Page 83 of The Cowboy Who Looked Again

She wore a pair of long jeans in the lightest color denim came in and could still be called blue. A white—snowy white—pair of sneakers sat on her feet, and she wore a purple blouse that made her eyes seem violet when she looked at him too.

Henry ducked his head and started down the hot bar. The grocery store homemade everything here in-house, and he loved their beef short ribs, the brisket, and the barbecue chicken tenders. He’d only gotten one protein before the soft, feminine scent of Angel met his nose.

She moved to his side, her small container closed over the things she’d gotten for her mother. “Listen, could you talk to James for me?”

“Sure,” Henry said. “Apprentices in January will satisfy your daddy?”

“Should,” she said. “And if James needs to place people, Daddy won’t turn them away.”

“And he won’t have to pay them,” Henry said.

“He pays his apprentices,” Angel said. “It’s not a huge amount, because they live for free. But they have to eat, don’t they?”

“Yeah, farriers have to eat,” Henry agreed.

“Are you taking dinner to your dorm?” she asked.

He paused in adding the baked beans to his container. “No, but thanks for suggesting I’m a hog.” He cut her a grin and moved down to the scalloped potatoes. Since he’d never met a potato he didn’t like, he took some of those. Only a single spoonful though, because he’d yet to get to the brisket and sticky chicken fingers.

“I wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort,” Angel said.

Henry chuckled and nodded good-naturedly. “Should I have James contact you or your daddy for the apprenticeship placements?”

“Daddy,” she said. “And it would be best if he made it sound like he didn’t have anywhere else to send them. Then Daddy won’t be able to say no.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Henry promised. “But Angel, I won’t lie to him about it.”

“Of course not,” she said.

He took enough brisket to feed the men living on the third floor with him, but Angel didn’t comment on it. “Got myself in a spot of trouble when not telling the truth,” he said. “Now, I don’t do that anymore. Makes life easier.”

“I agree,” she murmured.

“Angel,” another man said, and she spun away from Henry. Another cowboy stood there—not her brother or her father—and she squealed in a way that would’ve made Henry’s heart rejoice had she been prancing over to him and throwing her arms around his neck while he chuckled.

As it was, sharp jealousy tore through him as he studiously moved down the buffet to the poultry. He took his barbecue chicken tenders and added a slice of smoked turkey for good measure. He couldn’t cook in his dorm, but he and his roommate did have a half-sized fridge and a microwave.

So he’d eat well in the morning too and not have to think about food again until lunchtime tomorrow. As Angel and her boyfriend walked away hand-in-hand, Henry sure wished he could stop thinking about her by lunchtime tomorrow.

“Or right now,” he said darkly, not even the delicious food in front of him enough to distract him from watching the woman who sparked something deep inside him disappear around the corner with another man.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Dawson entered the diner, his thoughts only on pancakes and bacon. He should be sitting in a pew with his brothers and parents, but the call of something good to eat had gotten the better of him.

Unfortunately, a lot of other people had the same idea he had, and the diner didn’t have a spare table or seat anywhere.

“Just you, Dawson?” Sandy asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“Might be a bit,” she said. “We’ve got some bigger parties and couples.” She looked at her list and wrote his name down. Then she grabbed a couple of menus and called someone’s name.

Dawson did everything as a single, and he’d never been overlooked because he wasn’t part of a party or a couple. But looking around, he definitely felt out of place and like he wouldn’t get a table until Sandy had served everyone else.

His first thought was to go somewhere else, but he edged against the wall and waited. He busied himself with his phone, only looking up when names got called. Two tables, then three, and then Sandy called, “Caroline.”

Dawson found the blonde easily enough as she stepped around another cowboy. He wasn’t sure if his increased pulse was because of her beauty or because he’d never filed any paperwork, and the moment she saw him, she’d start lecturing. He certainly didn’t need a public dressing-down in the local diner, in front of people he knew.

---