Page 5 of The Cowboy Who Worked Late

She stuck them in her pocket as she hurried across her porch, and she used the remaining walk to Henry’s truck to run her hands through her hair and get it settled in the right place. So many pieces of her life felt fake, and Angel vaulted back into Henry’s truck with his gaze stuck to her.

He had to see her—really see her—and that idea struck Angel’s heart with pure fear.

“You look great,” he said simply, and then he put the truck in reverse and backed out of the small parking area in front of her house.

“Thank you.” She buckled and managed to get her earrings in. “Is my hair straight?” She faced him, her pulse like a gong being banged on over and over and over again. “It’s not my real hair, and I need more than six minutes to make it look normal.”

“It’s not your real hair?”

“No,” she said, when she could’ve said so much more. The truth was, she was going bald. Her. A woman. Her hair had thinned considerably in the past three years, and Angel had started wearing extensions right away.

However, those only broke the little hair she had, damaging it further. So she’d moved to wigs, and she’d settled on one that looked the most like her natural hair. She’d bought five of them, and she rotated them to make sure they could be cleaned, repaired, or replaced.

With horror, she realized she’d never told anyone she wore a wig. Not even her recent boyfriends had known. “Does it look okay?” she asked, reaching up to run her fingers through it again, trying to make sure the part sat right and the hair fell down correctly.

“It’s gorgeous,” Henry said, turning to look out the windshield again. He cleared his throat once and then twice. “Where do you want to go to eat?”

“Where were you and Levi going to go?”

“Stinnett.” He glanced over to her. “There’s a great little pub there. The Gas Light. It’s not too loud this early in the evening, and the food is phenomenal.”

“Pub food.”

“They have great burgers and chicken,” he said. “But they have amazing pizza too. And a really great mac and cheese.” Heseemed perfectly at-ease, and Angel started to relax too. “Great big salads with roast beef. That kind of thing.”

“You’ve ordered a great big salad with roast beef from this pub place?”

“I’ve been with people who have.”

“Women.”

“Yes,” he said.

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

“If I was, I’d be taking them to the couples game night,” he shot back. “Not my cabinmate.” He glared at her. “Areyouseeing anyone right now?”

She folded her arms. “No.”

“Great. Neither am I. I haven’t dated since I came to Lone Star, in fact.”

“Why not?” From what Angel knew of Henry, which admittedly wasn’t much, he’d dated a lot during farrier school.

He shifted in his seat and looked out his side window. “Maybe I don’t get off the ranch as much as I should either.” He faced her and cocked one eyebrow at her. Almost as quickly, he softened. His grip on the steering wheel loosened, and he reached toward her.

But he pulled back before he made it even halfway to her, and Angel had no idea what she’d do if he tried to hold her hand. Or touch her. “I’m worried about you, Angel.”

“I’m okay.” She cinched her arms around her midsection and watched the landscape flow toward them and around them as he drove. “I just get overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t you ever feel like you’re just drowning?”

“Sometimes, yes,” he said quietly.

Angel couldn’t get air to go down the right way. Thankfully, it only lasted for a moment, and then her lungs and windpipe worked just fine. She breathed in, swallowed, and kept her gaze out the windshield.

“What do you do when you feel like that?” She felt him looking at her, but she steadfastly refused to meet his gaze.

“Honestly?” He sighed like she was asking him to cut off a hand and lend it to her for a while. “I’m a momma’s boy. When I feel like I’m drowning, I go home to my momma.”

Tears pressed into her eyes. “That sounds so nice, Henry.”

---