in a burst of honesty.
“Of me?”
Kendra swallowed hard, shook her head from side to side. He’d been right before—she was afraid of herself, not him—but she wasn’t going to admit that out loud.
“It’s probably inevitable,” Hutch said, sounding gleefully resigned. “Our making love, I mean.”
“Think what you like,” Kendra bluffed, her tone deliberately tart. “But I’ve been down that road before, Hutch, and I’m not going back. I’m not a gullible young girl anymore. I’m a responsible woman with a daughter.”
“And that means you can’t have a sex life?”
“I will not discuss this with you,” she bit out, turning Coco around and heading back toward the house and the barn and Madison. Back toward sanity and good sense.
Of course Hutch had no difficulty catching up. He looked cocky, riding beside her, all cowboy, all man.
She was in big trouble here.
Big, big trouble.
* * *
SHE AND MADISON had to stay for supper—Opal wouldn’t hear of anything else, and besides, Kendra knew that leaving in a huff would reveal too much.
So she stayed.
She left Hutch to put the horses away by himself, except for his devoted shadow, Leviticus, then went into the house and washed her hands at the kitchen sink while Madison, swaddled in an oversize apron and elbow-deep in floury dough, regaled her with her new knowledge of cooking.
“She’s ready for her own show on the Food Channel,” Opal put in proudly, standing next to Madison at the center island and supervising every move.
“I don’t doubt that for a moment,” Kendra agreed, hoping her coloring had returned to normal by now.
“I’m making biscuits,” Madison said.
“Impressive,” Kendra replied. “Will you teach me how to make them, too?”
Madison giggled at that. “Silly Mommy,” she said. “You just need to look in a cookbook and you’ll know how.”
Kendra kissed her daughter’s flour-smudged cheek. “You’ve got me there,” she said, with a little sigh.
“Coffee’s fresh,” Opal said with a nod in the direction of the machine. “Mugs are in the cupboard above it.”
“Thanks.” Kendra needed something to do with her hands, so she got out a cup, poured herself some coffee and took a slow sip, hoping it wouldn’t keep her awake half the night, thinking about the most recent go-round with Hutch. She was jangly enough as it was.
“How was the ride?” Opal asked, and her attempt to put the question casually was a total flop.
“Fine,” Kendra replied noncommittally.
“Where’s Mr. Hutch?” Madison wanted to know.
So, Kendra thought. He’d graduated from cowboy man to Mr. Hutch. What was next—Daddy?
“He’s looking after the horses,” Kendra answered, leaning against the counter and taking another sip of coffee. Oddly the caffeine seemed to be settling her down rather than riling her already frayed nerves, and she was grateful for this small, counterintuitive blessing.
“When can we get my boots?” Madison chimed in.
Kendra laughed. “Does that mean you want to go riding again?” she hedged.
Madison nodded eagerly, still working away at the dough she’d been kneading in the big crockery bowl in front of her. “I want to ride far,” she said. “Not just around and around in the yard, like a little kid.”
“You are a little kid,” Kendra teased.
“I reckon that biscuit dough is about ready to be rolled out and cut,” Opal put in. Without missing a beat, she gently removed Madison’s hands from the bowl, wiped them clean with a damp dish towel and lifted the child down off the chair she’d been standing on.
“I can help,” Madison offered.
“Sure you can,” Opal agreed.
The woman was the soul of patience. Kendra smiled at her, mouthing the words “Thank you.”
“But first I need to say good-night to Ruffles,” Madison said.
“After supper,” Kendra answered.
Hutch came in then, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he stepped over the threshold in stocking feet, having left his dirty boots outside on the step. His hair was rumpled, and there were bits of hay on his clothes. Kendra was struck by how impossibly good he looked, even coming straight from the barn.
He nodded a greeting to Opal and Kendra in turn, then spared a wink for Madison as he used an elbow to turn on the hot water in the sink. He lathered his hands and forearms with a bar of pungently scented orange soap, rinsed and lathered up again.
To look at him, nobody would have guessed that less than an hour before he’d kissed Kendra as she’d never been kissed before—even by him—and thrown her entire being into sweet turmoil in the space of a few heartbeats. He’d plundered her