Page 22 of The Cowboy's Surprise Return

Daisy-Mae and Jackie both straightened in their chairs, not daring to look at each other.

The audience was growing louder, the power of wine and a win for MayBeth under their belts.

“This man is handy, strong and a jack-of-all-trades. He’s looking for a woman who doesn’t mind his scattered skills and a little teasing during their workday. He says he’s someone you can rely on.”

Karen’s gaze met Jackie’s before darting away.

She was matchmaking for her? That was so sweet. Jackie could use someone to get her mind off Cole Wylder.

And this jack-of-all-trades sounded like someone who might fix her car.

Jackie raised her red card. “I’m in!”

* * *

Cole could hear laughter and loud chatter on the other side of the curtain, but he couldn’t make out what Karen was saying. The speakers pointed out into the crowd rather than toward where he was standing, surrounded by idly chatting men. He hoped he’d be called early in the auction, before the women got too crazy.

“What did you get me into?” Owen Lancaster, the Sweet Meadows Ranch’s newest hired hand, asked him as someone let out a wine-fueled whoop.

“No idea,” Cole commented with a grimace. The laughter on the other side of the white curtain was sounding like something the old Cole would have thrived on. It was a good thing he was a community-minded man now. Although putting himself out there like a piece of meat to be auctioned off, and fought over by the crazed women of Sweetheart Creek, probably wasn’t a move in the right direction. Even if it was to help the library.

And maybe get paired up with Jackie.

There. She’d wormed her way into his thoughts again, hadn’t she? But maybe she could be a perfect match—non-romantically—in this auction. Someone fun to brighten his day, but not interested in anything other than friendship. They could work together tomorrow and then go their separate ways.

Smiling to himself, he realized Laura was trying to get his attention.

“Sorry, what?”

“You’re up.” She had come around the corner of the curtain.

“Me?”

“You. Number four. And we’re going to need a challenge.”

What was she talking about?

“We have eight ladies who found your description appealing.” Her smile made him sick to his stomach.

Eight?

“The good news,” she said, hugging her clipboard, “is that you only end up with one.”

“Eight,” Owen said with a chuckle, elbowing Cole in the ribs. “What did you write in your description?”

“What did you say in yours? You like long horseback rides and home-cooked meals?”

Owen turned the color of the sheet hanging beside them.

“You did, didn’t you?”

“No.” The man looked away.

“You know, you could have raised a lot more money if you’d put this guy on the poster and then asked those ladies to pull out their wallets.” Cole pointed to Maverick Blades, a family friend who played in the NHL.

“Or…” Cole turned to Owen “…mentioned we have a former Mr. MLB Rookie of the Year.”

“That was a long time ago,” he muttered.

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