Page 33 of The Cowboy's Second Chance Bride

I pointed at her. “I know you.” To Cal, I said, “This is the person who asked to hire me.”

“So I was told.” He gestured to the older woman. “Sabrina, this woman, full of trickery and hidden agendas, is my mother, Morgan Beckett.”

“But I go by my maiden name now, Barker.”

“Your mother?” I remembered how the woman had stared at me so curiously when we’d met. What were her full intentions? Morgan had to have known of our past when she tried to hire me. I turned to Paul, who was unloading the bags. “I owe you a twenty. You were right—he is human.” To Cal, I said, “I thought you’d been hatched from an egg like all cold-blooded snakes.”

Morgan slapped her hands together in pleasure. “You are such a delight, Sabrina. I cannot wait to get to know you better.”

Cal groaned. “She’s not going to be here for long, Mom.”

Morgan put her hands on her hips, her smile large. “Well, don’t just stand there, Calvin. Bring your friend in, and let’s make her comfortable.”

Cal moved up the stairs next to me and gave me the side-eye. “We’re not friends. Just two people who once knew each other.”

I gave him a wicked smile. So my line about us not having a friendship had hit a nerve. “Mere acquaintances.”

The space between his brows made a divot as his gaze roved all over my face, probably trying to figure me out. Good. I liked my Cal Beckett unnerved, with a side of confusion.

ChapterThirteen

SABRINA

The Rolling Thunder Ranch was like a breath of fresh air or a hug from a stranger that felt familiar and comfortable. Weirdly okay.

Cal’s family was a delight. Aside from his mother and his younger sister, Brynna, there was the housekeeper, Mrs. Claudia, and a seven-year-old named Rod who I thought might be her grandson. This kid was destined to be a cowboy, based on the way he hooked his thumbs over his waistband belt and spit every few minutes.

“Too much time with the ranch hands,” Mrs. Claudia scolded, but that didn’t stop him.

When Cal had told me he and his family no longer spoke, that had been sufficient for me. But it would seem in the last decade, something had shifted. Watching them, I witnessed a comfort between Cal and his mother and good-natured banter between him and his sister. Cal explained that Brynna, seven years her senior, was a glassblower and that one of the barns was actually her workshop. Brynna had to have been around sixteen when Cal and I were dating—a child.

How could he possibly have been cut off from her?

Brynna quickly gave me a tour of her amazing work. She was quiet, but her personality was reflected in the art she created—bold colors woven between softer ones. It wasn’t until I saw a vase that looked similar to one I had in my house that I put the pieces together. Brynna Beckett’s work was in some of the finest galleries. A few years back, I’d bought some pieces, not knowing she was Cal’s sister.

Overall, the vibe at the ranch was welcoming and warm. Moments like this were the hardest for me. Though I enjoyed them, I was acutely aware of what I didn’t have—a family. Living relatives. Loneliness crept into these lovely moments and pulled at me. They made me feel itchy, which then made me get restless and needy with wanting to act on my adoption plan. The adoption was something that simply could not be rushed, but boy I wish I could rush it. I was ready.

We spent the rest of the day getting settled, talking over our next move and, for me, getting caught up on sleep. The next morning, we were set to meet Cricket and Cori to put the plan in motion. Cricket was going to do an interview, and Cori was taking pictures, which was a huge relief because everyone knew the deal, and it wasn’t like we were lying to them too. And that had been my caveat. I didn’t want to straight-up lie to people. The beauty of social media was that you could put something out there, and let people add their own narratives, since they were going to do it anyway.

I ran outside to greet them when I heard Cricket’s pickup come down the long drive. No sooner had they parked than they were out of the vehicle, and we were all hugging each other’s necks. I’d known Cori since we were kids, my dad having done a short gambling stint in the small town where she’d grown up. That was where I had come to know Fort as well. And when he’d needed a pretend fiancée, and Cori had needed to escape said small town, where her daddy had left a wake of angry people, I’d put them together. Now they were happily married with two kids, one just six weeks old.

Cori looked tired but blissed out.

“I’m so happy to see you two,” I said. I really did have the best friends.

“We’re happy you’re here. We’ve been looking forward to your visit for a while,” Cori said, still hugging me.

“And the fact that you came even earlier and we get to help you guys out with this problem is even better,” Cricket said with her arm around both of us.

“It’s been forever since I’ve done something for myself that wasn’t kid related. I love them—don’t get me wrong—but it’s nice to have adult time,” Cori said as we pulled apart. She picked up her camera bag. I loved that Cricket had asked her to be our photographer.

“Who knew your past was just right down the road?” Cricket said with a wag of her brows.

“Not me,” I said. “But Jace knew.”

“He’s wicked good at keeping secrets,” Cricket said.

“No kidding. Come on. Let’s get some coffee and map this out.” I gestured to the house.

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