touched his hand, surprising him. He glanced up with wide blue eyes. Something odd touched their depths. Maybe hope? Or...what? Honey couldn’t identify what she saw, but again tension arced under her fingers.
She dropped her hand. “Do you need me to make the calls?”
A split second of temptation lit the darkness in his eyes, replaced at once by determination.
“My job. Just please take care of them this afternoon. Make them happy.”
“Cole, no one can do that right now.”
“You can, Honey. If anyone can, it’s you.”
Tightening her hold on Madeline, she huffed out a frustrated sigh. What a burden he was placing on her. She might be a favorite with the children of Rodeo, Montana, but she wasn’t a miracle worker.
His intensity, while understandable given the situation, unnerved her. He wasn’t thinking rationally.
“Oh, Cole.” Her voice eased out of her on a breath of soft air. “It’s too early. There’s nothing that will make them happy. All I can do is make them comfortable.”
“Do that? Please?” The rawness in his voice held her still.
How could she resist a plea so sweetly asked?
“Okay. You make the calls and get those women in here to interview. I’ll take care of the children.”
She squeezed his hand, meaning to move on quickly, but he turned his palm up and grasped her like he never meant to let go. His grip became painful.
He closed his eyes. Misery etched deeper those brackets of character on his face.
When he looked at her again, moisture shimmered on his pale lashes.
Tenderness welled inside Honey.
She did affection really well, especially with children and friends, but affection toward men? Not so much. She had her reasons, all balled up in an amalgam of passionate love and too much loss...as well as being a female bar owner.
She straightened and put distance between herself and that dangerous tenderness.
He dropped her hand.
All business, she offered, “Would you like coffee? Food?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to put you out.”
Used to dealing with recalcitrant drunks, she slammed her fist onto her unoccupied hip. “When did you last eat?”
He turned inward but couldn’t seem to come up with an answer. “I don’t remember.”
“And the children?”
“Breakfast this morning.”
“It’s two o’clock. I’ll put on the coffeepot and get food in here.” She pointed a finger at his face. “When the children sit down to eat, so will you.”
She snagged the phone and walked to her bedroom at the back of the apartment, hitching Madeline a little higher on her hip.
Rachel answered on the second ring. “Hi, Honey. What’s up?”
“Are you and the children available this afternoon?”
“Sure. Travis is out checking on the herd. What do you need?”
“Come over.”
“Now? Beth is napping.”
Aware of Madeline listening in, Honey said, “Can you come anyway? Right away? There are a couple of children here who need someone to play with. They need Tori. I’ll explain when you arrive.”
Despite how little Honey was actually telling her, Rachel responded with an immediate, “Okay, we’ll be right over. I’ll have to wake Beth, so she might be grumpy.”
Honey considered baby Beth’s discomfort a small price to pay for providing Evan and Madeline with small-fry company.
“See you soon.”
Next, Honey called Violet Summer, who owned the Summertime Diner.
After a few rings, Vy answered. “Hey, Honey. To what do I owe the annoyance of this call interrupting a perfectly fine Sunday afternoon with my man?”
Honey laughed. God, she loved Vy’s irreverent sense of humor. On the other hand, Vy might be serious considering how recently her relationship with newcomer Sam Carmichael had begun.
Honey explained that she had children and a couple of adults who needed to be fed, and that it was an emergency. She could almost feel Vy coming alert like a bird dog sensing prey.
“I’ll head over to the diner and see what Will has left over from yesterday. It might not be much. We were busy. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
Once Vy arrived with food, Honey would assess what was needed and call in her cook, Chet, to make up burgers and fries if necessary. Honey didn’t have enough food in the apartment for everyone. She didn’t think Madeline would let go of her long enough for Honey to buy food, let alone cook it. A good guy who liked children, Chet wouldn’t mind cooking for them.
Honey had forgotten to ask Cole whether she could share his story, but it would be naive of him to think he could hold on to this forever. The second he’d brought the children home with him to Rodeo, they’d become part of the community.
Hold up, Honey. You don’t even know if this is permanent. But Cole mentioned guardianship and a will, so probably?
She would just have to get the full story at some point.
Back in the living room, she replaced the phone in its cradle. Cole sat staring at his cell, but at least there’d been some progress. He’d made a list of the women with their contact information.
Honey picked up the sheet of paper. “You know their phone numbers?”
Cole’s eyebrows shot up. “I contacted the office. The deputy on duty accessed the town’s database.”
“Oh. Of course.” She pointed to Tanya’s name and said, “Call her first. Tell her to be here in an hour if she can.”
“Not right away?”
“No. You’re going to eat first.”
She tried to put Madeline down on the sofa again, but the little girl still clung.
Honey hitched her a bit higher. Good thing she was strong from running her bar and hauling around cases of liquor and beer.
One-handed, she put on a pot of coffee to brew and got out mugs, cream and sugar.
She poured a cup of coffee for Cole and brought it to him.
“You look numb,” she said.
Cole stared at her.
Frowning, she returned to the kitchen to pour a mug for herself.
The front doorbell tinkled. Company. Honey ran down the stairs to let in Rachel, Beth and Tori.
Thank God. The cavalry had arrived.
Four-year-old Tori threw herself against Honey’s legs. “Mommy said you gots kids here. Who’s that girl you’re holding? Can I meet her?”
“You sure can.” This, Tori’s boundless excitement, was exactly what these two waifs needed, but Madeline burrowed into Honey’s hair. “You can meet her upstairs.”
In the living room, Tori ran to the sofa and stared at Evan. “I’m Tori. I live in Rodeo. Who are you?”
“I’m Evan. That’s my sister, Madeline.”
“I like your names.” She pointed to the sofa. “Can I sit here?”
From behind the curtain of Honey’s hair, Madeline studied Tori, not emitting a sound.
Tori wasn’t