Except she was wrong. "I'm not a good guy," he said again, ignoring the way his chest tightened at her words. "Don't look at me like I am."
But she did. She kept studying his face, and then her gaze dropped to his forearm. He knew what she was looking at. He knew that she could see the scars from the cigarettes his dad had put out on his arm so long ago.
"Who did that?" she asked, her voice gentle.
He stiffened. "My dad." He hadn't meant to answer her. He sure as hell hadn't meant to pour out the baggage from his past, and when the flicker of sadness rushed over her face, he wished he hadn't. But at the same time, he had to get that empathy out of her. He had to make her understand that tainted blood ran in his veins. "My dad was a piece of shit, and he taught me all I know." He meant the last as a warning to her, to make sure she understood that the monster who sired him still lived within him.
To his shock, Hannah reached out, her fingers drifting over his scarred forearm. He went still, staring in shock as he watched her hand brush over the old scars, as if she could wipe away all the pain that had accompanied them. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "There are some men in this world who are so bad. I'm so sorry your dad was one of them."
He wanted to tell her that he was one of them too. He really did. But the words stuck in his throat. He simply couldn't do it. He couldn't say the words that would make her run away.
She raised her gaze to his. "Have you ever hurt anyone physically? Ever?"
He swallowed. "I got in fights as a kid. I...do what I have to do. I'm a bounty hunter. My job is...ugly sometimes."
She didn't look away. "Someone like me, I meant," she whispered. "Have you ever physically harmed someone innocent? Someone who you could break if you hurt them. Have you ever hurt anyone like that? Hit them? Struck them?"
The mere idea of it made a cold chill grip his spine. He couldn't imagine anything more abhorrent. "Fuck, no. Never."
She raised her eyebrows, searching his face. "Not once?"
"No way." He swore. "I'd cut off my own arm before I'd strike an innocent, but the monster that would is inside me. I'm my father's son. The violence is a part of me. The destruction of all things beautiful. Not just physically, but spiritually." He brushed his finger over her jaw, quickly, lightly, just needing to touch. "Like you. I would crush that light that shines so beautifully through you. I'm that kind of bastard." Hell. Had he just said that aloud?
Hannah studied him for a long minute, and he saw wisdom in her eyes that belied her age. "If it were in you, you would have hurt someone by now," she said softly. "Men like that...they can't stop themselves. It starts small, but it's always there. If it's not there yet, Maddox, it won't ever be there for you." She touched his arm again. "Even with these."
"Don't believe in me, Hannah. Just don't."
She smiled sadly. "I don't believe in anyone, Maddox, but you make me want to change that."
He saw the truth in her eyes, and suddenly, he wanted to be the one to make her believe again. He wanted to be that good guy who would teach her that some men were decent human beings, that there were people she could count on, that the world could be safe. But he wasn't that guy. He knew those men existed, because his brothers were those kinds of men. He saw the way Chase, Steen, Zane, and Travis treated their women and kids, and he knew that his brothers had somehow risen above the hell that haunted them all.
But he wasn't like them. He was worse, so much worse. There was no happy ending for him. Silently, he reached up and brushed his finger over Hannah's cheek. One touch. Just to see if her skin was as soft as he'd thought.
It was.
She didn't pull away, and for a long moment, they stood there in silence, with his hand against her cheek, and her fingers gripped around his scarred wrist. In less than an hour, he would be on the road, back to his job, back to his life, but this moment...this moment was one he would hold onto for a long time, because it was the first time he'd felt like a real person since his mother had died.
Because Hannah was looking at him with trust, even if he didn't deserve it. That was all it had taken to make him feel human again: just the expression on her face when she looked at him. It was breathtaking.
The kitchen door suddenly opened, and they both dropped their hands as Ava poked her head in. She looked back and forth between them, and then smiled and held up her empty glass.
Hannah let out a nervous laugh. "You want some more milk, pumpkin?"
Ava nodded, holding the glass silently toward Maddox. There was absolutely no fear in her face, just a contented certainty that he would provide.
Fierce protectiveness surged through him, a raw need to draw both females into his space so he could shield them from whatever had caused the shadows in their eyes. He wasn't a protector. He was the guy who people guarded against, but in that moment, he knew his role had changed. He would do whatever it took to keep them safe, even if it meant keeping them away from him.
But right now, they needed him. And he needed them, more than he'd ever needed anything. He needed their sunshine.
So, he took a deep breath, and let go of the walls he'd worked so hard to build up. Not forever. Just for the next hour, until he had them safely set up in their new place. When he was back on the road, he'd be back to himself. But right now, right now he needed to be the guy that they both saw when they looked at him. "One chocolate milk, coming up."
The smile he got from both of them was a gift he knew he'd never forget.
Ever.
Chapter 6
As Maddox drove further and further down the long winding driveway that led to the old Anderson place, he became increasingly convinced that it was a bad idea for Hannah and Ava to move in right before the storm. His truck was bouncing over the ruts in the dirt road, and snow was piled up high on either side. It had clearly been plowed since the last storm, but there were sticks and branches littering the ground. The driveway was over a mile long, and it was pitch black, and completely isolated.
The blowing snow was whipping across his headlights, and he couldn't tell if fresh snow had started to come down yet, or if it was still ground snow blowing. But his dashboard said it was below zero, and that was without the wind chill. It was cold as hell, and this place was much more isolated than he had remembered.
Behind him, the headlights from Hannah's SUV flashed as she followed him. She had stayed close, as was necessary with the increasingly poor visibility. Every time he glanced in his rearview mirror and saw those headlights, he thought of Hannah and her little girl in that dark interior, trusting him to get them to safety. There was no way in hell they would've ever found this place, because the road signs were nonexistent, and the midwinter snowdrifts were already high.
He turned the corner and his lights flashed on a small, snowy cabin. The steps had barely been shoveled, and there were shutters closed over the windows, as if no one had been there in years. There were no lights on, and there were tall trees all around. His headlights flashed over the old barn beside the house, and he grimaced when he saw how ramshackle it looked. Was the house in equally poor condition?
He didn't know what real estate agent Hannah had used, but he had a bad feeling that the house had been misrepresented. This rural homestead was no place for a single mom and a little girl in the middle of a Wyoming winter.
No wonder Lissa had been so insistent that Hannah and Ava go back to her place. He'd been here plenty of times growing up, helping out with the horses, but he had never noticed how isolated and alone it was. Hell, he generally liked things that didn't involve a lot of other people. He still wouldn't have noticed how isolated it was, except for the fact that Hannah and Ava were behind him, and his mind wouldn't stop picturing the two of them in that house.
He parked the car, and by the time Hannah pulled up next to him, he had made his decision. There was no chance that he could allow Hannah and Ava to stay there with the storm rolling in. It simply wasn't safe. She had no cell service, he doubted there was a working
phone line, and he didn't even know if there was electricity. They would be stranded alone once the storm hit, for a few days, without any knowledge of how to survive if the shit went south.
No chance.
He was out of his truck before Hannah had even put her car in park. He jogged around her hood and knocked on her window. She rolled it down and grinned at him. "How cute is this cabin? It's like from a storybook!"
He blinked, startled by her comment. "It's completely isolated out here."
"I wanted privacy. It's perfect." She twisted around in her seat. "What do you think, pumpkin? Did you see the barn? We could get a horse in the spring. Would you like that?"
Ava unhooked herself from the car seat and climbed into the front, nodding fiercely. She held up two fingers, and Hannah laughed. "Yes, of course. We can get two ponies, so we can ride together, and they can have a friend. Does that sound good?"
Ava bobbed her head enthusiastically and threw her arms around Hannah's neck.
Maddox frowned. "You can't stay here. It's so isolated. No one will be able to get to you if you need anything, and you don't even have cell service."
"It's an adventure!" There was no mistaking the excitement in Hannah's eyes, and on Ava's face.
He scowled more deeply. How could they not see what a bad situation this was for them?
"Are you ready to go inside, pumpkin? There are three bedrooms, but I get the big one, because I'm the mom."
Ava wrinkled her nose at Hannah, and then Maddox had to step back as Hannah shoved her car door open.
Maddox frowned as they got out. "I really feel like you should go to Lissa's, and start your move-in after the storm." The wind was whipping fiercely, biting through his clothes. He didn't like Hannah and Ava being out in it. "It's really cold."
"Of course it is. It's Wyoming." Hannah wrapped her arms around Ava, and climbed out. A house key dangled from her fingers as she stepped around Maddox and headed for the front door.
Maddox swore under his breath and caught up to them, his hand out to catch them if either of them slipped on the treacherous ground. They made it to the front step without incident however, and Hannah easily slid the key in the lock, using the light from their headlights to see what she was doing.
Maddox looked over his shoulder, scowling as he noticed that the snow was thicker now, indicating that fresh snow was starting to come down, as opposed to just being stirred up from the ground. The storm was moving in, and it was coming fast. Before too long they wouldn't have any options at all, other than to hunker down exactly where they were.
He didn't like being out of options.
"Oh, it's adorable."
Hannah's awed exclamation caught his attention, and he looked back at the house. She had turned on the lights, illuminating what appeared to be a living room/family room. There were two old couches, with wooden arms and backs, decorated with faded cushions. The coffee table had picture books on it, and there was a wood stove in the corner. To the left was a wide doorway that gave him a view of an old, worn out kitchen with a battered wooden table, old chairs, and tired curtains. There was a weathered rag rug under the kitchen table, and the stove looked like it had been there for forty years.
Hell, the whole place was probably a fire hazard waiting to go up in smoke.
Hannah, however, walked inside, her face illuminated with happiness. "It's perfect," she whispered. "Don't you think, Ava?"
To his surprise, the little girl nodded and squirmed to get out of Hannah's arms. When Hannah set her down, Ava ran across the room, jumped on the couch, stuck her hand between the cushions, and then held up an old, faded stuffed dog. It was light brown, with floppy ears and a droopy tail. The thing looked like it had been stuck there for decades. He had no idea how Ava had noticed it.
She looked up at Maddox then, and held up the dog, beaming at him.
He frowned. "You want me to take it?"
She shook her head and patted her belly, then put the dog on her stomach.
Hannah sucked in her breath. "It's Alfred," she whispered. "She found Alfred. Didn't you, Ava?"
Ava bobbed her head, grinning at Maddox so happily that something inside him turned over. He'd made up that dog thing for his youngest brother, Travis, when he'd have nightmares about going to sleep in that hellhole that they'd grown up in. He hadn't thought about Alfred for years, but something about Ava had made him remember.
He crouched in front of her. "It looks like Alfred decided to come out and see you for real. He almost never does that, you know. Only very special girls get to meet him for real. You take good care of him, and he'll take good care of you. Got it?"
Ava hugged Alfred to her chest, and nodded fiercely. Then she pointed down the hall, and at Hannah's nod, she took off running, clearly checking out the rest of the small house.
Hannah sighed as she watched Ava run, then turned back toward Maddox. "Thank you."
Maddox shrugged. "It's just a story."
"It's not just a story, and you know it. It's a life preserver for her, and you meant it that way." Hannah cocked her head, studying him, and Maddox shifted, uncomfortable with the way she was looking at him, as if he were a saint.
"We need to get going to Lissa's," he said gruffly. "The storm's coming in fast."
Her eyes widened. "To Lissa's? Why would we go there?"
"Because this place—"
"Is perfect." She touched his arm, a light touch that made everything in his gut tighten. "We'll be okay, Maddox. You can go. I know you need to get on the road."
He swore under his breath. "You're staying?" He didn't need to ask. He could see the determination on her face, the way her jaw was set and her eyes were steady and determined.
"Of course." She turned away. "I just need to find the heat. It's freezing in here."
Maddox watched her as she made her way to the wall, walking along as she looked for the thermostat. The wind was howling as it battered the walls, and the shutters were banging. It was going to be a hell of a storm, one that was likely to take out power, and shut down the roads.
He glanced at the wood stove. Only three pieces of wood. He thought back to when he'd been here as a teenager, and remembered a woodpile out near the barn, at least seventy-five yards from the house.
"Found it!" Hannah called out from the kitchen. "It should warm up soon."
Soon? With the old heating system, it would take a few hours to get it to a livable temperature, and that was assuming the power didn't go out.
Hannah walked out of the kitchen. "The fridge and stove work, and there's water, so we're good!" She smiled at him. "Thanks so much for getting us here. I can't thank you enough." She glanced back at the hallway, where Ava was still running around. "It was so important to get her settled. She needs that. Thank you." Weariness flashed across her face, and Maddox suddenly saw that same vulnerability that he'd seen when he'd first walked into the Wildflower Café.
She no longer looked like the fierce, indomitable spirit who was willing to move into a worn-out cabin in the Wyoming tundra in the middle of the night. She looked like a woman who had been ruthlessly dragged through hell, a hell that was still trying to drag her down. She was swaying slightly, as if staying on her feet was taking the last bit of strength she possessed. He noticed again the circles under her eyes, and how pale she looked.
Instinctively, without thinking about it, he rested his hand against the side of her face. He frowned. "Your skin is cold. Too cold."
She raised her brows. But he felt her lean into his touch ever so slightly. "It's zero degrees in here. Of course my face is cold." But even as she said it, he felt her body shiver despite her heavy parka.
"Are you sick?" He narrowed his eyes, protectiveness surging through him. He took note of how narrow her shoulders were, of the way she hugged her arms to her chest, of the way she bit her lower lip. All of them were signs that she was struggling in a way she was refusing to admit.
She shrugged. "Who has time to be sick?" But eve
n as she said it she sighed, and he felt the weight of what she carried in her breath, her voice, and her eyes.
He knew what that weight was. He carried his own share of it. He thought back to what she had said about her wariness around men, and a dark protectiveness and anger settled around him.
Whatever the reason she had to park herself and her daughter out in this hellhole, he had to respect it, because she was a survivor. But as he stood there, his hand still on her cheek, feeling the trembling of her body, he knew he wasn't going to get on the road and drive away until he was sure that they were all set.
He had driven in blizzards plenty of times in his life. What was one more? Fuck it. He had to stay until everything was in place to his satisfaction. It wouldn't take long, and then he could go. His fingers tightened against her cheek, and her gaze went to his. For a moment neither of them said anything. It was just the two of them, like it had been in the kitchen at the café before Ava had come in. Something inside him shifted, something deep, something hot, something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Her gaze slipped to his mouth, and that deep, smoldering heat suddenly erupted into something fierce and possessive. An instinctual need to draw her into his circle, to slide his hand around her waist, and to pour his strength into her.
He might be a bastard that was shunned by the world, but there was one thing he had, and that was strength. He could be a steel wall for Hannah and her little girl, a wall that no enemy could penetrate.
Hannah caught her breath, her gaze snapping to his face. Awareness flushed her cheeks, and suddenly, tension skyrocketed between them, a heated sexual tension that pulsed through him like a hot wind on an August night.
He realized suddenly that he wanted to kiss her.
Chapter 7
No, not kiss her. He wanted to consume her. He wanted to taste her kiss. He wanted to trace his lips down the side of her neck. He wanted to spread his palms over her hips, draw her close, and feel her body against his. He wanted all that vulnerability, goodness, and warmth to pour into him, and he wanted to give her his strength, every last vestige that he could summon. "I want to kiss you," he said, softly, keeping his voice low, so low that she couldn't hear.
A Real Cowboy Loves Forever (Wyoming Rebels Book 5) Page 4
