Now that’s a good sign.
“I don’t really know where Buck Cosgrove is. I presume he’s still in Waco. He left us when Libby was nine. Right after she was diagnosed with leukemia.”
Brandon had never been so instantly furious in his life. He saw the flash in Trace’s eyes and knew his best friend felt the same.
“Now I’m sorry,” Trace said. “How is Libby doing now?”
“Good.” Rachel exhaled deeply, as if she too had become angered in that moment and had consciously rid herself of that feeling. “She’s doing really good. She’s officially one year cancer-free. Her hair’s mostly grown back, but not quite to the length it was before she got sick.” Rachel’s smile was one of the most beautiful he’d ever seen.
“Thank God for that,” Brandon said. Now he knew what Grandma Kate had meant about the tough row the Cosgrove women had been hoeing for the last few years.
“Thank you. She’s spending the day with her best friend, Bonnie Dorchester. They’d had a sleepover together last night at our place. Since we moved to Lusty, those girls have been inseparable.”
Brandon nodded. “I know the Dorchesters,” he said. “Gord is a Jessop by birth, and therefore a cousin by marriage. Bonnie had a tough go of it when she was younger. It’s no secret, so you probably know that Clay’s first wife, Victoria, died suddenly when Bonnie was about nine, I think. I imagine that having hardship and loss at a young age in common makes for a tight bond between the girls.”
The look on Rachel’s face told him his insight surprised her. He didn’t take it personally, because he understood that people, male or female, only know what they know.
“I’m certain that over the past few years you’ve devoted yourself completely to taking care of your daughter,” Trace said.
“Well, of course. It’s what moms do.”
“Well,” Trace said, “it’s what the best moms do. I’ve no doubt you fall into that category.”
“She’s at the center of my world,” Rachel said. “All I wanted was for her to get better, to be a normal little girl, like all the little girls who used to be her friends.”
“Of course, you did. And your devotion to her paid off and your prayers were answered.” Bandon picked up her hand. If she’d resisted, he would have released her. But she didn’t. So he held her hand gently, warmly, and used his thumb to stroke along her knuckles.
“Thank you. Yes, my prayers for Libby were answered.”
“I have two personal questions for you, Rachel. The first is, while you were spending every day taking care of Libby, who was taking care of you?”
He saw the flash of anger, there and gone in a heartbeat. She tugged on her hand, and he held on—and she relented. She looked down at the menu. He decided to let her do that, find that tiny escape from them. This time.
“No one. I never would have chosen to be a single mother. But I was, so I did what had to be done, and I did it with as peaceful a heart as I could manage.”
He didn’t like that she’d interpreted his question as some sort of a slap against her. It was a sign that she’d been battered badly if she expected an attack from men she didn’t even know. “Now for my second personal question.”
He waited until, curious with his silence, she met his gaze. “Are you as attracted to us as we are to you?”
“I…” It wasn’t a lie he saw in her eyes but caution. Her cheeks turned a pretty pink color, her heart rate increased, and she licked her lips. He wondered if she would lie to them, and really wouldn’t have held it against her if she did. All her personal experience had likely shown her was that men were not to be trusted. He’d been stationed at bases all over the world, and he wasn’t blind. A lot of men weren’t to be trusted where women’s emotions were concerned.
Hell, not even my own father was faithful to my mother.
She inhaled deeply. “I was going to lie to you, but I can’t. I am attracted to the both of you. I’m wondering if anyone has ever had the water checked hereabouts.”
Brandon chuckled. Her vulnerability had withdrawn, and here was the sense of humor, the forthrightness he’d sensed in her.
“I can remember hearing of other people wondering that very same thing,” Brandon said. “Thank you for being honest with us. How about this? Let’s sit, have lunch, and get to know each other a little. I have to go report to Goodfellow tomorrow morning, but I’ll be back home early Friday evening. How late do you work this Friday?”
“Until closing, which is eight-thirty in the winter.”
“We’ll come for a late supper, then, about seven or so. And you can tell us if you’d be interested in our really getting to know each other better. If you’d be willing to explore this attraction you feel for us—and that we, most definitely, feel for you.”
Rachel took a long moment, looking from him to Trace, and Brandon felt his gut begin to twist. Maybe they’d made a mistake, choosing this straight-up approach. But he really didn’t think so. They weren’t boys playing games. They were men who knew what they wanted.
They wanted a real, honest-to-God relationship with Rachel Cosgrove. That included her daughter, and they would both let her know on Friday that they intended just that.
Then Rachel sighed. “That sounds good. Lunch and getting to know each other today and a decision on Friday.”
“Thank you, Rachel,” Trace said. “I mean that.”
“There is just one more thing,” Brandon said.
“And that would be?”
Now, that was a promising sign, too. She had an almost playful look in her eyes, not the distrust he might have expected.
“Today’s agenda. Lunch, getting to know each other…and we’ll each kiss you when we escort you out
