Stealing The Cowboy's Heart. Debbi Rawlins

to expand and then—”

      “These cakes are something else,” Shirley cut in. “Would you mind if I borrowed this to show my daughter-in-law?”

      “Not at all,” Kylie said eagerly. “In fact, I have—” She turned and slammed right into him.

      The side of his head smacked the cabinet door.

      Her eyes widened. A gasp slipped past her lips as he caught her waist to steady himself.

      “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She touched his face, her slender fingers as gentle as butterfly wings. “Are you okay?”

      “Fine.”

      She swept the hair off his forehead. “It’s red. You’ll have a lump.”

      Her sweet breath tempted him to move closer. To taste those lush pink lips he’d been dreaming about for years. “Nah. You always said I was hardheaded.”

      “True.” She lowered her hand. And jerked back. “Your leg...did I—”

      “My leg is fine, Kylie.” He wondered if she remembered they were being watched. He looked in the cabinet and brought down a stack of flattened white cardboard. “Will this size work for the turnovers?”

      She blinked at the cardboard, then looked back at him. “Why are you here, Landon?”

      “Let’s save that discussion for later, huh?” The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass her, but he was pretty sure she’d spaced. Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he started assembling boxes. “Your customer’s waiting for her turnovers.”

      “Good heavens, don’t fret over me.”

      Comprehension widened Kylie’s eyes. After a quick glance at their eager audience, she grabbed a box out of his hands. “Eunice, I have your favorites this morning,” she said, reaching into the glass case with a pair of silver tongs. “One apple and two cherry, right?”

      “Well, no, actually I—”

      Before the woman finished speaking, Kylie taped the box shut. “Here you go. I’m sorry for the wait.”

      Looking puzzled, Eunice just nodded and laid some money on the counter.

      Mabel whispered something to her sister and they both giggled like teenagers.

      Shirley had closed the binder and was staring over her glasses at Landon. She was quite a bit younger than the other three, maybe in her midfifties. And tall enough that she nearly came eye-to-eye with him.

      A timer beeped in the kitchen. Kylie mumbled something about checking the oven and hurried into the back.

      Landon brought down a mug and poured himself some coffee. Forgetting where he’d left the crutches, he glanced around and discovered he was still in Shirley’s crosshairs.

      He took a sip, then smiled at her. “Go ahead,” he said. “I know you’ve got something to say. Let’s hear it.”

      She tucked the binder under her arm. “Kylie’s a sweet girl. She might not have lived here long, but she’s like one of our own.” Her eyes narrowed. “You got that, cowboy?”

      “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

      “Now, what did you do to your leg?”

      “Got bucked off a horse.”

      “Rodeo?”

      Landon nodded.

      “You ride professionally?”

      Again he nodded, and reached for his crutches. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. By now he was fairly certain Kylie hadn’t been following rodeo news and had no idea how high he was ranked. And that suited him fine.

      “I thought you looked familiar.”

      “My word, I thought so, too,” Mabel said, leaning closer and squinting at him.

      Her sister huffed with annoyance. “You did no such thing,” she said, clutching her white sack. “If you want a ride home you’d better be right behind me.”

      The pair bickered all the way out the door. Through the window Landon watched them stop at a big Chevy that had to be over twenty years old. “Should they be driving?”

      “No.” Shirley chuckled. “But they don’t go far and everyone knows to give them a wide berth.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to get going too. Eunice, would you like a ride home?”

      “Well...” The elderly woman peered toward the kitchen and then looked back at Landon.

      “I’m meeting my daughter in Kalispell,” Shirley said. “It’s now or never.”

      Eunice nodded. “It was nice to meet you, young man.”

      “Likewise.”

      “Remember what I told you,” Shirley said, wagging a finger as they headed for the door.

      “Yes, ma’am.” He caught her little grin as she turned her head and figured he’d passed inspection.

      They’d barely made it outside when a woman, who looked too young to have a toddler resting on her hip, paused at the window.

      He cursed under his breath. Maybe if he hung the closed sign for a—

      “Sorry about that. I had to pull out the cupcakes—” Kylie stopped in the doorway. “What did you do, chase away all my customers?”

      “I wish.” He glanced toward the window.

      She followed his gaze and grinned. “Oh, that’s Mary Sara,” she said, waving. “She won’t come in until after she goes to the bank.”

      “Don’t you have any help?”

      “I did. There was a teenager who used to come in after school, but she left for college last month. I’m pretty sure I’ll have someone else starting soon.” Kylie blew at the stray wisps of hair fluttering around her face. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from the heat of the oven.

      Though he’d like to think he had a little something to do with it.

      The way she watched him sip his coffee sent his heart rate into overdrive. When he realized she wanted to smooth her hair back without using her hands, he reached over to help her out.

      She ducked. “Why don’t you come on back with me while I make some frosting,” she said, pulling her gaze away. “At least you can sit.”

      Without waiting for a response, she whirled around and retraced her steps.

      Landon hung on to his mug and used one crutch to follow her. “So, you might be able to expand?”

      “That depends on a number of things.” Kylie sighed. “I can’t believe I brought up the bar stools. That was so dumb. I wanted to play down the whole city coffee bar thing.”

      “Better they know ahead of time, right? So they get used to the idea.”

      “I can’t afford to alienate my customers, and honestly I don’t want to hurt their feelings. Most of them are just nice, lonely old women.”

      “So, then what about two small tables?”

      “In that little corner? I’m busy in the morning and the tables would just be in the way.”

      “I meant really small, like those round tables you see in cocktail lounges. That should fit.”

      “With chairs, too?” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’m trying to preserve the rustic feel of the place to balance out the coffee bar. Keep it from looking like I’ve gotten too citified.”

      “Okay. I get it,” he said. “How about a couple of bench seats built against the wall? That wouldn’t take up much space. Make ’em right, and people won’t be camping out all day.”

      Kylie