Page 10 of A Miracle for the Confident Cowboy

He shouldn’t be surprised. Stubborn people usually were determined as long as what they were fighting for was something they believed in.

Sophie could have dropped that leash and hollered for help. But she didn’t. She’d stuck it out.

The smile wouldn’t leave his face the whole time they worked in silence. Whether she wanted it or not, he had found a deep respect for her. It really was too bad she wanted nothing to do with him. If there was any shot he could change that opinion, he might have set to work to do it.

Alas he couldn’t. He wasn’t in the game of chasing women who didn’t want to be chased. Much like most men, he’d learned that the hard way. A woman who had to be convinced to be with him wasn’t worth his time.

CHAPTER FIVE

Sophie staredat the shelter sign out front. She frowned. Every time she’d shown up for a shift,hehad been here. She’d been volunteering for a week and each day was filled with one incident or another. Heat seared her cheeks as she thought about the first day. She’d nearly lost her nerve to return after that experience.

Duke was the bane of her existence—the man, not the dog. Duke the dog was actually pretty sweet when he wasn’t being returned to his kennel. She’d spent some time playing with him out in the yard.

A brisk breeze ruffled her hair and she pulled her jacket tighter around her. It wasn’t nearly as cold as it was in Montana this time of year, but she also hadn’t expected it to get this cold here.

Her hair lifted and danced in the cold wind and she turned her gaze to the sky. Clouds were rolling in. They didn’t look stormy—not exactly—but they did seem to say that today wasn’t the typical December afternoon that Texas usually offered.

She sighed, turning her focus once again on the building. Duke’s truck was parked out front. It was hard to miss now that she knew what it was.

Of course he drove the most obnoxious truck. It was a huge, candy apple red, Chevy 2500. It was just as obnoxious as he was and yet she couldn’t help admiring the color. If she could have something in that color—but sporty—she might actually go for it. Either that, or a VW bug.

Another bout of wind wrapped its way around her, prompting a shiver. She needed to get inside before she froze.

Once inside, she did her best to avoid him. That first day, she’d asked to work with the dogs so she didn’t have to interact with demon spawn—namely the cats. Unfortunately, working with Duke had been worse. And he always seemed to be in the room with the dogs.

She crossed her fingers he wasn’t in with the dogs today then she headed down the hall and pushed the door open.

So much for making that wish. Maybe she was doing it wrong. Maybe it wasn’t about the crossed fingers. Maybe Pippa was right and she needed to throw a coin into the well.

Sophie snorted to herself, drawing Duke’s curious attention. She frowned at him, arms folded. “I thought you said you like cats. Why are you always in here?”

He quirked a brow in her direction. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware we were on speaking terms.”

“Geez, answer the question,” she muttered, pulling on some oversized rubber boots. She wasn’t going to let him be the reasonshe quit volunteering. And if she were honest with herself, she’d admit it was too quiet when they weren’t talking.

“Gus doesn’t like it when I come home smelling like other cats.”

She glanced at him. “Gus is your cat?”

He nodded, not missing a beat as he continued to work. Today he was refilling the large barrels of food from the bags. His arm muscles twitched and rippled, mesmerizing her and setting off fresh electrical currents through her body. He glanced at her and she immediately turned away, praying he hadn’t caught her admiring his physique. “Does your dog…”

“Care? Oh, heavens, no. Daisy is the most easy-going dog there is.” She smirked at Duke. “I thought we went over this. Cats are little jerks. I wouldn’t be surprised if Gus is jealous you’re not spending time with him.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Duke murmured absentmindedly.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Can I ask you something?”

He peeked at her. “Shoot.”

“Why do they call you Duke.”

His lips twitched but he didn’t pull them into a full smile. “Somehow I think you’re only going to get irritated when you find out.”

“Try me,” she insisted.

He put what he was working on down, then faced her. “When I got here—from England—no one else had my accent.”

The temptation to roll her eyes was strong. Back to the accent thing again. But this time, she refrained.

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