Page 13 of Marrying the Billboard Cowboy

With trembling fingers, Stetson reached out, his touch tentative at first. Then, feeling the warmth of the horse’s breath and the softness of its muzzle, his fear melted into a smile that lit up his young face. The horse nuzzled his palm, accepting the tentative gesture of friendship.

“Good job, Stet. See? You’re a natural,” Zeke encouraged, pride swelling in his chest at the boy’s bravery.

“Momma, she’s soft!” Stetson turned back to Kaitlyn, excitement replacing his initial trepidation.

She met Zeke’s gaze across the barn. He responded with a nod.I’ve got you,he wanted to say.

Zeke cleared his throat. “Inky is down here,” he said, giving Honeysuckle one last pat and leading them down the aisle.

Inky was an old Appaloosa. When Zeke was a teenager, Inky had been his closest friend. The one he confessed all his boyhood crushes to and complained to about his annoying younger brother. While Inky was too old for ranch work these days, he still sometimes saddled up for Pony Patrol, the riding lessons for younger elementary kids.

Stetson would love it.

Zeke pulled a couple peppermints from a bag in the cabinet and let Stetson give them to Inky. The boy giggled when the horse mouthed them from his palm.

He kept his focus on Stetson. It was easier than thinking about the beautiful woman that had shown up with a kid in tow. Zeke wanted to be angry about the surprise, but at the same time, he could understand. She couldn’t have known whether he would have said yes, knowing about Stetson.

But now that they were here? Both of them? There was no way he could have turned them away.

After Stetson had met all of the horses, Zeke led Kaitlyn and Stetson away from the barn. He guided them toward a white picket fence encircling a small pen where chickens scratched at the earth, goats bleated a welcome, and pigs snorted in the mud. It wasn’t a petting zoo, necessarily, but the guests at the resort loved to pet and feed the smaller animals as well.

“Look, Stet,” Kaitlyn said, her voice soft with encouragement. “They have goats just like the fair.”

Stetson’s gaze followed his mother’s pointing finger, locking onto the bustling activity within the pen. He squealed with delight, pressing his face against the fence, fingers curling around the wooden planks. The chickens clucked and pecked, oblivious to the little boy’s fascination.

“Goats are funny creatures,” Zeke commented, chuckling as one head-butted another in a playful skirmish. “They’ll eat just about anything.”

“Even tin cans?” Stetson’s dark eyes sparkled with curiosity as he turned to Zeke, repeating tales he’d surely heard before.

“Maybe not cans, but they sure have a go at everything else.” Zeke reached out, scratching behind the ear of a particularly friendly goat that had ambled over.

“Come on, let’s show Stetson the pigs,” Zeke beckoned them along, leading the way to where the pigs lounged in their pen, snuffling contentedly.

“Momma, they’re so big!” Stetson exclaimed, and Kaitlyn couldn’t help but laugh at his wide-eyed wonder.

“Big and muddy,” she agreed, kneeling beside him to watch the pigs wallow.

As the shadows lengthened and the air grew cooler, Zeke glanced at the pair. “You two must be getting hungry.”

“Oh, no. Lunch was plenty.”

But Zeke fixed her with a look that brooked no argument. “No arguing now. Let’s get something to eat.”

Without waiting for a response, he led them back to his truck and then to his cabin, a small structure tucked near the edge of a grove of aspens. Wrangler Row housed a handful of single-bedroom homes for the ranch hands. While Zeke could have stayed at the main house with his parents, he liked the independence of his own space.

“Take a seat at the counter. I’ll whip up something quick,” Zeke said, already rolling up the sleeves of his plaid shirt as he moved to the stove.

Kaitlyn settled Stetson onto a barstool, helping him swing his little legs up. She took the seat next to him, watching as Zeke moved about the kitchen with ease. The sizzle of food hitting the pan filled the room.

“Thank you, Zeke,” she said quietly, her words carrying a weight of gratitude that went beyond a simple meal.

“Happy to do it,” Zeke replied without turning, focused on the task at hand. But even he couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at his lips. In the warmth of the cabin’s kitchen, with the aroma of dinner on the stove and the company of two people who were slowly breaking down the walls he’d built, Zeke felt an unfamiliar sense of contentment settle over him.

He glanced over at Kaitlyn, who perched on a barstool, her son beside her, their heads bowed together in whispered conversation.

“Momma, are we going to see the horses again tomorrow?” Stetson’s voice, bright and hopeful, broke through the rhythmic sounds of dinner preparation.

Kaitlyn’s face softened, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she nodded. “If you’d like, sweetheart. I think our life here will be a lot different than in the city.”

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