Page 12 of Cowboy Don't Go

Shay waved goodbye as she headed out the door. She had four local businesses she did books for—a part-time job that paid fairly well and allowed her plenty of time to work as project manager at the ranch as well. She’d been doing freelance accounting for years here in Marietta. Not exactly the Wall Street finance job she’d imagined herself in someday, but it sufficed. And she got to work with people like Rachel, which was a bonus. Once the guest ranch got going though, it would turn things around for her, financially.

The town was busy as usual, the angled parking spots nearly filled as tourists and locals shopped the quaint boutiques and stores on Main Street. It was great to see how well Marietta was doing even in late summer as a destination, which could only mean good things for the plans for the ranch.

Lost in thought for a moment about the future, Shay stopped suddenly at the window of Big Z Hardware, with its signs for the upcoming Marietta rodeo and rodeo paraphernalia. The hair on the back of her neck rose. She couldn’t even explain the sudden chill that ran through her, except for the feeling that she was being watched. In the window’s reflection, she caught sight of a ragged-looking man with long hair sticking out from his black baseball cap, standing at the corner of Fourth and Main, staring in her direction.

She turned abruptly, but just as quickly, he turned the corner with his back to her and disappeared. Surely that was just a coincidence. And she probably only noticed him because he seemed out of place here. The unhoused tended toward warmer climates than Montana. If he was that. Maybe he was an out-of-work cowboy? No, not by the look of his clothes.

At any rate, he couldn’t have been looking at her. She felt silly but spooked at the same time. Shaking it off, she hurried up the street to the Main Street Café, which was nearly empty at almost three o’clock. The lunch rush was over, and the dinner rush was still to come. She took a table near the window and ordered a quick salad from the young waitress working the tables while Flo, the long-time café lead waitress and manager, readied the dining room for dinner.

As Shay sipped her iced tea, she opened the box Rachel had given her. Inside, the most gorgeously decorated cupcakes, each a different realistic-looking flower. They were too pretty to eat, really. But history dictated that they would be eaten and soon.

She looked up as a couple exited the restaurant and accidentally locked eyes with the only other person still in the restaurant.

Ugh. It had to be Cooper Lane.

Seeing him gave her a start and she quickly looked back at her cupcakes, pretending to study the intricately decorated tops. But after a moment, she realized the futility of ignoring him and glanced back his way. He tilted a nod at her and went back to his sandwich.

For a heartbeat, she imagined she could get away with pretending they could just ignore each other. But, sighing deeply as he flicked another look at her again, she reluctantly motioned for him to join her. Following a ridiculous, ten-second mime of invitation and false surprise, he gathered up his plate and sauntered over to her table—looking all hot and . . . and sure of himself. Shay tried not to notice the way his jeans hugged his muscular legs or how the sleeves of his black tee shirt clung to his impressive biceps.

He set his plate down opposite her and slid into the booth. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Right. Seems silly, seeing how we’re the only two in here to . . . pretend we—”

“Don’t know each other?”

“Yes. Though,” she continued, “in reality, we hardly do anymore. Know each other, I mean.”

“I guess that’s true. Times change. People change.”

“You’ve certainly changed.” She nearly bit her tongue for saying it.

“Have I?”

“I mean . . . obviously,” she said, avoiding looking at him directly.

The waitress brought her salad, took a look at Cooper, and stated the obvious. “Oh! You moved!”

“Uh-huh,” they both said in unison.

“Aw. Isn’t that cute?” she exclaimed, twisting her blonde ponytail. “You two know each other.”

They side-eyed each other without explanation.

After a few beats waiting for one, the waitress said, “O-kay. Well, y’all enjoy your lunch.”

Cooper took a large bite of his sandwich and stared at Shay while chewing. God, how was it that men could actually look sexy with a mouthful of food?

“So,” he asked, picking up where they left off, “how exactly do you think I’ve changed?”

Delicately, she picked at her salad, only to realize she wasn’t hungry anymore. “Um, oh, I don’t know. You look different. Older.” Better.

“You look the same. You look great,” he replied.

Don’t be nice to me. “I-I meant older in a good way,” she amended. “I know the last decade or so hasn’t been an easy one for you.”

He lowered his head to another bite of sandwich. After a minute, he said, “Ryan seems like a great kid. You must be proud of him.”

She warmed to his words. “I am. Very. He’s amazing. Sweet. A horse lover, too. I hear that’s one of your passions as well. Liam . . . mentioned it in passing.”

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