Читать книгу Cowboy Courage - Judy Duarte, Judy Duarte - Страница 10

Cole McAdams slammed his hand on the dashboard of the vintage truck. If Brady Cooper so much as laid a finger on his sister, he’d beat him senseless.

It was a good thing Cole had given Ben and Evie down at the Long Shot his cell phone number. It’s the only way they would have been able to track him down. He hadn’t been home since he took his daughter to the Petersons’ house to spend the day and night.

Thank God. He would have been in a real quandary if Beth had been home. A five-year-old child had no business at a bar fight.

Cole barreled down the long driveway and turned onto the county road that would take him to the Long Shot. He wasn’t about to let Brady Cooper continue to push his sister around.

What made a woman stay with a man who mistreated her? Or leave one who treated her well, for that matter?

Cole’s ex-wife had bailed out on him, and he’d been damn good to her. He would have done anything to make her and their daughter happy. But she’d hightailed it out of town and left little Beth teary-eyed and him feeling betrayed.

And drowning in debt.

Cole gripped the steering wheel tightly, as he thought about the bills that began coming in after she’d gone. Apparently, she’d applied for credit cards he hadn’t known about then run each one to the hilt before taking off. And because Cole had taken a large mortgage on the ranch several years ago to pay off a couple of foolhardy investments his father had made prior to passing away, things looked bleak.

His accountant, a conservative family friend, had suggested bankruptcy as a solution, but Cole wasn’t a quitter. He refused the well-intentioned advice. Instead, he worked out a plan using some creative financial juggling, then sold off most of the stock and some of the finest cutting horses in the state. It nearly killed him to see it all go to auction, but he’d managed to hold the creditors at bay and decrease the mortgage by half.

He had just enough cash left to keep him and Beth afloat until the next yearling auction in the spring. Cutting horses held only a certain value in Texas, where they were considered a useful commodity. But in California, wealthy professionals would pay a dear price to own a high-quality horse, and Cole had quickly cashed in on that trend.

He’d lost nearly everything except ten of his finest brood-mares he’d kept to slowly replenish his stock, including what he believed was his ace in the hole—Sugar Foot, the best little mare ever to run cattle. She was due to foal any day, and his hopes of a comeback rested upon that colt or filly.

It had been a long, hard road back from financial ruin. But Cole was determined to make it, and he wasn’t about to lose anything else. Not his ranch, and not his daughter. He had gathered most of his spare cash to pay a high-priced city lawyer a small fortune to ensure Beth remained with him.

He’d never forgive his ex-wife for leaving. Or for coming back to Tannen, thinking she deserved a relationship with the child she’d abandoned. Kerri-Leigh said the woman had changed, but Cole didn’t believe it. And even if she had, he’d never be able to trust her again. Honesty, like family loyalty, was sacred to him.

The custody fight could get ugly, the attorney had warned him. And more costly. But Cole didn’t care. His ex-wife wasn’t going to slip back into their lives as if she’d only gone to the market. Sure, she’d called him six months before to say she was sorry, but Cole wouldn’t accept her apology. Or let her speak to Beth.

He sighed. For a man who had always tried hard to do the right thing, his life was almost as messed up as Kerri-Leigh’s.

Cole spotted the entrance to the Long Shot and tensed his jaw. He turned into the dusty parking lot just as the white Expedition pulled onto the highway. Apparently, the classy blonde had decided to stop there to eat. He wondered if she had left after seeing the inside of the place, or whether Brady and his big mouth had scared her off. Well, it was for the best. A woman like her didn’t need to see the sordid side of life.

Cole parked behind Brady’s beat-up Plymouth, jumped out of the truck, and marched through the entrance. The front door slammed behind him, nearly jarring the small replica of a cowbell from its overhead perch.

Every head in the diner turned to look at Cole. Every head but Kerri-Leigh’s.

Brady slid from the booth where he’d been hunched over a beer and stood. “What’s your problem? Ain’t you got any manners?”

Cole clenched his fists at his side and narrowed his eyes. “Where is she?”

Brady snorted and nodded toward the rear of the bar, where a blonde stood by the jukebox, her back to the room.

The woman fidgeted, then slowly turned around.

When Brady saw her face, his eyes widened, and his mouth dropped. “You’re not Kerri-Leigh. What in the hell are you doing in her clothes? And where is she?” Brady threw a half-empty bottle of beer against the wall. “Damn it all to hell. She just left wearin’ your clothes!”

Cole was nearly as gape-eyed as Brady when he recognized the lady from the filling station. She’d let down her hair, removed the dark glasses, and changed her clothes, but it was her, all right. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he figured the blond stranger had helped his sister escape. And from the look of fury in Brady’s bloodshot eyes, the woman had set herself up to receive a beating meant for Kerri-Leigh.

As Brady staggered toward her, she swallowed hard.

Cole shook his head, then intercepted Brady in one fluid movement.

Not intimidated, Brady stood tall and doubled up a fist. “Get out of my way, McAdams. I’m gonna find out what’s goin’ on.”

Cole grabbed a handful of Brady’s shirt and jerked him forward. “Don’t even think about touching her.”

“Or what?” Brady bellowed.

Cole smelled the stench of stale alcohol and grimaced. “Don’t push me, Brady.”

The drunk laughed, then swung a meaty fist at Cole. Drunk or sober, Brady wasn’t a match for a man who’d gotten damn tired of seeing his sister bullied. One swift left hook, and the big man staggered, then dropped to the ground. Blood pooled around his mouth, and bloodshot eyes rolled back in his head.

Cole glanced up to see the blonde hand Ben a twenty. “Would you call me a cab?”

“A cab? Out here?” Ben looked out the front window, then shook his head slowly. “Could take the rest of the afternoon, but I’ll give it a try.”

A flash of lightning cracked across the sky, and Cole ambled toward the woman who had helped his sister. “Don’t bother with a cab. I’ll give you a ride.”

When the thunder rolled, she worried her lip.

“I’m Cole McAdams, Kerri-Leigh’s brother. She’d want me to look after you.”

She glanced up at him with expressive green eyes. Worry and relief seemed to battle inside the emerald depths, then she sighed softly. “Kerri-Leigh said you were a nice guy.”

Ben cleared his throat and handed her money back. “Ain’t no one more honorable than Cole McAdams, ma’am. You can trust him.”

She nodded slowly, then tucked a long strand of golden hair behind her ear.

“Where are you headed?” Cole asked, not giving her a chance to change her mind. The sky had been darkening since noon. He could smell the rain coming and sensed an especially fierce torrent.

“To town, I guess. I need a room for the night.”

Another lightning bolt lit the room, followed by the roar of thunder. And as if the sky had opened up, the rain began to pour.

“Storm’s here,” Ben said. “And it’s flash-flood season.”

Cole figured he could get the woman to town before the road washed out, but he doubted he could make it back to the ranch. “I’ve got a spare room. You can stay at my place.”

She seemed reluctant, then looked over her shoulder at the lighted television screen over the bar. She shot a wounded glance his way. “All right. But just for tonight.”

Cole nodded. “I introduced myself, but you haven’t.”

Green eyes, large, luminous and doelike pierced his. “Laurie,” she said softly. “Laurie Smith.”

He sensed a courageous vulnerability about her and wanted to ease her mind. “I appreciate you helping my sister, Laurie.”

She offered a warm but weary smile. “She tried to climb out the ladies’ room window. I couldn’t help her squeeze through, so I came up with another plan.”

“You loaned her your car, too, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “When Brady bellowed at me, I must admit the whole idea seemed more than a little foolish. He’s a pretty scary guy.” She glanced at the prostrate form. “Although he doesn’t look so menacing now.”

“Barroom brawls aren’t anything new to Brady Wilson. He’s been in one scrap or another since he outgrew diapers.” Cole smiled, then nodded toward the door. “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here. The rain’s already starting to come down pretty hard.”

“I need to get my bags from the ladies’ room,” she said.

When she returned, a black canvas bag slung over her shoulder, Ben’s wife, Evie, called from the kitchen. “Just a minute. I’ve got your sandwich ready.”

“Thank you.” Laurie collected a brown bag from Evie, and handed the woman a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

She followed Cole outside, and they paused under the porch roof, watching the rain stream down.

“Wait here,” Cole said. “I’ll get the door.”

He hurried through the parking lot, climbed into his red Chevy, then leaned across the seat and opened the passenger door for her.

“Nice truck,” she said, climbing inside.

“Thanks.”

As Cole backed out of the parking lot and pulled onto the highway, he turned the radio on low. He slid a glance at Laurie. She sat quietly on her side of the truck, nearly hugging the door as though they’d drawn a chalk line down the center. Awkward and cautious. He figured they both felt the same way.

He stole another glance as she peeked into the brown bag Ben had given her, then folded it shut and leaned against the window. She blinked before slowly closing her eyes.

Too tired to eat, he surmised. There was a lot she hadn’t told him. And probably never would. Of course, her worries and her past weren’t any of his business. But she had stepped in to help Kerri-Leigh in a move that might have saved his sister’s life. When drunk, Brady had leveled men twice Kerri-Leigh’s size. And the last time he’d lost his temper with Kerri-Leigh, she’d ended up in the hospital and he in jail.

No telling what Brady would have done to her this time. Thank God—and the stranded woman sitting beside him— Kerri-Leigh had got away before Brady had the chance to lay a hand on her.

Again Cole studied the pretty woman on the other side of the seat. Thick dark lashes rested upon her cheeks. She didn’t look a thing like his sister—not up close. Kerri-Leigh had freckles across the bridge of an upturned nose and distinct dark brows. Laurie, her complexion soft and flawless, boasted an aristocratic nose and delicate, light brows that arched perfectly.

And where Kerri-Leigh was round and soft, Laurie was long and lean. Too thin, if you asked Cole. Fashionable, maybe, but he’d always liked the soft feel of a real woman, not a willowy, reed-thin model.

The soft feel of a woman? What in tarnation was wrong with him? He had no business even thinking of this woman in a physical sense. Laurie Smith was a stranger, in his life for a day or so, then on her way.

The faint, musky scent of an exotic floral perfume began to fill the cab, drawing his attention to the blond head resting against the passenger window. She had fallen asleep, her breath fogging the glass.

Laurie Smith, she’d called herself, but Cole didn’t buy it. Not for a minute. He tried to remind his skeptical side that this stranger had helped his sister. And if she held on to her own secrets, that was her business. He had his own problems to worry about. He’d won the first round of the custody battle, but according to his lawyer, there were more battles to come.

Rain beat down upon the roof, then streamed along the windows. Cole hoped they could make it through the dry river bottom before the road washed out.

The windshield wipers squeaked and swished back and forth across the rain-sloshed glass. Cole turned up the volume of the radio, and the mournful sounds of a fiddle filled the cab.

Then a slow Southern voice began to sing the praises of a honky-tonk hero.

Laurie felt a tapping on her shoulder and awoke with a jump. She blinked twice before realizing she sat inside Cole McAdams’s truck.

Outside, the rain pelted the exterior, but in the warmth of the cab, he watched her with eyes as clear and blue as a Texas summer. A worn Stetson rode easy on his head, while dark curls peeked out from under the brim. He had a strong, angular face, tanned by the elements. She found his expression hard to read and hoped she hadn’t made a big mistake leaving with him.

“Let’s go inside,” he said, his voice a deep Southern drawl. “We’re home.”

Wherever home was. Laurie tried to peer out the windows of the truck, but even if she could have seen through the fogged glass, the rain blurred her view. “Where are we?” she asked, reaching for her bags.

“My ranch just outside of town. Near the river bottom and close to the foothills.”

Laurie nodded, still unsure of the location. Since yesterday afternoon, she’d passed through so many small towns and cities, she couldn’t remember the name of the last place she’d stopped.

As she fumbled for the door handle, he spoke again. “Just slide out this side. It’s closer, and you won’t get as wet.” His voice was easy on her ears, comforting actually. In fact, his entire being held her attention.

She studied Kerri-Leigh’s brother as he climbed from the truck. Tall, ruggedly handsome, dressed in denim jeans and a chambray shirt, he embodied the image of an American hero. A cowboy, she decided, even though it had been ages since she’d seen one in the flesh.

Oblivious to the rain pelting his hat and spotting his shirt, he flashed her a grin. “I can carry you in, but you’re going to get wet either way.”

Yes, Cole McAdams was a cowboy, through and through.

“Thanks for the offer,” Laurie said. “But I’ll walk.”

As she slid across the seat, he reached for her hand and helped her out. His grip was callused, but gentle. Warm to the touch.

They ran to the porch, but by the time the cowboy opened the door and Laurie stepped inside, they were drenched.

Water dripped upon concrete flooring that looked more like a tawny, earth-toned Spanish tile. Laurie glanced at the puddle at her feet, then caught his eye. “I’m sorry about the mess.”

“It’ll mop up easy enough.”

She scanned the wood-paneled walls of the living room until her eyes lit upon a rock fireplace with an intricate, carved-oak mantle.

Amazing, she thought, as she continued to study the layout of a home that held the charm of a log cabin, the windows of a mountain chateau and the artistry of an architectural showcase. Rough, yet stylish. Spacious, yet intimate. Cole McAdams’s home bore a simple, raw elegance Laurie found appealing.

He must have noticed her fascination. “What’s the matter?”

“Your house is so…interesting.”

He shrugged. “I like it.”

“I do, too,” she said, hoping he hadn’t misunderstood her reaction. “Who was your decorator?” The question seemed natural to Laurie. Where she’d come from, people paid professionals a small fortune to create a home that reflected the personality and style of the occupants.

“I designed it myself.”

She must have dropped her jaw, because he laughed while hanging his wet hat on a rough-hewn coatrack in the entry.

“Well, shucks, ma’am.” His voice took on a sharp, expressive twang. “Y’all didn’t think we was so backwards in Texas that we thought indoor plumbin’ was as good as it gets, did ya?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to appear surprised that you could have created this. It’s just that I’ve never really cared for Southwestern style, but this is great.”

“This isn’t Southwestern style. It’s just my home.” He took her elbow. “Come on, I’ll show you to the bathroom. You can take a shower, if you’d like. And get out of those wet clothes.”

Laurie allowed him to guide her steps, as she continued her perusal of his home. Even the plain white walls appeared to be a work of art.

He paused at a linen closet and pulled out a towel and washcloth, then ushered her into a spacious bathroom. Clean and neat. Cole may have designed his own home, but Laurie doubted he kept things tidy all by himself. “How will your wife feel about me staying here?” she asked.

His jaw tensed. “I don’t have a wife.” Then, as if realizing she’d caught sight of something he hadn’t meant her to see, he quickly changed the subject. “Do you need anything?”

Laurie glanced down at her purse and the gym bag she’d lugged into the bathroom and placed on the floor. A stripe of yellow inside the tote reminded her of the envelope she’d tucked inside, but she chose to ignore that for now. She didn’t want to be reminded of Daniel or the problems awaiting her in California, if only for a day.

Her immediate concern was to get out of the wet clothes and shower. But all she had to change into was a pair of black leotards and a crop top, which certainly didn’t seem to be appropriate apparel on a stormy evening in a strange house with a man she didn’t know. “Do you have a robe or something I can use until my clothes dry?”

He nodded, set the towel and washcloth on the counter, then reached to turn on the faucets. “It takes a while for the water to heat up. I’ll get you a robe.” His gaze swept the length of her, pausing at her torso. You’ll have to cinch it up some.”

Had she imagined his eyes lingering on her breasts? Surely not, but she suddenly felt self-conscious, lacking something but not sure what. Before she could give it much thought, he handed her a thick, Turkish robe, then eased out of the room and shut the door.

Alone. Laurie sighed and looked through a large picture window that offered a view of a small outdoor garden of jungle-green ferns and red hibiscus. Resting her hands upon the cool tile counter, she stared blankly into the mirror. Who was the woman she saw before her?

Within minutes, hot water sprayed from the shower head while Laurie continued to stand before a fog-enshrouded image. A long-haired, ghostlike figure stared back at her. Fingering the fluffy white towel lying upon the beige countertop, Laurie hid a wry smile. She might look a fright, but there was definitely an upside.

Laurie Smith didn’t look at all like the sophisticated Lauren Taylor.

As Cole stepped onto the bath mat and reached for a towel, he realized that just down the hall, Laurie Smith was in a similar state of undress. He imagined her body, tall and lean, moving sensuously through the fog and steam, water and soap sluicing over bare skin. The erotic image aroused him, reminded him he was not only a single dad, but a man who hadn’t had a woman in a while.

He grumbled. Even though Beth wasn’t home and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning, he was a dad first and a man second. Besides, having a houseguest was no big deal. He’d only provided temporary accommodations for Kerri-Leigh’s friend—a woman who had helped his sister when he hadn’t been able to do so himself.

Lightning flashed, and as the thunder began to roll, the light in the bathroom went out.

Damn. He’d better get out the candles. This was going to be one heck of a storm. The sun had yet to go down, but the darkened sky threatened an even darker night, especially without electricity.

Cole grabbed his shirt and jeans from the countertop and slipped them on. He left the steamy room and returned to the kitchen where he kept a flashlight. Within minutes, he had lit candles and placed them throughout the house.

He wondered how many of his neighbors would be without power. Beth was still afraid of the dark. Using the cell phone he wore on his belt, Cole called the Petersons, wanting to assure himself that his daughter was all right.

“Hi, Cole,” Susan Peterson said, when he greeted her with a question. “No, we’re not having a power outage here. I’ve made spaghetti for dinner, and if the girls help with the dishes, we’re going to bake cupcakes.”

He sighed, and gripped the small receiver. “Good. The electricity is out here. Give me a call if you have a problem.”

“You’re not worried, are you?”

Of course, he was worried. He was a father, wasn’t he? And worry was part of the job description. “I know she’s safe with you.”

Susan laughed. “Good. We’ll talk to you tomorrow, Cole.”

“Yeah, right. Goodbye,” he said, as he hung up the phone.

Alone in the house with a strange woman. Heck, he hadn’t even had a familiar woman here since his ex-wife ran off. Other than Susan Peterson, Beth’s preschool teacher, and Consuela, who helped around the house once a week, he didn’t have many chances to speak to women. Not that it mattered. He and Beth did just fine without having one around on a daily basis.

Lightning cracked and flashed. Of all nights to entertain a stranger. No television, no stereo. What were they supposed to do until bedtime? And how was he going to feed her if she was hungry?

He had an old camp stove in the garage. And a lantern. He hadn’t been camping in ages. It might even be fun, assuming Laurie Smith wasn’t one to complain.

She had yet to come out of the bathroom. What took women so long in there?

Cole crouched before the hearth and lit a fire. Thank goodness he had plenty of wood to heat the house and keep them warm throughout the night.

He was just about to rustle up some food from the kitchen when she walked into the living room, barefoot, a towel wrapped like a turban on her head. His oversized robe covered her tall, lithe body, and her skin bore a pink tinge from the heat of the shower.

Even without makeup or any of the usual feminine accessories to accentuate her looks, she emanated an essence of womanly beauty Cole had never seen before. And he felt a stirring he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

She’d taken a shower alone, and he was struck with a sudden pang of longing, wishing he’d been in there with her. Lathered her body with an expensive bar of nature-scented soap. Run his hands over her slick, clean skin.

For Pete’s sake. He didn’t need arousing images plaguing him throughout the evening. He gave his head a mental shake, hoping Laurie didn’t have a clue as to what he’d been thinking. What was the matter with him? He wasn’t looking for a one-night stand. And this woman wasn’t going to be around long enough to see if an attraction was mutual or lasting.

“Electricity went out,” he said, trying to find a safe topic of conversation.

“I noticed.” She glanced around the room, her eyes settling on the candles he’d placed on the mantle and the glass-topped coffee table. “It looks as though you’re prepared.”

“I used to be a Boy Scout,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound trite or…. Or what? Like an adolescent with hormones raging out of control?

She smiled softly. “What was it like?”

“What was what like?” Being a Boy Scout? Or a randy teenager? Cole had a hard time keeping his mind on a decent conversation when his libido wanted to reach for the tie on the robe she wore and pull her to him, open the terrycloth gap and slip his hands—

“Being a Boy Scout,” she said. “Camping, fishing, hiking. Tying knots.”

Knots? Like the loose one that held that robe together? He didn’t answer for fear he’d stammer like a teenager under the influence of testosterone.

“I’d always wanted to be a Girl Scout, but my aunt didn’t think it was appropriate.” She sighed, her eyes wistful and momentarily lighting upon the fire he’d built. Then she returned her gaze to his. “Did you get to go on any camping trips?”

“Quite a few.”

She nodded, a glimmer of admiration in her eye.

When her stomach growled, he remembered she’d carried her lunch out of the Long Shot and felt derelict in his duties as a host. “I left your sandwich in the kitchen. I can get it for you, or you can share my meal. I thought I’d set up a camp stove on the patio and fix something to eat.”

“A camp stove?” Her hand went to her stomach as though she meant to hold back another pang of hunger, but her eyes brightened like a kid’s at Christmas.

Somehow, Cole didn’t think the classy lady he’d seen at the gas station would get excited about cooking over a butane flame. She’d appeared sophisticated, certainly not the kind to like hot dogs stuck on a straightened coat hanger and dangled over a fire. Or to enjoy eating melted s’mores and sipping strong coffee from a tin cup. But apparently, she had a childlike spirit of adventure. He grinned. “I’ll bring in the stove and we can camp out, right here in the living room.”

You’d have thought he’d offered to take her to dinner at the Ritz by the way her smile lit the room. “It sounds like fun.”

And interestingly enough, Cole thought so, too.

In record time, he had the sliding door open, the cook stove lit and two ribeyes sizzling in a cast-iron skillet.

Laurie sat upon the floor in front of the fireplace, legs crossed and her knees peeping out of that darn robe. She’d taken the towel off her head and run a brush through the wet strands, allowing them to dry by the heat of the fire.

The light of the flames glistened off the gold tresses, and when she leaned forward, the robe gaped open, revealing a soft mound of flesh that would fit easily in a man’s hand. He tried to remind himself that he wasn’t attracted to model-thin women, that his ex-wife had grown too thin, right before she’d run off. But there was nothing thin or lacking softness in the rounded flesh that was just visible through the robe.

Cole found it nearly impossible to stay on task. Just how on earth was he supposed to watch over two steaks when a nearly naked woman sat just beyond reach? He might have achieved the rank of Eagle Scout, but he certainly wasn’t prepared for this.

Maybe Kerri-Leigh had been right. She’d once told him he needed to find a woman who would agree to a commitment-free sexual relationship. But Cole was from the old school. He thought sexual relationships should have a few strings attached. And besides, he sure as hell didn’t need to complicate his life with a woman right now. Especially one who was out of his league.

“Cole, are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”

Help what? Relieve his crazy longing? No, Laurie Smith could only offer temporary assistance and long-term remorse. He chided himself for letting his mind wander from a polite discussion to thoughts he shouldn’t have. He knew the only help she meant was with the meal. “No, the steaks are done, but you can set the table.” He nodded toward the big glass coffee table in front of the sofa.

Her eagerness surprised him. What was going on in her head? he wondered. Was she some kind of adventuress who had never experienced the reality of middle class? Cole hoped not. He’d tried damn hard to shake a redneck upbringing. Still, he didn’t belong in her world, not even for one rainy night.

“The table’s ready,” she called out happily from the living room.

A candle served as a centerpiece, and paper towels had a double role as place mats and napkins. Her smile appeared sincere, and Cole hoped she wasn’t like Marie Antoinette, who had set up a peasant village in the back of the palace so she could play the part of a milkmaid.

He carried the steaks into the living room on the tin plates he kept stored in the garage with the camping gear.

A battery-operated lantern sat on an end table and cast a soft light around the room, but it was Laurie’s happy glow that drew his attention. “Umm. It looks good,” she said. Her eyes glistened.

For some reason he couldn’t quite figure out, it pleased him to know she found pleasure in the camping ambiance. And it surprised him. He wanted to know more about this woman. “So, what brings you to Texas?”

Her smile waned, and she reached for the paper towel that lined her lap. “Nothing in particular. I suppose I’m just passing through.”

Cole’s brow furrowed. “Sounds like you’re running away from something.”

The childlike pleasure left her face, and she twisted the napkin in her hands. “I guess I am at that.” She glanced up at him, green eyes big, luminous. Waiflike.

Cole wanted to ask, from what? Or from whom? But he wasn’t one to pry. Besides, he valued his privacy and could understand her desire to do the same. Still, he couldn’t help his curiosity. Maybe she would find a lonely, stormy evening conducive to talk.

Rain pounded the roof and windows, the wind blew through the trees, the fire crackled while burning hard oak logs, yet the two strangers continued to eat in silence.

Then, for some reason known only to her, she began to speak. And Cole found himself listening intently.

“I was engaged to be married,” she began, “to a man who thought I’d make a good wife.”

Cole cocked his head to the side, not sure what she was going to say. He hated to think she’d done the same thing to her fiancé as his wife had done to him. “I take it you didn’t want to make him a good wife.”

“Oh, but I did,” she began. “I’d have done anything for him. I’ve always been compliant, easy to get along with. In fact, too compliant and easy to get along with.”

Cole wasn’t following her reasoning, but he didn’t say anything. He just sat there like a high-priced shrink.

“That’s apparently what he liked about me.” She offered a weak smile. “He’s having an affair with a married friend of mine.”

“Ouch,” Cole said.

Laurie set her fork down and placed her elbows on the table. “You know, if I’d been deeply in love with him, it would have been devastating. As it is, I just feel used, betrayed. Taken advantage of.” She searched his face as though looking for understanding, and he hoped she found it. “For fifteen years, I’ve tried hard to do everything expected of me, to show my appreciation to my aunt for adopting me.”

“What happened to your parents?”

“I never knew my dad. When Mom died, I was orphaned and alone. According to Aunt Caroline, she rescued me from foster care. And she never let me forget it.”

Cole wondered how his daughter would feel if something happened to him. He’d done everything in his power to ensure his ex-wife would never have custody of Beth. But, should something happen to Cole, his daughter would most likely end up in the system. Unless, of course, Kerri-Leigh managed to get her life in order first, but that possibility didn’t provide him with much comfort. As much as he loved his sister, she didn’t always make the right choices. Without Cole, Beth’s options were limited. “Foster care must have been tough.”

“Losing my mother was worse. And scary.”

Cole nodded, feeling sorry for another motherless child. But life wasn’t always fair. He’d learned that early.

Laurie stood. “I had hoped Aunt Caroline would be like a mother to me, but it never happened.” As though trying to change the subject, she began picking up the plates and plastic ware. “I’ll wash the dishes.”

“I’ll help.” Cole grabbed the lantern and led the way to the kitchen.

As Laurie followed him, she found it hard to believe she had revealed so much to a man who, only hours ago, had been a complete stranger. He wasn’t much less of one now, but he’d been a good listener, and there weren’t many people who had ever really cared about her feelings or desires. In fact, other than Cole tonight, Michael Harper was the only one in recent years who’d cared. Michael was one of the finest doctors around and a good friend, but she couldn’t very well go to him now. It was his wife who was having an affair with Daniel.

Laurie placed the dishes in the sink and found a bottle of soap on the counter. She turned on the water and watched the bubbles form.

“I was going to take the stove back to the garage,” the tall, lean cowboy said as he sauntered back into the kitchen. “But I had another idea. How about some hot cocoa?”

Laurie looked up, amazed at the way his presence filled the room. Cole McAdams was a striking man, with dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck. Clad in denim, he appeared strong. And heroic. Blue eyes softened his angular features, and Laurie was touched by his suggestion. “I haven’t had hot chocolate in years. It sounds great.”

“Well, it’s standard camp fare, assuming you can handle instant. All we need is hot water.”

“I don’t suppose you have the kind with little dehydrated marshmallows, do you?”

He offered a charming smile. “No, but I’ll get some for next time.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“For promising to get the kind with marshmallows?”

“No. For listening to me wallow in self-pity.”

Cole lifted her chin with the callused tip of his finger, sending a sensual shiver from her head to her toes. “You didn’t wallow. You just explained why you’re passing through.”

His eyes, dark blue pools with a depth she hadn’t expected, studied her intently. Then he slowly lowered his mouth to hers.