stop, the back door opened. While the driver and front passenger were still dealing with their seatbelts, two blonde blurs of energy spilled out. Followed by a tall man with ink-black hair.
Cold water splashed over her fingers, making her realize she was squeezing the bottle in her hand. “Gram!” She couldn’t keep the note of shrill accusation from her voice. “That is Cole Trent.”
Her grandmother ducked her gaze. “Oh. Did I, um, forget to mention he was invited?”
A single glance across the shaded front yard confirmed the suspicion that had been growing inside Cole as his father drove. Joan Denby’s granddaughter was indeed the beautiful blonde he’d met yesterday. Two single moms with sons moving to Cupid’s Bow at the same time wasn’t impossible, but it would be an unlikely coincidence. When the possibility had first occurred to him that the woman they were welcoming to town was the same one he’d met at the gas station, he’d discounted it because his mother had made it sound as if the newcomer’s son was closer to the twins’ age.
Then again, his mom had proven that her ethics were flexible when it came to introducing him to single women.
He had to admit, on some level, he was excited to see the blonde again. Judging from her tense body language as she talked to her grandmother, the feeling was not mutual.
“Hey, it’s that lady!” Mandy announced as the adults unloaded folding chairs and covered dishes from the car.
Gayle Trent glanced at her granddaughter. “The older one, or the younger one?”
Mandy frowned, momentarily perplexed that someone over thirty might qualify as young. “The one with the ponytail. We met her yesterday. Her son’s a big kid. He and Alyssa took a—”
“I didn’t take it!” Alyssa interrupted, her face splotched with red.
“Why don’t we leave what happened in the past?” Cole said, steering his girls away from his mother’s blatant curiosity. He had not yet shared the Great Candy Bar Heist with her. “Come on, let’s go meet our hostess.”
He tried to recall whether his mom had mentioned Joan’s granddaughter by name but drew a blank.
“Sheriff Trent!” Joan Denby waved him over with a smile. “So nice to see you—and your girls. They’re getting so big. This is my granddaughter, Kate Sullivan. I hear the two of you have met?”
“Briefly, but I didn’t catch a name.” He set down the chairs he carried and extended his hand. “Nice to officially meet you, Kate.”
Her gold-green eyes narrowed and, for a second, he didn’t think she would shake his hand. She did, but the contact was as fleeting as social protocol allowed.
“Sheriff,” she said stiffly.
He smiled. “Please, call me Cole. I’m off duty at the moment.”
His parents had caught up to them and Mr. and Mrs. Ross, who owned The Twisted R ranch at the end of the road, were climbing down from their truck and calling their own hellos. Cole stepped out of the way, giving Joan a chance to proudly introduce her granddaughter. As Kate greeted everyone, her gaze kept darting nervously back to him. The lingering interest would be flattering if not for her apprehensive expression.
He was used to being well-regarded in the community and frankly unsure how to respond to her thinned lips and rigid posture. Did she somehow blame him for her son’s actions yesterday? After all, if his daughter hadn’t asked for the candy bar in the first place, Luke might never have swiped it. She certainly hadn’t made excuses for her son, though. She’d responded to the situation with a directness Cole admired, marching her son back inside to apologize to Rick Jacobs and offer restitution.
“Mom!” The front door banged open, releasing an exuberant German shepherd into the yard. Luke Sullivan emerged on the wraparound porch. “There’s some lady on the phone for you.”
At the sight of Luke, Alyssa gasped. Apparently, it hadn’t yet clicked with her that if Kate was present, her son would be, too. “I do not like him,” Alyssa said to no one in particular before stomping off to sit beneath a pear tree.
Mandy watched her sister’s retreat with wide eyes, then tugged Cole’s hand. “Now what?”
Good question.
* * *
“OFCOURSE I UNDERSTAND,” Kate said into the phone, trying to concentrate on Crystal’s words instead of staring at the sheriff through the front window. “We’ll get together for lunch or something as soon as everyone’s feeling better.”
Her childhood friend had called with the news that two of her kids had the stomach flu. When the first one had thrown up, Crystal had hoped it was an isolated incident and had planned to leave her husband at home with the kid. But now that there were fevers involved, Crystal worried that even the members of the household not showing symptoms might be contagious.
“I can’t wait to see you,” Crystal said, her tone apologetic. “I hate that I won’t make the barbecue.”
“Me, too.” Catching up with her old friend would have been a nice distraction from Sheriff Trent. Call me Cole. His rich voice was more tempting than Gram’s desserts. “Hey, Crys, do you know much about the sheriff? Gram invited him and his parents.”
“Then she has good taste,” Crystal said approvingly. “He’s a cutie.”
Cute did not begin to describe him. The casual cotton T-shirt he wore delineated his muscular arms and chest far more than the crisp polo shirt she’d last seen on him. And she felt foolish for noticing that in the full sunlight, his thick hair wasn’t simply black. Half a dozen subtler hues threaded through it.
She was not interested in the sheriff’s hair. Or his muscles. Mostly, she just wanted to make sure Luke behaved today and didn’t further damage his reputation with the sheriff—or any of the other guests, for that matter.
“One of my boys played soccer in the spring with Mandy Trent,” Crystal said. “The sheriff’s got his hands full, but he seems like a good dad. And he’s considered quite the catch among the women in town. Or would be, if anyone could catch him.”
“So he’s not seeing anyone?” Kate wished she could take back the impulsive question. The sheriff’s dating life was none of her concern.
“I don’t think he’s gone on more than three dates with the same woman since his divorce, which was years ago. Popular opinion is that Becca Johnston will wear him down eventually—unless he gets a restraining order. Becca’s relentless, never takes no for an answer. Every time she calls, I get sandbagged into chairing some PTA committee or local food drive. If you want to volunteer for something like the Watermelon Festival in order to meet people, you should talk to her. If not, avoid her like the plague. And speaking of plague, I’d better go check my sick kids.”
As Kate was replacing the cordless phone on its charger, the front door opened.
“Katie?” Gram’s tone was rueful. No doubt she felt guilty for the way she’d ambushed Kate with Cole’s presence. “Are you rejoining us?”
Like I have a choice? “You raised me better than to hide in the house just because there’s someone I’d rather avoid. I was talking to Crystal. She had to cancel because they’re dealing with a stomach bug.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. She was excited about seeing you again.”
Kate shrugged, trying not to look as disappointed as she felt. “Sick kids come with the parenting territory. I’ll see her soon.”
“You know, I thought there was a chance Cole might have to cancel,” Gram said. “As sheriff, he’s got a lot of responsibilities. Just keeping the Breelan brothers under control is practically a full-time job. As fretful as you were about