The word hadn’t lost any magic. Danielle laughed so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. When she finally straightened, her angelic face was beet red.
“Don’t say that again.” She pointed a finger at Hale’s face. “And don’t smile.”
“That’s hard to do with you in hysterics over there.”
She backed up to the door, grinning at the mud perched like a sodden ski cap on top of Cocoa’s head. “I’ll get some clothes for you and a towel for your brave dog.”
After she disappeared into the house, Drew shook his head. “Wow. I’ve never seen her like that.”
“You’re kidding, right?” When Hale looked down at the boys, he could tell by their baffled expressions they were serious.
“She doesn’t laugh much,” Luke observed, wiping his nose. “A lot of times, she cries.”
“Well, that makes sense.” Hale admitted, his levity disappearing with an abrupt snap. “She must miss your dad.”
“I guess.” Luke shrugged. “But she was sad before he died, too.”
Hale’s spine stiffened. “She was?”
“Yeah. Don’t follow her into the cornfield. That’s where she goes to cry.” Luke tugged on Drew’s sleeve and the boys raced to the swing set.
Hale squinted at the field beyond the barn, wondering what made her cry while Mark was still alive.
When he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, he turned to find her standing behind him. She offered him clean clothes and an apologetic smile.
“If you want to leave your dirty clothes here on the deck, I’ll wash them right away so they aren’t ruined.” Her gaze dipped to his muddy jeans. “I’m sorry for laughing at your misfortune.”
He wanted to tell her he’d much rather see her laugh than cry, but he couldn’t get the words past the knot of emotion caught in his chest. She didn’t seem to mind the silence.
When she looked upward, her eyes glittered with gratitude.
She smiled. “Thanks. I needed that laugh.”
Hale kissed her hard on the mouth and walked away before he told her how much he needed
her
.
Chapter Six
Once June rolled around, Danielle often felt left out during the evenings. Her boys were glued to Hale’s side the moment he walked into the house. She lost count of the times she caught them clustered around him, reading books, playing cards, or just horsing around.
On this particular night, Hale and the boys were sprawled on the couch watching a baseball game. The volume was turned up loud enough for Hale to hear, which made getting any work done in her office difficult. Besides, she was tired of feeling like an outsider, so she turned off her computer and headed into the living room.
Feeling shy, she stopped by the couch and slid her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “Think there might be room for me, too?”
“Yeah.” Hale took his stocking feet off the coffee table and shifted, draping his arm along the back of the couch.
His hungry gaze dropped to the open collar of her blue blouse. Those keen looks had grown more frequent since he kissed her on the mouth a week ago. The exposed skin at the vee of her neckline tingled when Hale’s gaze lingered there.
Drew scooted off the couch and lay on the carpet. “Now there’s more room. You can sit where I was, Mom.”
“Thanks.” She settled beside Hale and noticed he didn’t move his leg out of the way when her knee bumped his. A tingle of excitement trickled up her thigh when Hale’s solid one rested against hers.
For the rest of the first inning and the entire second inning, they sat with their legs touching. His arm stayed along the back of the couch, loosely circling her shoulders. Every once in a while, she felt him touch her hair.
When a series of commercials flickered across the TV screen, Hale pulled away and rubbed the back of his head. “Do you have any pain reliever, Danielle?”
“Yes.” She studied the sapphire flecks in his sky blue eyes and noticed the outer rim of his irises had a gray tint, just like her sons’ eyes looked whenever they started to get sick. “Is something wrong?”
“Just a headache,” he confessed.
Her stomach twisted with concern. “I’ll get you some medicine.”
Drew looked at Hale. “Can you show me how to throw a slider? Do I use two fingers, or three?”
Danielle stood, chagrined her son was unaware of his stepfather’s discomfort. “Not now, Drew. It’s time for bed.”
“But the third inning just started.”
“You have school tomorrow,” Hale responded, turning off the TV. “We want you to get a good night’s sleep.”
Drew got up, but a streak of stubbornness filtered across his young face. “I can’t wait until I’m big. Then I can go to bed when I want to.”
“If it’s any consolation, I won’t stay up much longer. The minute your mother says she’s going to bed, I’m following her.” Hale leaned over to give Drew’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. “G’night, buddy.”
Danielle noticed how Drew’s frown eased the moment Hale touched his hand. Warmth unfolded inside her. Hale always backed up her parenting decisions, but his gentleness made her boys feel like their complaints were understood.
Drew looked at her and nodded, signaling his willingness to obey her request.
Grateful for having such sweet boys, Danielle ran her fingers through Drew’s soft blond hair.
He relaxed and smiled at her.
Luke put his arm around Hale’s shoulders in a display of easy camaraderie. “I hope your headache feels better. Dad used to get headaches in the morning. He called them hangovers. He said the best thing we could do was to stay out of his way.”
Hale frowned and slid his index finger along the back of his left ear, adjusting the volume on his hearing aid. “Did he have many hangovers?”
“Yes, but we got used to them after a while.” Luke’s small hand patted Hale’s back. “You don’t seem as grumpy as Dad used to get, but we’ll leave you alone if you want. Are you having a hangover?”
“No. I’m just a little worn out. Don’t stay out of my way. I feel a lot better when I’m with you boys and your Mom.”
Luke’s face brightened. “Okay. I’ll check on you tomorrow before school. Mom can take care of you tonight.”
“I’d like that.”
“Come on, boys. Let’s give Hale a chance to rest.” Danielle corralled her sons and followed them upstairs. When she looked over her shoulder at Hale, he was staring at the family portrait propped on the fireplace mantel, looking into his brother’s eyes as though he no longer recognized him.
A few minutes later when she returned to the living room, Hale had taken off his hearing aid so he could rub his ear. She touched his shoulder just like she used to do the summer they first met, and he looked up. Despite his obvious pain, his cool eyes flickered with warmth when he saw her standing close.
“This’ll help.” She offered him a glass of milk and two tablets.
“Thanks.” He popped the pills in this mouth and took a long drink.
Danielle sat beside him, watching him put the hearing aid back on. “That looks smaller than the one you used to wear.”
“It is. I found a good doctor in Oklahoma who updated my device. I can hear better now, but sometimes my ear hurts if I wear it for too long.”
“Do you get headaches often?”
“Once in a while.” He looked down at the frosty glass in his hands. “I’m surprised Drew got so mad about going to bed. He never complains about that.”
“He’s ready for summer vacation. Once school finishes, I’ll let him stay up a bit longer.”
“When you put your hands through his hair, he seemed to relax.” Hale shot her a curious glance. “Would you do that for me?”
An arc of surprise made her pulse ricochet. Up until now, he’d never asked for a thing. Was he looking for comfort from his pain, or trying to find out if she was willing to bestow more than just medicine?
Awash with a sudden spike of uncertainty, she gazed at him.
The muscles along his jaw flexed and he broke eye contact, placing the half empty milk glass on the coffee table before reaching down to shape his palm along Cocoa’s side. The dozing dog acknowledged the touch with a faint snore.
Poor comfort for a man whose head probably felt like a hammer pounded against his temple. Danielle pulled his arm from the oblivious canine. “She’s not much good to you while she’s asleep. Let me try.”
With a casual shrug, he braced his forearms on his thighs. “Forget about it.”
“Shh.” She touched the thick growth of blond hair cropped close to his temple, threading her fingertips through the coarse strands along the side of his head.
Hale sucked in his breath and jerked his gaze down at the floor.
She repeated the caress, her cool fingertips tingling from the warmth of his scalp. Now that she was touching him, she didn’t want to stop. He felt good
strong and warm and male
but she wasn’t sure he liked what she was doing.
His broad shoulders were rigid, his hands fisted, and his gaze averted.
Compelled to do something for him in return for all he did for her, she curved her fingers along the shape of his head, pulling her hand through his short hair slow enough to watch every straight sand-colored strand flip back into position.
A distinct shudder passed through him.
“Here, turn this way a little bit.” She cupped his jaw, turning his face so she could slide both hands into his hair and massage his scalp.
A thick grunt came out of his throat.
“No wonder you’ve got a headache,” she murmured. “You got up at the crack of dawn and worked the fields for six straight hours while I was on campus. When I came home, you washed my car and cut the grass. Somehow, you managed to straighten the mailbox before devoting the rest of the day to fixing the grain truck.”
“How’d you know I worked on the truck?” he mumbled.
She touched the thin red scrape along his forearm. “I figure you got this from reaching under a metal hood.”
“Smart.”
His simple praise made her blush with pleasure. Taking her hands out of his hair, she poked his shoulder. “Lie down.”
“Huh?”
“Stretch out on the couch and put your head on my lap.” She scooted back and patted her thigh.
He did as she asked and looked up. “I’ll buy more chocolate cookies if you keep rubbing my aching head.”
She pretended to need a bribe to keep touching him. “Those cookies sure are good.”
“I’ll get as many as you want.”
“That sounds a little steep.” She stroked his temple. “I think you’re charging yourself too much.”
“Totally worth it.” He closed his eyes in blissful surrender.
“You don’t have to get me anything,” she admitted as the clean fragrance of his shampoo wafted up to her nose. Tonight, he’d showered right before supper so he wouldn’t track dirt through the house, which was one of the many thoughtful things he did on a daily basis. She threaded her fingers through his hair and realized he’d gotten blonder after spending so much time in the sun. The thick strands felt vastly different than her sons’ baby soft hair.
He let out a long sigh as she caressed every inch of his head, tickling her fingers along the rims of his ears until she spotted a rise of gooseflesh along the side of his neck.
Danielle was tempted to look beneath his green t-shirt to see how far the shivers went, but she resisted the urge to pull off his shirt. The poor man had a headache, after all.
Devoting her energies to caressing his head, she smiled when his solid hands unfurled against his jeans and his bare feet hung limp over the edge of the couch. By the relaxed look of him, someone could pinch him right now and he wouldn’t flinch.
Something soft flopped against Danielle’s bare foot. She peered over the edge of the couch and realized Cocoa’s velvety ear had unfurled across her toes.
The lab was on the floor, lying on her back just like her master.
“Your dog looks as tired as you do,” she observed.
“Mm hmm.”
“You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, do you?” Worried, Danielle laid her hand across his forehead to check for fever. He felt warm. Worry pinched her stomach. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” He pointed to his hearing aid. “Mind if I take this off? I won’t be able to hear if I do.”
“Go ahead.”
Putting the device in the case he always kept in his pocket, Hale turned on his side and slid one of his hands under Danielle’s thigh using her leg as a pillow.
She trailed her fingers down the base of his neck. His skin was a warm nutty color from all the hours he spent outside. Grateful for how hard he worked to make this farm come alive, she rubbed his shoulder.
His low voice vibrated deep in his chest. “That feels great. Don’t stop.”
“You deserve a massage. No one else works harder than you.”
He didn’t hear her. Danielle bit her lip in regret, embarrassed she forgot he was deaf. He compensated for his disability so well, she often forgot he was profoundly deaf in his right ear.
Now that he was sidelined by fatigue, his deafness became more self-evident and he missed the conversational cues he normally caught. She tried to think of a time when she’d witnessed him wallow in self-pity and came up with none.
Transferring her attention to his remarkable back, she caressed the strong contours from his shoulders to his waist. She could tell Hale liked what she did, because he shifted to give her better access. She traced circular designs down his spine toward the ribbon of skin exposed near the waistband of his jeans.