hat, a nicer one than he usually wore. “I like your place.”
“Buchanon built to my specs. Jayla lives in the other side.”
“I figured you for a girl who’d live with her parents until she married.”
His comment about marriage offered the perfect opening. “When are you going to tell me about the woman in Wyoming?”
He gave her his most innocent look before his gaze dropped to her feet. “Aren’t you going to wear shoes?”
“You can tell me, Jake. I won’t judge. Remember how we could always tell each other anything.”
Their long held secret buzzed in her ear like a gnat. She swatted it away.
“Not worth talking about. She and I didn’t work out.”
Didn’t work out. Was that what he thought about the two of them? They hadn’t worked out so he had chosen never to come home again?
“You look nice.” He stepped close and his voice dipped low. “Smell good, too. Like flowers on the wind.”
Allison’s breath left her body. She reeled back in time to another voice, another man who’d said she smelled good.
But this was Jake. A man she’d trusted as much as her brothers. Mentally, she wrestled the other voice back inside her locked box and found safety in Jake Hamilton’s green eyes.
Beneath the cowboy hat lived a good and godly man. Somehow she had to convince her brothers of that.
“Thanks for believing me,” he said. “About the vandalism. I wouldn’t.”
“I know.”
Expression soft as a cloud, he reached for a lock of her hair and gently tugged. For as far back as she could remember Jake had tugged her hair. Yet, tonight was different. The action held a deeper meaning, a new tenderness that resonated deep within her. His eyes questioned hers. He must wonder, as she did, where this subtle shift would take them—if it could, indeed, take them anywhere.
Warm and pleasant as a baby’s breath, a tingle danced over Allison’s skin. She didn’t know what might happen between them if given the chance, but she believed in the impossible. God could mend the rift between her family and the only man who’d ever mattered.
Jake Hamilton held her heart in his cowboy hands—probably always had. As she’d trusted him that long ago night to hold her secret, she trusted Jake to hold her heart with care.
For the briefest, breath-held moment, she thought he might kiss her. Then, as if one of her brothers had tapped his shoulder, he dropped his hand and stepped back.
What would it take to push him over the edge, to break through the regret into the warm and tender center Allison knew existed? To a man who accepted responsibility for wrong, all the while holding a secret that could change attitudes?
Flummoxed and a little disappointed, she reverted to safer ground, a tease, a joke, meaningless chatter.
“Are you going to feed me or not?” Her voice was throaty and a little breathy, a dead giveaway for the emotion Jake didn’t seem ready to handle.
One eyebrow flicked. “Persistent as a buffalo gnat.”
His words teased but his eyes were serious. They’d walked into his emotional danger zone, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Allison didn’t either, though she wanted to go there and find out. Apparently, Jake didn’t. At least, not yet.
She understood. He was the one carrying the baggage, not her.
Taking her tiny handbag from the end table by the love seat, Allison kept her tone light, though her heart rattled with hope and possibility. “Let’s get this party started.”
“Sounds good to me. I’m starved.”
Jake guided her out into the faded day and used her key to lock the house. Against a bruised sky, the sun cast an orange glow along the horizon. There was little wind but the air had cooled into the November fifties, and Allison was glad for the heavy sweater she’d second-guessed.
“Chinese?” Jake asked. Safe topics. Food and weather.
“Perfect. Feed me now, feed me later.” The old joke about Chinese food brought a smile and broke the lingering thread
“Buchanon built to my specs. Jayla lives in the other side.”
“I figured you for a girl who’d live with her parents until she married.”
His comment about marriage offered the perfect opening. “When are you going to tell me about the woman in Wyoming?”
He gave her his most innocent look before his gaze dropped to her feet. “Aren’t you going to wear shoes?”
“You can tell me, Jake. I won’t judge. Remember how we could always tell each other anything.”
Their long held secret buzzed in her ear like a gnat. She swatted it away.
“Not worth talking about. She and I didn’t work out.”
Didn’t work out. Was that what he thought about the two of them? They hadn’t worked out so he had chosen never to come home again?
“You look nice.” He stepped close and his voice dipped low. “Smell good, too. Like flowers on the wind.”
Allison’s breath left her body. She reeled back in time to another voice, another man who’d said she smelled good.
But this was Jake. A man she’d trusted as much as her brothers. Mentally, she wrestled the other voice back inside her locked box and found safety in Jake Hamilton’s green eyes.
Beneath the cowboy hat lived a good and godly man. Somehow she had to convince her brothers of that.
“Thanks for believing me,” he said. “About the vandalism. I wouldn’t.”
“I know.”
Expression soft as a cloud, he reached for a lock of her hair and gently tugged. For as far back as she could remember Jake had tugged her hair. Yet, tonight was different. The action held a deeper meaning, a new tenderness that resonated deep within her. His eyes questioned hers. He must wonder, as she did, where this subtle shift would take them—if it could, indeed, take them anywhere.
Warm and pleasant as a baby’s breath, a tingle danced over Allison’s skin. She didn’t know what might happen between them if given the chance, but she believed in the impossible. God could mend the rift between her family and the only man who’d ever mattered.
Jake Hamilton held her heart in his cowboy hands—probably always had. As she’d trusted him that long ago night to hold her secret, she trusted Jake to hold her heart with care.
For the briefest, breath-held moment, she thought he might kiss her. Then, as if one of her brothers had tapped his shoulder, he dropped his hand and stepped back.
What would it take to push him over the edge, to break through the regret into the warm and tender center Allison knew existed? To a man who accepted responsibility for wrong, all the while holding a secret that could change attitudes?
Flummoxed and a little disappointed, she reverted to safer ground, a tease, a joke, meaningless chatter.
“Are you going to feed me or not?” Her voice was throaty and a little breathy, a dead giveaway for the emotion Jake didn’t seem ready to handle.
One eyebrow flicked. “Persistent as a buffalo gnat.”
His words teased but his eyes were serious. They’d walked into his emotional danger zone, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Allison didn’t either, though she wanted to go there and find out. Apparently, Jake didn’t. At least, not yet.
She understood. He was the one carrying the baggage, not her.
Taking her tiny handbag from the end table by the love seat, Allison kept her tone light, though her heart rattled with hope and possibility. “Let’s get this party started.”
“Sounds good to me. I’m starved.”
Jake guided her out into the faded day and used her key to lock the house. Against a bruised sky, the sun cast an orange glow along the horizon. There was little wind but the air had cooled into the November fifties, and Allison was glad for the heavy sweater she’d second-guessed.
“Chinese?” Jake asked. Safe topics. Food and weather.
“Perfect. Feed me now, feed me later.” The old joke about Chinese food brought a smile and broke the lingering thread
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