Page 64 of The Cowboy Who Came Home

“Look at that staircase,” he said, his feet rooted to the ground.

In front of her, a staircase stood right in the middle of the room, paving the way to the second floor. A gorgeous hardwood covered the floor and led into a room off the left-hand side and the right.

“This feels like a palace,” she said. “Not a farmhouse.” She liked it, but she didn’t at the same time. It didn’t feel like a place to make a home, to raise children, and to live off the land in the Texas Panhandle.

It felt fancy, when Finn wasn’t very fancy.

The room on the left held plenty of built-in bookcases which held binders and books of all shapes and sizes, as well as a grand piano. Comfy couches lined the far wall, and a couple of guitars stood in stands.

The living room veered to the right, and it led back into the second half of the farmhouse, which held the kitchen, a big dining room, and a full bath. The master suite sat behind the library-slash-music-room, and Finn whistled as he saw the closet. “Momma would love this.” He grinned, but he had a glazed look in his eye.

Edith felt the same glazy-ness inside herself. The back porch made her go, “Whoa. I love this,” because it faced north and showed a nice view of the hills. It would be completely private here, with the town to the south and no neighbors. She could walk out her back door and never see another living soul.

Her she-shed would fit here, just to the left there, and a bright green barn sat at the edge of the lawn. “What is with the green here?” she asked, recoiling from the barn. “A barn should never be that color, Finn.” She shook her head. “Never.”

“Again, a paint color is something easy to fix.”

“It’s work,” Edith said.

“That it is.” He continued to tour the rest of the property, and back in his truck, he showed her the real estate listing that showed the borders of the land and where the river ran through it for only five hundred yards before it forked back east again. “So that’s it.” He looked back up to the farmhouse here at Thompson Wash.

Edith took his phone from him and set it in the cupholder. “What do you think?”

Finn shook his head and started the truck. “I don’t know.” He backed out and turned to head to the highway.

Edith said nothing, because he hadn’t asked what she thought, and she suspected that he already knew this place wasn’t for him. She let him be quiet as he drove back to her house, and when he parked there, Edith turned toward him fully.

“Thank you for today, Finn.” She smiled at him, her nerves vibrating strangely at her. “For helping at the library. For lunch. For including me at Thompson Wash.” She reached over and slid her hand along the side of his face. “What’s wrong?”

He turned to look at her, his hand covering hers. “Nothing.” He blinked and seemed to come back to himself. “Nothing. Sorry. So many thoughts.”

“Is one of them about kissing me?” she asked.

Finn’s smile slowly crept across his face, and it held so much light and joy and happiness. “Well, one is now.” He leaned forward and kissed her, and Edith sure did love the touch of this man. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked. “Want me to come pick you up for church?”

“Oh, you want to stir the church gossip circles into a frenzy?”

“Yeah,” he whispered against her lips. “That’s what I want to do.”

Edith kissed him again, enjoying the slow, steady way she felt in love with him with every stroke of his mouth against hers. He finally pulled away, and she opened her eyes to look at him. He looked back, but neither of them said anything.

Finn gave her half a smile and ducked his head, the brim of his cowboy hat touching her eyebrow. “I’ll help you with the boxes.” He twisted away and got out of the truck, and Edith turned to do the same.

She collected her things from the backseat while he stacked her two remaining boxes and took them around the house to the she-shed. She followed him and put her bag on her desk. He straightened, and the moment intensified between them.

“I thought of my she-shed there,” she blurted out. “At Thompson Wash, in the backyard. There was room for it.”

“Yes,” he said. “There was.”

Edith took the few steps toward him and ran her hands up his chest. “Did you picture it there?”

“I did,” he whispered.

“So you’ll take me to see all the places you’re considering?” she asked. “Because it seems like maybe we’re picturing a future together somewhere around here, and I want to be able to comment on the location of my shed.”

“Edith, sweetheart, I am only considering the location of your shed when I look at ranches.” He took her into his arms, the best words in the world now out between them. Love touched her heart when it hadn’t in such a long, long time, and instead of crying about it, this time, Edith smiled and leaned into the strength of Finn’s embrace.

She’d been living since Levi’s death, but she hadn’t been dreaming. She hadn’t been improving. She hadn’t been growing.

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