Harlequin American Romance October 2013 Bundle: Twins Under the Christmas Tree\Big Sky Christmas\Her Wyoming Hero\A Rancher's Christmas (23 page)

“No. I've never blamed Jackson for that. It's something else. He's been so sweet, building that extra room for Bobby. And, have you ever noticed that he's, well, he's pretty hot, actually?”

“Don't tell Corb, but yeah, I've noticed.” Suddenly there was a new tension in Laurel's voice. “Hang on. You aren't saying you're
attracted
to Jackson, are you?”

Winnie didn't answer.

“He's, like, practically Brock's brother.”

“I know.” The words came out sounding like a groan.

“Oh, Winnie. If you think your relationship with Olive is complicated
now.
Can you imagine what would happen if—” Laurel stopped. “Wait a minute. Has something happened between the two of you?”

Oh, Lord. Should she tell her? She'd never been able to keep a secret from Laurel for long. And the temptation to talk about what had happened was very strong.

“Last night when we were painting Bobby's room...we sort of kissed.”

“You didn't!”

“It was amazing. Wonderful. But also awful. After it happened I kept thinking how much it would hurt Brock if he knew....”

“It's too close to home,” Laurel said. “When you talked about being ready to date again, I was so happy for you. But I never guessed you were thinking of Jackson.”

“I wasn't. At least, I don't think I was.”

“So...the kiss just sort of happened?”

“It sure wasn't planned. And Jackson was so upset after. He said it was a mistake.”

“But you want it to happen again?” Laurel guessed.

“I do.”

“Oh, Winnie. You've been through so much and you deserve to be happy. But I can't help agreeing with Jackson. It would be better if you found someone else.”

Winnie had really been hoping for a different answer.

But the logical side of her had to agree.

“You're probably right. Look, I have to get back to work now. Thanks for listening.” She ended the call abruptly so Laurel wouldn't guess how upset she was.

If even Laurel thought the idea was so crazy, then her attraction to Jackson really must be wrong.

She had to stop.

Thinking of him. Dreaming of him. Wanting him.

She had to stop all of it.

Winnie glanced at the door to her apartment. She wanted so badly to go inside.

Instead she headed back to the café and put on a fresh pot of coffee.

* * *

A
WEEK
CRAWLED
BY
.
Winnie did her best to control her thoughts and yearnings where Jackson was concerned.

It helped that he never came into the café.

Bobby adjusted quickly to his new bedroom, but the lovely additional storage space was quickly filled to overflowing.

Had she been wrong to say no to Brock's cabin?

Thinking of the beautiful open-concept kitchen, the views of Cold Coffee Lake and the mountains beyond, the roomy two bedrooms and large mudroom—not to mention the cozy porch out front—Winnie began to think that she had.

Especially since she doubted that she was ready to start dating after all.

A few days after after her awkward phone conversation with Laurel about Jackson, Laurel and Corb had invited her to a dinner party at their home.

They'd invited several of their friends—including a horse trainer who worked at Monahan's Equestrian Center. Greg was a handsome, sandy-haired fellow with a warm smile and a great sense of humor.

She could tell right away he was interested in her, and she'd tried to be interested back. She'd even accepted and gone on a date with him last Saturday night.

It had been awful.

Excruciating.

Every time she'd smiled, she had felt like such a fake. She didn't want to be with Greg. She wanted—

Face it, she wanted what she couldn't have.

“What's wrong, Win?”

She'd stepped into the kitchen to get a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls for the counter. Vince was measuring scoops of flour into one of his large aluminum mixing bowls. He stopped and gave her a searching look.

“I'm fine.”

“Three weeks ago you looked fine. Three weeks ago, I thought to myself, time has done a good job healing that girl. Motherhood must be helping. She's got her old spark back again.”

Winnie sank onto a stool. Vince was rarely in a mood to chat, and she was always glad of a chance to get off her feet for a few minutes.

“But the past couple of weeks you've looked so glum. It's got me wondering if maybe you came back to work too early.”

“That's not the problem.” She was definitely ready to be working again. And much as she loved and appreciated her parents, it had been time for her and Bobby to move into their own home, as well.

Vince waited. He wasn't the type to pry.

“I can't help wondering if this is it for me. Ten years from now will it still be me and Bobby living above the café in our apartment? Just the two of us?”

“And if it is?”

She sighed. “I love being a mother. But I'm not even thirty years old.”

“I'd say something wise about living your life to the fullest and not being afraid of taking chances, but why should you listen to an old cowboy like me? It's not like I've made such a success with my life.”

Vince had certainly done his share of taking chances—most of them on bucking bulls and broncs. He had the scars on his weathered skin and the bad knees to show for it.

“You're in the Cowboy Hall of Fame. You've beaten your addiction to alcohol. And you supply the town with the best baked goods in the state. I'd say you've had your share of accomplishments, Vince.”

He nodded. “None of them was family, though. And I do have my regrets on that score.” He took out a box and put a dozen buns inside. “These are for Maddie Turner. Think you could ask Jackson to come pick them up next time he's in town? The going on my bike is just too slow now with all this snow.”

All it took was the mention of Jackson's name to knock her off balance. She glanced down at her hands. Told herself she could handle this.

“I'll take Maddie the buns myself, Vince. You're pretty good to her.” She paused, then added, “I heard you two were once an item.”

“That was a long time ago. I left her behind when I decided to become a rodeo cowboy. And that's my biggest regret. But it's not the reason I'm doing this.” He folded over the top flaps, then tied the box shut with string.

“Oh?”

“Maddie's got the biggest heart of anyone I've known. Despite the way I walked out on her, she's done some real good turns for me and one very large favor. I owe her big time.”

Winnie waited for him to elaborate. But Vince had already said all that he was going to on the subject.

Chapter Seven

“Is something wrong, Jackson?”

At the sound of Maddie's voice, he jumped out of the kitchen chair. “What are you doing up?”

She was in her blue housecoat as usual, shuffling in a pair of slippers that were so old her big toe poked through on the right foot. He'd tried to buy her a replacement pair, but she claimed they weren't as comfy and made him return the new ones.

“Feeling a little hungry,” she said. “Thought I'd toast that last cinnamon bun.”

“Go sit down. I'll bring it to you.” They'd had dinner an hour ago, which she'd only pecked at. Since then he'd been going through the numbers again, preparing a financial road map for expanding the cattle operation on Silver Creek. In five years he hoped to be running seven hundred head, at least. But to get there required updating the barns, repairing fencing, resuming hay production and about a hundred other things.

“I can still operate the toaster, Jackson. I'm not that far gone.” She glanced at the ledgers and spreadsheets on the oak table. The table had been in this kitchen for at least a hundred years, she'd told him, and looked like someone had beaten it with chains. “So why were you cursing? Think you've bitten off more than you can chew here?”

“Not at all.” He'd only agreed to take this job after doing enough research to know he could make a success of it. “The plan is sound. I'm just having troubles with the numbers tonight. I added the same row of figures three times and came up with three different sums.”

“Last time you sat down with that adding machine the two of you seemed to get along just fine.” Maddie cut the remaining bun in half and slipped both sides into the toaster. Then she filled the kettle and set it on to boil.

Now that the weather was turning colder, Jackson was growing to appreciate the old-fashioned wood-burning stove and the comforting warmth it provided to the room.

“It's not the machine's fault,” he admitted. He was having trouble concentrating.

And had been for the past few weeks.

Maddie sat down and looked at him thoughtfully.

“No,” he said.

She laughed. “I wasn't aware that I had asked you a question.”

“You had that ‘do you want to talk about it' look on your face. And I don't.”

“So there
is
something troubling you.”

Not something.
Someone.

“Maddie,” he warned.

“Okay, okay. Consider the subject dropped.” She got up to butter her toast and make the tea. As she was standing by the sink, a set of bright lights flashed through the window.

A vehicle of some sort had just pulled up to the house.

Immediately the border collies went on alert, rising from their spots—one by Jackson's chair, one by Maddie's. Usually they slept by the stove, but it had grown too warm. Once at the door, they turned back to their mistress with eager expressions.

“Who could be coming at this hour?” Maddie wondered.

According to the clock on the wall it was five minutes past seven. Not that late.

“Maybe Cassidy and Farley?” Since they'd found out about Maddie's terminal disease, all of Olive's children had decided it was time to put aside the family feud and had taken to dropping in from time to time.

Olive was the last holdout, her resentment toward her sister for past wrongs apparently something she intended to carry to the grave.

Maddie shook her head. “Cassidy's coming over tomorrow to show me her wedding and honeymoon pictures.”

A wedding that Maddie, as the aunt, should have been invited to. But Maddie didn't seem to feel resentful. Jackson admired her very much for that.

A car door slammed shut. Then, about twenty seconds later, a second door. Curious, Jackson turned on the outside light. When he heard footsteps on the back landing, he opened the door.

Standing in the flood of light, with crystals of snow floating down around her, was Winnie. She had Bobby in one arm. And a bakery box in the other.

“Special delivery.” She gave him a nervous smile. “Vince asked me to bring these to Maddie.”

Winter brought out the best in Winnie. Her skin glowed. Her eyes sparkled. Snowflakes settled on her dark hair and red coat like diamonds.

“Let her in already, Jackson. Good heavens, it's snowing again.”

He stood aside so Winnie could cross into the kitchen. She immediately set Bobby onto his feet. The little guy's eyes were wide as he took in these strange new surroundings. He didn't look nervous, but Jackson noticed he kept a tight hold on one of his mother's legs.

“Shut the door, please.” Maddie sounded a little exasperated. “Really, Jackson, you'd think we'd never had a visitor before.”

He did as commanded, still feeling a little stunned.

To have a woman on your mind, all the time.

To be trying to not think of her. To be failing. And then to have her show up on the doorstep.

Glowing like the light on the top of a Christmas tree.

“Good timing. I was just making a pot of tea.” Maddie crouched to the level of the toddler. “Hey there, little guy. Aren't you a cutie? I can see your daddy in you, that's for sure.”

Winnie glanced at Jackson nervously. “We can't stay. Bobby usually goes to bed at eight.”

He knew she was saying that for him. Explaining that she'd timed her visit specifically so she'd have an excuse to drop off the gift, then leave.

But Maddie was having none of it. “Just one cup. Look—it's already made and poured.” With her too-thin hands, she carried a mug to the table. “Jackson, would you put out some of those fresh rolls to go with the tea? And a cookie for Bobby. If that's okay?”

“Bobby may have a cookie. But the cinnamon buns were meant for you, Maddie.” She'd slipped off her boots and Bobby's and was now guarding the wood stove to make sure her son didn't burn himself.

She didn't have to worry. The second he spotted the dogs, Bobby fell in love. Cautiously he stepped away from his mother. He pointed and said, “Bow!” He looked up at his mom, excitement making him dance. “Bow bow!”

“Yes, Bobby. Those are dogs. And dogs say bow
wow.
” The tender look that washed over Winnie's face made Jackson's stomach do strange flip-flops.

He gripped the edge of one of the kitchen chairs, then pulled it out and nodded for Winnie to sit. “I'll watch the stove,” he promised.

Trix and Honey looked from the approaching youngster to Maddie. The expression on their mugs made Jackson smile. The only other baby they'd been exposed to was Stephanie. But Stephanie wasn't walking yet.

“Stay.” Maddie commanded her dogs.

So they stayed, even when Bobby got close enough to touch.

“Want me to help him?” he asked Winnie. When she nodded, he went to the little boy.

“Hold your hand like this.” He closed the boy's small fingers into a fist. “And let them smell you.”

Both dogs happily obliged.

“And now you can pet them. Softly.” Jackson demonstrated while Bobby watched intently. A second later he mimicked Jackson's gentle pats.

“That's right,” Jackson encouraged him. Winnie was sipping her tea, sitting in the chair he'd pulled up for her next to Maddie. Both women were smiling.

“Such a sweet child.” Maddie placed her hand over Winnie's. “It was so nice of you to drive all this way in this weather.”

“I'm not about to let a little snow stop me from visiting one of my friends. We miss you at the café, Maddie. You were one of my best customers.”

“And now I'm getting my cinnamon buns for free....”

“No, you're not. Vince pays for those.”

“Oh.” Maddie stared down at the table.

“I swear he's still carrying a torch for you.”

Maddie drew in a breath, and that seemed to trigger one of her coughing spells. She grabbed a handful of tissues from her housecoat while Jackson jumped up and fetched her a glass of water.

Eventually the coughing subsided. She sipped the water, then apologized.

“Not at all,” Winnie said. “I hope I didn't upset you by talking about Vince.”

Maddie shook her head as if discounting the idea. “I'm fine, honey. Just a little tired. I think I'll go to bed now.”

“Can I get you anything?” Jackson offered.

Maddie waved him back with her hand. “Just bring me my pills and water at nine.”

“Will do.”

Once she'd disappeared to her room on the other side of the house, Winnie apologized again.

“I shouldn't have mentioned Vince.”

Jackson was still standing in front of the stove in case Bobby decided to go exploring. It didn't seem likely that he would. The toddler was following Trix and Honey from one resting spot to the other. The tired border collies were being very patient.

“She usually goes to bed around now anyway. And she can't be too upset about Vince. She always eats his cinnamon buns.” He thought about the chicken stir-fry he'd made for dinner tonight and how little she'd had of it. “They're pretty much all she does eat these days.”

“You know they were an item once, before Vince got serious about the rodeo?”

He nodded. He'd heard.

“Well, today he told me that Maddie did a favor for him some time after that. He said he owed her big-time.” Winnie tipped her head to one side. “Any idea what that favor might have been?”

“None. She's never talked to me about him.”

He was having trouble focusing on the conversation. Just having Winnie in the same room made his thoughts go a little crazy. She brought so much life to the place.

So much beauty.

Jackson couldn't resist looking at her soft, red lips. He remembered kissing them all too well and wanted to kiss them again. Now.

God, five minutes alone with her—not counting her son, who was too young to notice—and his thoughts were already out of control.

Winnie must have sensed the direction his mind was traveling. She scrambled up from her chair, her cheeks turning as pink as they'd been when she'd first come in from the cold.

“I should get Bobby home.”

“Right.”

“Mind helping me with his boots?”

“Sure.”

It wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. Turned out Bobby didn't want his boots on. He didn't want to go home.

“Bow, bow, bow, bow, bow...” He went on and on, repeating that one word while he flailed his arms and kicked his feet.

“You're harder to shoe than a feisty stallion,” Jackson told him. “How about we switch jobs?” he suggested to Winnie. “I'll hold him and you put on the boots.”

That did work better, probably because Bobby went still the moment Jackson picked him up. His large eyes studied Jackson's face, as if he was trying to make up his mind whether to like this big man or not.

But the minute Jackson passed Bobby back to his mom, he started crying again. “Down, down, down.”

“Seems to really like those dogs.”

“You think?” Winnie sounded tired. He could understand why. A half hour of Bobby was fun. A whole day must be exhausting.

“Let me walk you out to the car.” He stepped into his boots, not bothering with a jacket. “I'll carry him.”

Winnie hesitated, then passed him over.

Jackson figured the kid would start crying even louder, but again Bobby became very quiet. Looking at the little boy's rounded eyes, Jackson could see the wheels spinning as the little guy tried to figure out what was going on. Why did his mother keep passing him to this stranger?

“Time to go home, Bobby.”

Winnie led the way to her car and opened the back door so he could slide Bobby into his car seat. The little boy's eyes were drooping as she buckled him in.

“It's been a long day for him. Next time maybe you could pick up the buns for Maddie when you're in town? There's too much snow for Vince to make deliveries with his bicycle anymore.”

In other words, she wouldn't be coming out here again. Probably a smart decision.

“I could do that.” He'd drop in early morning or later in the afternoon, when Winnie wasn't working.

She paused before getting behind the wheel. She looked a little sad suddenly.

“You okay?”

“I am. It was just so...cozy and warm in that kitchen, with Maddie, and the stove, and the dogs...”

“There's a couple of cats, too. Ginger is the friendly one. But she must have been playing shy tonight.”

“Oh, I love cats. Maybe that's what I should get. The apartment's too small for a dog, but we have room for a kitten.”

He considered the idea. And where it had sprung from. “Kind of lonely in that apartment of yours sometimes?”

“After Bobby goes to bed at eight... Yes, it can be. TV isn't the same as having—” She smiled ruefully. “Sorry. I didn't mean to cry on your shoulder. I have a wonderful son, great friends and a good business. Most people would say I was darned lucky.”

“What happened to Brock... That wasn't lucky.”

She caught her breath. “No.”

“So I'd say you're entitled to the occasional sad spell.”

“Thanks for understanding. I'm good now.” She gave him a brave smile and a wave, then got into the driver's seat.

He stood watching as she drove down the lane, admiring her strength and bravery. If only he could be the one to comfort her. But he couldn't. Because what Winnie really yearned for was a lover, a partner, a man who could help her raise her son.

And he could never be any of those.

* * *

W
INNIE
DIDN
'
T
SLEEP
WELL
that night. She kept thinking back to the time she'd spent at Maddie's. The kitchen was old and outdated, with worn linoleum and ancient appliances. But it was also charming and welcoming—just like Maddie had been before Winnie had made the mistake of talking about Vince.