The Cowboy's Unexpected Family

She hitched her loose pants up higher on her hips. “Which offer?”

That kiss was suddenly between them, as real as the dirt on her face, and he wondered if maybe that wasn’t another complication. It was one thing trying to get help for Ben, but he wanted to sleep with that help. And maybe that was too many blurred lines.

“The Ben offer?” she asked, using the back of her wrist to push some hair off her face.

He nodded and forced himself to say the words he’s come here to say. “I need help. And if you are still offering, I...I would appreciate it.”

“I don’t know, Jeremiah. You were an ass to me.”

Leave it to Lucy to be so blunt. For a moment he was caught flat-footed by it. But he decided to meet her bluntness with his own. Honesty, Dr. Gilman had said, was always the right decision. “I know, and I’m sorry. I truly am. I’ve just been doing this by myself for so long...I’m no good at admitting I’m wrong and I just took it out on you. I am sorry. My mom raised me better than that.”

She cocked her head at him as if he were something in the distance she couldn’t quite see or make sense of. And then, suddenly, she smiled. “That was hard for you, wasn’t it?”

He blew out a breath, laughing slightly. “You have no idea.”

“Why’d you change your mind?”

He stared off at the blue horizon. If he couldn’t get Ben in to see Dr. Gilman, he needed to find another way to get some help, and here she was.

“When Annie first died, people always asked me what they could do to help. And I had no idea how to answer. No idea. Either I didn’t believe they were sincere, or I saw strings attached to every casserole women brought over or I didn’t…want anyone to see what a mess I was making of everything. I just told everyone I could handle it. I…pushed a lot of good people away. And then…people stopped asking. And it has come to my attention that if someone offers to help, I should take it. And you’re the only one who has offered to help in a long time. Apparently…” He tried to make a joke, but it was so damn sad it came out like a lame calf, limping around. “…I need a few more friends in my life.”

He was utterly vulnerable. Utterly naked.

Help me, he thought. I don’t know what else to do.

For a moment it seemed like she was going to say no, and the defeat, something he’d been unused to before taking on his sister’s life, was crushing.

But then she smiled—saucy and real. The confident gypsy returned and with her, his balance in the world.

“So? What do you propose? About Ben.”

Relief made him a little giddy and he laughed. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

“He’s really got you in a knot.”

“He’s so angry, Lucy. You saw him, he’s nine years old and he drove a sports car into a house! He could have killed himself. And I feel like every time I open my mouth I make things worse.”

“He says you hate him.”

It felt like his bones were breaking under the load on his back and he slumped.

“Come on, Jeremiah,” she whispered. Her hand curled around his arm, squeezing for comfort, and he wanted—so badly—to pull her into his arms. To find even more comfort. To find a second of peace. “Here.” She dropped his hand and crouched to grab two bottles of water—one half empty—and a bowl of strawberries that looked as if she’d just picked them. She led him over to a small hill, where the land sloped down to a gully. In early spring the runoff from the higher ground made a stream. Now it was full of columbine and Indian paintbrush.

Collapsing onto the ground with a sigh she stretched out her legs and popped a strawberry into her mouth.

“Ugh.” She pulled a face he’d seen on Casey’s mug a thousand times. They called it the yuck face. “Those aren’t ripe yet.” She set aside the bowl and cracked open the half-empty bottle of water.

She was as beautiful to him right now as she’d been that night in the moonlight with the clingy clothes and the sexy boots.

He realized she was blinking up at him, her dark eyes missing nothing.

“My offer to help was about Ben,” she said. “Not about you. Or that kiss. If I help Ben there’s no more kissing.”

It was for the best, he knew that. Would have said it himself if he thought she wouldn’t take it the wrong way, but still he was torn right down the middle by her sound reasoning and perception.

Because he really, really wanted to kiss her again.

“I think that’s...that’s a good idea.” It would be easier if he could just turn off his body. Blind himself to her appeal, but he couldn’t. So it was just going to have to be something he ignored. Which was sort of like ignoring a pink elephant in a tutu.