Kip was taken aback at her comment, but he couldn’t look away from her. Her words were like a balm to his soul. A recognition that what he had done was, at times, worth all the frustration and all the uncertainty.
“Thank you,” he said releasing a slow smile.
She returned it. “When I saw how excited you were, when I heard you talking about the chuck wagons, I sensed that you missed it more than you let on.”
Kip tried to push her comment aside with a shrug. “It had to end eventually.”
“You’ve still got your horses, though. When I see what those teams can do, I’m trying to think of the hours of training you’ve put into them.” She touched his shoulder, as if trying to convince him. “I can’t imagine that you can stand to be away from that for long.”
“I’ve got the boys,” he said, gripping Justin’s hand as they meandered through the crowds. “They’re my responsibility. Like I said, I can’t be leaving them alone every weekend.” His words came out a bit harsher than he intended. He got the feeling that she was trying to make him wish he didn’t have Tristan and Justin.
“Your mother can take care of the boys, and Isabelle can do more.”
Kip was surprised by her reply. He was so sure she was going to tell him how much easier his life would be without the boys, which would bolster her case.
“Isabelle has had her own troubles,” he said, defending his little sister.
“You lost a brother too.”
Darkness entered Kip’s soul. “Whatever happened to me is my own fault.”
“How so?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He struggled to keep his emotions in check, flashes of that horrible day coming one after the other, the tangle of the reins, the horse struggling to pull free, Scott lying underneath.
“I understand from your mother that you blame yourself for what happened to Scott.”
She spoke quietly, but her words laid his soul bare.
“Why do you care?”
“I’ve seen what guilt can do,” she said, shooting him a quick glance. “And how it can distort a person’s view of himself.”
She hadn’t answered his question, but he suspected she wouldn’t. He thought of what she had told him the other night and wondered if she regretted telling him all she had.
“I understand it was your horse he was riding,” she added.
Didn’t look like she was quitting. With a sigh, he gave in. “Yeah. It was mine. A green-broke horse that Scott shouldn’t have been riding.”
Nicole nodded. “He chose to ride it, didn’t he?”
Kip frowned. “You sound like my mother.”
“That’s not a bad thing.” Nicole shot him a sideways glance, her mouth lifted in a faint smile. “Your mother is right.”
Kip shrugged aside her comment. “You can color it anyway you want, the reality is he’d still be here if he hadn’t gotten on that horse.”
“Could you have stopped him from getting on that horse, and would you have?”
Her quiet question set him back.
“He was an adult, and he made his own choices,” Nicole continued. “I don’t think you need to carry that responsibility. No one else seems to think you should.”
Her softly spoken words rearranged thoughts and ideas he’d held for the past six months. Guilt he had carried since he pulled Scott out from underneath the horse.
Then, to his further surprise, he felt her hand on his arm. “You’re a good man, Kip, and you’re an even better brother. I don’t know many men who would let their brother and two little boys move in with him when he already has a mother and a sister to take care of.”
He glanced over at her, her soft smile easing into his soul. Then puzzlement took over. “Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you supposed to be making me out to be the bad guy?” His eyes ticked over her face, then met her gaze.
She didn’t look away. “You’re not the bad guy.”
Kip didn’t reply, not sure what to make of her. Was she flirting with him?
“You just happen to be caught in a bad situation.” Then she looked away.
What was she doing? Was she playing him?
He blew out his breath, not sure what to think. Then he glanced over at her. She was watching him again. That had been happening a lot lately, but this time as their eyes met, he felt a deeper, surprising emotion.
More than appeal. More than attraction. Her story the other night had shown him a glimpse into the inner workings of Nicole Williams. And yes, he felt sorry for her, but at the same time he’d been given something precious. He suspected that someone as private as she didn’t share her history with too many people.
“Why are you guys talking about our dad?” Justin said, suddenly speaking up.
“We’re just remembering things.” Time to change the subject. “And you have sugar on your face.” Kip brushed away the shiny granules clinging to his lip.
“So does Auntie Nicole,” Justin said, pointing with one sugar-coated hand.
“So she does.”
“Where?” Nicole asked, brushing at her face.
“There.” Kip pointed it out to her with a smile.
Nicole wiped her cheek, then the other one. “No, I don’t.”
“It’s right here.” Kip brushed the sugar from her chin. Then his fingers slowed; lingered an extra second.
She swallowed and her free hand caught his, her delicate fingers encircling his wrist. “Thanks,” she whispered, her smile settling into his soul.
“You’re welcome.”
“Hey, there’s the Ferris wheel.” Justin pulled on Kip’s hand, breaking the moment. “Let’s go for a ride.”
“Here goes,” Kip said, letting Justin pull him along.
The Ferris wheel towered above them, buckets swinging and people laughing.
“I’ll get in line, you get the tickets,” Nicole suggested. She pulled out her wallet, but Kip waved it off.
“My treat,” he said.
“Thank you.” She gave him another smile and Kip almost started whistling as he walked to the ticket booth. But he didn’t. Justin was looking up at him as if trying to figure out why his uncle Kip was in such a good mood.
It was just a fun evening, he told himself as he paid for the tickets. Just a casual time with an attractive woman and his nephews. Their nephews, he corrected.
When he returned, the line behind them had grown. When they got to the front, Kip saw that the seats held four people. He had assumed that he would go on one seat with Justin and Nicole and Tristan on another. From the looks of the line, he doubted each would be allowed to have their own seat.
“Move along, go sit down,” the operator called out. “Four to a seat, please.”
“I want to sit on the outside,” Tristan said, scurrying to the far side of the bench.
“Me too.” Justin added, dropping into the other side.
Which left the middle for Kip and Nicole.
Kip didn’t look at Nicole as they sat down. The operator lowered the bar, they were secured in, and the wheel moved ahead to let the next group of four on.
“We’re going to be real high,” Tristan said, his voice full of awe. “It’s like we’re in another world.”
Kip sat back. Nicole did the same, just as the wheel jerked forward pushing them against each other.
“Sorry,” Kip said, trying to give her some space.
“Uncle Kip, you’re hogging my space,” Justin said.
There was no getting around it. He and Nicole were spending the next few minutes sitting close together. He looked over at her to gauge her reaction only to find her grinning at him.
“I guess we’re stuck together,” she said.
Kip grinned back. “I guess.” He didn’t look away, his mind flicking back to the kiss he had given her. He thought of her hand, encircling his wrist.
Then, before he could change his mind, he slipped his arm around her shoulders. “May as well get comfortable,” he said, and she didn’t p
ull away.
The wheel turned slowly around, each movement bringing them closer to the top. When it stopped there, the boys were speechless. Their seat swung a bit, suspended above the fairgrounds, removed from the noise and music. Like Tristan had said, it was as if they were in another world.
Nicole shivered, and Kip capitalized on that and pulled her closer. Her face, framed by her golden hair, was a pale silhouette against a starry sky.
Everything slipped away and it was as if they were the only two people in this endless space.
He leaned closer and she met him partway. Then he kissed her. Gently. Slowly.
He pulled away, a gentle sigh easing out of him. She didn’t look away. Neither did he. Their silence extended the moment. Then, with a jerk, the Ferris wheel moved along one more time.
Kip kept his arm around her and she reached up and caught his hand, as if anchoring him to her.
“Wow, this is so awesome,” Justin said, still looking over the edge.
“I love this,” Tristan replied from his seat.
“I know what they mean,” Kip murmured.
Though Nicole looked away from him, she tightened her grip on his hand.
The wheel was full and then they were moving steadily and with each revolution, at the top, Kip looked at Nicole and she looked at him. They didn’t repeat the kiss, but each time their eyes met it was as if they had.
And each time their eyes met Kip’s heart beat a little harder and his optimism burned a little brighter.
Could he and Nicole have a future?
Did he dare think that far?
Chapter Twelve
“Here’s your cowboy hat.” Kip took the white straw hat he had bought from the kiosk and dropped it on Nicole’s head. He lifted her chin with his knuckle, his rough skin rasping on hers. “There you go, Nicole Williams. Now you’re an Alberta cowgirl.”
“That sounds official.” Nicole pushed the hat further on her head, wishing her heart didn’t jump at his every touch.
“Auntie Nicole is a cowgirl.” Tristan jumped up and down.
“Now she has to go riding horses,” Justin said hopefully.
Nicole didn’t say anything to bolster his cause. She’d said quite enough to Kip already. And she had let Kip Cosgrove do quite enough, kissing her on the Ferris wheel.
She tried to remind herself that Kip wasn’t her friend.
She had discovered in the past few days, however, that he wasn’t her enemy either. He was simply a man doing what he was asked to do. A man living up to his responsibilities.
But the memory of that kiss and the utterly spontaneous one earlier lingered both in her mind and on her lips.
“We’re not talking about the horses now,” Kip said with a note of finality. “We’re going home. It’s way past your bedtime.”
The boys were obviously tired because they didn’t even argue as they trudged back to the truck. They got in and settled down for the long ride back.
Nicole tried not to look at Kip as he drove, his face illuminated by the glow of the dashboard lights. She tried to push the kiss to the back of her mind as she pulled herself back into reality mode.
She took her hat off and held it on her lap, as if easing away from the day—turning back into Nicole, the girl who wore business suits and high heels and attended business meetings. Not a cowgirl in blue jeans who let a man kiss her on the Ferris wheel.
“I was wondering if we could discuss my visit tomorrow,” Nicole said quietly after they reached the city limits. “I have a conference call in the late afternoon. Would it be possible to come in the morning?”
“You can’t,” Justin piped up from the backseat of the truck. “We go to church on Sunday.”
“Of course.” Nicole tapped her fingers on her arm, thinking. They’d gone last week while she was at the motel sending out flurries of emails about work.
“Why don’t you come to church with us?” Justin asked. “Then you can sit with us.”
“I’m not so sure—”
“Please come,” Tristan added. “It’s kind of long sometimes, but then we can see you in the morning too.”
Nicole’s resistance softened as she looked back at the boys, considering the invitation.
“You’re welcome to come,” Kip said quietly.
The last time Nicole had been in church was for her mother’s funeral. That service had been full of sorrow, regret and a heavy layer of guilt.
Though attending church would mean she’d see the boys, it would also mean seeing Kip.
That’s a dangerous place to go, she reminded herself. This evening was supposed to be a blip on your radar. An experience—a date—that she could put away in the memory chest.
“I’d like it if you could come,” Kip added, his voice quiet.
His comment, combined with his tender smile, swept away her resistance. “What time does the service start?”
“Ten o’clock.”
“I’ll see how my morning goes,” she said cautiously.
It was just church, she reminded herself as she sat back in the truck. Going back to church could be a good thing.
“I’m bored,” Justin said from the backseat. “And I don’t want to play I Spy again.”
Nicole twisted in her seat. “Do you guys know any songs? Maybe you could sing them for me.”
“I don’t like to sing,” Tristan said.
“I’m really bored,” Justin repeated.
Nicole pulled out her phone. “If you guys can share, I can show you a game that you can play on my phone.”
Their eyes grew to four large circles of surprise. “Really?”
“Cool.” Justin had his hand out for her phone.
“You can’t have it, I want it.”
Nicole hesitated looking from Justin to Tristan.
“You started something now,” Kip said. She could hear the smile in his voice.
“You’ll have to take turns,” she said. She turned on a timer function, started up the game and handed it to Tristan. “When this bell dings, then it’s Justin’s turn.”
“How come he gets to go first?” Justin whined.
“Because we love him more,” Kip said.
Nicole shot him look of shock. What was he doing? What was he saying? She was about to reprimand him when she heard Justin’s giggle.
“No, you don’t, Uncle Kip,” he said, completely unperturbed by the comment.
“Oh, yes, I do,” Kip said, glancing in his rearview mirror at his nephew.
“You love us both the same,” Tristan chimed in, quickly figuring out how to play the game.
Nicole tried to absorb what had happened. The boys were so utterly confident of their uncle’s love that his outrageous statement was greeted with humor.
Did those boys have any idea of how blessed they were, Nicole thought, her heart contracting with envy?
“Oops. I think I pushed the wrong button…hey, is this your house?” Justin held out the phone to Nicole. Somehow he had gotten into her picture file.
“Yes, that’s where I live. Here, let me find that game for you again.”
“Uncle Kip, look at Auntie Nicole’s house.” Justin held the phone toward Kip who dutifully glanced at it.
“Very nice. Very impressive,” he said in a tone that implied anything but.
“Do you have any other pictures?” Justin asked.
Nicole thought of the one photo she had of her father on her phone but felt a surprising reluctance to show them. Some of that had to do with the man sitting across the truck from her, frowning now. The other part was a reluctance to bring that part of her life into this moment.
“I’ll get you the game again,” she said, taking the phone and getting them back on track.
The boys took a couple of turns with her phone, their chatter slowly fading away. Half an hour later the phone lay between them and the only sound in the truck was their deep, rhythmic breathing. Nicole glanced into the vehicles passing them, the stores beyond the traffic
—everywhere but at the man driving the truck.
The man who had kissed her twice.
She’d been kissed before. It was nothing new. She’d be kissed again. Someday by the man she would marry.
Which wouldn’t happen anytime soon, she reasoned. Not when she had so much happening. The boys. Her father. Her job.
“I want to thank you,” Kip said, his deep voice breaking into her thoughts and pulling her attention back to him.
“For what?”
Kip was looking ahead at the flow of traffic, his face illuminated by the glow of the streetlights.
“For what you said about Scott and about guilt.” He turned his head, his eyes catching her gaze. “I guessed you know a bit about that too.”
Nicole sighed. “I do, or rather, I did.” What happened between her and Tricia was in the past.
“I’m guessing you’re talking about your sister.”
Nicole nodded.
“How did you two get along?” he asked, gently prying.
Nicole shrugged. “Tricia and I got along really great when she was a little girl.”
“And later?
“That’s when we started fighting.”
“About the usual girl stuff?”
She wished. “No. It was bigger than lipstick and borrowed blue jeans.”
“I’m guessing she was a rebellious person.”
Nicole shifted down into her seat, her eyes following the road. Against her will, scenes from the last time she saw her sister edged into her mind. The angry words she’d said. The accusations. Things she should never have said. “We had a nasty fight, and the next morning she was gone. I never heard anything from her after that.”
“She didn’t write your parents either. That must have been hard for them.”
“It was. My mother cried every night for months after Tricia left.”
“And your father?”
“It was especially hard for him. Tricia was his daughter and she was gone.”
“You make it sound like she was his only daughter.”
“I know she wasn’t…” Nicole shifted in her seat, wishing he would stop this line of questioning. “But I was his adopted daughter. Tricia was his natural child. Of course it would hurt that she chose to leave.”
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