Page 14 of Marrying the Billboard Cowboy

Each word lifted the shadows from her face, revealing glimpses of the woman who might have been before life took its toll. He caught himself imagining waking up to that radiantsmile every day, sharing in the laughter of her and Stetson. But he snapped the lid on those thoughts as quickly as they formed, reminding himself that Kaitlyn was here for stability, not for him.

“Soup’s on,” Zeke announced, ladling generous portions into bowls. He set them down in front of Kaitlyn and Stetson, along with a basket of crusty bread. Steam rose in gentle curls, carrying the fragrance of thyme and roasted chicken across the counter.

“Wow, this looks amazing.” Kaitlyn’s dark eyes sparkled under the cabin’s soft lighting, her appreciation genuine. She lifted a spoonful to her lips, blowing gently before tasting. Her shoulders relaxed with her first sip, the tension of countless hard days easing just a fraction.

His chest swelled with pride that he’d been able to lift that weight from her shoulders. Not only by marrying her, although he was still going to do that. No, he found he really liked feeding her. He liked feeding most people, but usually it didn’t give him this soul-deep satisfaction.

“Thank you, Zeke,” she murmured after a moment.

Man, he was getting sick of hearing that.

“Of course.” Zeke’s response was casual, but inside, her gratitude resonated deeper than it should. He remained standing on the other side of the bar, watching over them. The protector in him found solace in providing, even if only through a simple meal shared at his kitchen counter.

Stetson slurped his soup, his earlier apprehension forgotten in the novelty of the moment. His gaze kept darting toward Zeke.

“Is it good?” Zeke asked him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Uh-huh!” Stetson nodded enthusiastically, soup dribbling down his chin.

“Slow down, cowboy,” Zeke chuckled, pushing a napkin toward the boy. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

Kaitlyn’s laugh joined his, light and airy, and for that fleeting moment, Zeke allowed himself to savor the semblance of family gathered around his kitchen counter.

“Never figured you for a cook,” she remarked.

“Learned from my mom. Then every online class I could find,” Zeke replied, wondering how much he could admit. “Cooking’s about the only thing that can make me forget the worries of the day.”

“Must be nice…” Kaitlyn mused aloud. “I think I’d give anything to forget my worries for a bit.”

“I hope you will,” Zeke said, his heart aching for the struggles this woman had gone through.

“Maybe you can teach me sometime,” she whispered.

“Would be my pleasure,” Zeke said, joy filling him at the prospect of sharing this part of his life with someone.

Zeke watched Kaitlyn’s hands move deftly to stack the bowls, her fingers lingering on the edges as if to ensure their stability. She was always ensuring stability, he mused, for herself and her son.

Like he did most nights, Zeke quickly built a small fire in the cabin fireplace. The cabin was well-built, but the Colorado winters could hold a bitter chill.

Stetson tried to stifle a yawn but failed, his small body succumbing to the warmth of the cabin and the fullness of his belly.

“Bedtime, I reckon,” Zeke said.

“Already?”

“Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.” Zeke led them to the bedroom, the only one in the cabin. It was simple, a testament to necessity over luxury, but it was his. Well, theirs.

“I’m sorry there’s just the one room,” he apologized, his gaze meeting Kaitlyn’s. “I wasn’t exactly prepared for—”

Kaitlyn cut him off with a look, her dark eyes harboring shadows of guilt. “It’s more than enough, Zeke. Thank you.” Her voice was soft, almost lost in the quiet of the room.

“We’ll be comfortable here,” she added, brushing a hand through her son’s hair. The boy nodded, already eyeing the bed with sleepy interest. “It certainly beats the cots at the shelter,” she added quietly, almost as though she hadn’t intended to say them.

Zeke cleared his throat, feeling the weight of her words. “I’ll sleep at the main house tonight.”

“Oh, we can sleep on the couch,” she said. “I don’t want to impose.”

Zeke pressed a finger to her lips to hush her. They were full and soft beneath his rough skin. He tore his gaze up to meet her wide eyes. “I insist.”

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