The other man approached him, leading his mount. “Jed told me you were back in town. Been a heck of a long time, Mitch.”
“Yeah, it has.”
As they shook hands, Eddie came to lead the horse away. Mitch noted Laurie walking beside the boy. He tried not to notice Andi and her son emerging from the barn. She nodded at Pete before turning away.
The foreman eyed him. “I’m glad you stopped by. If you’ve got time, how about you give me a chance to shower, then come on over for a brew?” Pete lived in the manager’s house on the property, barely the length of a couple of baseball fields from the corral.
“Sure. Jed wanted us to get together. We might as well kick back while you tell me what that’s about.”
“Not a clue,” Pete said. “I saw him around noontime, but he didn’t say a word. You’ll have to find out from him for us both. Hey, Andi,” he called.
She turned back to face them. Mitch saw how carefully she kept from looking his way. No matter what she said, there was something not right. He’d have to prove that to himself...to make up for the last time he hadn’t followed his instincts.
“The boss was looking for this former cowboy earlier. Take Mitch along to the Hitching Post and help him track down Jed, will you?”
When she nodded, Pete strode into the barn.
At a much slower pace, Mitch walked to catch up with Andi and her boy. One look at her brittle smile and suddenly rigid shoulders told him how she felt about having him join them. She couldn’t have cared that much about escorting him to the hotel. Maybe she was afraid of giving herself away.
No matter how quickly she’d backed off from him and run into the barn, it had been too late. He’d already seen the truth in her widened eyes and reddening cheeks, just as he had in her reaction to his touch over at the corral. She wanted him just as much as she had years ago. But something was bothering her. Holding her back. Something she didn’t want to share with him, and maybe with anyone.
“You cowboy?” her son asked.
The kid must have remembered Pete calling him a former cowboy. He shook his head. “No, I’m a cop.”
“What’s a cop?”
“A policeman. You know, like a sheriff. With a uniform and a badge.”
“A badge? Mine.”
Andi took his hand. “You borrowed Robbie’s badge, Trey, remember?”
“Mine,” the kid repeated.
Mine, Mitch had once thought when it came to the kid’s mother.
Wishing something so didn’t make it happen. He’d first learned that years earlier with Andi’s abrupt departure. He’d had his latest lesson only a few weeks ago during an undercover op shot to hell.
Feeling he had failed in both instances didn’t sit well with him at all. He couldn’t save his partner, but he sure could try to find out what troubled Andi.
* * *
“JED IS OUT by the honeymoon cabins, I think,” Paz told them. “Tina wanted to show him something the workmen had done.”
Sagging in relief, Andi rested one hip against the kitchen table. With her son’s short legs, the walk back to the hotel had seemed to last forever. She and Mitch had discovered both the sitting room and Tina’s office empty. Now, thanks to Paz, she could send Mitch off on his own.
“Looks like you’re busy in here,” he said.
Paz nodded. Cooling racks filled with cakes and cookies had taken over almost every flat surface. The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and cloves. “It’s never too early to start my Christmas baking.”
“Cookie, Paz,” Trey demanded.
“What do you say?” Andi prompted him.
“Please.”
Smiling, Paz took a cookie from one of the racks.
“Let’s go track down Jed,” Mitch said.
Andi frowned. “You can do that on your own. I’ll stay here with Trey.”
“I think I’ve forgotten how to get to the cabins.”
She glanced at him, then away again. After what he had said about cops, she didn’t know which was worse from his perspective, locking gazes with him or refusing to look his way at all. She knew what was better for her. Looking. Staring. Getting her fill.
Better for her, but much too risky.
“That’s fine, Andi,” Paz said. “You leave Trey with me and go right along with Mitch.”
“Great,” he said, halfway across the room without waiting for her answer.
Grimly, she followed him out to the porch and down the steps. He took his time, favoring his bad leg. Despite her irritation with him, she had to bite her lip to keep from asking how much he hurt.
She was so wrapped up in concern for him, she hadn’t realized he’d reached the bottom step. He turned back, catching her off guard. Instinctively, she bit down harder, then winced from her own pain.
“It is that bad?” he asked. “Seeing how I hobble down steps like a two-year-old who’s just learned to walk?”
“You handled those steps quite a bit better than my two-year-old does,” she said matter-of-factly. Still, knowing how Mitch must feel made her eyes mist.
“Those tears for me?”
“Of course they’re not.” While she had stopped a couple of steps up, he stood on the ground, putting them at eye level. This time, she was determined not to look away, no matter how his cop’s training would interpret her stare. No matter how shaky her reaction to his blue eyes left her feeling. “I accidentally bit my lip and it hurts. Not as much as your knee must, though, I’m sure.”
“I don’t need your pity, Andi.”
“That wasn’t pity. It was a not-very-smooth attempt to find out what happened.”
“Why? So you can fix it?”
“I never said—”
“You didn’t have to. There’s nothing wrong with me a few weeks of rest won’t cure. And maybe this.”
Before she could blink, he had cupped the back of her head as gently as he had cupped her cheek, urging her toward him. Once his mouth met hers, she had nothing but the memories of another time and another place and all the feelings that came with them.
For this one long, heart-stopping, teenager-in-lust-again moment, she loved Mitch Weston as desperately as she had the last day they had been together. She kissed him as desperately, too, without a thought for her tender lip or her obligations or anything but how she’d always felt when Mitch held her. He was broader now, sturdier, more muscled...and an even better kisser.
Reluctantly, she pulled herself together, resting her hands on his wide shoulders to anchor herself. No, to prepare herself. Finally, she pushed away.
Her legs trembling, she went down the rest of the steps, fighting the urge to raise her hand to her mouth. To touch the warmth he had left against her lips. To hold back the words she would not and couldn’t afford to say.
With unsteady hands, she smoothed her hair as she attempted to catch her breath. “Are you crazy? It’s broad daylight and we’re out here in the open and anyone could have seen us. I told you I don’t want to fix you.” Liar. “So just what was that supposed to prove?”
“I thought it might