Second Chance Courtship. Glynna Kaye
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offer, would have made her seem petty. Tightening her grip on the overflowing fabric shopping bag, she exited by the Warehouse’s front door and locked up. Then, scurrying through the deepening snow, she made her way toward a recessed door between the stone-fronted Warehouse and the adjacent bakery.
She didn’t appreciate Meg’s interference—especially after she’d asked her not to set her up with the cowboy. Even if they didn’t have a canyon-size gulf from their past yawning between them, she and Trey didn’t know each other anymore. Had never known each other. Not really. He’d moved to town in November of his senior year. The fire had been in late March, after a series of drought-ridden years. So five months max. Yet she’d spent over a decade bound to him. Chained by guilt.
Gathering her courage, she pulled open the glass-paned door and started up the steep, dimly lit stairs like a condemned prisoner heading for the guillotine. She’d do her best to drop off the bag and make a hasty exit. But what if he tried to corner her as he’d done at Meg’s? Demand an explanation of her cowardice and a long overdue apology?
He had every right. She owed him that.
But not tonight.
At the sound of little girl giggles, running feet and Trey’s cowboyish whoops coming from a door left ajar at the top of the stairs, she paused. The Trey she’d known in those few short months hadn’t been criminally rebellious like some of their peers. No, he just went quietly about his business doing whatever he wanted to do, whether it was not completing homework, skipping school so he could spend more time with the horses at Duffy’s or sneaking an occasional cigarette. In all honesty, it was her own cowardice that sealed his troublemaker image in the mind of the community. Now here he was a dozen years later, a guy with a toddler in his arms and another curtain climber hanging on his leg. A regular family man. No, they didn’t know each other. At all.
At the top of the stairs it was tempting to leave the shopping bag looped over the doorknob and make her escape. But curiosity won over and she gave the door a push. Peeked inside as a giggling Missy, her chubby little legs pumping as fast as they could go, dodged Trey’s outstretched hands.
The apartment’s unobstructed, hardwood expanse made it much too appealing for an active toddler. In fact, except for the bathroom and kitchen, the nonstorage portion of the second floor consisted of a single room divided by a wide, bolted-down bookcase that separated the sleeping quarters from the front area. Perfect for an energetic little kid, as Kara remembered from her own childhood.
She stepped inside as Missy sped by.
“Don’t just stand there laughing, woman, catch her!” Trey lunged again, sliding on the polished wooden floor in his socks. Then he righted himself and in a few quick steps swept the still-giggling toddler into his arms for a bear hug.
Kara couldn’t help but clap her approval of the child’s antics—and Trey’s agile performance. She should have known a cowboy, once he got the hang of it, could round up a kid as easily as a calf.
Still clutching the shopping bag, butterfly wings hammering against the wall of her stomach, she carefully wiped her boots on the rug by the door. “My mom said I did exactly the same thing in here when I was little.”
A grinning Trey approached, Missy squirming in his arms. “You lived up here?”
“From birth through preschool. This was my folks’ first place in Canyon Springs, right above their new business.”
Trey assessed the space with a critical eye. “Now that Meg’s moved out, does your mom have any plans for it?”
Uh-oh. That sounded like a more-than-casual query. She didn’t want Trey upstairs. Didn’t want him in Canyon Springs at all. Mustering a benign smile, she cut him off at the pass. “She’ll need the extra storage space for inventory expansion. Besides, as you can probably tell, it’s not that well insulated. Cold in the winter and hot in the summer.”
The dark-eyed Missy stretched out a hand to her but she pretended not to notice.
“Meg didn’t have any complaints.” He glanced toward Mary who’d wandered to the far side of the room. He took a step closer to Kara and lowered his voice, apparently wanting to make sure the little girl was out of earshot. “Don’t want to talk about this in front of Mary—”
She tensed. Was he going to call her on the carpet? Right here and now?
“—but I’ve already worn out my welcome at my little brother’s place. They’ll be moving back to the parsonage soon, so I need an office and a place to bunk. This would be just the ticket.”
“Don’t think Mom would go for that.”
The slow smile that still made Kara’s heart skip a beat surfaced. “Why not?”
She glanced at the boots standing at attention by the door. A hat nestled on a bookcase shelf, out of reach of the girls. Then looked him over. Worn jeans. Tooled leather belt with a silver buckle. Western-cut burgundy shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Just like in high school, only a more muscled, more grown-up version of the senior classmate she remembered.
“I don’t think she’d go for, you know, a cowboy type.”
“No cowboys, huh?” He pried Missy’s fingers from his earlobe, but his amused gaze didn’t leave Kara’s face. “That’s discrimination, Kara.”
“What I mean is, if Mom was looking for a renter—which she’s not—she’d be expecting a steady income. A stable tenant who’d stick around awhile.”
“Then we’re in business.” He slapped his left leg, the apparent source of the limp. “Busted myself up so many times my surgeon’s washed his hands of me. Says I’d better not get on another bronc or bull or I could end up in traction the rest of my life. I’m grounded for good. So I’m your man.”
Her breath came a little quicker. Her man? Maybe in her dreams. Unfortunately, cowboying wasn’t the only drawback to Trey Kenton. She might as well be blunt. “Mom will remember you as you were in high school.”
“Boys grow up.” A friendly but assessing gaze slid over her and a smile quirked again. “Girls do, too.”
Their gazes met. How easy it would be to fall back into that old flirtatious teenage banter they used to share. The chemistry had stood the test of time, but she couldn’t risk it.
“Well, since Mom’s not looking to rent—”
“Maybe I’ll give her a call.”
He wouldn’t, would he? She lifted the shopping bag still clutched in her hand and held it out to him. It was time to make her escape.
“I stopped off at the Warehouse and got you a few things. Breakfast cereal and a half gallon of milk. T-shirts for the girls to sleep in. Toothpaste. Toothbrushes. A comb. Razor.”
Eyes twinkling, Trey caressed Missy’s soft cheek with the back of his hand. “Noticed the girls need a shave, did you?”
“Right.” Heart pounding, she handed off the bag and dragged her gaze from the firm jaw that once again showed evidence of a dusky shadow. “Snow’s still dumping, so I need to get going. Bedding’s in the chest over there. Meg said she’d washed it up. Washer and dryer behind the louvered doors.” She glanced at him again, still avoiding Missy, who now leaned forward in his arms, hands outstretched toward her. “Do you need any help with anything?”
She hoped not. But as the hostess for his overnight stay, she had to at least offer.
“No, you’ve been more than generous.” He set the bag on a nearby upholstered chair, the expression in his eyes becoming serious. Searching.
Oh, no. “Well, I’ll see you later then. Sleep tight.”
She turned toward the door, but he stepped forward to catch the upper arm of her coat sleeve.
Not now. I need to apologize. Beg his forgiveness. But not tonight. Not now.
He