Page 12 of My Billionaire Cowboy Protector

“You know I’ve dated a few women since Catherine died and I always compared them to Catherine. None of them couldmeasure up. I know that’s not fair, and I didn’t do it on purpose, but you know how it is.”

“I can only imagine,” Colton said.

“The funny thing is that Taylor is nothing in the world like Catherine. Taylor is small, but she is anything but a delicate little flower. Catherine was always a little frail, even when we were kids,” Lane said. “Catherine was sweet and had a polished air about her. While Taylor isn’t a wharf rat, chewing tobacco and using words that would make a sailor blush, she is… I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“She’s a true woman who can put in a hard day’s labor but still be what one would call a lady,” Colton said.

“Yeah, that. Taylor is the first woman I’ve not compared to Catherine.”

“That means one of two things or both. The first is that you are finally healing after her death. Second, there is a real connection between you and Taylor,” Colton said.

“Or C all of the above,” Lane concluded.

“Yep,” Colton said.

“We’ve only known each other for a few days,” Lane protested.

“You’ve experienced that before. You’ve met a woman at the club who you felt attracted to and asked her out without knowing much about her. The only difference is that you know a little bit about Taylor.”

“You have a point,” Lane said. “This is the first time that I’ve spent personal time with a woman and didn’t feel like I was cheating on Catherine.”

“She told you not to feel that way and that you needed to move on and settle down with someone.”

“I know, but since when do I listen to anyone?” Lane asked wryly.

“Since never,” Colton conceded.

Except for the faint blush on Taylor’s cheeks when she smiled at him the next morning, she acted like nothing happened. She ate breakfast and joked around with everyone like normal. Taylor slipped out to say good morning to Diablo and to give him an apple and was back on time for the morning assignments.

“It’s you and me again, Kiddo,” Sam said.

“Kiddo? You’re what, two years older than me?” Taylor laughed.

“Maybe, but you’re the new kid on the block,” Sam said.

“That was a great ’80s band,” Taylor said, a deadpanned look on her face.

“You listened to that?” he asked.

“Obviously not in the ’80s, but I like a nice blend of pop and rock music from that era plus country from the 1960s to the current,” she said.

“A well-rounded woman,” Sam said. “I’m impressed.”

Lane laughed at their conversation. “Would you believe that I’m a Michael Jackson fan?”

“No way,” Taylor laughed as she tossed the last hay bale into the back of the truck. “See ya later.”

Sam reported that she worked every bit as hard as he did and would rather have her on the range than Anthony any day.

After lunch, Lane said, “Taylor, I want your help in the sick pen. We need to cull those out who can be saved from those that can’t.”

“Sure,” Taylor said.

Lane watched her carefully as she inspected each of the cattle that was in the pen.

“This one has eye cancer. It wouldn’t affect the meat, but we shouldn’t put her in with the rest of the cattle to go to the market.”

“We’re getting low on meat here. I’ll take her in tomorrow,” Lane said.

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