Mary Sullivan - Rodeo Sheriff

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.