HE’S CALLING IN BACKUP

As the law in Rodeo, Montana, Sheriff Cole Payette can handle just about anything. Taking in his orphaned niece and nephew, though, puts him out of his depth. Grief-stricken himself, Cole turns to bar owner Honey Armstrong. Cole’s longtime crush on Honey has always made him tongue-tied, but now she’s the only one he can ask for help.

Honey is shocked by Cole’s request. He rarely says two words to her and now he needs her to help care for the children? She’s willing to pitch in, but bonding with the kids starts to feel a lot like being a family. And that’s not something Honey has ever let herself dream about—no matter how tempting Cole is...

Author MARY SULLIVAN has been collecting awards, accolades and great reviews since her first book, No Ordinary Cowboy, was published by Harlequin in 2009. She has written fifteen Harlequin Superromances and four Harlequin Western Romances. She has been told her writing touches the heart.

She loves hearing from readers! To keep up-to-date about upcoming releases, don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter at marysullivanbooks.com.

Also By Mary Sullivan

Rodeo Father

Rodeo Rancher

Rodeo Baby

No Ordinary Sheriff

In from the Cold

Home to Laura

Because of Audrey

Always Emily

No Ordinary Home

Safe in Noah’s Arms

Cody’s Come Home

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Rodeo Sheriff

Mary Sullivan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08095-8

RODEO SHERIFF

© 2018 Mary Sullivan

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

“Don’t use guilt on me, Cole. I don’t appreciate it. I’ll spend as much spare time as I can with Madeline, but you have to find someone who can care for the children full-time. Okay?”

Cole nodded, but she wasn’t at all certain she’d gotten through to him.

“I mean it, Cole. I expect you to put in your best effort to find someone else.”

“I will,” he promised, and she believed him.

A tiny head peered around Cole’s legs: Madeline, her blue eyes a miniature version of her uncle’s, but large in her tiny face. Every bit as haunted as his, they softened Honey’s defenses, and that would not do.

She couldn’t offer everything Cole needed, but she would give as much as she could.

Dear Reader,

Since writing the first book in my Rodeo, Montana series I have wanted to write Cole Payette and Honey Armstrong’s story!

I liked both of these characters immensely and included them in the other books in the series. Cole is a capable, intelligent, well-respected sheriff, but he falls apart whenever Honey is around. Usually articulate, Cole is extremely shy with her and can’t string two words together when she is near. Honey owns the town’s bar and is outgoing and generous.

When Cole becomes guardian of two sad children, and is grief-stricken himself at the loss of his sister, the first person he goes to is Honey. With the help of the children, Cole learns to step outside his fears and embrace life before it slips through his fingers. Watching Honey fall in love with the already-smitten Cole was a lot of fun. Together, the duo provides the children with a new and loving home.

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Mary Sullivan

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Extract

Chapter One

Honey Armstrong wouldn’t have thought Rodeo’s sheriff, being the predictable sort, could do much to surprise her.

Except show up with children.

Cole Payette, in civilian clothes instead of his uniform, stood just inside the open doorway of Honey’s empty bar with two kids.

The cloudless June day cast Cole and the children into silhouette.

Sunlight limned Cole’s muscular frame and lightened his thatch of dirty-blond hair.

His broad shoulders dwarfed the silent, delicate girl about three or four years old sitting on his forearm. A boy of about six held Cole’s other hand, but not quietly. His slim body percolated in motion.

Honey’s spirits lifted, and she laughed. “I was just thinking I need a distraction this afternoon.”

For Honey, a child was a luminous slice of life, the perfect soft golden yolk of a sunny-side-up egg.

Cole wasn’t a father, nor did he babysit that she knew of, even though the children of town liked him.

So whose kids were they?

“Who do you have with you today, Cole?”

He sighed and Honey cocked her head, alerted by a strange intensity emanating from him.

While Cole might have lived in town for more than a dozen years, his presence on his favorite bar stool at Honey’s Place every Friday and Saturday night accounted for most of Honey’s exposure to him. He poured drinks while she took her breaks or relieved her waiters. Cole didn’t visit any other time unless on official business.

So why was he here with children on Sunday when he knew the bar was closed? Had something happened to someone in town?

“Come in,” she urged again. “Close the door.” Eager to recognize the children, she gestured for them to step closer. “Who did you bring to visit?”

“They’re mine,” Cole said, his voice a hollowed-out shell of its normal deep timbre.

Honey frowned.

Mine?

As owner of the only bar in town, Honey knew all that went on in Rodeo. Cole had no children and no significant other. Unless maybe he lived a double life he kept secret... Ha. In Rodeo? Where everyone knew everything about everyone? Laughable.

“Shut the door,” she said, quietly this time. She knew trouble when it walked into her bar.

He did so, blocking out the sunshine. He stepped closer to the lamps, a ravaged man who looked as though he’d been on a bender last night. If so, it hadn’t been here. He’d been missing from town all week, his bar stool empty last night and Friday night.

Deep brackets framed his well-defined mouth, harsher than usual.

Honey was certain he wasn’t yet thirty-five, but permanent frown lines had already started to develop on his forehead, and today every faint line that marred his attractive face was deeper than usual.

He watched her with a dim, weary gaze, as did the boy and girl, all three seeming past their power to endure.

The boy shifted from foot to foot.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” Honey asked the child.

“Nope,” he said loudly.

Cole stared down at him. “He moves a lot.”

Okay. But— They’re mine?

“What do you mean, they’re yours?” Honey asked.

“They were my sister’s kids.”

Honey gasped. Were.

Grief rolled from Cole in dark waves.

After staring at Honey with wide eyes for unrelieved moments, the girl closed her eyes, rested her head on Cole’s shoulder and stuck her tiny thumb into her mouth.

Honey’s heart went out to her.

Help, Cole mouthed. One word. So much said.

She started to rush forward, but he stiffened, resisting her sympathy.

Okay. As always with Cole, she got mixed messages. He would help her out at the bar on the weekends, but outside of that, hands off.

You got it, Cole. Message received.

And yet here he was in her empty bar with a pair of children.

Okay. Today he needed her, but no physical displays of sympathy. Maybe he was too close to the edge. Given her experience with her mother’s and Daniel’s deaths, she understood.

“What can I do?” she asked briskly.

“The kids will need someone to take care of them. I have to get organized. I—Maybe I have to get them... I don’t know. What? A nanny?”

Ordinarily, Cole would know that kind of thing, but shock had a firm hold on him. “A nanny, yes,” she confirmed. “What do you need from me?”

“Can you take care of the children while I interview people?”

“Today? Now? That’s so soon. You just brought them to town.”

He didn’t respond, but his hard jaw flexed.

Honey went on, “Can you take time off work to get them settled in? If you give them over to a nanny too soon, won’t that be hard on them?”

He shrugged helplessly, this normally rock-solid guy. “I’m taking this week off, but I need to get as much as possible settled right away.”

Maybe a gradual transition was a good idea, kind of acclimating the children to the new nanny before Cole left them with her full-time.

“Okay.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m in over my head.” A massive admission from a man most often in control. “I can’t do this alone.”

“I’ll help, of course, but I don’t understand. Why come to the bar? Why come to me?”

“You’re good with kids,” he said. “You love them and they love you.”

Yes, true. She was crazy about kids. No secret there. Everyone in the surrounding Montana countryside knew that. Children gathered around wherever Honey went, drawn like bees to...well, honey.

“Can I do the interviews here?” he asked.

“Cole, this is a bar. I know I’m closed today and tomorrow, but still. It’s hardly an appropriate spot.”

Cole released the boy’s hand. A couple of backpacks fell from his shoulder to the floor. Given half a chance, maybe he would follow suit.

“There’s room here for me to ask questions without anyone hearing.”

Anyone. The children.

“You know my place,” he said. “It’s dim and dismal.”

“Actually, I don’t.” She’d never been in the apartment above the sheriff’s office. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

She glanced around her bar. “While it’s spacious, I would hardly say this is a suitable spot for entertaining children.”

He stared around, but Honey had the sense he wasn’t seeing much. Oh, my lord, he looks so lost.

Right. Let’s get on with it.

“Upstairs.” Brisk in her movements, she locked the front door of the bar. “We’ll use my apartment.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. Yeah. Thanks.”

Cole Payette, as predictable as a finely wound clock, as handsome and rugged as the Rocky Mountains—and as quiet as a monk when in her presence—had reached the end of his rope.

No problem. Honey had enough coping skills for both of them.

“Follow me,” she said.

She led them to the interior stairs at the back of the building.

A sudden tug on a huge hank of her hair had her pulling up short.

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry!” Cole sounded distressed.

Someone hung onto her hair with a strong grip. Honey turned around as far as she could. It was the girl in Cole’s arms. He was trying to loosen her grip, but the child wouldn’t let go.

Cole stared at the child in his arms. “Madeline, let go.”

The child’s deep, hollow gaze broke Honey’s heart.

“What’s going on?” she asked Cole.

“Her mother had long blond hair. I guess... I don’t know... Maybe she sees a bit of her mother in you?”

Tentatively, Honey held out her hands. The child practically jumped into her arms, where she clung like a monkey.

She drew hanks of Honey’s waist-length, curly hair around her shoulders as though donning a protective cape.

Honey’s heart broke a little more. She raised her eyebrows at Cole, but he shook his head, also confused by the girl’s behavior.

If this was what she needed, this was what Honey would give. She carried the child up to her apartment, leading Cole and the boy down the hallway to her living room.

Honey liked big comfy furniture—big comfy everything—and her space reflected that, with plenty of generous pieces for seating and lots of colorful afghans thrown around. The apartment as large as the bar below, Honey had all kinds of living space.

While Cole conducted his interviews in privacy by the windows, Honey could play with the children at the opposite end of the room.

Cole led the boy to the sofa, where he sat obediently and hugged one of her puffy pillows. When Honey tried to put down the girl, she clung hard, her tiny fingernails digging into Honey’s shoulders.

Honey straightened. The girl wrapped Honey’s hair more tightly about herself. Okay, this could be a problem.

She indicated the girl and boy. “Is this why you’ve been missing from town the past week?”

Cole nodded.

“No one knew where you went.”

“Didn’t tell them.” His voice rasped as drily as day-old bread without a trace of butter.

The children made not a peep. The girl still had her thumb in her mouth, even though she was too old for it.

The boy played an imaginary game walking his fingers along the seams of the pillow on his lap.

This was silly. She couldn’t keep calling them the boy and the girl.

“What are their names?”

“I’m Evan Engel,” the boy piped up.

“Evan, I’m Honey.”

“Like the stuff you put on toast?”

She smiled. “Exactly like that.”

The girl didn’t make a sound.

“That’s Madeline,” Cole said. Oh, yes, he’d used the girl’s name when she’d grabbed Honey’s hair.

Honey placed a hand on Cole’s arm. Tension ran along his muscles.

His body reacted when she touched him with not quite a jerk, but more like—Well, she didn’t know.

She dropped her hand and motioned him toward the far end of the room, to her small home office set up with desk, chair, her computer and a printer.

She ran Honey’s Place from her office downstairs, but she’d designed this corner up here strictly for pleasure. Well...to be honest...to play her computer games.

Voice pitched low, she asked, “What happened to their parents?”

Stark vulnerability clouded his handsome face. His gaze flickered to Madeline.

“My sister—Her husband—” His voice broke. He hissed in a breath. “In their will, they left guardianship of the children to me.”

Before she could ask for more, he rushed on, “Can we leave it at that for now?” A pain-laden plea if she’d ever heard one.

She’d always wanted a sister.

“Was she your only sibling?” she asked.

He tightened his lips and nodded.

God. To have only one sister and to lose her so early in life, and then to have an instant family. How was he to deal with this?

And Evan and Madeline, poor children.

No! She would not use that awful, inadequate, destructive word poor.

From personal experience, starting with her father’s death when she was only six, she knew too well the damage a word like that could do to a child...and how dangerous pity was. She would not treat Madeline or Evan with that most useless of emotions, pity.

They should never think of themselves as poor.

How could she help them?

Perhaps by making the day as normal as possible.

“Before you use the phone to set up your interviews, I need to call Rachel to come over.”

“Go ahead and use your phone,” Cole said. “I’ll use my cell. Why Rachel?”

“We need to make the children comfortable. Rachel will bring Tori. If anyone can put them at ease it’s that little girl.”

The tension in Cole’s shoulders eased a fraction. “Yeah. Good idea.” He stretched his neck to one side and then to the other. Bones popped. “Who should I call in town?”

“To hire as a nanny?”

He nodded.

Honey tapped her lips with her forefinger. “Of the women who would suit, there are Ellen Clarkson, Tanya Mayhall and Maria Tripoli.”

“All older women. Why?”

“They’ve been stay-at-home moms, and their chicks have flown the nest. They’re helping to organize the teenagers for the food and beverage stands at the revival fair. They love children and are good with them.”

Cole nodded and collapsed into her office chair. “Sounds good.”

He pulled his cell phone out of his shirt pocket and stared at it as if it were alien to him.

Honey touched his hand, surprising him. He glanced up with wide blue eyes. Something odd touched their depths. Maybe hope? Or...what? Honey couldn’t identify what she saw, but again tension arced under her fingers.

She dropped her hand. “Do you need me to make the calls?”

A split second of temptation lit the darkness in his eyes, replaced at once by determination.

“My job. Just please take care of them this afternoon. Make them happy.”

“Cole, no one can do that right now.”

“You can, Honey. If anyone can, it’s you.”

Tightening her hold on Madeline, she huffed out a frustrated sigh. What a burden he was placing on her. She might be a favorite with the children of Rodeo, Montana, but she wasn’t a miracle worker.

His intensity, while understandable given the situation, unnerved her. He wasn’t thinking rationally.

“Oh, Cole.” Her voice eased out of her on a breath of soft air. “It’s too early. There’s nothing that will make them happy. All I can do is make them comfortable.”

“Do that? Please?” The rawness in his voice held her still.

How could she resist a plea so sweetly asked?

“Okay. You make the calls and get those women in here to interview. I’ll take care of the children.”

She squeezed his hand, meaning to move on quickly, but he turned his palm up and grasped her like he never meant to let go. His grip became painful.

He closed his eyes. Misery etched deeper those brackets of character on his face.

When he looked at her again, moisture shimmered on his pale lashes.

Tenderness welled inside Honey.

She did affection really well, especially with children and friends, but affection toward men? Not so much. She had her reasons, all balled up in an amalgam of passionate love and too much loss...as well as being a female bar owner.

She straightened and put distance between herself and that dangerous tenderness.

He dropped her hand.

All business, she offered, “Would you like coffee? Food?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to put you out.”

Used to dealing with recalcitrant drunks, she slammed her fist onto her unoccupied hip. “When did you last eat?”

He turned inward but couldn’t seem to come up with an answer. “I don’t remember.”

“And the children?”

“Breakfast this morning.”

“It’s two o’clock. I’ll put on the coffeepot and get food in here.” She pointed a finger at his face. “When the children sit down to eat, so will you.”

She snagged the phone and walked to her bedroom at the back of the apartment, hitching Madeline a little higher on her hip.

Rachel answered on the second ring. “Hi, Honey. What’s up?”

“Are you and the children available this afternoon?”

“Sure. Travis is out checking on the herd. What do you need?”

“Come over.”

“Now? Beth is napping.”

Aware of Madeline listening in, Honey said, “Can you come anyway? Right away? There are a couple of children here who need someone to play with. They need Tori. I’ll explain when you arrive.”

Despite how little Honey was actually telling her, Rachel responded with an immediate, “Okay, we’ll be right over. I’ll have to wake Beth, so she might be grumpy.”

Honey considered baby Beth’s discomfort a small price to pay for providing Evan and Madeline with small-fry company.

“See you soon.”

Next, Honey called Violet Summer, who owned the Summertime Diner.

After a few rings, Vy answered. “Hey, Honey. To what do I owe the annoyance of this call interrupting a perfectly fine Sunday afternoon with my man?”

Honey laughed. God, she loved Vy’s irreverent sense of humor. On the other hand, Vy might be serious considering how recently her relationship with newcomer Sam Carmichael had begun.

Honey explained that she had children and a couple of adults who needed to be fed, and that it was an emergency. She could almost feel Vy coming alert like a bird dog sensing prey.

“I’ll head over to the diner and see what Will has left over from yesterday. It might not be much. We were busy. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

Once Vy arrived with food, Honey would assess what was needed and call in her cook, Chet, to make up burgers and fries if necessary. Honey didn’t have enough food in the apartment for everyone. She didn’t think Madeline would let go of her long enough for Honey to buy food, let alone cook it. A good guy who liked children, Chet wouldn’t mind cooking for them.

Honey had forgotten to ask Cole whether she could share his story, but it would be naive of him to think he could hold on to this forever. The second he’d brought the children home with him to Rodeo, they’d become part of the community.

Hold up, Honey. You don’t even know if this is permanent. But Cole mentioned guardianship and a will, so probably?

She would just have to get the full story at some point.

Back in the living room, she replaced the phone in its cradle. Cole sat staring at his cell, but at least there’d been some progress. He’d made a list of the women with their contact information.

Honey picked up the sheet of paper. “You know their phone numbers?”

Cole’s eyebrows shot up. “I contacted the office. The deputy on duty accessed the town’s database.”

“Oh. Of course.” She pointed to Tanya’s name and said, “Call her first. Tell her to be here in an hour if she can.”

“Not right away?”

“No. You’re going to eat first.”

She tried to put Madeline down on the sofa again, but the little girl still clung.

Honey hitched her a bit higher. Good thing she was strong from running her bar and hauling around cases of liquor and beer.

One-handed, she put on a pot of coffee to brew and got out mugs, cream and sugar.

She poured a cup of coffee for Cole and brought it to him.

“You look numb,” she said.

Cole stared at her.

Frowning, she returned to the kitchen to pour a mug for herself.

The front doorbell tinkled. Company. Honey ran down the stairs to let in Rachel, Beth and Tori.

Thank God. The cavalry had arrived.

Four-year-old Tori threw herself against Honey’s legs. “Mommy said you gots kids here. Who’s that girl you’re holding? Can I meet her?”

“You sure can.” This, Tori’s boundless excitement, was exactly what these two waifs needed, but Madeline burrowed into Honey’s hair. “You can meet her upstairs.”

In the living room, Tori ran to the sofa and stared at Evan. “I’m Tori. I live in Rodeo. Who are you?”

“I’m Evan. That’s my sister, Madeline.”

“I like your names.” She pointed to the sofa. “Can I sit here?”

From behind the curtain of Honey’s hair, Madeline studied Tori, not emitting a sound.

Tori wasn’t bossy by nature, but she was friendly and exuberant. As far as Honey could tell, she had decided to take control.

“You look nice,” she said to Madeline. “Sit here.” She curled up beside Evan and patted the sofa beside herself.

Madeline merely stared.

“We be friends,” Tori said. “I brought games. We can play.”

The tiniest of smiles hovered on Evan’s lips. Madeline rested her head on Honey’s shoulder and stayed where she was.

Tori frowned, not used to resistance.

Honey frowned, too. If Tori couldn’t break through Madeline’s shell, who could?

Chapter Two

Numb.

Honey thought Cole was numb.

If only.

Cole wished to hell he was truly numb all the way through to his core. He wished he never had to feel another emotion in his life again. Then he wouldn’t have to be this raw, pain-ravaged creature.

This aching, furious, grief-stricken man with every nerve exposed and crawling.

His reactions might be slow, but numb? No.

Sandy. His baby sister was gone. Her bright-burning presence would no longer illuminate this world. A shining star of a woman had been snuffed out too early.

He couldn’t wrap his head it. He couldn’t accept that he would never see her again.

Never.

Dennis Engle, her husband, had been a good guy. Cole had liked and respected the man. Gone too young, too.

Cole’s parents were still alive, but he hoped never to see them again in his lifetime.

His family had been reduced to those two orphans on the sofa.

He wasn’t up to this. He’d faced every challenge life had ever thrown at him and had survived. But this?

God.

How—?

God.

There were no words.

Numb?

A bitter laugh burst out of him. If freaking only.

No anesthetic in this world could kill his pain.

He dredged up every trace of strength he had left inside his hollowed-out shell of a soul.

As sheriff, he knew everyone in town. Tanya was good people. He phoned her. She answered on the third ring.

He told her why he was calling. “You wouldn’t start for at least a week, but I need—I need—”

“To get things settled and planned,” she said. “I understand. I’ll see you in an hour, Cole.”

He ended the call.

What now?

What was he supposed to ask her and the other women?

Studying the children, he tried to imagine what they would need on a day-to-day basis while he was at work.

Discipline? Strong, but loving.

Education? Age appropriate and not overwhelming.

Fun? God, yes.

Affection? Hell, yeah. Plenty of it. As much as their little hearts could hold.

He wanted things settled. Now.

Despite the sun streaming through Honey’s windows, he shivered.

He’d never felt so alone.

How was he supposed to raise those children on his own?

* * *

HONEY LED HER friend to her bedroom, where Rachel took off Beth’s tiny sweater and hat.

“Spill,” Rachel ordered. “What’s going on?”

Honey patted Madeline’s back. “Evan and Madeline are Cole’s nephew and niece.” She glanced at Madeline, who continued to hide behind Honey’s hair. “Isn’t that nice?”

Rachel must have caught Honey’s warning look that said we’ll talk later, because she murmured, “I see.”

“Cole is interviewing caregivers for the children today. If Tanya Mayhall agreed, she should be here soon.”

Rachel stared at Madeline with a worried frown and pointed discreetly. Honey glanced down. A wide frill decorated the neckline of Honey’s white blouse. Madeline had a small piece of it in her mouth, sucking on it. “Oh... I—”

Honey covered her lips with her fingers and fought tears.

“It will be okay,” Rachel said, too loudly. “Tanya’s a great woman. She loves children.”

“Yes.” Honey cleared a sudden huskiness out of her throat.

Rachel nodded toward the child, whose hands still grasped bunches of Honey’s hair.

“She likes being held by you.”

Honey nodded and gave a rundown on the other two women she’d also suggested.

“All perfect candidates. I would trust my children with any of them.”

“I hope he can do a good job of interviewing,” Honey said. “Cole’s even worse than usual because of this.”

Puzzled, Rachel asked, “Worse than usual? How so?”

“You know Cole. So quiet.”

“Quiet? What do you mean?”

“He’s like one of those monks who makes a vow of silence.”

Rachel frowned and lifted Beth into her arms. “I’ve never noticed that. He chats away whenever we meet, always asking about the children and curious about how Travis’s herd is doing.”

“Um, is he like that with Travis, too?”

“They’ve become great friends. He’s like that with everyone. Haven’t you ever seen him in the diner when he goes in for breakfast?”

“With the hours I keep at the bar, I usually sleep through Vy’s breakfast hours.”

“Oh, right, of course. Anyway, he does the rounds before sitting down to have breakfast.”

Curious. Cole had always been quiet with her, and she didn’t know why.

He might share a conversation with someone on a bar stool beside him, but he certainly didn’t talk to her. She’d assumed it was because she was so busy and he didn’t want to intrude. Looked like she was wrong.

Come on, Honey, you’ve seen him chatting with the townspeople. You knew he avoided you outside the bar.

She’d kind of ignored that.

It hurt that Cole wasn’t friendly with her—only a little, but even so. What on earth did Cole have against Honey that he was talkative with the rest of the town, but not with her?

Then he shows up here today with children, trusting me to take care of them. Cole, who the heck are you?

“Come on,” Rachel said, leaving the bedroom. “Let’s go see what we can do for him.”

When they returned to the living room, Rachel put Beth down on the short end of the L-shaped sofa and surrounded her with pillows.

She approached Cole, who accepted a long hug.

Honey watched him wrap his strong arms around her friend and close his eyes, dipping his chin onto Rachel’s hair.

Downstairs in the bar, he’d stepped away from Honey’s attempt at sympathy.

Tori spoke up, breaking into her thoughts. “Can we build a fort, Honey?” She pointed to Madeline. “Would she like it?”

Honey’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t know. We could build one and see?”

Tori smiled. “’Kay.”

Honey kissed Tori’s cheek. “Love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Honey, but we needs to build our fort now.”

Madeline peeked between strands of Honey’s hair and watched the interchange between Tori and Honey with a frown furrowing her small brow.

* * *

COLE PAYETTE LOVED Honey Armstrong.

He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t.

He’d been careful to never show his feelings to her. Years ago, he’d made big mistakes with a woman. Deep in his soul, he knew that wasn’t a path he could take again. It was even more important now that he had the responsibility of raising two children.

No matter how great she was with kids, Honey was too much a free spirit for him.

She might be good at making children laugh, but those kids were going to need a firmly measured guiding hand.

Honey, pretty and generous and fun, was so achingly attractive to Cole that he had trouble not giving in to his need for her. He’d resisted her allure for years while she ran her bar—a bar, for God’s sake—made friends with all of her customers, and kept unconventional hours.

Her business was important to Honey. He suspected it was everything for her. How could she possibly have a family? How could she spend her evenings running a bar, go to bed at two in the morning and then be there for her children the next day? It would never happen.

It could never work.

But look at how she held Madeline and rested her chin on the girl’s head while she smiled and kissed Tori.

Honey messed with Cole’s head, and had done so for at least a decade.

He heard her murmur, “I have to put you down to make a fort.”

Madeline turned her face into Honey’s chest.

Honey shot him a look that said, Help.

He stood and took Madeline from her.

Honey rushed around the apartment gathering afghans and blankets, tearing her place apart to make an indoor playground for the children.

She pushed two armchairs together and threw a couple of afghans over their high backs. A third armchair joined the first two, leaving the side facing the windows open. She tucked cushions inside.

She disappeared down the back hallway. Cole heard her running down the stairs.

Across the room, Rachel smiled at him. “Whirlwind,” she said.

He nodded.

A minute later Honey returned, carrying a pair of microphone stands. She collapsed them to their shortest heights and hooked the corners of each afghan onto them, effectively creating a cozy, private nook for the children.

“Yay!” Evan jumped up from the sofa and ran into the fort. “Madeline, come on. This is great!”

Only once her brother had invited her in did Madeline climb down from Cole’s arms and sit in an armchair in the cozy alcove.

Tori sat in the last empty chair and spread her hands. “Do you like it? Honey makes good forts.”

Subdued, Madeline sat still and self-contained, while Evan punched pillows into comfortable shapes. Tori’s chatter cracked their shells. Infinitesimal fissures, but there nonetheless.

Good instinct on Honey’s part to get Tori here.

Madeline still sucked her thumb. Evan beat an edgy tattoo with his heels against the armchair.

They’re mine.

God above, how was Cole to cope?

Before he fell into that trap of despair again, he called the last two women and set up their appointments an hour apart. Best to get this all over with today for his own peace of mind.

Tori peeked around the corner of an afghan and asked, “Honey, can we have snacks?”

“In a few minutes. Vy’s bringing food from the diner.”

“Vy’s coming over!” Tori clapped her hands. “Is Chels coming, too?”

The town had welcomed Sam Carmichael and his daughter, Chelsea, just a couple of months ago, and already they were fast friends with the entire group of women revitalizing the town fair. For over a hundred years, it had drawn people from miles around for a full week every August, but it had closed down fifteen years ago when the owner had grown too old to keep up with the work.

Now, six local women, including Honey, were reviving it and restoring the rides for a new run for a week in August, hoping to bring in tourists and locals alike, and much needed income for the town.

Honey was in charge of refreshment stands and had already ordered the supplies and hired local women and students to prepare the food and run the booths.

As sheriff, Cole made a point of keeping up-to-date on everything going on in town, particularly the arrival of strangers.

After a rocky start, Sam had turned out to be the fair owner’s grandson and an okay guy, even pairing up with the town’s diner owner. An unlikely friendship had developed between newly adolescent Chelsea and four-year-old Tori.

“Is Chels coming?” Tori repeated.

“I think only Vy,” Honey said.

Tori scrambled out of the armchair. “Mommy, I needs your phone. I gots to call Vy. She needs to bring Chels.”

Rachel handed her cell to her daughter. Like a miniature expert, the child unlocked it, located the number and placed the call.

“It’s Tori, Vy! Hi! Bring Chels to Honey’s house, okay?”

Silence while Tori listened, followed by an argument. “She will so want to come. Please? My friend Mad and me needs hot-pink nail polish with sparkles. Ask her, okay?”

Again silence and then Tori said, “Okay. See you soon. Love you!” A second later, she squealed, “Love you, three!” and disconnected. She returned to the armchair fort, throwing back over her shoulder, “Chels is coming.”

Cole smiled. That child could move mountains.

A moment later, Tori backed out of the fort. From Cole’s spot at the sunny end of the room, he noted her distress.

“Mommy, Mad is crying.” Tori looked just this side of giving in to tears herself.

Cole moved to intervene, but Rachel got there first and placed a comforting hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked.

Madeline crooked one tiny finger at Tori, who leaned close and listened to the whispering in her ear. “She said she’s not Mad.”

“Of course she isn’t. Why did you call her mad?”

“Her name is long. I gives everybody a nickname, Mommy.”

“Fair enough. ‘Madeline’ is a mouthful. She might like Maddy. It’s pretty. Try it out and see what her reaction is.”

Tori leaned close to Madeline. “Your name is long. I can call you Maddy, okay?”

Madeline nodded, and peace was restored.

Rachel reached to wipe Madeline’s cheeks, but she reared back. Honey exchanged a glance with her friend.

Since the funeral, only Cole had been able to hold Madeline. She wouldn’t even go to his sister’s best friend. But she’d wanted Honey to hold her.

He’d thought maybe Madeline was softening. But she’d rejected Rachel, who was about as warm as a person could be, who loved children, and who was loved by children in return.

How was Madeline going to be with Tanya? Cole hadn’t expected this wrinkle.

His legs wanted to pace. His feet itched to carry him far away.

A breath whooshed out of him. He’d pushed through the past week with sheer discipline, but now that he was home in Rodeo, he’d hit a wall.

And yet, he had so far to go. His new life had only just begun, with no time for fatigue. In coming home, he hadn’t reached the end, but a beginning.

He didn’t have a clue how to live this new life.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, his palm rasping across his unshaven jaw.

He drained the last of his coffee. Honey was right. The warm drink had restored a semblance of calm.

Needing another one, he stood. Already way ahead of him, Honey took his mug and refilled it.

He had to resist her allure.

If he let himself go, he would grab hold of her and never, ever release her again.

He wanted Honey that badly.

Her touch staggered him, weakened him and made him wish for things he knew could never be.

That bit of foolishness when he’d taken her hand and held on for dear life had been a mistake, simply his neediness taking over.

He loved her.

He shouldn’t. He knew in his heart they wouldn’t suit each other. Experience had taught him irreversible lessons.

Case closed.

She handed his coffee then stepped away, passing through a shaft of sunlight. His breath caught.

She really was one of the prettiest women for miles around. Honey’s deep-set blue eyes studied the world with captivating intelligence. Long, blond curls touched the base of her spine. A wide-necked white blouse fell from one shoulder while a belt cinched in her waist above a flowing blue skirt. Turquoise and silver jewelry at wrists, ears and throat shone in the sunbeam.

Her lush figure, pocket-size compared to his six-one frame, well... Cole swallowed. He couldn’t dwell on that too much. He’d ached for her for too long.

Best to ignore physical desires.

The absolute perfection of Honey Armstrong, though, was her smile—the one she flashed often for every man, woman and child in Rodeo. It turned prettiness into beauty.

Cole turned away and steeled himself.

The door that separated the apartment from the stairs down to the street opened. Violet Summer burst into the room. Exactly the kind of entrance bold, confident Vy liked to make. She waved to Cole at the other end of the living room. He raised one hand in a modified version of Vy’s flamboyance.

He liked Vy a lot. She was one of the town’s go-to sources of good common sense in the midst of any crisis. Plus, she sold great food at respectable prices and treated everyone with sincere, if sarcastic, good humor.

Chelsea followed her in, and Tori launched herself at her friend. They hugged.

“Did you bringed the nail polish?” Tori asked.

“What do you think, pipsqueak?”

Tori giggled. “’Kay.”

They put boxes on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room and unloaded them. They must have cleaned out all of the diner’s Saturday leftovers.

Honey took Vy’s hand and led her down the hallway. Rachel followed. Cole knew what that meant—his story being shared.

He hated it, loathed this laying bare of his life, but he expected it. The whole town would, and should, know of it soon enough.

Rodeo was now the home of his sister’s two children, and the townspeople needed to get to know them.

He knew everything there was to know about his fellow citizens. Why shouldn’t they know about him? He’d protected his past from them, though. That was his and his alone.

But the children’s story would spread, naturally.

Vy strode back into the living room and made a beeline for him. He stood to catch her in his arms when she grasped him to her curvy body.

She held on for long moments, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

They both knew it was inadequate, but her concern was welcome nonetheless.

When he could take no more of her sympathy, he set her away from him. He glanced down and smiled to relieve the grief building in him like a pressure cooker about to blow.

God knew he didn’t want to cry in front of these women and the children. That would set off everyone, especially Evan and Madeline.

“Is it my imagination, or are you showing?”

Vy swatted his shoulder. “A man should never discuss a woman’s weight.” She dropped the fake outrage and grinned. “Yeah, I’m finally showing. Isn’t it awesome?”

If his answering grin wobbled around the edges, it was to be expected. He was happy for Vy, and Sam Carmichael, too, and glad they’d found each other even if the pregnancy had come shockingly quickly. Cole had no right to envy.

Vy deserved all of this and more.

When Vy turned to walk away, Cole noticed Honey watching with a frown.

What was that about?

Vy stooped in front of little Madeline.

“Hi,” she said and held out her hand.

Madeline didn’t take it.

Vy turned and tickled Tori until she giggled with delight. Tori and Vy were great friends.

Madeline and Evan watched with fascination, as well they might. Cole hadn’t been able to give them a damned bit of pleasure this past week.

He wished he knew more about their lives with his sister and her husband. His twice-yearly visits hadn’t been nearly enough to forge as strong a bond as he’d have liked with his nephew and niece.

He needed one now, this minute, but God knew how long that would take with the children so damaged.

He watched Honey placing bowls on place mats. Then she called the children to come and sit at the table.

When Madeline sat down, she started to cry.

Cole rushed over and picked her up. She cuddled her head against his chest. He knew she liked the vibrations his voice made when he talked. “What’s wrong?”

“Raisins,” she whispered for his ears only.

Honey had given the children Vy’s amazing rice pudding, some of the best comfort food on earth, thick with custard and sprinkled with nutmeg, but Madeline was obviously offended by the raisins.

“She doesn’t like raisins. Is there something else she can have?” He picked up her bowl to put it in the kitchen, but Tori’s high-pitched voice stopped him.

“Sheriff, no! I gots a big love for raisins. I eat them.”

A big love. Good lord, Tori was cute. No wonder she broke down resistance wherever she went.

He set the bowl back on the table.

“Maddy, do you likes rice pudding without raisins?” Tori asked.

Madeline nodded.

“I eat your raisins and you eat the pudding. Okay?”

Madeline nodded.

“Mommy, can you putted the raisins from Maddy’s pudding in my bowl?”

“I’ll do it,” Cole said. Tori might be here for the children’s sake, but her open, honest spirit soothed Cole as well. When he finished, the children ate.

Honey approached and rested her fingers on his arm to get his attention. He sidled away. He might crave contact with her, but Honey touching him constituted a dangerous, subversive act against his vulnerable defenses.

She was not the woman for him, he reminded himself yet again.

“Here,” she said, handing him a plate of reheated meat loaf and mashed potatoes. He could smell the garlic in them. The Summertime Diner’s food was the best.

“Eat,” Honey ordered.

He sat down in the remaining empty chair not at all certain he could swallow a bite. But he tried.

Minutes later, he’d finished the entire plate.

“Better?” Vy asked.

He nodded. A second later, Honey appeared at his side with a bowl of rice pudding for him, too, her floral essence swirling around her.

Madeline grasped a hank of Honey’s hair and held on, forcing Honey to pick her up, sit down in her chair and put the child on her lap.

Madeline pulled Honey’s hair around her head and under her chin like a nun’s wimple, leaving only a narrow portion of her face showing.

Cole put down his spoon and squeezed the bridge of his nose. How was he supposed to make life normal for children who had lost so much?

Honey picked up a bit of Maddy’s rice pudding in a spoon and fed it to her. Maddy let her.

Cole had been having trouble getting enough food into the child. Thank God for Honey.

The apartment door opened and Will, Vy’s cook, stepped in carrying a tray.

Cole glanced at Vy.

She grinned. “I asked him to make milk shakes and bring them over.”

Cole frowned. “On a Sunday? You shouldn’t have. It’s his day off.”

“I don’t mind,” Will said. “Nothing much else to do.”

That surprised Cole. Will was a big handsome guy with a wicked set of dimples that set the women of Rodeo sighing. No exaggeration. Cole had witnessed the weird phenomenon of usually sensible women falling all over Will when he indulged them with one of his rare smiles.

The women of town pursued. Will resisted. Cole had no idea why.

With a magician’s flourish, Will snatched the towel from the tray to reveal a half dozen small milk shakes in retro diner glasses.

“Who wants one?”

All three tiny heads nodded, as did Chelsea.

“Who are these two little ones I haven’t met?”

“I’m Evan.”

Will shook his hand.

Madeline didn’t say a word. “That’s my sister, Madeline,” Evan clarified.

Will leaned close. Madeline stared at the colorful drinks. “I have vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. What is your choice?”

Will made no mention of the odd way Maddy sat surrounded by Honey’s hair. Good man.

Madeline pointed to a pink milk shake. Will put it on the place mat in front of her, then asked Evan, Tori and Chelsea which flavors they preferred.

The front doorbell rang.

“It’s like Grand Central Station in here,” Cole muttered before remembering he was interviewing today.

God, he was tired.

Honey headed downstairs. The room had filled up with adults and children, but the second Honey left, so did all of the room’s warmth.

Cole’s mantra—if Honey is there, I am aware—ran through him.

She returned with Tanya Mayhall.

Tanya, a solidly built, affectionate middle-aged woman with not one sharp edge about her, searched the room for Cole with a worried frown.

He stood and approached.

As naturally as the sun rose each day, she took him into her arms.

He went willingly.

If ever a woman was designed to be a mother, it was Tanya. Madeline and Evan might need mothering right now, but, strangely, so did Cole.

Tanya had a strong grip. He returned it. She enveloped him with not only the warmth of her affection and empathy but also a complex cloud of lavender and vanilla.

Cole sighed.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Tanya whispered. Her response did nothing to change what had happened but was heartfelt and welcome.

Over her shoulder, Cole again noted a puzzling frown from Honey.

Chapter Three

Honey watched another woman embrace Cole.

Why should it bother her? That flash of tenderness toward him earlier had unnerved her with its intensity. She didn’t harbor hopes of a relationship with Cole. So why feel jealous because he was taking hugs from other women? For a woman who knew her own mind, this confusion didn’t sit well with Honey.

Tanya released Cole but held his face between her hands and spoke quietly. The tension in Cole’s shoulders eased.

Tanya brushed a hand across the creases on his brow, and Honey could almost see Cole’s burden lighten.

What was Tanya saying? What words of comfort did she have for Cole that Honey hadn’t managed to come up with?

She’d never felt this lack in herself before.

Why did she feel awkward with Cole, not in everyday life, but now that there was something out of the ordinary happening to him? Now that she was called on to see him differently?

To maybe not take his presence for granted?

Tanya turned to the rest of the group and said hello. A still-handsome woman in her late fifties, she’d raised four great children.

She could certainly handle these two little ones.

When Tanya stepped close to the table and talked to the children, Madeline wouldn’t let Tanya touch her.

Tanya returned to the far end of the room with Cole.

Honey sent the children back into their armchair fort. Chelsea, no longer a child but not yet an adult, either, was allowed into their tiny circle.

Honey poured a cup of tea and brought it to Tanya.

Did Cole even know the right questions to ask a nanny?

He glanced at her, and, in that brief meeting of eyes, she saw doubt.

He gestured with his head for Honey to join them.

Honey knew he was capable. He interviewed criminals all the time. But this was different. Maybe he felt overwhelmed.

* * *

WHEN HONEY HANDED the cup of tea to Tanya and her arm brushed Cole’s shoulder, he struggled not to pull away from her touch, from all of the good feelings she engendered in him. Feelings that scorched where his skin had thinned with grief and need.

He wanted Honey.

He had always wanted her.

He had nowhere to put these feelings, no one he could trust with them.

Honey would never trample his heart, but his judgment had been poor in the past and could be poor still, and it was all tangled up with the awful way he’d been raised.

Normally he could deal with how she affected him and could hide his feelings, but not now when his emotions were a teardrop away.

Not now when he wanted to bury himself in Honey’s grace and good humor and never let go.

Silently, he asked her to join him in the interview. Maybe she would catch something he missed. Maybe she knew something children needed that he hadn’t thought of.

Tanya watched it all with eyes that saw too much.

He hadn’t fooled her. He didn’t think the town knew how he felt about Honey, but Tanya had just caught a glimpse, and that left him uncomfortable. It angered him.

Unacceptable.

Maybe that was why his questions became tougher than merely determining her hours of availability and how she felt about children.

“How would you spend your time with Evan and Madeline?”

“They’re young still. It’s already June so school is over for the year, but I would teach them every day. Along with playtime, they would have studies.”

“Studies?” At Madeline’s age? In the cave, with the barest touch, Chelsea applied hot-pink polish to Madeline’s tiny fingernails.

Madeline watched Chelsea intently. There was barely anything there to paint, those little nails small and fragile.

God, anything, everything could hurt that child. And what about Evan? He put on a better show than Madeline, but Cole knew how much he cried at night for his parents.

“Madeline is young,” he said. Petite. Vulnerable. Depending on him to protect her. “What would those studies look like?”

“It’s never too early to start teaching the alphabet.”

God! The alphabet! “But how would you do that?”

“By showing it to her every day. By reading books and teaching her simple words.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun,” he said.

“Cole, it would be normal for a child her age,” Honey said, watching him with a frown. “Children as young as two can sing the alphabet and enjoy doing so. What Tanya is offering is appropriate.”

“But—” Cole couldn’t articulate why it bothered him. “Tanya, what is your teaching background?”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t have a teacher’s certificate. You know that, Cole. I’ll use the same methods I used with my four children who are all at college now. They’re smart young people.”

“Yes, they are.” Cole knew that, but he glanced at Evan and Madeline, looking too solemn for their ages. “I just want them to have fun.” A little desperately, he added, “Just for the summer.”

Tanya and Honey exchanged a glance. In it, he saw worry. Was he being unreasonable? God, he didn’t know.

“Tanya, thanks for coming in today.” Cole stood and Tanya followed. “I have a couple of other candidates to interview. I’ll call, okay?”

Tanya looked puzzled.

He’d ended the interview too abruptly. His timing and instincts were way off.

“Sure thing, Cole.”

Five minutes later, after she said goodbye to everyone and tried again to connect with Madeline, who turned away, Cole escorted her out of the apartment.

When he came back upstairs, Honey asked quietly, “What was that about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Evan and Madeline are not too young to learn. Sure, Madeline won’t start kindergarten in August, but there’s always preschool.”

Cole dug in. “Madeline’s too young to go to school, even preschool.”

“Are you afraid she’s not ready to meet new kids? She might be by August.”

Cole crossed his arms. “Maybe.”

“Okay then, maybe, but Tanya’s idea of reading to her often and teaching her the alphabet is strong.”

“Maybe.”

Honey hissed out a breath. “Cole, you are not going to damage those children by teaching them. Tanya’s ideas are a low-pressure way to prepare Madeline for school.”

“School!” he spat out. “How can we talk about school? Look at how tiny she is.” He pointed toward the fort. “She’s only three and a half years old!”

Honey backed away from him, and he realized he was looming over her. He eased off.

Honey’s shoulders relaxed. “It’s not as if Tanya was suggesting drills and flash cards.”

“Yeah, but...” He didn’t have a good reason for not choosing Tanya.

“Cole, I know you’re scared—”

“I’m not scared.”

Honey crossed her arms and stared at him.

“I—” Okay, he was scared. All of it—the new parenting, hiring a nanny, being responsible for kids who were still crying at night because they missed their parents—terrified him. “It’s a big decision.”

Honey softened. “Yes, it is.”

“They cry at night,” he admitted and her expression softened.

“I understand.”

Cole shrugged. “I—Honey, I don’t know why, but Tanya’s not quite right.”

“Tanya Mayhall is not quite right to babysit?” Rachel had walked up and heard him. Her skepticism mirrored Honey’s. “She’s perfect.”

Again Cole shrugged, helpless and irritated. “Support me on this. Please.” After a glance between them, they nodded.

Cole retrieved Tanya’s teacup and brought it to the kitchen. Honey took it from him. The second her fingers touched his, he stepped away. She did the same thing. He wasn’t a skittish kind of man. She wasn’t a jumpy woman.

Whew. This situation was getting on everyone’s nerves.

“Who did you book next?” Honey asked.

“Ellen Clarkson.”

Rachel nodded along with Honey. “Another good possibility,” she said.

Cole sat near the window again, exhausted but with two more interviews still to conduct.

After sitting with her fingers splayed like frog digits until the polish dried, Madeline climbed out of the cave and ran to the window.

In the sunlight, her nails sparkled. He’d be surprised if they were any longer than a quarter of an inch from cuticle to tip.

Her fragility, her utter dependence on him, sent him trembling with insecurity. He glanced at Evan. Cole saw vulnerability there, too. Their losses were huge.

Give him a bunch of bad guys to round up and throw into jail. Give him a fistfight to resolve with his own fists if necessary, or a gun to face down, but not, not this.

Madeline held her hands out to Cole. He lifted her onto his lap with the care deserving of a glass ornament and admired the paint job before placing a soft kiss on her forehead and holding her close, his cheek on her tiny head. An aching tenderness swept through him.

When Vy and Chelsea left to head home, Cole hugged them goodbye.

Ellen arrived moments later.

Again, Cole stood through another hug. He loved his townspeople. He loved these women, but their sympathy ripped off countless bandages, tearing open his wounds.

When the time was decent enough, he set her away from him. He asked Honey to sit in on the interview.

Small and elfin, Ellen had a perky way about her that might appeal to the children.

“Hi,” she said to the kids inside the cave. “I’m Ellen.”

Madeline turned her face into a pillow, refusing to look at the woman, let alone acknowledge her.

Evan drummed his feet. “Hi!”

Cole sat down with Ellen while the children resumed their quiet play in the cave. Too quiet.

Again, as with Tanya, he covered the basics, then moved on to, “How would you fill your time with the children?”

“Play! We’d do lots of fun stuff.”

Yes! Fun stuff sounded good.

“Like what?”

“We’d get outside every day, rain or shine. Children shouldn’t be indoors. Ever. Unless they’re sleeping. They should be involved in physical activity. Tires them out.”

“But you’d have quiet time indoors, too, right?”

“Don’t see why I should. Raised all of my kids to enjoy the outdoors. You know Karen’s being considered for the Olympic ski team? Downhill racing. Richard’s studying to be a phys-ed teacher. Football’s his specialty. Likes to coach. Thinks all kids need to be physically active. I taught him that.”

But Evan loved to read comic books and do puzzles. Madeline liked to play with dolls and jigsaw puzzles with huge cardboard or wooden pieces. Cole knew that much about them.

“But—”

Ellen talked over him. “Kids need to be outdoors, Cole. You have to understand how important that is.”

He foresaw arguments. Yes, children needed to be outdoors, especially with summer so close, but even when it rained? He wanted them out swimming and playing at the splash pad the town had set up in the park.

But all the time?

He thanked Ellen for coming out and told her he’d be in touch.

“Think of what I said, Cole. Outdoors. Important. Necessary.”

She bent to give Madeline a kiss on her cheek, despite her cool reception on her arrival.

Madeline turned her back to Ellen. In other circumstances, the action would have been almost comical.

“I can fix that with plenty of play,” Ellen said, ignoring the fact that the child had just lost her parents.

He nodded and closed the door behind her, trudging back upstairs to face Honey and Rachel.

They watched him silently.

He shook his head.

“I agree, Cole,” Honey said. “She’s not right. Not for Evan and Madeline. Not at this time, at any rate.”

Cole exhaled. He hadn’t wanted Honey to fight him on this.

He’d been dropped into an alternate-reality version of Goldilocks.

Tanya was too hard. Studies. For a three-and-a-half-year-old. Well, maybe not according to Honey, but in Cole’s mind? Yeah. Give the child another year.

Or maybe not. It was only reading. God, he didn’t know!

But compared to Ellen’s stringent approach, maybe Tanya was too soft.

Would Maria Tripoli be just right? He’d know in—he checked his watch—twenty minutes.

Half an hour later, he watched Maria leave and knew she was pretty darn close to what he needed. Not too hard, not too soft. But perfect?

He couldn’t decide.

Was there such a thing where Evan and Madeline were concerned?

Madeline had resisted overtures from even affectionate, nonthreatening Maria. If Maria couldn’t physically touch her, how could she care for her?

Honey and Rachel watched him.

What could he say?

I can’t hire these women because I can’t give these children over to anyone but myself?

Unreasonable. He had to work. His deputies could cover for the coming week, no problem, but that was it. He’d taken off suddenly last week, and they’d filled in for him. But now he needed to get back to his job.

In one week, he would need this settled.

Tori peeked her head out of the cave.

“Honey, can we have snacks?”

“Again? You want food again?”

Madeline looked stricken by her tone, but Tori giggled, seeing right through Honey’s phony indignation. “We’re hungry already, Honey.”

“Okay. Let’s see what else Vy brought for us.”

“Can we have crackers and jam, Honey?”

“What makes you think I have all of that, missy?”

“You always haves them for me.”

Honey burst out laughing, her smile a slash of rich sunshine on a cloudy day. God, she brightened his spirits.

Cole basked in her reflected glow, trying to convince himself yet again that it was enough just to be near her. That he didn’t need more. That her good cheer was worth taking a risk when his past shouted, Don’t do it, fool! You know better.

He’d arrived in town fourteen years ago with a few bucks in his pocket and not much else. Honey had been a budding teenager, fourteen at a guess, and far too young for him to even notice.

He’d come from a bad and aching place. He’d put it all behind himself and had flourished here in Rodeo, working in law enforcement.

Four years later, when she’d been old enough for him not only to notice but to fall for hard, Cole found he couldn’t utter a full sentence that made a damned bit of sense when Honey was around.

She tied his brain and his tongue into knots.

Honey brought out all of his old insecurities.

By then, there’d also been Daniel in her life, and Cole had lost all hope.

Seven years ago, Daniel had died. Not well or easily. Cole had witnessed it and, at Daniel’s request, had lied to Honey about aspects of it. Cole could never forget his role in that cover-up.

Honey had been inconsolable for a long time.

Six years ago, she’d lost her mother. He’d had no soothing words or caring hugs. He’d overcome a lot of the damage his parents had done to him, but not when it came to Honey.

Even an expression of condolence had been more than he could make.

The only way Cole had found to ease her pain was to help at the bar on the weekends. She and her mother had been a real team. Honey had grown up in this apartment over the bar her mother had named for her, hoping that someday her daughter would take it over. As soon as Honey was old enough, she had started to work there. When her mother died, she had inherited the bar.

Cole had stopped in on the first Friday night after her mother’s death, intending to do nothing more than make sure Honey was okay.

At that time, she hadn’t been used to running the place without her mother there. When Honey had needed a break, Cole had stepped behind the bar and filled in.

Nothing had been said, by him or by her.

Somehow, he’d just kept going back.

Those Friday and Saturday nights were bittersweet torture, but he wouldn’t give them up for anything.

Honey bent over Tori, laughing. “I do always have crackers for you, don’t I?” she said. A curtain of Honey’s blond curls covered Tori.

Madeline’s tiny fingers inched forward and grabbed it. Automatically, Honey picked her up. Madeline nestled into her arms and into the shield of her hair.

“Everyone to the table,” Honey ordered. “No crunchy crackers on my furniture, if you please.”

They climbed onto the chairs and settled in to wait.

Honey pulled out a box of saltines, buttered them and spread a little raspberry jam on each.

She put plates of crackers in front of the children.

Tori turned to kneel on the chair, grasping the rungs on the back and threw her arms around Honey. “I love you.”

Honey bussed her loudly on her puckered lips. “I love you, too, Tori-ori-ori-o.”

Madeline turned around to kneel on her chair and stare at Honey.

About to return to the kitchen, Honey stopped, arrested. She glanced at Cole, unsure what to do. He didn’t know, either.

He held his breath.

Sure, Madeline had allowed Honey to hold her, but this went way past that.

Madeline stretched her tiny arms toward Honey and pursed her tiny mouth.

Honey approached cautiously and touched her lips to the rosebud mouth.

When she eased away, she said, “Thank you, Maddy-addy-addy-o.”

For a protracted moment, Madeline stared solemnly before scrambling around on her chair and sitting down. She picked up one cracker and took a tiny bite. It crumbled into her lap. Her lower lip wobbled.

Honey said, “No problem. Those crackers do that all the time.”

“To me, too, Honey. Remember before?” Tori asked.

Honey brushed off the crumbs and threw them into the garbage. She pushed Madeline closer to the table and drew the plate right under her chin.

“There. Now the crumbs will fall onto the plate.”

Evan sat quietly watching it all. Cole crouched beside him and asked, “How’re you doing?”

The child mumbled, “Okay,” but Cole hadn’t missed the longing while he watched Honey’s interplay with the girls.

Honey’s keen eye caught it all. Cole should have known she would.

When the children finished, Honey brought a damp washcloth over to wipe their hands. She started with Evan and made a fuss over him, so much so his cheeks turned red. Still crouched on his other side, Cole felt the same impulse Madeline had felt when Honey’s hair fell forward.

He itched to run his fingers through it. Over the years, he’d wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

Next, Honey finished with Madeline, who let her clean her jam-sticky hands.

Madeline turned over her hands and held them in front of Honey.

“Yes, I noticed your lovely nails. Chelsea did a fabuloso job, didn’t she?”

Madeline nodded and Cole sighed.

The child had accepted Honey through and through.

She was letting Honey touch her.

She had let Honey kiss her.

Cole stared, shattered by a realization he should have seen sooner.

Honey would make an excellent caregiver. The children’s new nanny had to be Honey.

She might not be right for him, but she was perfect for the children.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it had to be Honey. Well, yeah, one doubt—a big one—her work. Her bar. But otherwise, she was perfect as a nanny. Surely, they could work it out somehow?

“Honey?”

She glanced over her shoulder from the kitchen where she rinsed the washcloth.

“Could I talk to you?” Gesturing with his head toward the hallway, he stepped forward.

With a questioning brow, she preceded him toward the back of the apartment, away from little ears.

“Rachel,” Cole murmured, “watch the kids?”

“Of course.”

Now to convince Honey, a woman who ran a busy and successful business, that he needed her to take care of his children.

It might look like selfishness on his part, but no. It was all about Evan and Madeline.

Honey stepped into her bedroom and Cole halted at the doorway, not sure he wanted to get close to her here. Even so small an intimacy threatened him, especially now, in this time of vulnerable need.

Whatever he had expected should he ever step into Honey Armstrong’s bedroom, it wasn’t this.

Charcoal walls closed in the space, making the large room small and cozy. White linen and lace everywhere brightened things. The startling contrast worked.

With Honey’s take-charge character, he hadn’t expected lace. Sure, she wore a lot of fancy turquoise-and-silver jewelry and leaned toward off-the-shoulder white tops, but making love to her here would be like bedding down in a big bowl of confectioners’ sugar.

It would be amazing.

Honey stood beside her bed, and Cole swallowed. It sounded loud in the quiet room.

Because he’d dreamed so many times of making love to Honey, he stayed where he was in the doorway, far away from all of that feminine lace and fancy wrought iron.

Had the bed been made for her? It was unique enough. Cole could see Honey sketching out what she wanted and having it styled just for her, controlling every minute particle of her life.

Above the bed hung a huge abstract landscape painting in purples, reds and silver. Another contrast. Honey and her passion in oil on canvas.

Had the artist known her?

The name came to him quickly. Local artist Zachary Brandt, whose landscapes hung all over town. None of them was like this one, though. He’d nailed Honey. Metaphorically, at least. Cole hoped they’d never had a relationship, especially not in this very room.

Cole liked the guy. He didn’t want to harbor feelings of jealousy.

Honey cocked her head. “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, uh...” He didn’t have a clue how to broach the subject, so he blurted, “I want you for the children.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to be their nanny.”

Chapter Four

“What?” In her shock, Honey’s voice came out strident.

She had to have heard Cole wrong. He had not just asked her to be his nanny.

Not that there was anything wrong with the job. In other circumstances, it would be perfect for her, particularly because she loved children.

But she also loved her business, the bar she ran so well.

What on earth was the man thinking?

“You can’t be serious, Cole.”

“I am.”

He took on that expression of stubborn force she’d seen in the bar when he dealt with drunks. Cole was an easygoing guy until you crossed him. Then he wanted his way.

The guy could be so rigid. It made him a good sheriff. He kept the town in line even as everyone respected him. But now was not the time for obstinacy.

“There was absolutely nothing wrong with Maria Tripoli,” she argued.

Cole leaned an arm up high on the doorjamb and cocked a hip. The man sure knew how to look attractive, but his charms didn’t work on her when he was suggesting something so outrageous.

“Maria was good,” he said, as though making a big concession. “She’s a nice lady, but—”

He chewed on his lower lip, his frustration evident along with his exhaustion.

“But?” Honey prompted.

“Madeline won’t let her touch her.”

Ah. “So I’m deemed adequate because I could get her to let me wipe her hands clean?”

“She lets you hold her.”

“True, but that’s just because of my hair. You said that reminds her of her mother.”

Silent for so long Honey thought he wouldn’t answer, Cole finally responded with emotion thickening his voice. “It was the kiss.”

“Oh.” Honey considered that. “But why is that so important?”

“She let you wipe her hands and hold her, but she asked for the kiss.”

“Okay, so?” Honey’s frustration edged into her voice.

“So, not one single woman has been able to touch her except you. Not her grandmother or women who were friends with my sister and who Madeline knew well. Since the accident and all during the funeral, she wouldn’t let any other women hold her.”

Cole held her gaze, as though to get her to agree with him by sheer force of will. “She didn’t let you kiss her,” he repeated. “She asked for it.”

She pointed toward the floor, indicating the bar downstairs. “What about my business?”

“I don’t know, Honey. I guess my concern is the child. It’s a huge thing to ask, but it’s not for me. Madeline responded to you. It’s for the children. Both of them. Evan doesn’t show it, but he needs affection, too.”

Honey was drawn to little girls, but she had noticed Evan’s longing and made a note to give him more attention.

“I don’t know what to do with them, Honey.”

All his grief, all the weight of his dilemma and burden ravaged his face.

“Were you close to your sister?”

“She was my salvation.”

Salvation. Strong word. “What do you mean?”

His gaze slid away from her to the fist he pounded gently against the doorjamb. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She’d never heard a whisper about his past. Cole had a right to his privacy. She wouldn’t push it, but salvation signified huge feelings.

She could feel his pain, but she couldn’t see how she could take care of the children and still run the bar.

“Okay, listen, this is what we’ll do. Tomorrow you’ll have to interview more nannies until you find one. I can’t be it, Cole.”

In his expression disappointment transmuted into acceptance. He exhaled roughly. “Will you take care of them while I talk to more people?”

“I can’t. We have Rib Fest in front of the bar through lunch.”

Cole groaned. “I forgot about that. Do you have to do it?”

“It’s a fund-raiser for the revival of the fair and rodeo. I have a ton of ribs marinating downstairs. Chet’s coming in this evening to boil them.”

He knocked his fist against the doorjamb again. She could see his mind working.

“No.” She preempted him. “I will not leave Chet to take care of it alone. He’ll be cooking all morning and serving for two hours over lunch. We presold hundreds of tickets. It’s our biggest fund-raiser yet.”

He opened his mouth, closed it.

“You’re being unreasonable in your need and shock, Cole. Don’t ask me to cancel or abandon Chet.”

He hung his head. “You’re right, of course.”

“I can enlist my friends to help with them. While that’s happening, you interview more women to find someone who’s just right.”

“What if no one else can get through to Madeline? So far, it’s only you, Honey.”

“Don’t use guilt on me, Cole. I don’t appreciate it. I’ll spend as much spare time as I can with Madeline, but you have to find someone who can care for the children full-time. Okay?”

Cole nodded, but she wasn’t at all certain she’d gotten through to him.

“I mean it, Cole. I expect you to put in your best effort to find someone else.”

“I will,” he promised, and she believed him.

A tiny head peered around Cole’s legs—Madeline, her blue eyes a miniature version of her uncle’s, but large in her tiny face. Every bit as haunted as his, they softened Honey’s defenses, and that would not do.

She couldn’t offer everything Cole needed, but she would give as much as she could.

Madeline stared at the bed, took one step forward, changed her mind and retreated to hide against Cole’s leg.

“You want to get up on it?” Cole asked.

The tiny head, face pressed against Cole’s knee, nodded.

The girl approached and touched the lace on Honey’s pillowcase.

* * *

COLE STEPPED FORWARD and lifted Madeline up onto all of Honey’s lace. A photo on the bedside table caught his eye.

Daniel, with the devil in his bright eyes and a cheeky grin. Still in her bedroom. Still in her heart?

Cole had lied to Honey about Daniel.

He frowned and tried to shake off the old guilt, but couldn’t.

Maddy snuggled into the middle of Honey’s five lace-covered pillows, stuck her thumb into her mouth and closed her eyes.

“Oh!” Honey exclaimed. “We need to get her settled into wherever she’ll be sleeping tonight.”

Cole realized the same thing. He picked up Madeline, whose eyes shot open. She stared wide-eyed at him and back at the bed, chin wobbling.

“Let’s go home,” he said then grimaced when Madeline looked hopeful.

“To your new home,” he qualified.

Expression settling into resignation, she rubbed her head against Cole’s shoulder.

Darling, you’re breaking my heart.

Honey swore under her breath. Cole felt the same way. No child should have to face such harsh reality.

Honey led them out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the living room.

“We’re going to take the children to Cole’s apartment and get them settled in,” she told Rachel, who sat on the sofa nursing Beth under a blanket. Evan and Tori played quietly in the cave.

“May I make a suggestion?” Rachel adjusted her daughter beneath the blanket.

“What’s that?” Cole asked.

“Why don’t you and Honey go over and get everything set up first while I watch the children?”

“Good idea,” Cole said, so close behind Honey his breath ruffled her hair. He stepped away to lay Madeline down at the opposite end of the sofa and snagged an afghan to cover her.

“We’ll be back soon,” he said.

Honey headed downstairs, and Cole followed.

They stepped into sunshine painting Main Street bright and sharp. Families wandered the street toward the park at the far end or drove through town at a leisurely Sunday pace as though this were a normal day, as though Cole hadn’t brought home two children today.

Across the road and down a few stores, Cole unlocked the door to his apartment above the cop shop. They climbed a narrow staircase that opened into a living room.

Cole wandered the room turning on lamps, because, despite the sunny day, not a lot of sunshine leaked in through the small window.

He studied his place as though through Honey’s eyes.

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