Page 32 of Mistletoe Cowboy

“We’re both carrying painful scars,” he said after a minute. “You lost your husband. I lost my fiancée and my child. I’ve had longer to recover than you have, but it’s still fresh, very fresh.”

She drew in a breath and wrapped her arms around her chest. She felt a chill, even with her nice warm coat on. “My husband died doing something he felt a moral obligation to do. It was the most important thing in his life, even more important than us. He said that so few people could do his job, that many men would have died if he hadn’t been there to do it. So I guess it evens out, in a way. But yes, it’s still fresh. A few months’ distance helps. It doesn’t heal.”

“It takes years for that.” He lifted his head and looked where Teddie was opening her bag to another handful of treats from a merchant. “You know, when you have an old dog that you love, and it dies, they all say the best thing for the grief is to go right out and get a puppy.”

Her heart skipped. “They do, don’t they?”

He turned to her. “We’re not speaking of dogs.”

She just nodded. She was spellbound, looking up into those dark, dark eyes.

He moved a step closer, not intimately close, but enough that she could feel his breath on her forehead. “We don’t have to get totally involved, just to have a hamburger together or take Teddie to a movie. Right?”

Her heart was going wild. It surprised and almost shamed her, because she hadn’t had such a violent physical reaction even to her late husband. “N-no,” she stammered. “I mean, yes. I mean . . .” She just stopped, staring up into his eyes.

His jaw tautened and he averted his gaze. “Don’t do that,” he bit off. “It’s been a long time. A long time,” he emphasized. “I’m more vulnerable than I look.”

She swallowed, hard. “Sorry,” she said in a gruff whisper.

He shifted on his feet, feeling the hunger all the way to his toes. “I would love to drag you behind the nearest building and kiss you until you couldn’t stand up by yourself.”

Her lips parted on a shocked breath. She turned toward Teddie, not looking at him. “I would love it . . . if you did,” she blurted out.

“Oh, God,” he groaned.

“‘Four score and seven years ago’,” she began reciting Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address.

She turned around again and he looked down at her in shock.

“It’s what I did at school when I got all embarrassed and couldn’t think of what to say to somebody,” she explained, and flushed, and then laughed self-consciously.

He burst out laughing. “I started calculating the absolute value of Pi,” he replied, and now his dark eyes were twinkling.

“Lincoln’s address is much shorter,” she pointed out.

He grinned. “So it is.” He caught her hand in his and linked their fingers together. “People will talk,” he added softly.

Her fingers tangled in his. “Let them,” she said huskily.

He pulled her along with him and they went to find Teddie.

* * *

Teddie, of course, noticed the new attitude between both the adults in her life, and she smiled mischievously when they got back to the ranch house.

“Thanks for driving us, Parker,” Teddie said on the front porch, and impulsively hugged him and then ran to unlock the front door. “Happy Halloween!” she called back as she went inside. “I’m going to eat candy and watch TV!”

“Not too much!” Katy called after her.

“Okay!”

Parker chuckled. “She doesn’t miss a trick, does she? I guess we might as well be wearing signs.”

“She’s intuitive,” she agreed.

He reached out lazily and pulled her to him. “How about a movie Saturday night?” he asked. “We can take Teddie to see that new cartoon one that came out.”

“I’d love to go to a movie with you.”

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