A Real Cowboy Loves Forever (Wyoming Rebels Book 5)

by Stephanie Rowe

  Maddox ducked behind the counter, grabbed her coat from the hook by the kitchen door, and held it out to her. "I've been in your kitchen before. I know what to do. Get out, or I'm going to call Travis and tell him that the woman he loves is taking unnecessary risks with her safety. You want him to worry about you when he's in New York, unable to get back here to help you?"

  Mentioning Travis's worry for her did it. Concern flicked in Lissa's eyes, and she inclined her head. "Okay. I'll go. But I want you to text me and let me know whether you're bringing Hannah and Ava to my place or not. And the pies will be ready in ten minutes." She hesitated. "I don't want you to overcook them—"

  "I know how to tell if pies are done." He helped her get her coat on, moving her toward the kitchen. "Text me when you get back to the ranch. Get out."

  Lissa turned, and gave him a quick hug. Then she winked at Hannah. "Welcome to Rogue Valley, Hannah. The café is open almost every day, so even if you end up staying at the Anderson place tonight, you come see me when the storm is over. You need a friend, and I'm here for you."

  Maddox didn't miss the flash of longing on Hannah's face, and he sure as hell noticed the way she stiffened, as if trying to talk herself out of her need to respond to Lissa's overture. Clearly, Hannah was a loner, like him. He felt a flash of regret. Being a loner might be the only way to survive, but sometimes it completely sucked.

  He held the door for Lissa, watching until she went out the back door, and the door swung shut behind her, leaving him alone in the café with an oven full of pies, and two females who were going to be in serious trouble if he didn't deliver for them.

  He wasn't good for women. He knew he wasn't. He'd learned that lesson a long time ago. Swearing, he closed his eyes. How the hell had he just gotten himself into this situation?

  Not that it mattered. He was in it, and now he had to see it through.

  Gritting his teeth, he turned around to face the two females counting on him.

  Chapter 4

  The moment that the back door shut behind Lissa, Hannah suddenly realized that she'd made a huge mistake. She was alone with a strong, dangerous man, and she had a little girl to protect. Dear God. Suddenly, the images of her sister's battered body and her mother's bruised face flashed through her mind, and her heart started hammering with panic.

  What had she been thinking? She had been so desperate to be a part of the affection between Lissa and Maddox that she'd agreed to something insanely foolish, and potentially dangerous.

  She knew about men. She knew how dangerous they could be. And yet, she'd walked right into this.

  She immediately stood up, holding Ava tight. "You know," she said, trying to keep the strain out of her voice as she tried not to look at Maddox. "Why don't you just write down the directions? The snow is getting worse, and I really should head out now. I don't think it would be wise for me to wait until the pies are ready. I'm sure I'll be able to follow your directions well enough, when I add them to the ones I already received from the realtor."

  Maddox studied her, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned his shoulder against the door jamb and cocked one leg to the side, in a casual, jaunty pose that made him look even more imposing than he already did. "I have never hurt a woman in my life, and now isn't the moment when I'm going to start."

  She blinked, replaying his words in her head as she stared at him, startled by how he'd zeroed in on the exact reason why she was suddenly nervous. For a split second, she wanted to just drop her shields and admit that she was terrified of everything, but instead, she pulled her shoulders back and summoned strength she could barely access. "You mean, you are going to start hurting women at some point in the future? It just isn't going to be this particular moment in time? Because that really doesn't make me feel safer."

  His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed. She expected him to defend himself, but he said nothing. He just stared at her, his expression hard and cold. There was something in his eyes that made her hesitate. She realized suddenly that she'd hurt him. Deeply.

  She thought of how much Lissa had clearly adored him. Of how he'd gotten Ava to smile. Of the weight in his eyes. Suddenly she knew that she'd been wrong to judge him so quickly. He was a protector, not someone who would hurt the innocent. Heat flooded Hannah's cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said, meaning it. "I didn't mean to offend you."

  He shrugged, lifting one shoulder, but she didn't believe his casual response. There was too much tension in his body, too much darkness in his eyes. She sighed, recognizing her own limitations. Based on all the evidence, she was pretty certain that he was completely trustworthy. The problem was with her own inability to trust any man, not just him. He didn't deserve to be insulted because of her own lack of capacity to be normal. She sighed, wanting to take away the insult she'd just tossed at the man who had been so kind to her and Ava, as well as Lissa. "I just meant, that I feel like I should go. I didn't mean anything personal by it. I just—" She hesitated, not sure that announcing that she basically saw all men as potential threats was the right way to go.

  "The question is," Maddox said, his voice low and rough as he watched her, "are you safer trying to find the Anderson place alone in the storm, or here with me? That's the million-dollar question, isn't it?"

  There was something in the way he asked it that made her pause. Even Ava lifted her head to look at him. There was an edge to his voice, a raw bitterness laced with self-hate that made her heart turn over. She looked at him more closely, and this time, she noticed the small scar on his temple, and the scars on his fingers. There were small round scars on his left forearm that looked like burn marks. Small, round burns about half a centimeter in diameter, marks that looked like they'd been caused by a...cigarette?

  No.

  She had to be imagining things. Her gaze snapped to his, and the sudden raw pain she saw in his eyes told her she'd been right. Someone had burned cigarettes into his arm at some point in his life.

  Silently, he unfolded his arms, and turned and went back into the kitchen, leaving her and Ava alone out front.

  Hannah closed her eyes, her throat tightening. What had happened to him? How old had he been when he'd gotten those scars? She wanted to run after him, to hug him, to offer him the comfort that she'd never gotten all those nights she'd been so scared as a child.

  But she didn't move. Katie had been the hugger. Katie had been the one to offer comfort. Hannah didn't know how to do that. All she knew was how to erect shields around her, barriers that would keep people out. Besides, Katie's love had gotten her killed, and there was no way that Hannah was going to make the same mistake.

  She would never trust anyone, especially not a man, especially when she had Ava to protect.

  She should leave. Right then. Get in her car and drive until she found a place to stay. Men scared her, and Maddox clearly had the kind of violence in his past that terrified her. She should run, take Ava, and...

  Ava touched her arm, and Hannah opened her eyes. Ava touched her lips with her fingers, and then rubbed her belly, indicating that she was hungry. Hannah grimaced. "I'm sorry, baby, but I think we should go—"

  Just then, the kitchen door swung open. Hannah jumped as Maddox walked out, carrying two trays. One of them had a sandwich and a salad on it, and he set that in front of Hannah. The other one he held up to Ava. "This is my secret recipe," he said, his voice gruff. "Only special kids get to eat this. So far, only my niece and nephews have gotten to eat it, but I can tell that you're particularly awesome, so you get to be in the inner circle."

  Ava watched him, her eyes wide.

  Maddox set the tray down in front of her, and both Hannah and Ava leaned forward to see what was on it. It was macaroni and cheese, but somehow Maddox had managed to arrange it into the shape of a dog. He had used chocolate chips for the eyes, a strawberry for the nose, and French fries for the whiskers. "His name is Alfred," Maddox said, his voice softening the longer he spoke. "He's a magic dog. Once he's in your belly, he sta
ys with you forever as your guardian angel. He's always there to hug you if you need it, and to chase away the bad dreams. All you have to do is say his name, and he'll be there for you." Maddox set a glass of chocolate milk down. "And drink your milk. It's good for you. Got it?"

  Ava nodded vigorously, watching him with rapt attention.

  "Good." He glanced at Hannah. "You need to eat, too," he said, his voice still gruff. "You look like you're going to pass out."

  She blinked, startled by the way his deep voice seemed to wrap around her, enveloping her in a sense of warmth and safety. She stared at him, unable to look away from his gaze. There was so much emotion in there, pain, hardness, regret. And something else. A yearning. A longing. For what? She cleared her throat. "Thank you," she whispered. "I—" She stopped, not sure what to say.

  Silence fell, and for a long moment, they stared at each other. After a moment, he nodded, and stood up. He didn't wait for an answer. Without another word, without another look, he turned and walked back into the kitchen, letting the door shut behind him.

  Hannah stared after him, her mouth open in shock. "Alfred?" she whispered to herself. Alfred the magic dog. How on earth had Maddox realized what Ava needed? How did a man so tough and hard know what a traumatized four-year-old needed?

  Ava scrambled off Hannah's lap onto the adjacent stool, and pulled the tray over. She leaned forward, so she was eye level with Alfred. Her lips moved, and Hannah knew she was whispering something to the dog. Tears suddenly clogged her throat. Dear God. Ava was whispering to the macaroni dog. Talking, for the first time in six months.

  Ava finished her conversation, then she leaned over and kissed Alfred on his strawberry nose. Hannah's throat tightened as Ava picked up a fork, grinned at Hannah, and started eating, a small smile curving her mouth.

  Hannah smiled back, ruffling Ava's hair as the little girl started shoveling the food into her mouth, eating with more vigor than she had in six months.

  For a long moment, Hannah sat there, stroking Ava's hair, watching her daughter eat, aware of the sounds of pots clanking in the kitchen as Maddox moved around. Something clanged, and he swore under his breath, just loud enough for them to hear.

  Ava looked at Hannah, and then giggled, her eyes dancing with mirth, clearly highly amused that they'd caught Maddox swearing.

  Giggles.

  Whispers.

  Shoveling food in her mouth as if she could never get enough to eat.

  Three things that Hannah hadn't been able to make happen for Ava...until now.

  She knew why it had happened now.

  She could see it in the way Ava was swinging her feet, and the relaxed set to her shoulders. Ava felt safe. Maddox, with his broad shoulders, gruff voice, and macaroni dog, had made Ava feel safe.

  Maddox had given them their first moment of feeling safe in years, maybe ever, and yet, Hannah had basically accused him of hurting women. He was the same man Hannah was afraid to be alone with. The same man who had made Lissa light up. The same man who had made Hannah feel safe when he'd said he'd escort them to her new place. He'd made her feel safe, until her mind and her own baggage had interfered, dragging her into the horrors of her past.

  She looked at her sandwich, at the salad he'd put together for her, on his own, without even asking if she was hungry. She closed her eyes. On an instinctive level, she was terrified of the man in that kitchen, of his immense strength, of the darkness he undoubtedly carried inside him, but at the same time, she knew in her gut, that she was seeing him through her own filtered lens of hardship.

  The man had made Ava a macaroni dog, for heaven's sake. He might have flaws, but there was something inside him that was worthwhile. She knew it, even if she was too afraid of him, or any man, to admit it. She didn't have to trust him. She didn't have to let him into her life, or see him for even one moment after tonight, but she did have to do one thing.

  She owed him an apology.

  Chapter 5

  Maddox knew the moment that Hannah stepped into the kitchen. He didn't know how, because he hadn't heard her, but suddenly he knew she was standing in the same room as he was. He closed his eyes and braced his hands on the counter, not turning around.

  Ten pies were lined up on the stovetop, and the potholder was still in his hand. He didn't want to look at her. He didn't want to see that expression on her face again, when she realized how dangerous he was, how blackened his soul was.

  He was used to people looking at him like that. He had truly thought he didn't care anymore. He had honestly believed that on that night when he was seventeen, he had shut down enough that it would never bother him again, when someone looked at him like the monster he was.

  And it never had bothered him. Not until the moment that he'd seen that expression on Hannah's face, when she'd been holding her daughter so tightly, her eyes wide with fear as she had announced her need to get on the road.

  He had had no words to respond.

  And now she was standing behind him, as if he were expected to turn around and talk to her, as if he was a normal human being. As if all the crap of his past wasn't firmly entrenched in every fiber of his being.

  "Maddox?"

  He grimaced at the sound of her voice, at the way it spread through him like kindness and warmth. Her voice was beautiful, like the sounds of birds on an early morning ride just as the sun was rising and nature was waking up. Shit. He hadn't thought of those rides on his favorite horse in a long time. What the hell? Why was he thinking about Big Red again? He'd left horses and his memories behind long ago.

  He cleared his throat. "I'll be ready to go in about five minutes." He didn't turn around, and didn't give her the chance to say she wanted to drive in the storm by herself. Fuck that. He might be scum, but there was no chance he was letting Hannah and Ava out into the storm alone. "I'm going to put the pies in the walk-in freezer, so they should be okay, even going in hot." He kept his voice hard and steady, focused. "You can follow me in your car."

  She sighed, a deep sigh he could feel in his gut even from the other side of the kitchen. He ground his jaw, his muscles becoming even more tense. What the hell did she want from him? This was all he had. All he fucking had to offer.

  He heard the creak of the floor, and knew she was heading back to the front of the café. It was exactly what he wanted to accomplish, but he couldn't suppress the stab of regret that he managed to alienate the first woman that had made him feel anything in years. Hell. He didn't want to be dealing with this—

  Suddenly, he felt the whisper soft touch of her hand on the back of his shoulder. He froze, going absolutely still, his breath freezing in his chest. Her touch was so gentle, so soft, softer than anything he'd ever felt in his life. Every one of his senses honed in on the sensation of her fingers against the back of his shoulder, trying to imprint the sensation in his soul so he would never forget how it felt to be touched like that.

  "I'm sorry, Maddox." Her voice was as soft and kind as her touch, gently nestling its way past the armor he'd worked so hard to reinforce over the years.

  He cleared his throat, still not turning around, afraid that if he moved at all, her fingers would slide off him, and he would never feel this again. "No apologies necessary." His voice was gruff, hard, almost harsh. He grimaced when he heard what he sounded like, but he didn't know what else to say. He felt like he didn't have another voice anymore, but for the first time in a long time, he wished he did. He wished he had another way to talk to her, to this woman who was touching him as if he was some treasure to be honored and nurtured.

  "Sometimes an apology is necessary." Her voice was still soft, but he heard the crack of emotion. "I owe you one."

  It was that hint of vulnerability that made him turn around. He simply couldn't turn his back on her, even if it meant losing the whisper-light physical connection between them. The moment he turned to face her, and she raised those brown eyes to his, his breath stuttered again. "God," he whispered. "You're like a single ray of sun
shine, drifting through the darkness. I could breathe it in forever. Never apologize for who you are."

  Her eyes widened, and belatedly, he realized what he'd said. Shit. He wasn't the guy who talked about sunshine and hope, not anymore.

  Her hand slid down his arm, and fell to her side. His entire soul seemed to call out at the loss of her touch, and he was viscerally aware of the fact that she hadn't simply pulled her hand back, but had prolonged the contact, as if she too had come to life from that mere touch.

  She lifted her chin, as if she were summoning resolution. "I do owe you an apology," she said firmly. "I insulted your kindness and your offer of help. I want you to know that my reaction to you had nothing to do with you. I…" She hesitated, but before he could interrupt, she caught herself and seemed to find the energy to finish what she was saying. "I have trust issues when it comes to men," she said succinctly, her gaze steady on his face. "That's my baggage, not yours. I appreciate your help, and I would love for you to escort us to our new place so we can get there safely."

  There was so much vulnerability in her eyes that Maddox couldn't hold onto the detached coldness he lived by. But he knew he should. This woman was vulnerable. She could not let her guard down around him. She simply couldn't. Which meant he had to keep the walls up for them. "Ironically," he said. "Your hesitation was the appropriate response when dealing with me. I'm not a good guy. I come from bad stock, and it's just a matter of time until it wins. You saw in me an evil that is truly there." Crap. He hated saying that out loud. He absolutely hated acknowledging what he really was, especially to her.

  She stared at him, searching his face as if trying to see into his very soul.

  He let her. She needed to know what he was.

  "You would never hurt me," she said softly, breathing out a deep sigh of relief, as if she was so pleased to have finally figured out the truth about him.