her out here. He was surprised by how nice it felt to be able to talk with a woman without feeling as though she expected something from him, like a ring on her finger. That Devon seemed to understand how he missed rodeo and appreciated his work made him extra glad he’d gone on instinct helping her with her mom earlier.
“You sound happy.”
He looked up at his mom striding down the middle of the barn. “Huh?”
“You were whistling.”
He was?
He placed his palm against the side of the metal horse. “Because I’m close to finishing this guy.”
“You sure it has nothing to do with our visitor?”
“Devon?”
She lifted a brow. “You see any other visitors out here tonight?”
“Saw a couple of deer up the hill a few minutes ago.”
She huffed out a sigh.
“Don’t sound so put out. We were helping your friend out of a bad situation, nothing more.”
“But she’s a lovely, sweet girl.”
“I’m sure she is, but I’ve told you I’m done.”
“You’re only thirty-three. That’s awfully young to be giving up, isn’t it?”
“Not from my perspective. You keep getting burned, you stop touching the stove.”
“Cole—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Mom, just because you found happiness in marriage doesn’t mean everyone will. And I’m happy,” he said, because he knew that was her chief worry despite her comments about wanting grandchildren. “I’m back home ranching. I’ve found something else I like to do. I get to eat my mom’s home cooking every day. What’s not to like?”
He’d swear he saw his mom deflate a bit, like a balloon slowly losing air. He felt bad about it, but he had to stand firm or she wouldn’t quit her futile quest to find his one true love.
“Just keep an open mind, okay?”
He didn’t respond, knowing it would be a lie if he agreed.
“How about you answer a question for me?” he said. “What’s really up with you and Angela Newberry?”
“I don’t like snobs.”
“I know. But there’s more to it.”
“You’re Sherlock Holmes all of a sudden?”
“Maybe.”
His mom chuckled at that.
He let it go because he knew continuing to question his mom would be about as productive as digging a well with a measuring cup.
When his mom finally went back to the house after watching him work for a few minutes, her efforts to fix him up marched around inside his head again. Yes, Devon was nice. And she was pretty. But he’d proved he and marriage just weren’t cut out for each other. And dating someone in Blue Falls if you didn’t hope it led to a lifetime commitment just didn’t seem wise. If it ended badly—and his track record indicated it would—he couldn’t avoid seeing another Blue Falls resident the rest of his life.
So pursuing Devon? A big no-no. No matter how nice she was. Or how pretty.
* * *
DESPITE HOW TIRED she’d been when she arrived home the night before, Devon didn’t sleep particularly well. She kept thinking about her mother’s complete lack of respect for her as a person one minute and the warm, masculine feel of Cole’s arm around her shoulders the next. No matter how many times she told herself that they could only be friends, and that she should count herself lucky with that much, she couldn’t help the zing that just thinking about him caused.
Thankfully, Mandy was opening the store this morning, which gave Devon time to finish packaging a fresh supply of soap and stop by the Mehlerhaus Bakery for a cheese Danish and the biggest cup of coffee they had.
“Someone appears to need a lot of caffeine this morning,” Josephina Mehler said as she handed over the coffee.
“It’s one of those mornings where I feel like I need to swim through an ocean of coffee to get going.”
Josephina laughed. “I know that feeling.”
Work at a bakery started early. Josephina and her sister-in-law, Keri Teague, who owned the bakery, were probably the first people into downtown each morning.
She waved a goodbye and headed for the door, pausing when Talia Monroe stepped inside with her stepdaughter, Mia.
“Good morning,” Devon said. “How are you all?”
Talia smiled and placed her hand lovingly on Mia’s head. “Great, actually. We’re here for celebratory sweets. Miss Mia just had her latest checkup and got another clean bill of health.”
“Cancer-free!” Mia said with great exuberance as she threw her arms out wide.
“That’s awesome.” Devon leaned down to meet Mia’s gaze. “That is a great reason for a treat.”
An idea popped into her head, something she could do during her anniversary celebration.
“Mia, I have an idea for something to do at my store, and I was wondering if you’d give me your opinion.”
“Sure.” Mia crossed her arms, and her expression changed from gleeful, cancer-free kid to serious consideration, like she was a mini adult.
“Do you think kids like you would be interested in learning how to knit? We could do fun things that you could give as Christmas gifts.” She was making it up on the fly, but the more she said, the more she liked the idea.
“Sounds cool.” She looked up at Talia. “Could I do that?”
“I don’t see why not.” Talia met Devon’s gaze as Devon stood to her full height again. “Great idea.”
After insisting on buying Mia’s and Talia’s pastries, Devon headed to the shop feeling really good. Nothing like a jolt of coffee and learning that a sweet little girl was healthy after her struggle with the big, dreaded C word to put pep in your step. She was darn near skipping by the time she stepped into the shop.
“Good morning, Mandy,” she said in greeting to her best friend since the second grade.
Devon barely had time to detect the tense look of warning on Mandy’s face before she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Devon knew before turning that it was her mother. It was something about how the air changed near her, as if it crackled before a lightning strike.
“We need to talk about your rude behavior,” her mom said without any preamble.
“Good morning to you, too, Mom.” Devon rounded the front counter and stuffed her purse underneath it in the safe alongside Mandy’s.
“Don’t be smart with me.”
“If you’re here about your sneak attack on me yesterday, you can save your breath.”
“Attack? That’s what you call my having your best interests in mind when I introduce you to a handsome, successful young man?” Angela shifted her attention to Mandy. “Dear, don’t you have somewhere else you can be?”
“I work here, remember?”
Devon bit her lip, trying not to laugh. In the past, her mother had first scared Mandy, then hurt her feelings. The fact that Mandy hadn’t had much money growing up, had been the daughter of a single mother who had to work three jobs to make ends meet, had made her an inappropriate friend for Devon, according to her mother.
“Your father and I have an image to uphold. It’s what your father’s customers expect,” she’d