Seven

The next morning, Sadie walked into the kitchen with Adam in her arms. Cole stood at the cookstove, whistling.

Forcing herself to breathe, she strapped Adam into his chair. How could Cole sound so cheery when she was in a state of utter confusion? She’d not slept a wink. Whenever she’d closed her eyes, she’d imagined herself back in his arms. Imagined his lips upon hers.

He turned to greet her, coffeepot in hand. “Morning,” he said with a smile.

She sat at the table without returning his greeting. If only she could forget the feel of his mouth. The touch of his hand. The sound of his heartbeats next to hers.

He filled a cup with coffee and placed it on the table in front of her. “Trees down. Lost more shingles on the roof, but nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“That’s good,” she murmured, handing Adam a spoon. If only matters of the heart could be so easily repaired.

“One thing can be said in the storm’s favor—it kept the fox away.”

She sighed. “He’ll be back.” Nothing could keep that creature away. The fox’s return was the only thing she could count on for sure.

“Maybe you should think about raising cattle instead of chickens.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m serious. You have a large enough spread. Cattle would solve the fox problem and make you a lot of money to boot.”

She glanced at him sideways. “I know nothing about cattle.”

“If you can figure out those crazy verbs in that book of yours, I reckon you can learn to raise cattle.”

When she said nothing, he poured himself a cup of coffee. He regarded her with questioning eyes before sitting opposite her and changing the subject. “I think we ought to talk about last night.”

She cradled the cup in her hands. “Nothin’ to talk about. We took care of the barn door and the animals. No damage was done.”

“I meant what happened when we came back to the house.”

She lowered her cup. “Nothin’ to talk about,” she repeated. “What happened was a mistake.”

Adam dropped his spoon and Cole bent to pick it up. He studied her for a moment before placing the spoon in Adam’s grasping hand. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. You only recently found out about your husband’s death. I have no excuse for my poor behavior. Except to say that these last couple of weeks have meant the world to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve known a real home. A real family.”

She stiffened. Oh, God. There they were again, all the right words. Richard had said he wanted a home and family and she had believed him. That was one mistake she never intended to repeat.

“These last couple of weeks have meant a lot to me, too,” she said, her voice choked. No sense denying it. She’d almost forgotten what it was like not to feel alone or afraid. He’d made her feel safe again. Made her feel special. Made her feel cherished.

She drew in her breath and let out a long sigh. If only…

“But…it’s too soon,” he said. “That’s what you’re thinking, right?” He reached for her hand. “Trust me, Sadie, I’m not trying to move in and take Richard’s place. I’m willing to wait till the time is right.”

She pulled her hand away. His presence was tormenting enough without having to feel his touch. “The time will never be right,” she said, each word tasting like gall. “You’re a Texas Ranger.”

His eyebrows knitted. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. I’ve been a ranger for going on eleven years now. Ever since I was seventeen years old. Been thinking that maybe it’s time I settled down. Being here has made me realize there’s life outside the Rangers. A good life. Crazy as it sounds, I like working on the farm. And I meant it when I said I would love to run cattle here and—”

She shook her head. “Cole…”

“Please, Sadie, hear me out.” An eager light flashed in his eyes. “I’m thinking of retiring from the Rangers. That is, if there’s a chance that you and I could…you know…be together.”

She sat back in her chair with a feeling of despair. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Oh, God, not again! “What about the Carpenter brothers?”

“They’ll get what’s coming to them, with or without me.” His eyes held a hopeful glint. “Sadie, I care for you. I really do. I care for Adam too. Is there a chance you and I can—?”

The question hung between them, the air taut with tension. At least he didn’t say love. Had he said he loved her, she would have been a goner for sure.

“No. No chance,” she said. Bad news was best delivered quickly and with as few words as possible.

He looked like she had hit him. “After last night I thought…”

“You thought wrong,” she snapped. Afraid of losing control, she curled her hands tight by her side. “All that fancy talk about retirin’ is just that—talk. You’ll always be a Texas Ranger. You won’t be able to help yourself. Rangers don’t make very good husbands. Don’t make good fathers either.”

“I told you I planned on quitting and I meant it.”

She heaved a sigh. “Richard told me the same thing, and he lasted here at the farm three months. Three lousy months!”

“I’m not Richard.”

“No, but you’re one of them. Just like Richard and my pa. Pa promised to quit too. But there was always another outlaw to chase. Another call to adventure.” As a child she couldn’t compete with the lure of the Rangers. But neither had she been able to compete as a grown woman.

Cole’s burning eyes held hers. “I’ll always be there for you,” he said, “and that’s a promise.”

She scoffed. “Those are mighty pretty words. They were pretty when Papa said them. They were pretty when Richard said them too. But you know what? They don’t mean beans.”

For several moments the only sound was Adam banging on the table with his spoon.

“Sadie,” he said at last, his voice thick with emotion. “How can I prove that I mean what I say? What will it take?” His tender gaze met hers. “How can I make you believe that I will never leave you?”

“You can’t,” she whispered. It nearly broke her heart to say it, but it was better to lose him before the first stirrings of love turned into something deeper. As hard as it was now, it would be so much harder later. “You can’t.”

* * *

After two days, the rain had stopped and Sadie threw open her bedroom window sash to let in some fresh air just as Adam woke from his nap. Hearing voices, she peered outside to the yard below. Cole was deep in conversation with a stranger, and her stomach knotted.

Things between them had been strained since the night they’d kissed. Every word, every look, every move had to be carefully planned in advance so as not to open up the floodgates of emotion that now simmered between them.

He’d told her he no longer planned on staying till Christmas. She didn’t want to see him go. Not yet. But if she was right about the stranger’s identity, things were now out of both their hands.

After changing Adam, she lifted him in her arms and joined the two men outside. Cole turned as she approached. “Sadie, I’d like you to meet Major Comstock. Major, this is Mrs. Carnes and her son, Adam.”

The major pulled off his hat and tucked it beneath his arm. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. Sorry about your husband. He was a fine ranger.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“The captain here was telling me that you took good care of him while he was laid up. We’re mighty grateful to you.”

“He was a good patient,” she said.

The corners of Cole’s mouth quirked upward before he turned dead serious. “The major was just telling me that they have a good idea where the men responsible for your husband’s death are holed up.”

“That’s right,” the major concurred. “That’s why I’m here. I wanted to make sure the captain was fully recovered before he joined us. We’ll spend the night at the hotel and take the train back to Austin first thing in the morning.”

The news hit her like a rock. She met Cole’s gaze, but the eyes looking back were dark and unfathomable.

“S-so soon?” she stammered. She’d hoped Cole would change his mind and at least stay until after Christmas.

“If we wait, we might lose ’em,” the major said, “and I don’t aim on takin’ the chance.” He pulled his watch out of his vest pocket and flipped it open with his thumb. “We better get a move on.”

Cole nodded. “I’ll saddle up.”

Major Comstock glanced around. “Where can I find water for my horse?” Cole pointed to the horse trough next to the windmill. “Much obliged,” the major said and led his gelding away.

Cole waited until he was out of earshot. “I’ll stay, Sadie. That is…if you want me to. You only have to say the word. I give you my solemn promise I won’t leave. I’ll always be here for you and Adam.”

Sadie tried to breathe but it felt as if someone had squeezed her lungs in a vise. She wanted him to stay more than anything in the world, but life on a farm paled in comparison to what the Rangers could offer him.

“You’ll leave,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “You won’t be able to help yourself.” She turned and walked away. Letting him go was the hardest thing she’d ever done. It was also the most necessary—for both their sakes.

* * *

The hours following Cole’s departure crept by so slowly, Sadie kept thinking her clock had stopped. She wandered aimlessly from room to room, pausing only to run her hand over his chair, his bed—anywhere he might have touched. The house felt empty, lifeless, like a tomb. Neither the Christmas tree nor the blazing fire could chase away the gloom.

Adam seemed to sense her dark mood. He had been fussy and clingy since that afternoon. He wasn’t interested in his toys or even his favorite game of peekaboo. He even refused to nurse, but the heaviness in her breasts hardly compared to the heaviness in her heart.

“What’s the matter, little fella?” she asked, rocking him in her arms. “You miss him too, eh?”

Never had she felt so lonely. Not even after Richard had left. She’d only known Cole a short while, but somehow a bond had been forged between them unlike any she’d ever known. At times it seemed as if he knew what she was thinking even before she knew herself.

Aware, suddenly, that Adam had fallen asleep, she carried him to the bedroom. After placing him in his cradle, she fell facedown on her bed, sobbing.