Mary Sullivan

Rodeo Sheriff


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she said, handing him a plate of reheated meat loaf and mashed potatoes. He could smell the garlic in them. The Summertime Diner’s food was the best.

      “Eat,” Honey ordered.

      He sat down in the remaining empty chair not at all certain he could swallow a bite. But he tried.

      Minutes later, he’d finished the entire plate.

      “Better?” Vy asked.

      He nodded. A second later, Honey appeared at his side with a bowl of rice pudding for him, too, her floral essence swirling around her.

      Madeline grasped a hank of Honey’s hair and held on, forcing Honey to pick her up, sit down in her chair and put the child on her lap.

      Madeline pulled Honey’s hair around her head and under her chin like a nun’s wimple, leaving only a narrow portion of her face showing.

      Cole put down his spoon and squeezed the bridge of his nose. How was he supposed to make life normal for children who had lost so much?

      Honey picked up a bit of Maddy’s rice pudding in a spoon and fed it to her. Maddy let her.

      Cole had been having trouble getting enough food into the child. Thank God for Honey.

      The apartment door opened and Will, Vy’s cook, stepped in carrying a tray.

      Cole glanced at Vy.

      She grinned. “I asked him to make milk shakes and bring them over.”

      Cole frowned. “On a Sunday? You shouldn’t have. It’s his day off.”

      “I don’t mind,” Will said. “Nothing much else to do.”

      That surprised Cole. Will was a big handsome guy with a wicked set of dimples that set the women of Rodeo sighing. No exaggeration. Cole had witnessed the weird phenomenon of usually sensible women falling all over Will when he indulged them with one of his rare smiles.

      The women of town pursued. Will resisted. Cole had no idea why.

      With a magician’s flourish, Will snatched the towel from the tray to reveal a half dozen small milk shakes in retro diner glasses.

      “Who wants one?”

      All three tiny heads nodded, as did Chelsea.

      “Who are these two little ones I haven’t met?”

      “I’m Evan.”

      Will shook his hand.

      Madeline didn’t say a word. “That’s my sister, Madeline,” Evan clarified.

      Will leaned close. Madeline stared at the colorful drinks. “I have vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. What is your choice?”

      Will made no mention of the odd way Maddy sat surrounded by Honey’s hair. Good man.

      Madeline pointed to a pink milk shake. Will put it on the place mat in front of her, then asked Evan, Tori and Chelsea which flavors they preferred.

      The front doorbell rang.

      “It’s like Grand Central Station in here,” Cole muttered before remembering he was interviewing today.

      God, he was tired.

      Honey headed downstairs. The room had filled up with adults and children, but the second Honey left, so did all of the room’s warmth.

      Cole’s mantra—if Honey is there, I am aware—ran through him.

      She returned with Tanya Mayhall.

      Tanya, a solidly built, affectionate middle-aged woman with not one sharp edge about her, searched the room for Cole with a worried frown.

      He stood and approached.

      As naturally as the sun rose each day, she took him into her arms.

      He went willingly.

      If ever a woman was designed to be a mother, it was Tanya. Madeline and Evan might need mothering right now, but, strangely, so did Cole.

      Tanya had a strong grip. He returned it. She enveloped him with not only the warmth of her affection and empathy but also a complex cloud of lavender and vanilla.

      Cole sighed.

      “I’m sorry, my dear,” Tanya whispered. Her response did nothing to change what had happened but was heartfelt and welcome.

      Over her shoulder, Cole again noted a puzzling frown from Honey.

       Chapter Three

      Honey watched another woman embrace Cole.

      Why should it bother her? That flash of tenderness toward him earlier had unnerved her with its intensity. She didn’t harbor hopes of a relationship with Cole. So why feel jealous because he was taking hugs from other women? For a woman who knew her own mind, this confusion didn’t sit well with Honey.

      Tanya released Cole but held his face between her hands and spoke quietly. The tension in Cole’s shoulders eased.

      Tanya brushed a hand across the creases on his brow, and Honey could almost see Cole’s burden lighten.

      What was Tanya saying? What words of comfort did she have for Cole that Honey hadn’t managed to come up with?

      She’d never felt this lack in herself before.

      Why did she feel awkward with Cole, not in everyday life, but now that there was something out of the ordinary happening to him? Now that she was called on to see him differently?

      To maybe not take his presence for granted?

      Tanya turned to the rest of the group and said hello. A still-handsome woman in her late fifties, she’d raised four great children.

      She could certainly handle these two little ones.

      When Tanya stepped close to the table and talked to the children, Madeline wouldn’t let Tanya touch her.

      Tanya returned to the far end of the room with Cole.

      Honey sent the children back into their armchair fort. Chelsea, no longer a child but not yet an adult, either, was allowed into their tiny circle.

      Honey poured a cup of tea and brought it to Tanya.

      Did Cole even know the right questions to ask a nanny?

      He glanced at her, and, in that brief meeting of eyes, she saw doubt.

      He gestured with his head for Honey to join them.

      Honey knew he was capable. He interviewed criminals all the time. But this was different. Maybe he felt overwhelmed.

      * * *

      WHEN HONEY HANDED the cup of tea to Tanya and her arm brushed Cole’s shoulder, he struggled not to pull away from her touch, from all of the good feelings she engendered in him. Feelings that scorched where his skin had thinned with grief and need.

      He wanted Honey.

      He had always wanted her.

      He had nowhere to put these feelings, no one he could trust with them.

      Honey would never trample his heart, but his judgment had been poor in the past and could be poor still, and it was all tangled up with the awful way he’d been raised.

      Normally he could deal with how she affected him and could hide his feelings, but not now when his emotions were a teardrop away.

      Not now when he wanted to bury himself in Honey’s grace and good humor and never let go.

      Silently, he asked her to join him in the interview. Maybe she would catch something he missed. Maybe she knew something children needed that he hadn’t thought of.

      Tanya watched