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To him, it was probably just small talk.
To Madison it was a promise, sacred and precious.
Kendra bit her lower lip, thinking. She could play the heavy, of course, say she'd rather Madison didn't get on a horse until she was a little older-conveniently, that was the truth-but one, she didn't want to raise a fearful child and, two, why should she be the one to disappoint Madison, while Hutch came off as the good guy, the one who'd tried to make the dream happen and would have succeeded, if not for her?
No.
This time, for once in his life, he was going to follow through.
Madison would have her horseback ride; Kendra would make sure of that, for her little girl's sake.
As soon as they got home, Madison fetched a roll of cellophane tape from Kendra's office, climbed onto a chair and proudly affixed her "family" drawing to the refrigerator door.
"There," she said, getting down and standing back to admire the installation.
Kendra admired it, too. "You'd better make some more pictures," she said thoughtfully. "That one looks a little lonely all by itself."
Madison readily agreed and ran off, Daisy on her heels, to find her crayons.
Kendra returned the chair to its place at the table, got out her cell phone and bravely keyed through stored numbers until she found Hutch's. When was the last time she'd dialed that one?
"h.e.l.lo?" he said after the second ring.
"We need to talk," Kendra answered, employing a clandestine whisper. "When can we get together?"
CHAPTER TEN.
WE NEED TO TALK. When can we get together?
To say Kendra's words had caught Hutch off guard would be the understatement of the century, but he hoped his tone sounded casual when he replied, "Okay, sure. I'm just leaving Boone's place-I've got some ch.o.r.es to do at home, and I could really use a shower."
TMI, he thought ruefully. Too much information. The woman hadn't asked for a personal hygiene report, after all.
Because he disapproved of other people talking on their cell phones while they drove, Hutch pulled over to one side of Boone's weed-shorn yard and let the men he'd brought over from Whisper Creek pa.s.s on by him in their trucks, and Opal, too.
Probably thinking there might be trouble, Opal stopped her big station wagon and started to roll down her window to ask if everything was all right, but Hutch grinned and waved her on.
Kendra sounded a little fl.u.s.tered when she answered, as though she might be wishing not only that she hadn't phrased the invite the way she had, but that she'd never called him at all. "Tonight, tomorrow-whenever," she stumbled.
Hutch felt better, aching muscles and ravenous hunger notwithstanding. Obviously, he wasn't the only one feeling a little out of their depth at the moment and he had to admit, the "we need to talk" part intrigued him in a big way.
"So this is nothing urgent," he concluded with a smile in his voice. He didn't need to see Kendra to know she was blushing to the roots of her pale gold hair; practically every emotion showed plainly on the landscape of her face and usually her inner climate did, too.
Kendra Shepherd might look like a Nordic ice queen, but Hutch knew she was capable of tropical heat.
Meanwhile, Kendra struggled bravely on, determined to make her point, whatever the heck that was. "No-I mean-well, I suppose we could discuss it now-"
"That's fine, too," Hutch said amiably, relishing the exchange.
"Yes, Madison," she said to her daughter, who could be heard asking questions in the background, "you do have to wash your hands before supper. You've been petting the dog, for Pete's sake."
Hutch chuckled at that. "I'll stop by later tonight," he offered. "What time does Madison go to bed?"
"Eight," Kendra said weakly.
"Then I'll be there around eight-thirty."
There was a pause, during which Hutch half expected Kendra to change her mind, tell him there was no need to come over in person because she could just say what she had to say right there on the phone.
Except that, for whatever reason, Kendra didn't seem to want Madison to be privy to what was said.
"Eight-thirty," Kendra confirmed, sighing the words.
Hutch agreed on the time, set his phone aside and hurried home, where he fed the horses, took a shower, wolfed down cold chicken and potato salad, leftovers from the meal Opal had served over at Boone's earlier in the day, and checked the clock about every five minutes.
It wasn't even six yet.
He'd done everything that needed doing at warp-speed, it seemed. What the h.e.l.l was he supposed to do with the two and a half hours still to go before he could show up on Kendra's doorstep?
"You've sure got a burr under your hide about something," Opal commented, putting away the remains of the feast. She'd left some of the overflow with Boone and given shares to the ranch hands who'd helped out with the work, too. n.o.body turned down Opal's potato salad, ever. "Jumpy as a cat on a griddle, that's what you are."
Good-naturedly, Hutch elbowed her aside and took over the job she'd been doing, shoving chicken and potato salad every which way into the fridge. "Why don't you take the night off?" he asked companionably, when he thought enough time had elapsed so the question wouldn't sound contrived.
"Given that I don't work for you in the first place," Opal informed him, "that's an interesting suggestion. What are you up to, Hutch Carmody? You planning on heading back to the Boot Scoot Tavern again tonight, looking to drum up some more trouble?"
He laughed. "No," he said. "I'm not going to the Boot Scoot, and never mind that, it's none of your business if I do."
Opal's eyes were sly, even suspicious. "There's Bingo tonight," she said. "I never miss a game, especially when I'm on a lucky streak. Since I'm headed into town anyway, I could drop you someplace, pick you up later on."
"I do my own driving these days," he reminded her dryly. "Have been since the day I got my license."
"Fine," Opal said with a sniff, untying her ap.r.o.n and heading for her part of the house, presumably to get dolled up for a big night wielding Bingo daubers in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the Elks' Club. "Don't tell me what's going on. It isn't as if I won't find out sooner or later. All I've got to do is keep my ear to the ground and sure enough, somebody will mention seeing you tonight, and they'll have the details, too."
Hutch laughed again, shook his head. He'd have sworn he'd never miss being nagged by a woman, but he surely had. Having Opal around was like having a mom again-a good feeling, even if it was a bit on the constricting side. "I'm going to see Kendra," he admitted. "And don't ask me why, because the whole thing was her idea and I don't have the first clue what she wants."
Opal's eyes were suddenly alight with mischievous supposition. "Well, now," she said. "Kendra wants to see you. As for what she wants, anybody but a big dumb cowboy like you would know that from the get-go." She paused to reflect for a few moments, and at the tail end of the thought process, she was looking a little less delighted than before. "You get on the wrong side of her again? Is that it?"
"I'm always on the wrong side of Kendra," Hutch said lightly. But the view is good from any direction.
Opal shuffled past him, yanked open the refrigerator, and neatly rearranged everything he'd just shoved in there. "Make sure you pick up some flowers on your way over," she instructed, dusting her hands together as she turned to face him again. "That way if you are in the doghouse, which wouldn't surprise me, Kendra might forgive you quicker."
"Forgive me?" Hutch echoed, pretending to be offended. "I haven't done anything she needs to forgive me for."
"Maybe not recently," Opal conceded, with another sniff and a glance that begrudged him all grace. "But you did enough damage to last a lifetime back in the day. Get the flowers. There were some nice Gerbera daisies at the supermarket when I was there yesterday."
Hutch executed a deep bow of acquiescence.
Opal gave a scoffing laugh, waved a hand at him and went off to get ready for a wild night of Bingo.
KENDRA PEERED INTO the yellow glow of the porch light and caught her breath.
She'd been expecting Hutch, of course, but for some reason, every encounter with the man, planned as well as unplanned, made her feel as though she'd just taken hold of the wrong end of a cattle prod.
He wore newish jeans, a crisply pressed and possibly even starched cotton shirt in a pale shade of yellow, polished boots and a good hat instead of the usual one that looked as though it had just been trampled in a stampede or retrieved from the bed of a pickup truck.
And he was holding a colorful bouquet of flowers in his left hand.
He must have misunderstood her phone call, she thought, with a sort of delicious desperation. Her heart hammered against her breastbone, and her breathing was so shallow that she was afraid she might hyperventilate if she didn't get a grip.
After drawing a very deep breath, Kendra opened the front door; he'd seen her through the frosted oval window, so it was too late to pretend she wasn't home.
He took off the hat with a deftness that reminded her instantly of other subtle moves he'd made, under much more intimate circ.u.mstances, way back in those thrilling days-and nights-of yesteryear.
"The flowers were Opal's idea," he said first thing.
Kendra's mouth twitched with amus.e.m.e.nt. Hutch was doing a good job of hiding the fact, but he was as nervous as she was, maybe even more so.
"No wine?" she quipped. "You're slipping, cowboy."
He let his gaze range over her, just briefly, as she stepped back so he could come inside. "I figured that would be pushing my luck," he said, and she couldn't tell if he was kidding or serious.
Kendra led the way through the house to the kitchen and offered him a seat at the table. She'd long since cleared away all evidence of supper, supervised Madison's bath, read her a story and heard her prayers, and she'd checked on the child a couple of times over the past half hour, as well.
Both Madison and Daisy had been sound asleep each time she looked in.
Kendra accepted the flowers, found a vase and arranged them quickly. The colors, reds and maroons, oranges and deep pinks and purples, thrilled her senses, a riot of beauty.
When she turned around with the bouquet in hand, she nearly collided with Hutch.
Color climbed her cheeks and she stepped around him to set the flowers in the middle of the kitchen table.
"There's coffee, if you'd like some," she told him, feeling as shy as if he were a stranger and not a man who'd made love to her in all sorts of scandalous places and positions.
Stop it, she scolded herself.
Hutch's eyes twinkled as he watched her-he was seeing too much. Although he could be infuriatingly obtuse, he had a perceptive side, too. One that generally worked to his advantage. "Thanks," he said, "but I've had plenty of java already. One more cup and I'll be up all night putting a new roof on the barn or something."
Kendra smiled at the image, calming down a little on the inside. "I'll just look in on Madison once more," she said, and beat a hasty retreat for the hallway. What was it about Hutch that made all her nerves rise to the surface of her skin and sizzle there, like some kind of invisible fire?
He said nothing as she hurried away, but she would have sworn she felt the heat of his gaze wherever her shorts and tank top left her skin bare-on the backs of her arms and calves, on her nape.
Madison, she soon discovered, was still asleep in her "princess bed," or doing a darned good job of playing possum. Daisy, curled up by Madison's feet, raised her downy golden head, yawned and descended back into the realm of doggy dreams.
Since there was no excuse for lingering-and she'd been the one to suggest this rendezvous in the first place-Kendra forced herself to go back to the kitchen and face Hutch.
He was still standing in the center of the room, hat in hand, and he pulled back a chair at the table for her as adeptly as if they'd been in some fancy restaurant instead of her own modest kitchen.
She sat, interlaced her fingers on the table top and silently wondered why she'd gotten herself into a situation like this-it wasn't like her. The pop-psychology types would probably say she had an unconscious agenda-s.e.x, for instance.
Definitely not true.
s.e.x was out of the question with Madison in the house.
Thanks to this particular cowboy, though, the small kitchen seemed charged with the stuff, even electrified.
While Kendra's brain was trying to make sense of her own actions, Hutch hung his hat from a peg beside the back door and came to sit down across from her. He watched her in silence for a few moments, his expression solemn, and finally uttered a mildly plaintive, "What?"
Kendra, all fired up over his promise to take Madison for a horseback ride earlier, felt silly now. Why hadn't she simply said what she wanted to say while they were on the phone before?
Because she'd wanted to see Hutch, that was why. Ever since she'd watched him on Tara's porch, through those binoculars, he'd been on her mind. She was trying to prevent Madison from being disappointed over a much wanted horseback ride that didn't ever quite happen-any mother would feel the same-but in retrospect, the requested meeting looked...well...transparent.
G.o.d, this was embarra.s.sing.
"This is really no big deal," she began awkwardly. "It's just-"
And then she couldn't force out another word. Her face burned and she wanted to look away from Hutch's face, but pride wouldn't let her take the easy way out.
"I'm listening," he reminded her quietly.
"Madison is really counting on a horseback ride," Kendra blurted, still awkward.
He raised one eyebrow in silent question. "And?" his expression prompted.
"I'm getting this all wrong," Kendra fretted. "It seemed like such a good idea before, to get everything out in the open and all that, but now-"
Hutch looked genuinely puzzled, maybe even flummoxed. If Kendra hadn't felt like such an idiot the look on his face would have made her laugh.
"But now?" he urged, his voice low and baffled. "You've decided against letting Madison go for a horseback ride?"
Suddenly, she giggled. It was some kind of nervous reaction, of course, but the release of tension was welcome, even though it did feel a lot like the spring of an old-fashioned watch breaking and spinning itself unwound. "No, that isn't it," she managed, after a moment of recovery. "I just got to thinking that you might forget what you told Madison, about going riding, I mean, and she's-"
"She's counting on it," Hutch confirmed, looking only slightly less confused than before. "Kendra, what the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"
This time the giggle came out as a half-hysterical little laugh. She put a hand over her mouth and rocked, hoping the mysteries of incontinence would not be revealed to her. Especially in front of Hutch Carmody.
Before she could frame an answer, though, Hutch's eyes darkened with realization, reminding her of a sky working up a booming spate of thunder that might last for a while instead of blowing over quickly.
"You just automatically a.s.sumed I'd let her down, is that it?" he demanded, leaning in a little. His eyes flashed with indignation.