Chapter Seven

“Will you kiss me?”

The words were whispered so softly, Dan swore he’d imagined the request rather than actually heard it. But one glance at Sofie’s face, one touch of eyes that held passion and fear and doubt, and he’d already cupped her delicate chin and lowered his head.

The first brush was a benediction. The second, confirmation that not only did Sofie look like an angel, but she felt like one as well. The kiss stayed chaste. Two people drawing strength and emotion from simple brushes and lingering caresses. He pulled her closer and nuzzled her chin. Her head dropped back, allowing him access to her long, graceful neck. Each sweep of his mouth against her skin lit a fire inside him. One that had nothing to do with the sexual, and all to do with worshiping.

Sofie pushed away with a gasp. “Oh!” Her hands cradled the bump that had prevented them from plastering against one another.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” He was done apologizing for wanting things. For seizing the moment. Plus, she’d asked.

“It’s not— Oof.”

He wrapped his hands on her shoulders, concern replacing the haze of passion still arcing between them. “What’s wrong?”

She smiled. “It seems I have a protective one in here.”

Dan glanced down to see her hands jerking against her stomach. He placed his hands over hers and was instantly rewarded with a sharp jut.

It was if his heart stopped for a minute and kicked back in with a new rhythm. One that beat to Sofie and her baby’s heartbeat.

How long they stood there enjoying the antics of her baby boy, he couldn’t say. It was only the loud knock at the door that had their hands reluctantly dropping.

Dan opened it to find a tray and one of the kitchen staff.

“Dan, hey. Shelby sent this up for Ms. Pennington. Thought she might be hungry since she didn’t see her in the dining room earlier this evening.”

Dan moved aside and let the server in. Sofie had her back to the guest, no doubt trying to contain the emotions that had spilled across her face the moment before their interruption.

“Thank Shelby for me,” Sofie threw over her shoulder, and the server left.

Dan peeked under a platter. “In true Shelby fashion, she’s got all the basic food groups covered.”

Sofie turned to face him and smiled, but it was weak and wary. “She definitely likes to make decisions for people, doesn’t she?”

Something in Sofie’s tone had him on high alert. She’d been touchy about doing things for herself since she’d tried to take on those cows when they met. He wasn’t sure what the story was there, but he knew when a retreat was called for.

“I’ll leave you be to enjoy your food in peace. Thanks for joining me tonight. I had a great time.”

Sofie crossed over to him and hugged him. As she let go, his body urged him to prolong it, but he knew better. There was nothing but simple thanks in the hug. Gone was the awareness, the tension. The shared connection over the somersaults of her unborn child. She was spooked, and honestly, so was he. This was crazy for both of them.

“Thank you for a fun evening.”

He grabbed his hat and left, ignoring how her emphasis on the word fun rubbed him the wrong way. As if she wanted to erase the connection that shone brightly this evening. Sofie Pennington was here, pregnant, and ready to start a new life in Fly Creek. He was still determined to leave the ranch and the town. He was done being a substitute for anyone or anything. Besides, if she could brush it off so easily, was there really anything even there? Was this just wishful thinking on his part for some type of Christmas miracle?

If he left, would he ever find out the truth? And if he stayed, would he have a heart left when it was all said and done?

…

The next morning, Sofie trailed her gloved fingers along the split rail fence. Little patches of snow remained here and there, but for the most part, the dirt and gravel were free and clear. The biting winter air still snapped and pinched, but she welcomed it. Welcomed the sign that she was well and truly free. That her new life and path, the one where she was in charge, making the decisions, calling the shots, was here and now. A peace had settled into her veins, leaving her movements and heart more carefree. More open to making and sticking to the decisions that were hers and hers alone now.

In the couple of days since meeting the welcoming committee of bovines, she had started to live life. She’d taken walks, watched some races, kissed a cowboy. None of that added up to anything life-altering, but it was something. Something she had complete control over. She had also contacted Emily’s doctor and had an appointment set up. Every decision counted, right?

Thinking about how little she had accomplished led to thinking about how many decisions remained. Stopping, Sofie took a deep breath and waited for her heart to calm down its gallop. She could do this. Was doing this. Everything did not need to be decided today.

She’d walked down to the lake and around to the same bench where she’d sat and watched Dan with the boys. Today, the lake’s surface was still full of people ice fishing. She assumed they knew what they were doing, but she hadn’t missed the few ranch hands wandering the shore keeping a close eye on things.

Relaxing against the cold wood, she laughed as a fish found its freedom thanks to some slippery gloved hands. These visitors were enjoying their life. Making memories. One day she could be out there teaching her son how to ice fish. Helping him bait the hook and making sure he was steady on his feet. The fact that she had no idea how to ice fish didn’t matter. She would learn. And then she would teach.

It would be nice if I had a co-teacher.

Wasn’t that the truth. While she was choosing to go it alone, there was no disputing that four hands were better than two. Especially, she imagined, with little boys. Little country boys, at that.

She left her bench and uneasy thoughts and circled back around. A glance at the paddock on her right showed a few horses milling about, plaid and solid-covered blankets on their backs. She tightened her coat, a new one much more suited to this weather than the parka, which Dan had pegged on the nose. Thinking back over the past three days, she hadn’t expected to stand out so much. It wasn’t like she was in a foreign country, and yet things were different here in Fly Creek. Not just in clothing and sayings and sights, but in the pace, the feeling. It was as if the outside world was held just a little at bay.

She wasn’t foolish enough to think it was Mayberry, with no downside or crime or any of the other stuff, but it did give the illusion that it had a force field that kept the uglier parts of the world away. Or at least toned down. Either that or they were really good at keeping things a secret, which, given the way gossip seemed to spread, she doubted.

She waddled on, and another paddock came up on her left. The road right before it she knew would take her down to Dan’s cabin. It was a tidbit of information she shouldn’t care about. Shouldn’t even remember, and yet she knew it by sight and could picture the little lane widening down and to the right, where it ended at his home. The cabin rose up in her mind, honey gold with a maroon roof, the front porch empty except for a floor mat with a large R in the center. She’d just been able to make out maroon curtains through the windows on either side of the wooden door.

His pride in his home had spilled off of him as he’d circled the driveway and back out onto the lane last night before the saddle races, before the night of fun he’d given her. She could still feel his kiss on her lips.

“Snap out of it, Sof.” She shook her head and passed by, focusing on the paddock ahead and…was that? She hurried across the road to the fence to get a better look.

“Good Lord.” Sofie covered her mouth. There, in the middle of a pile of snow, lay a horse. She didn’t even know horses could lay down. Looking closer, she saw no movement. Couldn’t detect any evidence of breathing. It lay still as a marble statue.

She shouted, but it didn’t so much as twitch. Picking up a rock, she banged it on the fence, praying for movement, a sign. Nothing. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as the cold wind amplified the pain.

Oh God, what should she do? Go to the lodge? She glanced around, but all the ranch hands she’d seemed to stumble over earlier were gone. The lodge would take forever. She pulled out her phone, but as Emily had predicted, the signal was nonexistent. The lane she’d passed peeked through the trees. Dan’s cabin. He’d told her where the key was, informing her that if she needed a place to escape to, or wanted a kitchen or anything, it was available to her.

Another intense glance at the horse, a beauty in pale brown, and she hurried toward the cabin as fast as her unstable body could take her.

Huffing and puffing up his steps, she reached for the key in the lantern only to have the door yanked open.

“Sofie. You okay?”

The tears erupted on a sob, and she fell into Dan’s open arms. “There’s a horse. He’s dead, and I didn’t know what to do, and what if some kid sees it. I’m so sorry, Dan.”

Dan held her and shook. Was he upset, too? She glanced up, only to see him trying very hard not to smile. Smile? What kind of animal was he?

“Are you laughing?”

He shook his head. “No. I mean…” The rest of him shook again.

“Dead horses are funny to you?” She lurched out of his hold and walked back down the steps. Lord, if ever she needed a splash of reality this was it. Now the slight illusions of Dan in and out of his cowboy attire would surely stop rearing their heads at the most inconvenient times. He was laughing over a dead horse, for goodness sake. Well, hello, other shoe. She knew he was too good to be true, although she never imagined such cruelty.

“Sofie. Wait up.”

She kept moving, aware he followed but refusing to acknowledge such an evil-hearted man. How could she have been so wrong about him?

They came up to the paddock where the horse still lay. Dead as a doornail. Only…were those people on the fence? And were they laughing, too? Was everyone in Fly Creek heartless? Definitely not Mayberry.

She stepped up to the fence, and Dan slid in beside her. A quick glance showed him holding an apple. Lord, he was eating. It was like a sideshow at the circus. Where was her popcorn?

The people across from them were hooting and hollering, and still, the horse lay dead. It was horrible, and her hormone-ridden body couldn’t take any more.

Through streaming tears, she cried, “Y’all are horrible, insensitive people. Please find someone to take care of this poor creature before a child sees.”

Dan sobered and covered her trembling hand. “Okay.” He took a loud, crunchy bite of the apple, and the horse leaped up onto his front hoofs, kicking out his back then trotting over to Dan, who proceeded to palm him the remaining fruit. Stroking the equine’s snout, Dan tried to hold in his smile and failed as Sofie gaped at them.

“Sofie, meet Royce.”

Sofie glanced from the perfectly content and very much alive horse to the people on the far fence who were laughing and smiling to the cowboy beside her. Had they all played a cruel joke on her? Let’s tease the city slicker?

“I’m sorry. I should have warned you about him. He’s kinda famous in these parts.”

“Famous for playing dead?”

“Pretty much. If it makes you feel any better, he got me and Becky Jane, the vet. She was about as hysterical as you were. Now she refuses to give him the time of day despite his attempts at repentance.”

As if he knew he was being discussed, Royce nudged Sofie’s arms several times until she couldn’t resist stroking his smooth snout. “That wasn’t very funny, Royce.”

She stared at his chocolate brown eyes and could swear she saw a little bit of remorse. The man next to her, however… “I cannot believe you let me fall for it.”

“Me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I was all but self-combusting in your arms?”

Dan’s gaze turned from one of repentance to one of heat as he looked her up and down. “Self-combusting, huh?”

Uh-oh. She took a step back. “Poor choice of words.”

Dan crossed his arms. “I don’t know. Things were a little heated.”

“Heated as in I now know you’re an evil-hearted man.”

He grinned, and Sofie couldn’t hold in the laugh. Royce snorted and went to the visitors on the other side, probably to pull the wool over on their eyes, too.

“I’m sorry. I was surprised, and then by the time I realized what had happened, you were hell-bent on getting away. I figured actions might speak better than words. If I had said he was playing dead, would you have believed me?”

Sofie twisted her lips and narrowed her gaze. “Probably not, but don’t you know you don’t mess with pregnant women’s feelings?”

“Actually, I did know that, thanks to your sister. I promise, hand to God, it won’t happen again. Anything to do with your feelings will be genuine.”

Was that a hidden meaning? A challenge? An invitation? Thrills of the emotional kind shot off in all directions as she debated which, if any, of the options seemed best. Before she could make a decision, Dan tipped his hat and walked back toward his cabin.

“Oh, by the way, I’ve made plans for us tonight.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I think you’ll enjoy a little downtime.”

Was it her imagination or was there a sexy promise to his words?

…

“Baking cookies?”

“You have a problem with cookies?”

“Of course not, but when you said you had plans for us…”

Well, crap. Had he screwed this up? He’d hoped a nice, simple evening in might be better after the foul-up that afternoon with Royce, and all the traipsing about Fly Creek they’d done. Dan thought maybe they could relax in each other’s company, maybe make some of the lines that had been forming in Sofie’s normally angelic face ease. He could only begin to imagine how overwhelming it was to move to a new town, eight months pregnant, and know no one except your sister, only to have said sister up and leave.

And what better way to relax than baking.

“We can totally go out. What’s your pleasure? The Wooden Nickel again, or maybe a movie? Bowling probably isn’t the best choice right now…”

“There’s a bowling alley in Fly Creek?” Disbelief laced the question.

He rocked back on his heels. “Yep, and we even have a stoplight, in case you forgot.”

She punched him in the shoulder, looking slightly bashful. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

In that moment, smiling, blush coloring her face, Sofie looked radiant. Before he realized what he was doing, he brushed a piece of hair off her cheek and froze. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Before she could respond, he quickly escaped into the kitchen, aware that she remained in the exact same spot. He was a fool. That was a sweet gesture. One reserved for couples. Or people who might be couples. Sofie and him were neither, and honestly, neither had the right ingredients to become one, either.

“Cookies for the win.” Her voice was slightly strained, and it was his fault. He’d crossed the line again, only this time he didn’t have any mistletoe to fall back on. No matter how much he told himself to keep his distance, there was something about her that kept drawing him to her.

“I even got the ingredients to make some horse biscuits. You know, in case Royce acts up again.”

When she launched a glove in his direction, he knew his joke had lightened the tension.

They worked in tandem, measuring, pouring, and shifting around one another. Dan was extra careful not to touch her in any way. He didn’t want her to add another set of worries to the mix. One cup of horny cowboy.

Falling back on simple, light conversation, they asked surface questions to pass the time and avoid the white elephant in the room.

“Favorite holiday?” she asked as she sifted flour into a bowl.

“Christmas,” he said, without thinking.

Silence echoed. Crap.

A quick glance showed her looking about his cabin, her brow furrowed.

“Why haven’t you decorated for Christmas? If it’s your favorite holiday.”

Dan pulled a tray of cookies out and set them on the cooling rack. He could lie and say there’d been no time this year. End of discussion. No opening for more to come spilling out. But this was Sofie, the very pregnant angel who had somehow wormed her city slicker, I’m-doing-things-my-way, Madonna-looking smile into his life. He didn’t think he could lie to her.

Placing another tray into the oven, he shut it and dropped his oven mitt on the island. Sofie had half a cookie hanging out of her mouth.

“Want some milk?”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

He smiled and poured some milk and then cocked a hip against his counter. “Two reasons. One, everything just felt off this year and the urge to go all out wasn’t there. And two…I wasn’t planning on being here.”

Her large hazel eyes widened, and she swallowed hard, chasing the gooey cookies with the whole glass of milk. “Were you going to visit family?”

“I don’t have any family.”

“Oh.” She scraped at some crumbs on the counter. “So you were leaving Fly Creek?”

He nodded, suddenly unsure of the emotions pouring off the woman across from him.

“Why?”

Ahh, the key question and one he felt like a fool trying to explain. How did you complain about not feeling like enough, being appreciated enough, when the person doing the listening had traveled cross-country with everything she owned, eight months pregnant to boot.

Before he could figure out how to answer, she snapped her fingers.

“That’s what you were doing the night we met. Leaving.”

Escaping. Running Away.

“Yes.”

“And I stopped you.”

He shrugged. “Technically, the cows did.”

She narrowed her gaze. “And now you can’t leave because you’re stuck babysitting me.” Frustration poured off her, and she pinched her lips and threw her hands up. “I’m so sorry. I know what it means to be trapped.”

Dan rounded the counter and placed hands on her shoulders. “I’m not stuck doing anything. I have enjoyed every minute we’ve spent together. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Is there someone else?”

“What?”

“Were you leaving for a woman?”

“No. God, no. I was leaving for me. In Fly Creek, I’m the dependable one. The one good enough but never enough. Friend but never lover. Surrogate son but never the son. Supported, tolerated, but never wanted and needed. I want to be someone’s first choice. I want to give to someone who wants me not for what I can do or but because I’ll do.”

“I don’t think anyone around he—”

Dan held a finger up to her lips, ignoring their softness, the urge to taste rosy skin and lick honey and crumbs from the corner. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted to be honest with you.”

She nodded, and he reluctantly let his hand fall. Putting space between them, he scooped up the remaining cookies and placed them on the wire rack to cool.

“If it means anything, I think you’re great.”

The words were so soft, spoken to the white plate in front of her, one finger tracing the rim while the other cradled the top of her belly. His hand stood suspended with a cookie on the silicone spatula.

“I think you’re great, too.”

She glanced up between her lashes. The look of hope and fear, of curiosity and wariness, kept him firmly planted where he was. Had the conflicting emotions been missing, he would have rounded the counter faster than a hockey puck on the ice. But Sofie also had a secret. She knew what it felt like to be trapped. She had a reason driving her wariness. A reason supporting her conflicting emotions when it came to him. And that kept his boots firmly planted in the friend zone.

Despite the kisses they’d shared the other night, Dan knew that he and Sofie needed to remain friends. Her reasons might be confusing her, but his were solid. He was leaving. She was staying. He needed appreciation to give freely without expectation. Sofie’s desire to stand on her own two feet—her struggle with accepting any kind of help—that was the exact opposite of everything he hoped to find one day. These were the arguments that kept him from rounding the island, no matter how much he yearned to.