by Tori Kayson
Her full pink lips rounded, her mouth an open circle. A single brow hiked. Would she acknowledge that he remembered her favorite treat?
“Peace off—” Before the words were out of his mouth, she’d snatched the bag from his fingers and pried it open.
“Thanks. You can’t imagine how badly I was craving these.” She popped a chocolate covered peanut candy in her mouth then held out the bag, tentative. As if she’d jerk her hand back if he accepted a piece.
He chuckled and shook his head, the swing bouncing a little as he added his weight. “No thanks. Those are for you.”
Smirking, she scooted over to the far edge of the bench, putting a mile between them. “I’ll share. Only a few though.”
“In that case…” He held out his hand.
She tapped a couple into his open palm, tickling his skin.
This woman tickled more than his skin, but being around her again opened a festering wound that had never completely healed. His hand curled around the candy. Best just to get it over with before courage deserted him.
“I’m sorry, Kierra.”
Her jaw stopped moving and she swallowed, the sound loud enough to compete with the snoring dogs and the cat’s purr.
“I wish I could go back and change some things.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Why would she feel that way? “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She chuckled, but the sound lacked mirth. Her coffee colored eyes drilled him to the deepest corner of the swing. “No, I wish you could go back and change some things.”
He grimaced. “I deserve that. Worse, actually.”
“Yes, you do.” A few more candies disappeared into her mouth. Anger simmered just under the surface, apparent in her stiff posture and the white knuckles gripping the swing’s chain, the jaw clenching as she chewed.
He was silent. What more could he say? He agreed with her. Besides, hadn’t he called himself a hundred kinds of fool over his actions?
The cat arched her back then hopped onto his lap. He rubbed the soft fur around the animal’s ears and chin, grateful for the small vote of support.
Kierra’s expression softened. She held up the bag. “But if you have more of these stashed away, that’ll definitely work in your favor this week.”
So, she hadn’t lost her sense of humor.
A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, relief lifting the heaviness that had settled on his chest. “Duly noted.”
He rocked the heel of his boot, setting the swing in motion. The white cat dug her claws into his thighs and launched from his lap to land on the belly of one of the sleeping dogs, then bounced off onto the porch and skittered into the yard. “Ouch. That had to hurt.”
The lazy dog just lifted his head and glanced around. Satisfied that he wasn’t being attacked, he dropped his head back down to the floor again.
“Hope and Charity are used to Sassy climbing all over them.”
“Your cat?”
She nodded, her expression clearly challenging him to say something derogatory.
Which meant he needed to get used to the plump feline climbing all over him. Not a problem. He didn’t mind cats. “I wish Cody could have a pet. Even if it was a cat.”
“Hey!” Her shoulder collided with his upper arm. “Be nice.”
“I thought I was being nice. I like cats.”
“You do?”
He nodded.
“Then why can’t Cody have a pet?”
“We’ve never lived in one place long enough to keep one.” No different from when he was a kid.
And, with every beat of his heart, he vowed to change that.
****
Kierra hid her whimper behind a fistful of candy, not trusting herself to speak. All she managed was a nod with watery eyes.
“They become part of your family, you know?” he said, a wistful smile curving his lips as he studied the dogs.
She nodded again, following his gaze to the dozing Koolies, one chocolate and white, the other black and white. Fargo had picked up the brothers from a preacher when they were just pups, and they spent as much time lazing on this porch as they did at Fargo and Darby’s house. And it would rip her heart out when Sassy passed. The former stray showed her gratitude for a warm, dry home by snuggling next to Kierra in bed every night.
There was a time when she’d imagined snuggling next to this man every night. Waking in the mornings, her arm stretched around his frame, her cheek nestled against his solid chest, listening to his heartbeat. Waiting for his eyelids to flicker open and for that wondrous smile to light his face.
But that was a lifetime ago. Before Hawk and Brigit’s happy announcement stomped on that dream and crushed it into the dirt.
Kierra squeezed her eyes shut, tamping the betrayal far back in the past where it belonged—where he belonged—refusing to show any weakness for the man. Hadn’t she already cried enough tears? Besides, Hawk was just passing through. She could deal with this cowboy long enough to snag that magazine feature, and then she’d tell him to take a hike.
She took a deep breath and almost choked on…him. Earthy and woodsy with a hint of the sea. As if she’d been transported to the beach, sand sifting through her toes, a salt breeze kissing her cheeks.
Her lids jerked open. Hawk had turned his head toward the pasture.
She stared at his profile. Vulnerability—or maybe it was love and anxiousness for the well-being of his son?—softened the chiseled lines of his jaw. Covered with a heavy smattering of whiskers now, but back then, he’d complained that he couldn’t grow facial hair except for that deep cleft just under his lower lip. Even now, her fingertips itched to go there, to explore the hollows and curves, to smooth away the worry lines on his forehead.
She tightened her grip around the swing’s chain. You are so over him, Kierra! Why are you torturing yourself? Stop it! That night was supposed to be special, a momentous occasion marking the next season of our lives together. But, no—
“I hope that’ll change soon.” He swung back to her, caught her staring. His cheeks softened even more and crinkles fanned out from those gorgeous silver eyes. His gaze traveled to her lips and settled, as if he planned on camping out there.
Fat chance, cowboy.
What had they been talking about? “Um…getting your suh—” she stumbled over the son word. She’d best stick to calling Cody by name— “getting Cody a pet?”
“Yeah.”
“But that would mean—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.
“Staying here.”
“In Coldwater Ridge?” she squawked. No! He was only passing through, right?
A tic hummed along his jaw. He nodded and stiffened his spine against the bench. “Cody needs a home and stability, Kierra. Do you know I’ve never seen him hanging out with a friend like this, just watching a movie?” He flashed a haunted look toward the screen door where the muted sounds of the television drifted outdoors. “He needs to live in one place long enough to sink roots, to laugh and play and run in his own yard. To bond with a pet, to be responsible for more than just him.”
His gaze jerked back to her, and he swallowed hard. “He needs a chance to make friends. To learn how to cherish relationships and special people.”
From the look Hawk gave her, she got the impression he wasn’t talking about Cody anymore.
The screen door flapped open, the obtrusive squeak shattering the moment like a thousand shards of glass.
“There you are.” Sterling’s expensive boots clomped across the wood planks of the porch. Still wearing his jacket and heavy starched button down shirt, he looked so…soft, so fake compared to the handsome cowboy taking up more than his share of the bench next to her. “Forgive the intrusion. Kierra, can you spare a few moments?”
Sterling sounded too refined, almost feminine, compared to the deep voice that rumbled from Hawk’s throat. Every time Hawk spoke a flutter started in the bottom of her belly and worked its way
up to light in her chest.
She needed to put a stop to that. Right. Now. “Sure.” Anything to break the intensity of Hawk’s gaze, to still the frantic rhythm of her heart every time his shoulder brushed hers. And to remind herself what happened when she allowed hormones to overrule her brain.
Hawk lifted himself off the swing, his fingertips grazing her thigh as he stood, scorching her last thought. “I better get Cody settled in for the night.”
“Hawk?”
His fingers were already curled around the doorknob, but he turned.
She held up the nearly empty bag of candy. “Thanks.”
He smiled and disappeared inside the house to collect his son.
His son. Just remember that, Kierra. His son. Cody could’ve been ours, but Hawk made his choice and it wasn’t you. Don’t even think about giving him your heart so he can stomp all over it again.
****
“I like it here, Dad.”
Of course he did. Hawk knew that would be the case. He tucked the blanket under Cody’s chin and sank down on the futon next to the air mattress. “You do?”
“Yeah. Jayce is cool. We’re hanging out again tomorrow. He said he’d help me learn to rope a calf. Can we stay here?”
“That’s the plan.” Until tomorrow, at least. That’s all he could promise.
“No. I mean, can we stay here for good?”
For good? With Brigit’s track record, staying in one place for longer than six months was as probable as a second chance with Kierra. And after seeing how her face lit up when that wannabe cowboy stepped outside in those fancy crocodile skin boots and too-tight, heavy starched, button up shirt, that chance was as slim as a stick of gum.
He almost laughed. But he couldn’t bear to spoil Cody’s earnest expression. “I’d like that too. Tell you what. When I get back from the round up, we’ll celebrate in our new place. You can invite Jayce to spend the night. We’ll get pizza and you two can watch a movie. Maybe I can talk your mom into letting you stay longer than a weekend.” Not likely. But he’d give it a go. Anything for his son. “How’s that sound?”
“Super!” Cody squeaked and pumped a fist above the blanket, his face lit up brighter than a Christmas tree in a dark family room. But after a couple seconds, the grin slipped a fraction. “But what about Mom? Think she’ll want to stay?”
Brigit? Stay in one place with one guy? Not likely. For the two years they’d been married, Hawk had ignored her affairs and nursed her through her drunken binges for Cody’s sake. But she’d deserted him, anyway. “I can’t vouch for her, son.”
A heavy sigh lifted the blanket. Moisture tinged Cody’s lashes and shimmered on smooth cheeks. “I don’t want to go back to her house tomorrow. Jimmie’s there all the time. I don’t like him. Why can’t I live with you, Dad?”
Hawk rubbed his son’s damp hair, breathed in the clean scent of soap clinging to Cody’s skin. He loved this time with his son, but loathed this helpless feeling that swallowed him whole when Cody begged to stay with him.
He’d pleaded with Brigit to keep her relationships separate from Cody until they became serious. But his appeals seemed only to make her more determined to bring every guy home with her.
It was past time to make an appointment with an attorney which meant this job had to work.
“I love you, Cody, and you know that’s what I want too. If I can make it happen, I will, but it’s not all up to me.” What judge would grant custody to a chopper cowboy? A man who spent more time in the sky following dusty trails of thousands of cattle than in an actual house? But, he would do whatever was needed. Fork over his entire savings on an expensive, well-respected attorney. Hire a live-in nanny instead of the more reasonable priced sitter who’d agreed to keep Cody overnight whenever Hawk was out on the trail. Whatever.
A blob of moisture trailed down Cody’s cheek. A giant sob tremored through his small chest.
“It’s gonna be all right, Son. You’ll see.” Hawk hugged his son until the tremors subsided.
Finally, Cody sniffled and dropped back down on the mattress.
“Sleep tight. I’m going to sit outside for a few minutes. Want me to leave the door open?” Hawk adjusted the blanket around the little guy and stood.
“Yes, please.” Cody’s lanky legs reached to the end of the makeshift mattress. The boy might be growing up fast, but he still wanted the reassurance of his father’s presence.
“You got it, buddy.” Hawk poured a fresh cup of coffee, the strong scent permeating the small space, and opened the only door.
With all the yammering going on in his head, he needed time to think. Cody’s unhappiness at Brigit’s. Another new job. Being back in Coldwater Ridge, the only place he’d ever felt like he truly belonged, largely due to the Kester family. Seeing Kierra again, all those unresolved feelings and unmet expectations thundering to the surface. The dark Texas sky and the peaceful wide open space of the ranch called his name.
Lodged in the doorway, Hawk glanced back at his son. Cody’s lashes fluttered closed, confident in Hawk’s promise.
Would it be all right? The words ricocheted through his gut like angry bullets.
Hawk eased the door, leaving a crack, and sank into an Adirondack chair next to the shed. He nudged the bucket of sand loaded with cigarette butts away with the tip of his boot and ticked off his plan.
First, excel at this job. Without it, along with a good word from Fargo, Hawk didn’t stand a chance with a judge.
Next, persuade Brigit to give him full custody. She’d always shot down his arguments before, but he had to try again.
If she refused, was he willing to expose her revolving door of boyfriends and alcohol abuse problem to a judge?
No. He wouldn’t lash out at his ex-wife that way. Not unless Cody’s well-being was compromised. Right now, other than Cody’s general unhappiness with the situation, he just couldn’t.
Hawk huffed and scraped a frustrated hand across his jaw then slurped the coffee. The liquid scalded his throat. He stared at the lights in the sprawling ranch house as they flickered off one by one.
It was up to Hawk to prove that he could stay in one place, even if it cost him temporarily. If that meant groveling at Kierra’s feet, hearing her laugh at every stupid joke that wannabe cowboy cracked or latching onto the dude’s arm as if she couldn’t walk on her own, he’d just have to suck it up.
He would do what he could to lighten her load during this trip. Keep her coffee cup filled, cook her meals and bring them to her on a china plate if that’s what it took for her to understand how important this job was for him and Cody. He couldn’t afford to lose it based on stupid decisions he’d made in the past.
Cody needed permanency. Shoot, Hawk needed it.
A sliver of a breeze wisped over him, bringing the sweet fragrance of roses. A remnant of Kierra’s perfume lingering on his clothes? He breathed deep, stared up at the stars splattered across the black expansive sky. A horse whinnied from the pasture, content, at peace.
Hawk felt it too. It seeped into his weary spirit, that small whisper of reassurance, that he could do this. He could work the rest of his career on Kester Ranch and never tire of this view. Especially if Kierra was here.
The only problem would be losing his heart to her all over again.
3
She couldn’t do this.
Kierra hitched the heel of her boot on the fence rung, a stainless steel travel mug with strong coffee in one hand and her tablet in the other. With a small huff, she glanced up at the sun, squinting against the bright morning glare, and prayed for fortitude.
Not a cloud marred the sky for the first day of their two-day skills clinic for the ranch guests. A good sign for the week to come, and she could use one. Especially after all the glares Hawk was flashing in Sterling’s direction.
The cowboy might be a hitch in her wagon this week.
Sighing, she gulped down a swig of coffee and set the tablet on the ground next to the fence post, in
haling the comforting ranch smells. Cattle kicking up dirt, fresh cut grass, leather and sweat. What might be earthy and musky to others always grounded her, whispered home to her spirit.
She could do this. She didn’t have a choice. Not if they wanted to keep the ranch.
Her attention refocused on the enclosure where the guests practiced penning and sorting cattle. Fargo and Hawk were patient teachers, surprisingly so, considering Fargo’s orneriness about the business. Her younger brother, Slade, and nephew, Jayce, also assisted with the stubborn animals. Her job was to organize the cowboys and cowgirls by skills level so they knew what they were working with on the trail.
Boots shuffled through the grass and arms plunked along the fence rail next to her. Her mother appeared in a dressy blouse and jeans, minus the ever-present apron. “How’s everything going?”
“All right. Should be an interesting week.” Interesting? More like disastrous. Kierra forced a smile. “Where are you off to all gussied up?”
Her mother snorted. “The grocery store. Where else?”
“I’d come and help if I could.”
“I know, darling. It’s all right.” She hugged Kierra’s waist, her gaze skimming the cowboys and cowgirls dodging the mass of cattle, laughing and hollering. “How’s he doing?”
“Sterling? He’s actually not as bad as you’d think. And I know Fargo’s glad he finally ditched the—”
“No. Not Sterling. Hawk.”
“Hawk?” Kierra whipped around to gape at her mother. Why would she want to know how Hawk was doing?
Her mother waited for a response, eyebrows lifted.
Kierra licked her lips. Tugged her hat farther down on her forehead. Tapped out a rhythm on the fence rail with her boot. “Hawk’s already a cowboy. He goes under the advanced category.” Advanced. As in more than capable of separating cattle. More than capable of…kissing.
Whoa! She so didn’t want to go back there! She closed her eyes and shook her head, derailing that train before it had a chance to pick up steam.
“So, he found you last night?”
