for thunderstorms,” he explained, glancing with a sympathetic gaze at the boy.
“Oh…I see.” Carey peeked over Luke’s broad shoulder at Tyler’s small, wary expression. “Well, here I am. Your official rescue squad.” She offered a wide smile in the boy’s direction. “When I was a kid I didn’t like storms, either. But my mother used to tell me it was only angels bowling.”
Tyler’s uneasy expression slowly changed to a smile. “That’s silly,” he said.
“Yeah, isn’t it?” Carey agreed with a little laugh.
Then she met Luke’s gaze and felt mesmerized as a slow, reluctant smile transformed his hard, impassive features. Not the sly, come-on smile Carey normally drew from members of the opposite sex. This was different. Completely different.
Deep dimples creased his tanned cheeks; even, white teeth flashed against tanned skin, a sudden light in his dark eyes glowed as he met her gaze. Carey smiled back, feeling a curious, punched-in-the-gut sensation again. As if, during that instant his gaze had met and held hers, somehow he’d tapped a direct line to her heart.
Gratitude, perhaps, for the comfort she offered his small scared companion. Or simply the glance two adults exchange when caring for a child.
But just as quickly his expression returned to the shuttered mask that had first greeted her. She had the oddest feeling he regretted allowing himself even that single, simple instant of intimacy.
He turned abruptly to the boy. “Let me help you out on this side, Ty. There’s a big puddle on yours. And don’t forget your hat.”
“I’ll wait in the truck for you,” Carey said curtly. She turned and tramped off to her truck, putting some much-needed distance between herself and her newfound passengers.
Her reaction to this guy had been…ridiculous. It had to be the stress of this everything-gone-wrong day—when so much depended on things going right for her, just this once.
Luke and Tyler soon appeared at the passenger side of the truck, and Luke opened the door and helped the boy climb in.
“Just wait here with the lady a minute,” Luke instructed him. “I need to go back to the truck. I’ll just be a minute,” he told Carey.
Once Carey and Tyler were alone, he glanced up at her warily. “My name is Tyler,” he offered politely, reminding her that she hadn’t introduced herself by name yet.
“I’m Carey,” she returned. “Carey Winslow.” Then, not knowing what else to say as he continued to stare up at her so solemnly, she added, “How old are you?”
“I’m four. Almost going to be five.”
Carey, who wasn’t around small children much, didn’t know how to keep the conversation going. Thunder rolled loudly nearby, and she saw the child grow tense again.
“Do you like horses?” she asked, hoping to distract him.
“I guess,” he said hesitantly, his answer surprising her. What four-year-old boy didn’t like horses?
“I’ve only seen a few close up. I never rode one,” he explained. The he looked back up at her, his expression very serious. “Luke has. He’s been on a lot of horses.”
Carey, who knew a full-blooded cowboy when she saw one, laughed lightly. “I bet he has. Maybe he’ll teach you to ride them someday, too. You’d like it. It’s fun.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Tyler replied. He continued to stare at her and did not smile back.
Carey looked for Luke and saw him moving bags from the truck bed into the cab. She glanced at her watch, wishing she could deliver these two hapless travelers back to the house and get on the road again.
“Carey, can I ask you something?” Tyler’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“What’s that?”
“Are you…are you like a fairy princess or something? Like in a book?” His question would have made her burst out in laughter, if not for the solemn expression of his small round face and dark-brown eyes. Eyes a lot like Luke’s—though it was still unclear what the relationship was between the man and boy.
She shook her head, pursing her lips to keep from smiling too broadly. “No, not at all. Just a regular person… Whatever gave you that idea?”
He shrugged, a small movement under his thin, baseball-style jacket. “I just thought maybe you were. You look like the pictures of one in a book I used to have. Like that crown thing in your hair and your long dress and all,” he explained, seeming a bit embarrassed.
“Oh—” She glanced down at her long skirt, then remembered the garland of soggy flowers in her hair. “Oh, sure. I see…I’m just dressed…special today,” she tried to explain. “For a special occasion.”
He seemed satisfied with that explanation, his expression lighting up in anticipation. “Like a party you mean?”
“Hmmm. Sort of,” she hedged, thinking of the three-tiered cake and the bowl of punch.
The passenger side door swung open and a gust of rain blew into the cozy truck cab. Just outside the truck, Luke removed his Stetson, shook the water off quickly, then ducked inside and slammed the door. Tyler quickly scooted close to Carey to make room for him.
“Well, put it in gear and let’s see what we’ve got,” Luke said. “If we’re stuck, I’ll get out and push.”
He wiped his damp hair back off his brow with a quick, sweeping motion of his hand. She suddenly noticed he was in need of a shave, though the observation did nothing to detract from his dark good looks. Carey forced herself to look away.
“I think we’ll be okay,” Carey replied, as she slipped the transmission in low gear. The truck wheels spun for a long, agonizing moment, then suddenly gripped the mud as the vehicle lurched out onto the road.
Carey quietly sighed with relief and thought she heard the same from Luke’s end of the cab. “You shouldn’t have parked so far onto the shoulder like that. We might have been stuck in the mud,” he observed.
“Well, we weren’t, so that’s mud under the bridge in my book.” Her reply was delivered in a cheerful, even tone, though she actually felt put out by the need to explain herself to a stranger. For goodness’ sake, he was lucky she’d come along when she had and offered him a ride.
“My name is Carey, by the way,” she added. “Carey Winslow.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him glance her way over Tyler’s head. Then he looked back out at the road.
“Luke Redstone,” he replied. “And this is Tyler…my nephew.”
“Yes, I know. We’ve been getting acquainted.” Carey glanced down warmly at the boy.
Luke looked at him, too. A questioning look, as if he was worried about what the boy had said in his absence. “We were just talking about horses,” Tyler explained in a quiet voice to his uncle.
Luke seemed satisfied with that reply, his features fixed in the serious, thoughtful expression that was quickly becoming familiar to her.
“And I asked her about, you know, what I thought,” Tyler added in an even quieter voice. “And you were right. What you said. She’s not…one. She’s just dressed up that way for a party.”
Taking her eyes off the treacherous road for a moment, Carey noticed that this last comment caused a slight grin to soften Luke’s expression.
“Well, that makes some sense, I suppose,” he replied to Tyler. Then to Carey he said, “I did notice that you weren’t quite dressed for the weather.”
He turned, his gaze moving slowly down her body with an assessing, slightly amused light dancing in his dark eyes.
She knew she looked