“Really?” she said haughtily.
“I don’t think you want to be teaching that boy that he can behave any old way he likes, and that there won’t be any consequences for it. Mama Bear will bail him out.”
He was right, and they both knew it.
Still, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from saying, “And you’re an expert on raising children, are you?”
She was sorry the minute she said it, knowing she was taking out all her anxiety about her move and Mac on him, and that he didn’t deserve it. Besides, as soon as she said it, in his eyes she caught a glimpse of a pain that was as raw as an open wound.
But his voice was steady, and completely unflappable. He answered slowly, measuring his words. “No, I’m sure not that. It just seems to me if you bail him out now, you’ll be bailing him out in quite a different way in the future.”
She took a deep breath, realized she was being both cranky and unfair and that he was right and she was wrong. She was completely unable to admit that. “I was worried about him. I was worried when he was gone so long.”
It was Evan’s look of genuine distress that soothed some of the irritation she had been feeling.
“I didn’t mean to cause you worry. I guess I should have called.” He smiled, shook his head and said, “I feel like I’ve said those words a few times before in my life.”
She just bet he had. Those charming dimples had probably won the hearts of hundreds of women who had waited by their phones with bated breath for his call. That never came. She planned never to be one of them. Never. That was one very good reason she couldn’t invite him to share spaghetti with them.
“I guess I thought I’d keep him out of your hair while you were at work,” he said.
He’d been doing her a favor, or thought he was, and she was giving him a hard time about it?
“He’s not such a bad kid,” she said defensively, and then realized, suddenly, how ridiculous she must seem—a mother bear protecting her cub, just as he had said.
“Ma’am, I can see that.”
“You can?”
His smile deepened and she was now certain she did not like his smile. It made him, in an instant, in to one of those men who can have anything. Anything. Had she really cooked that dinner just for Mac? Was she feeling prickly as a pear because her nerves were leaping with awareness of this attractive stranger resting his boot-clad foot on her front step?
“In the odd moment. I had him bring the mix out to my calves. I wish you could have seen the look on his face.”
“I wish I could have seen that, too.”
“Well, maybe you will one time.”
“Thanks. Maybe I will.” But since that would mean tangling her life a little more with Evan Atkins she decided she wouldn’t. She had pinned her hopes on Howard, and he had let her down, and the hurt was terrible.
And Howard wasn’t nearly as…compelling as the young, and gorgeous Mr. Atkins. In fact, Howard suddenly seemed very blah, boring. If a blah and boring man could hurt her so much she really didn’t want to think what an exciting and passionate one could do.
“How did things go your first day on the job?”
“Oh. Fine.” What made her think he was passionate? The smoky look in his eyes? The uncomplicated sensuality of his lips?
“Everybody within a hundred miles dropped by to say howdy?”
She felt some of the stiffness leave her and she laughed. “A thousand, I think.”
“Ma’am, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Quit calling me ma’am!” Why did her tone have to be so querulous with him? “Please.”
“All right.” He waited.
She blushed, as if she had just turned sixteen and not thirty-four. “Kathleen.”
“Well, Kathleen, I’ll bet your dance card is full right up for the next year or so.”
“Pardon?”
“They all ask you out? The bachelors of Hopkins Gulch?”
“Oh. A few of them. I don’t do that. Go out.”
“You don’t? Why not?”
Why not? There was no Howard to be loyal to anymore. What kind of woman was loyal to a man for five years after he’d broken up with her? A dolt, that’s what kind.
“I don’t think it would be good for Mac.”
“How’s that?”
“In my experience—” admittedly limited, though she didn’t say that “—romance seems to be distinctly upsetting.”
“Distinctly upsetting,” he repeated thoughtfully. “I’d have to go along with you on that one. By the way, does Mac really have allergies? To horses?”
“No. Did he tell you that?”
“Deathly, according to him. One whiff of horse and immediate anaphylactic reaction. Said he forgot his kit at home. Like a beesting kit, only a horse whiff kit.”
She was staring at Evan trying to hide her horror. When had her nephew become such an accomplished liar? She didn’t even know Mac knew the word anaphylactic.
“I take it,” Evan said at her silence, “it would be quite safe to have him feed the horses tomorrow?”
“Quite safe,” she murmured.
“If he comes.”
“He’ll come.”
“I’ll be here at five-thirty, then.”
“All right.”
He turned and walked away. She was fascinated by the way he walked, loose-limbed and confident, like a man who owned the earth.
“So, what should I call you?” she called after him.
He stopped and looked back at her. “This is a pretty casual kind of place. Evan would do fine.”
“Thanks, Evan, for looking after his shoes.” Was she actually trying to keep him here? If she didn’t watch herself, she’d be inviting him in for supper in a minute.
He gave her a lopsided grin that chased the shadows from his face and made him look charming and boyish and about a hundred years younger than she.
“Did you really pay two hundred dollars for those shoes?”
“Not quite,” she said, “but close.”
He shook his head incredulously. “Why?”
“They’re magic shoes,” she said with a sigh. “They were supposed to make him happy.”
“If you got that in writing, I’d take them back.” He turned then, went down the walk and got into his truck.
She had to bite her tongue to keep herself from stopping him one more time, asking him if he’d like to join them for spaghetti.
It wouldn’t be a date. Not even close. Just a neighborly kind of thing.
Not wanting to look pathetic, she did not watch while he drove away.
She went into the house just as Mac came out of the shower, toweling his head. The freckles had darkened across his nose, and his cheeks were full of color from the sun.
“I really hate that dust hopper,” he told her. “I worked hard enough today that I shouldn’t have to go back.”
“Well, you do,” Kathleen said, glad that her resolve had been strengthened by