aside.
“Oh, I have this hapless little angel character. She can’t do the things grown up angels can. She’s too sweet and kind for her own good, always wanting to help but somehow making things messy before getting it right.”
“I bet I know her, at least if there isn’t more than one.” Pain hit Drake between the eyes at the memory. He shook it off. “Katrina, right?” He thought of the tales of the goofy baby angel he’d read to Conall’s children in his friend’s place. The boys had gained comfort from the books even though Drake didn’t accept the ideas he read about. “My friend’s kids like the angel getting into trouble.”
“Katrina does plenty of that.” Her smile spread and her eyes sparkled.
She appeared inordinately pleased that he knew her work. Pleasure spread through him, lifting his own spirits. He smiled and took another bite, then let the dark confection melt in his mouth. A sigh of pure ecstasy escaped from his body.
“ This is great, wonderful--words fail.” He shrugged at his inability to describe the flavor and texture of her creation.
Luisa smiled, her cheeks turning pink at his praise. “I call it Chocolate Sinsation--with an ‘i’.”
“Then I guess it’s hellacious rather than heavenly.”
She chuckled at his joke, the warm sound coming from deep in her chest.
Drake knew laughing was not something she did often, in spite of the soft smile that normally curved her lips. He couldn’t imagine why he thought that. Maybe his cop instincts were surfacing.
Drake thought of the pub, and of the noise, laughter, and friends talking over a cold round. She had to be lonely way out here. He hadn’t seen anyone come in since he’d arrived. Luisa didn’t fit his image of a recluse, so what kept her tied so tightly to her home and horses? Was she hiding from personal problems too? If she were, he’d like to help her.
That surprised him. Unexpected longing hit him, longing for answers, for closeness, for a loving relationship. Intuition told him both he and Luisa needed healing. But what could heal wounded hearts?
Whatever it was about this woman, Drake realized this near-stranger was someone he’d like to know better.
“So tell me--I take it you grew up here?”
“That’s right. I helped my dad run cattle.”
“Really? What did you do?”
“Oh, the usual stuff. Nothing glamorous like on television. It was all hot, dirty work, but I loved it.” Another chuckle escaped.
“What?” he asked, trying to figure out what was funny about a job that sounded boring, sweaty, and downright gritty to him.
“I remember one day, I was helping Dad bring in the cows and calves to separate for market. One of the old rangy ones got ticked off with the whole thing and chased me.”
“Sounds dangerous.” Anger flashed through his body. Conall would never have risked any of his children in such a way. How could Luisa’s parents allow it? “How old were you?”
“I was eight that summer.” She laughed, a soft, joyful sound. “That wicked witch chased me around the barn, and I had to dive into the stock tank, clothes, boots, and all, to get away from her. Dad teased me for days about really wanting to go swimming.”
The laugh lines around her eyes crinkled. She obviously thought that had been a great adventure. “Weren’t you frightened?” Drake asked.
“At the time I was, but Dad was right. I had a ball being in the stock tank, not to mention the attention I got from the hands who came to help.” She shook her head. “I thought I was pretty special that day.”
“What else did you do?”
“You don’t want to get me started. I could go on all evening.”
Genuine interest pushed him. “That’s okay. Give. Just one more.”
She shook her head and rose, carrying her plate to the sink. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“Please?” His voice sounded warm, pleading almost. Drake frowned. What was the matter with him? He should keep his
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