Page 2 of Marrying the Billboard Cowboy

“Kaitlyn!” Lisa burst into the room, breathless, her eyes alight with excitement. She brandished her phone like a trophy, thrusting the glowing screen toward Kaitlyn. “You have got to see this.”

The image on the phone was striking—a man with broad shoulders and dark hair, his face earnest beneath the bristle of stubble. Above him, bold letters proclaimed an unusual proposal: “Grumpy Cowboy Seeks Bride.” It was as though the billboard had captured a slice of a bygone era and presented it for the modern world’s bewildered amusement.

A laugh snuck out, and she covered her mouth. “Oh my goodness.”

“Isn’t it wild? Some cowboy looking for a bride right there on a billboard in Denver,” Lisa chattered on, oblivious to the weight that seemed to anchor Kaitlyn’s soul just a bit further into the depths. “You should apply,” her co-worker insisted.

“Lisa, please,” Kaitlyn murmured, shaking her head gently. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy—for the hope that must fuel such a quest. But her reality was far removed from the whimsy of strangers seeking love on billboards. Hope? What was that?

“Come on, just think about it. What if...” Lisa trailed off, the words dangling between them like a tantalizing offer.

But Kaitlyn had already turned away, the absurdity of it all pressing down on her. “That’s crazy, Lisa. I can’t just apply to be some stranger’s wife.” Her voice held a tinge of bitterness.

“Okay, okay,” Lisa conceded, though her eyes still danced with the thought of what could be. “But if you change your mind...”

The suggestion hung in the air, an echo of a chance that Kaitlyn wasn’t sure she had the luxury to entertain. She offered Lisa a wan smile before returning to the monotony of scrubbing tables and pouring coffee, where the only expectations were a clean plate and a refill. And the highest hope she had was a generous tip that could buy Stetson a new pair of shoes.

Kaitlyn’s gaze drifted across the diner, landing on the forgotten newspaper crumpled beside the napkin dispenser. Her fingers twitched, betraying her, as she reached out and smoothed the paper against the countertop.

The cowboy’s face stared back at her, rugged and strangely comforting in the grainy print. Every local news station had covered the story. She hadn’t meant to look again, yet there she was, tracing the outline of his stubble beard with her eyes, imagining the texture beneath her fingertips.

“Order up!”

The shout from the kitchen snapped Kaitlyn’s attention away from the paper, back to the reality of clinking dishes and murmuring patrons. She tucked a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear and whisked the plates to table seven, all while trying to shake the image of the unnamed cowboy from her mind.

But it lingered as she refilled coffee mugs and took orders, his broad shoulders and sun-kissed hair weaving through her thoughts like the Christmas lights already strung haphazardly above the diner windows. Absurd, she chided herself. He was just a man on a billboard, foolish enough to look for marriage like it was a job posting.

The day wore on, each tick of the clock stretching longer than the last. A part of Kaitlyn scolded her for even entertaining thenotion. Yet another, quieter voice whispered of possibilities, of a life where she and Stetson weren’t always one step away from disaster.

Would the cowboy be kind? She scoffed. He’d describedhimselfas grumpy. That was either a striking self-awareness, or a big red flag. But would he understand the weight of past sorrows that etched themselves into the corners of her eyes? The thought of leaning on someone felt foreign, dangerous even, after years of counting solely on herself. And what about Stetson?

A flicker of warmth bloomed within her at the thought of her son—he deserved so much more than the dim backseat of an aging sedan, jumping from shelter to shelter.

He deserved a strong man who could teach him all the things she felt like she was failing to do.

As Kaitlyn cleared her last table, her hands moved mechanically, wiping away crumbs and spills, the detritus of other people’s lives. It was so easy for them, wasn’t it? To leave their messes behind for someone else to clean up. Maybe this cowboy wanted the same—someone to sweep into his life and make it neat and tidy.

Yet, wasn’t that what she needed too? Someone to help shoulder the burden, to offer a steadying hand when the ground beneath her feet felt like quicksand?

It wasn’t romance she sought—not really. It was safety, stability, a chance for Stetson to grow up without the cold gnaw of hunger or the sting of pity in strangers’ eyes. As much as she tried to dismiss the cowboy, to paint him as another uncertainty in a life already brimming with them, the possibility of hope was a siren call she couldn’t entirely ignore.

When her shift finally ended, Kaitlyn slipped into her coat, the fabric worn thin at the elbows. Every step toward the door felt heavy. She let out a sigh, a silent prayer really, for thestrength to keep moving forward, no matter how difficult the path might seem.

Kaitlyn’s steps quickened as the diner’s warmth gave way to the chill of the November afternoon. With each breath, a cloud formed before her, dissipating as swiftly as the resolve that had brought her this far.

She had less than two hours before she had to pick up Stetson. Maybe she could find some part-time work to do in the evenings from her phone. Until that bill went unpaid as well.

The library doors whispered open, and she slipped inside, the scent of old books and the hush of sacred quiet greeting her. Her gaze skipped over the rows of computers, all occupied but one. A silent prayer of thanks left her lips as she claimed it.

She settled into the chair, the plastic cool and unforgiving beneath her. The screen blinked to life at the touch of her fingers, its sterile light washing over her. Kaitlyn’s hands hovered over the keys for a moment, uncertainty clawing at her. She’d just look at the website. Curiosity, nothing more.

The more she read, the more her heart pounded. Ezekiel Reynolds. The website gave a lot more information than the billboard. He claimed to be a believer, looking for someone to move to a place called Redemption Ridge.

Redemption?

She could use some of that.

Oh Lord, she must be crazy to contemplate this.

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