Page 33 of The Cowboy Who Worked Late

When he finally got back to his house and took in the tote, he called, “Levi, my momma sent food!”

“Oh boy,” Levi yelled from down the hall. He came out a moment later drying his hands with a towel Henry’s momma had once sent home with him too. “I knew your momma would send food, and I was just praying I would be well enough to eat it.”

He wore a huge grin on his face, and he didn’t seem like he’d been sick at all. “Well, Bard sent over a cleaner, and they wiped everything down with antiseptic. So hopefully you won’t get sick at all. No one else has, and I think it was really a twenty-four-hour bug.”

Henry put the tote on the counter and started pulling out bowls of soup and packages of crackers and plastic containers. Levi picked one up and said, “Oh my word. Is this the spinach Alfredo lasagna?”

Henry laughed. “Yep, that’s her special spinach Alfredo lasagna.”

Levi grinned and hugged the container to his chest. “I love your momma so much.”

Henry laughed again, because he loved his momma too, and he was so glad that she’d sent food for him and Angel.

And as Levi prayed over their dinner, Henry added a small prayer for Angel, that she’d learn how to let go of some of the responsibilities in her life. Then, she wouldn’t have to carry such a heavy load.

He also prayed for himself, selfishly asking the Lord to make it possible for him and Angel to find discreet, meaningful ways to be together and get to know one another better.Dating things, if it be Thy will. Right here on the ranch, where no one knows about them.

And with those prayers spoken in his heart and mind, and Levi’s big voice saying, “We’re so grateful for Henry’s momma and this food,” Henry closed out his prayer with an “Amen.”

Now he just had to pay attention to Angel and make sure she didn’t spiral down as far as she had a couple of days ago.

Chapter Ten

“How are you feeling now?” Trevor asked.

“I feel good,” Angel said, though the weight of Lone Star had already fallen back onto her shoulders. She looked up as her brother put a plate of food in front of her. “Thanks, Trev.”

He smiled at her and watched as he used his hand canes to go back into the kitchen to get his own food. He picked up the plate and then just used one cane on his way back to the table.

“You’re moving really good today,” Angel said.

“Yeah,” Trevor said. “I didn’t work at all today. Took the day off.”

Alarm bells rang through Angel. “You took the day off today?”

Trevor grinned as he sat down, the affair kind of clumsy and noisy, but Angel was used to it. “Yeah,” Trevor said. “I had a bad headache last night, so I didn’t train with Cutter today.”

“Oh,” Angel said. “Are you feeling better then?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Took some medicine, a hot shower, and then a nap. I feel great.” He picked up his fork and stabbed it into the pile of mashed potatoes on his plate.

Angel looked at her own food, which was a barbecued chicken breast, mashed potatoes with country gravy, and cornon the cob, and she wondered why she thought Trevor couldn’t take care of himself. It may not be gourmet food or fine dining, but the man ate just fine. He had money to buy groceries, and all he had to do was get a ride into town to pick them up. Angel often took him or just picked up his grocery order when she went to town.

“This looks great, Trev,” she said, her voice catching in her chest. Thankfully, it didn’t make it up to her throat where he could hear it.

“Why don’t you tell me what you have going on?” Trevor picked up his corn and took a bite. He held incredible strength in his lower back, abs, chest, and arms. He had to move his whole body that way sometimes, as his injury had left his legs less than able to support his weight. Trevor still did physical therapy every two weeks to improve his range of motion and strength. He would never be able to walk without some sort of assistance, but he wasn’t wheelchair-bound either.

Angel took a bite of her own mashed potatoes. “I went to Three Rivers with Henry Marshall.”

“Yeah,” Trevor said around his mouthful of food. “He texted all of us; we all know that.” He didn’t seem alarmed by that. He didn’t seem like anything shady was going on, and Angel relaxed into her plan to perhaps just keep Henry a secret for a little while.

You have to finesse it, she told herself, echoing Henry’s words in her head. She didn’t know how to do that with Trevor. Heck, she didn’t know how to do it at all. She looked at her brother, pure vulnerability streaming through her. She loved him dearly, but she didn’t have to hide anything from him.

“I like Henry Marshall,” she said.

Trevor looked up from his dinner, his eyes widening with every nanosecond that passed. “YoulikeHenry Marshall?”

Angel nodded, picked up her knife and fork, and focused on her own food. Trevor’s gaze wasn’t quite the level of Daddy’s, but she still couldn’t hold it very well.

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