Page 11 of The Cowboy Who Came Home

“Maybe I’ll ask Finn how he does it,” Alex said dryly. “But seriously, Edee, don’t torture the man for any longer than you already have.” He got to his feet when both collies perked up and looked toward the front door.

The dachshunds started barking and even Gumbo went into meow-mode, which meant someone had come to Coyote Pass. “Gramps and Grams are here,” he said. “Better text fast.” He left to go welcome their grandparents to the ranch, and Edith stared at her phone.

Then she thumbed out a quick text and sent it, praying with all she had that she knew what in the world she was doing.

Chapter Four

Finn re-read Edith’s text a half-breath before Momma said, “It’s time to start. Squire, it’s time to start! Let’s pray.”

He’d answered her a couple of days ago, and they’d exchanged a few texts. Several. Fine, a lot of texts. But he always went back to that first one for some reason, trying to find that thing that made him feel so good about her.

This is Edith. It sure was good to see you today. I hope you have fun at your party.

She’d texted during his first welcome home party on Wednesday. Tonight was the sibling and family party, but while it should’ve been a much smaller group, the house felt just as full. Maybe because they’d gathered across the street at Aunt Chelsea’s. Didn’t matter. There were too many eyes on Finn again.

This party would be way more fun if she were here with him, and her message burned on the back of his eyelids as he bent his head and closed his eyes to pray. It sure was good to see you today.

He hadn’t seen Edith since, though they had messaged back and forth. He’d been bold and Army-like in asking for her number, but he wasn’t sure how to bring up going out with her again. She hadn’t brought it up either, and he didn’t hear a word of the prayer as he contemplated his current situation with Edith.

“Amen,” chorused through the house, and Finn figured his grandfather had given a fine prayer worth emulating. So he repeated the “Amen,” and glanced around as conversations broke out.

“The boys got another five feet of sandbags on that curve today,” Daddy said to Uncle Pete. “Even if we get more rain this weekend, I think she’ll hold.”

“I hope so,” Pete said. “I’m downhill from that, and I’ll be wiped out first.”

“If the river floods,” Grandpa Armstrong said. “We’ll all be wiped out. We haven’t seen this much water in decades. No sirree.” He shook his head like having rain in a usually drought-ridden area was bad.

And perhaps it was. The soil didn’t know how to absorb all that water. The three rivers that ran through town had been closed for weeks, apparently, due to a heavier snowfall this winter, and then massive rainfall in the past month. Finn hadn’t been around for that, and it hadn’t rained since he’d returned to town, but the forecast definitely called for rain tonight and into tomorrow.

Everyone around town was on-edge, his daddy included. Finn had pitched in and helped fill sandbags in the past couple of days since his return, and that had only served to show him that he wasn’t so sure about life on this ranch. God threw them curveballs, and everyone here seemed used to it. They stepped right up to the plate and batted, while Finn felt like someone had put him on a merry-go-round and kept spinning it faster and faster and faster.

At the same time, he’d been spinning in Army intelligence for the past ten years. He’d hit fast balls, curve balls, sliders, all of them. Yes, Finn had been very, very good at his job in the Army, and maybe his hyperfocus on every little detail there was why he needed a break now.

He moved over to the line to get food, automatically grouping up with his siblings and Pete’s kids. He had four sons, and they’d all made it home in time for this party. Poor Libby was the only girl, and who Finn found himself behind in line.

An idea sprang into his mind. “Hey, Libs,” he said as she turned toward him. “I have, uh, a thing I want you to look at.”

Her eyebrows went up, because Libby didn’t miss much. She was too much like Momma in that regard, though the skill of seeing and knowing everything surely came in handy for them. “A thing? What kind of thing?”

Finn glanced over to where Momma stood with Aunt Chelsea. They’d been best friends in high school, and while their paths afterward had diverged, they’d still ended up here at the ranch together. He saw a parallel between him and Edith in that moment, and buoyed by that, he met his sister’s eyes again.

They were seven years apart, so he hadn’t been terribly close to Libby growing up. He’d finished high school and left for the Army before she’d even moved into junior high. He’d kept in touch with her the most over the years of his military service, mostly because she wrote to him constantly.

“I ran into Edith Baxter the day I got home,” he said under his breath.

Libby leaned forward though the line moved away from her. “What?”

Finn sighed and rolled his eyes. Grandpa Armstrong had moved to keep up with the line, but it snaked around the countertop, which meant he now stood almost right next to Finn. With Daddy and Uncle Pete.

He glanced back to Libby, then over to Mike and Henry. Libby and Henry were the exact same age, and she exchanged a look with him too. Finn honestly didn’t know them as adults all that well—none of them. He barely knew himself as an adult.

And Edith?

He didn’t know her at all, no matter if they’d sent a few dozen flirty texts in the past few days.

He shored up his courage and looked at them all. “I ran into Edith Baxter the day I came home.” He held up his phone and refused to look away. “We’ve been texting, and I would appreciate some help in asking her out.” He hit the T hard on the word “out,” Henry’s face already lit up.

The boy had been super girl-crazy as a teenager, and Momma claimed he hadn’t calmed much. That he dated someone new every other week. Whether that was true or not, Finn didn’t know. He knew Henry wasn’t married, had never been married, and his current relationship status was single.

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