Page 66 of Cowboy and the Convict

Falling into his truck, he turned over the engine and set the wiper blades on high, slinging the morning snowfall away as he backed out of the driveway, kicking himself for not finishing the task of clearing out the garage like Janie told him he should.

It would be the first thing he did once all this was straightened out.

No. That was wrong.

It would be the second thing he did.

The first thing he was going to do was buy a fucking ring.

25

Janie

“ARE YOU REALLY sure you want to do this?” Mariah sat next to her on the floor of the bedroom, helping pack the clothes from her dresser into a moving box. “I know Moss Creek is small, but it’s not that small. You’ve been able to avoid him for almost three weeks. I bet you could avoid him forever if you really wanted to.”

She didn’t want to avoid Devon. Quite the opposite actually. It was a concentrated effort on her part not to run right back to him. To bury her face in his chest and take a deep inhale of that damn scent she’d never been able to fully identify.

But it would be a mistake.

Not for her—Devon was the best thing that had ever happened to her. It would be a mistake for him. For his daughters.

“I have to go.” She folded up a stack of the long-sleeved T-shirts she used to wear at The Baking Rack. “It’ll be easier.” She forced on a smile so her friend wouldn’t worry. “And I’ll be able to pay my shit off in record time.”

Mariah frowned, looking even more worried than she did before. “You don’t think it’s a little suspicious that they’re paying that much for a private chef?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never seen anyone offer that much.”

“Different parts of the country have different pay scales.” Janie repeated the same explanation she’d offered Dianna when she brought up the shockingly high salary. “Things are way more expensive in some places. Food. Gas. Housing—”

“That’s another thing.” Mariah wasn’t helping pack at all now. She was just back to trying to talk her out of this move. “Are you sure you want to commit to living on-site? These people could be serial killers. Or worse.” Her eyes widened. “They might not take their shoes off at the door.”

“If they can afford a private chef, I’m sure they also spring for a housekeeper.” She finished adding the shirts to the box Mariah was supposed to be working on and stood, folding in the top flaps before writing across one corner with the Sharpie in her pocket. “And if not, then I’ll just Bird Box my way around the place.” She could survive a year. That’s all it would take to pay off everything she owed. The school loans. The credit cards. The medical bills.

It was the same goal she came to Moss Creek to achieve. Shocker—she’d failed. At least this time it was for a good reason.

One she would never regret.

Mariah’s sour expression lingered. “I don’t like this. At all.”

Janie scooted closer to her friend, wrapping one arm around the younger woman’s shoulders. “I can’t stay here. You know that.”

Mariah was the only person who came close to knowing the full story of what happened. She’d told her friend just enough for Mariah to understand her decision to find a new job in a new state, but kept a lot of what went on between her and Devon close. Something she could hold close now that she’d lost the heart and soul she’d clung to for so long.

Things might not have gone the way she wanted, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t finally found what she was looking for. She had. And then she’d learned the hard way that you can never really escape your mistakes. No matter how hard you try.

And she’d made a shit ton of them.

But loving Devon—and his daughters—with her whole heart and soul would never be one of them.

Neither would leaving them.

“Ugh.” Mariah’s head fell back. “I hate this.” She sniffed. “Who am I gonna talk to in the mornings?” She rolled her face Janie’s way. “And don’t say Maryann. That woman has the best ‘I’m disappointed in you’ face, and if she knew half the shit I did, she’d never stop giving it to me.”

She squeezed Mariah tighter. “You are under thirty with a career, great tits, and you’ve never been arrested.” She rested her head against Mariah’s. “You are fucking killing it.” She straightened, crouching down to collect the box. “And what does she expect? You’re a single, childless woman. You should be out having the time of your life.”

A shadow of something flickered across Mariah’s face before being replaced by a smile. “Who am I going to have the time of my life with now that you’re not going to be here to be my wingwoman?” She let out another groan as she stood, lifting one of the flattened boxes off the stack. “I’m going to end up the new babysitter for the Bridge Bitches, aren’t I?”

“I think you’re in the clear. I heard Gertrude talking about how sweet Evelyn Haynes’ new assistant was the other day when she came into The Baking Rack to pick up a cake.” The smile the memory brought on slipped when she remembered that would be the last bit of gossip she heard here.

“I kinda feel bad for her. She probably has no idea what she’s getting into.” Mariah expanded the box and started sticking packing tape along the seams. “Not bad enough to drive the old birds around myself, though.”

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