Page 65 of Cowboy and the Convict

And he had been. He’d gone and been as fucking wrong as it could get. The way Janie felt for him was very real. Just as real as the way she felt for his girls. That’s why she was willing to walk away from something so good.

Something so right.

“We should go talk to her.” Riley was already turning toward the door. “She’s still at The Baking Rack, right?”

Devon checked his watch. “She should be there another half hour.” He practically ran out of the barn and around the treeline, needing to get to her as fast as he could so he could try to explain.

Try to apologize.

Try to make her understand she was exactly the kind of person who should be influencing his daughters, regardless of what she thought.

“Olivia. Gwen.” Riley’s voice echoed through the house as he fished his keys from their hook. “We’ve gotta go.”

“What?” Gwen poked her head around the corner of the upstairs hall. “Where are we going?”

“To get Janie.” Riley was at his side. She smiled wide. “Dad’s gonna propose to her.”

His head snapped toward his oldest daughter. “What?”

Gwen asked the same question at the same time. “What?”

Riley’s brows pinched. “You weren’t going to?”

“I don’t have a ring.” He patted his pockets like one would magically appear.

“That’s not a no.” Riley gave him a grin.

It wasn’t, was it. “And I’m not sure you girls should go. Janie can be kind of—”

“Reactive?” Riley lifted her brows. “It’s not great that you acknowledge that but still let her run out of here without asking any questions, you know that right?”

He stared at her for a second, a little taken aback. “Are you lecturing me?”

She snorted. “Someone needs to.” Her retort felt so familiar. So close to the many that were slung his way by the curly headed woman he couldn’t live without.

He started to laugh, head tipping back. How in the hell could Janie think she was anything but the best kind of influence on his girls? “Fair enough.” He turned to the stairs. “You girls are staying here.”

Good influence or not, this was between him and Janie. If she wanted to scream at him, he didn’t want her holding back because his daughters were playing peanut gallery.

As he reached for the door, his three daughters arguing his decision behind him, the doorbell rang. Maybe—

“This place is a tundra.” Sharon strode in, shaking icy flakes off her heavy coat. “It’s not even Christmas and there’s already a foot of snow on the ground.”

“I was just about to walk out the door.” He was itching to get on the road and his mother-in-law’s unexpected visit—

His brow creased. “What are you doing back in town?”

She turned to him, face a mask of confusion. “Well to put the trailer on the market, of course.” She smoothed down her brown bob, giving him a wink. “I can’t say I wasn’t hoping Janie would buy the place off me, but I guess I won’t be too sour since she makes you so happy.” Her eyes traveled around the main floor. “Where is she? Did you two get everything moved out or should I wait another day to have the realtor come over?”

He stared at her a beat as what she was saying sank in. And once it did, his heart stopped. “I’ve got to go.” He turned and raced out the door without looking back, hoping to catch Janie before she did something stupid.

Like leave Moss Creek.

He needed to fix what he’d fucked up. Needed to prove he was better than he used to be. Because it was never just Maggie’s fault that things went the way they did. In all the years they were together he’d never pushed her to open up to him. Never dug in his heels when he thought things were off. If she said she was fine, he believed her. Even when all the signs pointed a different direction.

Just like he did with Janie. And with Janie he hadn’t just believed she was telling him the full scope of her feelings. He expected it. Thought it would keep him from making the same mistake he’d made before.

Wrong.

---