Page 44 of Lawbreaker

Heather, divining the scene, walked in and hugged Cort, breaking the spell.

7

Tony managed to drag his eyes away from Odalie, but it had been another close call in a veritable buffet of them.

She was feeling something similar. It was obvious that he found her attractive, but he did everything in his power to push her away. She reminded herself that he had a mistress, and that he wasn’t a forever-after sort of man. That wasn’t going to change. It was something she had to accept.

She’d noticed the way he looked at the statuette Maddie had made. There had been something in his expression, in the way he turned the pretty thing in his big, beautiful lean hands that made her heart do loops. But he was never going to give in to the interest she was certain he felt. He wanted no part of her in his life. Well, he was a bachelor. No, a widower. He’d talked about his wife, about how much he’d cared for her. Was he still grieving for her, and he thought getting involved with someone else was like being unfaithful to her memory?

But he had a mistress, she reminded herself again. Even as she thought it, her face tautened. She hated the thought of some other woman in Tony’s arms, being held the way he held her when he’d killed the snake. That had been real hunger, mutual hunger, just before Cole and Ben had run up to them.

It hadn’t lasted, that feeling. He was talking to Heather about the statuette, showing it to her and laughing with delight.

“It’s very pretty,” Heather told Maddie. “Like the baby...!” She held out her arms and Maddie put Penny in them.

Heather cooed into the little face watching hers with such intensity. She kissed the little forehead.

“Do they always look at you like that?” Tony wondered as he looked at the baby over Heather’s shoulder. “I mean, it’s like she understands everything she hears!”

“Who knows?” Heather asked. She turned and handed the baby to Tony, showing him how to hold her so that her little head was supported. He chuckled, reminding her that his goddaughter down in Jacobsville was about the same age. He was getting used to holding babies.

It was like a scene out of a movie. Big, husky Tony holding the tiny little girl, his whole face glowing with delight, his eyes luminous as he looked down at her and talked to her. And she laughed up at him, little gurgles of happiness bubbling up and escaping her tiny body.

“Look at that!” Tony said, enthralled.

Nobody noticed Maddie, with a smartphone, taking pictures of the two of them. Later, one would find its way into Odalie’s smartphone.

“I always wanted kids,” Tony said as he reluctantly handed the baby back to Heather. “But we couldn’t have them.”

“You’re still young,” Heather pointed out with a grin.

“Not so very,” he replied solemnly and with a wistful smile. He glanced at Maddie. “She’s a beauty,” he told her, and grinned at Cort, who joined them. “You two did good.”

“She did most of the work,” Cort said with dry humor, and they all laughed.

“You really love kids, don’t you?” Heather asked Tony as they all went to the table, where places were set with plates and napkins, utensils and glasses as the cowboys started dishing up food.

“I do,” he replied. “It was one of our greatest sorrows that we couldn’t have any. My wife had cancer. It took her a long time to die.” His face hardened. “I was suicidal right after it happened. We were both in our early twenties. I thought we’d have years and years together.”

She turned to him. “You can’t live in yesterday.”

He drew in a breath and smiled down at her. “I keep hearing that.”

“On a different note, thank you for saving my daughter’s life,” she replied solemnly. “We have to deal with those stupid rattlesnakes every single year. There’s no way to get them all.”

“God made butterflies and he made rattlesnakes.” He shrugged. “We make do.”

She smiled. “Yes.”

He glanced at Odalie, who was talking to the leader of the local band that was playing while the ranch hands and their families stood around and listened. “She gets along with everybody, doesn’t she?”

“Most people. She wasn’t always like this. She’s changed a lot in the past two or three years. Good changes.”

“Growing up hurts,” he said from a wealth of bad memories.

“I know you have cousins,” she said gently. “But nobody closer?”

He shrugged. “Friends, mostly, except for Connie and her family in Jersey.” He laughed. “She loved your daughter at first glance. And she doesn’t like most people.” He looked down at her. “My background is rough. So is Connie’s. I didn’t really have the measure of your daughter at first. She’s classy. So... I sort of kept my people away from her.”