“No internet connection, no cell phone reception,” Luke predicted.
“That’s not true. Last time I visited Gram, I used my cell phone.” She didn’t volunteer the information that she’d had to stand with one foot in the laundry room and the other on the attached porch, leaning forty-five degrees to the left while holding on to the dryer. Maybe service had improved since then.
“This is the middle of nowhere! Nobody could possibly live here.”
She jerked a thumb toward the side of the road. “The mailboxes suggest otherwise.” She appreciated that the mailboxes they’d passed were spread out at roomy intervals. They’d had a nice enough home in the suburbs, but the yards were so small that when Damon used to throw a football with Luke, they spent half their time knocking on the neighbor’s door to retrieve the ball from the fenced backyard.
“You’re going to love it here,” she told Luke. “Lots of community spirit and camaraderie, plenty of home-cooking and fresh air.”
He rolled down his window, inhaled deeply, then grimaced. “The fresh air smells like cow poop.”
She ground her teeth, refusing to let him spoil her mood. He’ll come around with time. Her first victory might even be as soon as tonight. Gram could cook like nobody’s business, and Luke was a growing boy. A couple of helpings of chicken-fried steak or slow-cooked brisket should improve his outlook on life.
They’d be at the farm in twenty minutes. As eager as Kate was to get there, when she spotted the gas station down the road—the last one before Gram’s place—she knew she should stop. The fuel gauge was dropping perilously close to E. Plus, it might be good for her and Luke to get out of the car and stretch their legs for a few minutes.
While she pumped gas, Luke disappeared inside to use the restroom. Although she’d lived her entire life in Texas, sometimes the heat still caught Kate by surprise. Even in the shade, she broke a sweat. She tugged at the lightweight material of her sleeveless blouse to keep it from sticking to her damp skin, then lifted her hair away from her neck, making a mental note to look for an elastic band when she got back in the car.
While waiting for Luke, she went into the station and bought a couple of cold beverages. She’d barely pocketed her change before twisting the lid off her chilled bottle of water and taking a long drink. If Luke didn’t hurry, she might finish her water and start in on the fountain soda she held in her other hand.
He was taking a long time, and she wouldn’t put it past him to stall in a mulish display of rebellion. She turned with the intention of knocking on the door and hurrying him along, but then stopped herself. Half of parenting was picking one’s battles. They’d be at Gram’s soon, and her grandmother hadn’t seen Luke in months. Was this really the right time to antagonize him? She didn’t want him arriving at the farm surly and hostile. A smooth first night might prove to all of them that this could work.
Quit hovering, go to the car. She pivoted with renewed purpose. And crashed into a wall that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Okay, technically, the wall was a broad-shouldered man at least six inches taller than she. He wore jeans and a white polo shirt—which was a lot less white with Luke’s soda running down the front of it.
Kate opened her mouth to apologize but, “dammit!” was the first word that escaped. A high-pitched giggle snagged her attention, drawing her gaze downward.
Behind the startled-looking man were two blue-eyed little girls. They were dressed so dissimilarly that it took Kate a moment to realize they were identical. One wore a soccer jersey over camo shorts; tangles of white-blond hair hung in her face, and her sneakers looked as if they were about to disintegrate, held together only by an accumulation of dirt. The other girl was wearing a pink dress that tied at the shoulders and a pair of sparkly sandals. Someone had carefully braided her hair, and she carried a small sequined purse.
Great, she’d doused the guy with a sticky soft drink and cursed in front of his young, impressionable children. She’d been in town less than an hour and already needed a fresh start for her fresh start.
“I am so sorry.” She grabbed a handful of napkins off the counter next to the hot dog rotisserie and began frantically dabbing at his chest.
He covered her hand with his. “Let me.”
She glanced up, taking a good look at his face for the first time. Wow. Like the girls, he had eyes that were as blue as the Texas sky outside, a dramatic contrast to his jet-black hair. And his—
“Mom? What are you doing?”
Perfect. Her son picked now to return, just in time to catch her ogling a total stranger.
Without waiting for an answer, Luke scowled at the man. “Who are you?”
“Cole.” The guy had been handsome already. When he smiled, those eyes crinkling at the corners, the barest hint of a dimple softening that granite jaw, he was breathtaking. “Cole Trent.”
* * *
DESPITETHEEASY, practiced smile that came with being a public official, Cole’s mind was racing as he processed the events of the last few minutes. The jarring chill of icy soda, the rarity of finding himself face-to-face with a stranger when he knew almost everyone in Cupid’s Bow and, the biggest surprise of all, the jolt of attraction he experienced when he looked into the woman’s amber eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such an instant reaction to someone.
Was his interest visible in his expression? That could explain the waves of hostility rolling off her son as Cole introduced himself.
From behind him, Alyssa’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Daddy, can I have a candy bar?”
He turned, shaking his head. “A candy bar will ruin your appetite.”
“But I’m hungggrrry.” She drew out the word in a nasal whine.
“Which is why I’m taking you to dinner.” They’d only stopped because Mandy had insisted she needed to go to the bathroom and couldn’t wait another ten minutes to reach the restaurant; apparently, seeing him doused with soda had temporarily distracted her. “If Mandy will—”
“It’s not fair!” Alyssa’s lower lip trembled. “I didn’t get to go swimming like you said. They ran out of the color I needed to finish my picture at art camp. I don’t—”
“That’s enough,” he said firmly.
But Mandy, who could barely agree with her sister on the color of the sky, picked now of all times to demonstrate twin solidarity. She took a step closer to Alyssa. “It’s mean you won’t let her have a candy bar.”
He fought the urge to glance back at the woman with sun-streaked hair and beautiful eyes. Did she think he was inept at handling his own children? “You’re supposed to be in the bathroom,” he reminded Mandy. “If you’d hurry, we could be on our way to the Smoky Pig by now. But if the two of you don’t stop talking back, we’re headed straight home. Understand?”
The threat of having to return home and wait for Cole to cook something motivated Mandy. She navigated the tight aisles of chips and road maps in a rush. He returned his gaze to the woman. The gangly boy who’d called her mom had wandered away to refill his soda cup.
“Kids,” Cole said sheepishly. “You have days like this?”
“With a teenager?” She laughed, her dark gold eyes warm and understanding. “Try every day.”
“I keep waiting for single parenting to get easier, but sometimes I question whether I’m making any progress.”
She nodded. “Same here.”
So, she was single, too? That thought cheered him more than it should. He didn’t even know her name. Nonetheless, he grinned broadly.
She returned the smile, but then ducked her gaze to the sodden napkins in her hand. “I, uh,