“Well, it looks like you accomplished what you set out to do,” she muttered to herself as she poured a cup of coffee and started a pan of oatmeal for her son’s breakfast.
So why didn’t she feel better about it?
“Mom-mom, hungee,” Seth said sleepily as he toddled into the room.
“I’m making your favorite, sweetie. Oatmeal with cinnamon and a sprinkle of brown sugar,” she said, picking him up.
“Hossy?” he asked, looking around the kitchen.
“T.J. had to go home,” she said gently.
“No!” Seth shook his little head. “My hossy.”
“Maybe we’ll see T.J. another time,” she offered, hoping the thought would be enough to keep Seth from becoming more upset.
Luckily, it did seem to pacify him for a while, but he did ask about T.J. periodically throughout the morning and by the time she got Seth down for his nap after lunch, Heather felt as if she could cry. It was clear that Seth missed T.J. and if she was honest with herself, she did, too.
How could the man have integrated himself into their lives in such a short amount of time? And what was there about him that was so darned compelling?
He wasn’t the first man who had shown her attention since she’d found herself on her own.
One of the ranchers from the next county over had bought one of her brood mares last year. Several months ago, he had come by to take her and Seth for ice cream on the pretense of discussing the purchase of another horse. It had quickly become apparent that he considered the outing a date. Although he was nice enough, the kiss he’d given her when he’d brought them home had done nothing to encourage her to go anywhere else with him. She compared that to the first time T.J. had kissed her. That had felt as if time stood still. It had left her wanting him to do it again, and soon.
She rubbed at the tension building between her eyes. Why him? Why did T. J. Malloy have to be the one to awaken a need in her that she had all but forgotten?
When she’d told him that she was concerned for Seth, concerned about the bond she could see growing between them, she had deliberately omitted the fact that she was frightened by the way he made her feel, as well. T.J. reminded her of how much she missed being in a relationship, of how lonely life was without someone to share it with.
Of course, he had talked about being a good neighbor and wanting to help her with the ranch, but beyond kissing her a few times he hadn’t mentioned anything about a relationship. And she wasn’t interested in one, either.
Was she?
As she sat at the kitchen table, wondering if the stress had finally gotten to her and she’d lost what little sense she had left, Heather heard a vehicle coming up the driveway. When she glanced out the window, two white trucks with the Dusty Diamond logo painted on the sides, followed by T.J.’s black truck, parked close to the barn. The beds of the trucks were all piled high with bales of hay, straw and sacks of grain.
She wasn’t certain whether she was happy to see T.J. or angry that he had ignored her request not to stop by again. A mixture of emotions coursed through her when he got out of his truck. Even from a distance he was so darned good-looking it was almost sinful, but he apparently had ignored everything she’d told him.
She started to go outside to see what he thought he was doing, but when she glanced at the clock she realized Seth would be waking up soon. Not wanting to get him up before his nap was over and unwilling to leave him alone in the house, she stepped out onto the porch to call out to T.J. “Would you please come up to the house for a few minutes?”
When he walked across the ranch yard and up the steps, just the sight of him was enough to take her breath away, which seemed to happen too frequently around him. But when he stopped in front of her and gave her a brief kiss on the lips, she wondered if she would ever breathe again.
“What’s up, sweetheart?”
His easy smile sent a shiver of longing straight up her spine and she forgot all about admonishing him for kissing her and for not staying away liked she’d asked.
“Wh-where did all that come from?” she asked, pointing to the supplies his men were unloading and carrying into her barn. It was much easier to focus on what he had done than on the man himself. “I can’t pay for it. I only buy what I can afford.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I had some extra hay and straw taking up space in my loft. The other day when my foreman ordered oats, he ordered several dozen extra bags. I thought you might as well have them. It’ll save you from having to make a trip to town in the next day or so.”
“I told you I’m not a charity case,” she said, shaking her head.