Page 47 of Winter Vows

“Done.”

“And you keep an open mind about the cowboy.”

So, they were back to that again. “Why are you pushing so hard to make something happen between us?” she asked, genuinely puzzled. Dylan had never been prone to counseling her on her love life before. “Because I saw the way he looked at you, Sis. It’s not something you should ever take for granted.”

She caught the shadows in his eyes and realized he was thinking of Kit, the woman who’d stolen his heart and then shattered it. Or if not of his ex-wife, then definitely of his son. Dylan missed Shane terribly, but he refused to admit it.

“Kit was a witch,” she declared fiercely.

“No,” he said just as vehemently. “I took her for granted. I neglected her. It was my fault she walked out. It took me a long time to admit it, but that’s the God’s honest truth.”

“Then go after her, Dylan. Get her back, if you still love her.”

“Too late. She got married again last week. I let her and the new hubby get full custody of Shane.”

Trish was shocked and filled with pity. She knew what a terrible sacrifice her brother was making. She even thought she could understand why he’d made it. Dylan wouldn’t want his son torn between two fathers. “Oh, Dylan, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “Too bad these brilliant flashes of self-awareness come too late. Don’t you sit around until it’s too late, Trish. I’d give anything to have my baby back and somebody who looks at me the way your cowboy looks at you.”

“You will,” she promised him. Maybe she’d go about finding the perfect candidate herself.

No sooner had the thought occurred to her than she realized that she’d been around Adamses way too long. She had four bachelor brothers and she was in serious danger of catching the matchmaking fever that seemed to be contagious in Los Piños.

Eleven

Hardy couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking about the unexpected arrival of Trish’s brother. He wasn’t sure which of them it had shaken more, him or Trish. For Trish there had been the fear of discovery. For him it had meant the possible end to having her to himself. It had meant Laura’s father might be only hours or days away from finding her, as well.

Trish claimed to want nothing to do with Jack Grainger, but when she was face-to-face with her daughter’s father, would she be able to resist? Especially with her own father pressuring her?

When the stranger had first walked into the store asking for Trish, Hardy’s muscles had tensed. His stomach had knotted. He wasn’t crazy about the idea of any man that good-looking having a claim on her.

For five minutes, maybe longer, the possibility that he’d been the father of her baby had eaten Hardy up inside until Dylan Delacourt had finally gotten around to introducing himself.

Once Trish had turned up, some sort of mental telepathy had been exchanged between brother and sister. After that Dylan’s gaze had turned speculative. He seemed to be sizing up Hardy as if he guessed that Hardy might be more than the man who was helping her build the shelves for her store. Since Dylan had suggested dinner, Hardy figured he’d either passed muster or that further interrogation was required.

Hardy wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. He figured he already had too many people passing judgment on how he and Trish matched up as a couple. They’d been under scrutiny and under pressure since day one. For two people who had vowed to avoid marriage like the plague, it amounted to a whole lot of unwanted interference.

After Trish and Dylan had left for the ranch, Hardy had spent the evening putting the finishing touches on the shelves. He hadn’t much felt like going back to the bunkhouse and enduring the inevitable teasing about his recent lack of a social life and the taunting speculation about what it meant.

Nor had the prospect of going to any of his usual haunts appealed to him. Not one single name from his little black book popped into his head. The only woman he wanted to spend the evening with was otherwise occupied. Everyone else seemed like a poor substitute. It was pathetic. What the hell was happening to him?

With the last of the shelves built and ready for the books that would be arriving any day, he had turned his attention to the floor. He spent another hour with the sander, then polished the wood until the old planks gleamed.

When he was through, he’d stood by the front door and studied the bookstore. As a child he hadn’t spent a lot of time reading books, and those he had read had been borrowed from a library. As an adult, he’d never found the time either. He could see, though, how a place like this would be appealing. There was an inviting warmth to it, a hominess, a personal charm that was all Trish.

In fact, he could imagine curling up in one of those big chairs Trish had found and recovered with bright chintz. He could practically feel her settled in his lap, a beer in his hand, a glass of wine in hers, as the fire flickered cheerfully. The image aroused him as none of his past conquests ever had.

He’d finally left the store after ten, exhausted and frustrated but pleased, as he anticipated Trish’s reaction when they arrived in the morning and she discovered all that he’d accomplished in her absence. The work was all but over now. Soon he’d be back in the saddle and working at White Pines. His only contact with Trish would be by chance unless something changed.

Back at the bunkhouse, he’d crawled into bed, then tossed and turned for an hour before finally giving up and going outside. Maybe a walk would settle his nerves and wipe out the thoughts that kept churning no matter how hard he tried to shut them off.

He automatically gravitated toward the creek. Even in winter, he found solace in the fast-moving water and rustling of the wind. On a night like tonight, with a full moon and a sharp nip in the air, there was something almost magical about it.

As he neared the water, he thought he heard the soft whisper of crying. Slipping quietly through the shadows, he walked toward the sound, then halted at the sight of Trish, sitting on a boulder, her knees drawn up, her coat wrapped tightly around her. She looked so dejected, so completely lost and alone, it almost broke his heart.

He stood there forever debating what to do. Obviously she had come here to be by herself, to sort out whatever demons were troubling her after her visit with her brother. Maybe Dylan had tried to convince her to go home, Hardy thought, and mentally cursed the man. Hardy might not know exactly what he wanted from Trish, but he did know he didn’t want her leaving. Even in such a brief time, she had become a part of his life. Little Laura had stolen his heart.

Whatever had brought Trish here tonight, though, he had the sense that she wouldn’t welcome him catching her at such a vulnerable moment. He settled for remaining out of sight, watching over her until she decided finally to leave, then following at a discreet distance as she made the long walk back to Kelly and Jordan’s. Only when she was safely inside, did he go back to his own bed, where he finally fell into a restless sleep.

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