of foolishness when he’d taken her hand and held on for dear life had been a mistake, simply his neediness taking over.

He loved her.

He shouldn’t. He knew in his heart they wouldn’t suit each other. Experience had taught him irreversible lessons.

Case closed.

She handed his coffee then stepped away, passing through a shaft of sunlight. His breath caught.

She really was one of the prettiest women for miles around. Honey’s deep-set blue eyes studied the world with captivating intelligence. Long, blond curls touched the base of her spine. A wide-necked white blouse fell from one shoulder while a belt cinched in her waist above a flowing blue skirt. Turquoise and silver jewelry at wrists, ears and throat shone in the sunbeam.

Her lush figure, pocket-size compared to his six-one frame, well... Cole swallowed. He couldn’t dwell on that too much. He’d ached for her for too long.

Best to ignore physical desires.

The absolute perfection of Honey Armstrong, though, was her smile—the one she flashed often for every man, woman and child in Rodeo. It turned prettiness into beauty.

Cole turned away and steeled himself.

The door that separated the apartment from the stairs down to the street opened. Violet Summer burst into the room. Exactly the kind of entrance bold, confident Vy liked to make. She waved to Cole at the other end of the living room. He raised one hand in a modified version of Vy’s flamboyance.

He liked Vy a lot. She was one of the town’s go-to sources of good common sense in the midst of any crisis. Plus, she sold great food at respectable prices and treated everyone with sincere, if sarcastic, good humor.

Chelsea followed her in, and Tori launched herself at her friend. They hugged.

“Did you bringed the nail polish?” Tori asked.

“What do you think, pipsqueak?”

Tori giggled. “’Kay.”

They put boxes on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room and unloaded them. They must have cleaned out all of the diner’s Saturday leftovers.

Honey took Vy’s hand and led her down the hallway. Rachel followed. Cole knew what that meant—his story being shared.

He hated it, loathed this laying bare of his life, but he expected it. The whole town would, and should, know of it soon enough.

Rodeo was now the home of his sister’s two children, and the townspeople needed to get to know them.

He knew everything there was to know about his fellow citizens. Why shouldn’t they know about him? He’d protected his past from them, though. That was his and his alone.

But the children’s story would spread, naturally.

Vy strode back into the living room and made a beeline for him. He stood to catch her in his arms when she grasped him to her curvy body.

She held on for long moments, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

They both knew it was inadequate, but her concern was welcome nonetheless.

When he could take no more of her sympathy, he set her away from him. He glanced down and smiled to relieve the grief building in him like a pressure cooker about to blow.

God knew he didn’t want to cry in front of these women and the children. That would set off everyone, especially Evan and Madeline.

“Is it my imagination, or are you showing?”