Page 74 of The Cowboy's Surprise Return

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Cole placed the last box of Jackie’s things on the floor in her cluttered apartment. It was smaller than her one above the store in Sweetheart Creek, and felt cramped. He’d been driving one of the first trucks to arrive in the caravan of friends, and had helped roll out her area rugs, haul up her couch, armchair and bed, before bringing up boxes from other vehicles.

Goose sat on Jackie’s purse, watching it all with a morose expression, his tail thumping whenever Cole walked past.

In the small kitchen, Mrs. Fisher and Cole’s mom had already unpacked Jackie’s dishes, stacking them on the counter as they debated the most logical and efficient place to store each item.

Mrs. Fisher flicked a light switch. When nothing happened, she flicked it a few more times, then moved to the fridge and checked the interior. She frowned and called Jackie. “Why don’t you have electricity, honey?”

“I don’t?”

“Did you get it hooked up?” Cole asked.

“What do you mean?” She looked so confused it broke his heart.

“It doesn’t always come with your apartment.” He’d learned that the hard way, too.

“I didn’t have to hook it up in Sweetheart Creek,” Jackie said, clearly miffed by this embarrassing oversight.

“Welcome to the city, sweetie. You pay for everything here. Even parking.” Laura had hung up Jackie’s clothes in the mirrored bedroom closet and now gave her a sympathetic smile.

“I can help you get it sorted out,” Carly offered, popping up from the floor, where she’d finished putting the legs back on Jackie’s coffee table.

“Well, go now,” Maria said. “This food won’t last forever without a refrigerator.”

The two friends hustled out the door, purses slung over their shoulders, while the rest of the gang stayed behind, Levi attaching her bookshelf to the wall so that Brant and April could fill it up.

It was going to take Jackie days to find everything even though the apartment was small. Too small. And not nearly sunny enough. Plus the hallway to her apartment door smelled funny, and Cole didn’t like the way her neighbor two doors down had eyed Jackie as if she was next on his dating list.

Cole had growled at the man, who’d stepped back into his apartment, locking the door. Too bad Cole wouldn’t be here on a regular basis to remind the guy to stay in his little hole and away from his girlfriend.

Although he supposed he couldn’t call her that any longer, and it was officially none of his business who she dated.

The realization gutted him, and he had to take a moment to collect himself.

By the time Jackie and Carly returned, the last box had been flattened and set out for recycling, and the women had put away the kitchenware, as well as cleaned up after the lunch they’d brought along for the helpers.

Now everyone was hugging Jackie and making their way to the door.

Too fast. It had all been too fast.

There were no more excuses to be with Jackie, to keep her in his arms, to suck out the last of being together.

With a sympathetic frown, Jenny Oliver closed the apartment door behind her, and Cole turned to Jackie. She was standing near the doorway to her minuscule kitchen, hands shoved deep in her jeans pockets. She looked exhausted and glum. They’d barely seen each other since The Goodbye, as he thought of their whiskey night in The Watering Hole, the past two weeks feeling like the longest of his life.

“Your dad moves next week?” he asked, not knowing what else to say to the woman he’d always found so easy to talk to.

She nodded.

“I heard they haven’t found anyone for your job at the feed store yet. Are you going to commute until you find something here?” He was unable to disguise the hope in his voice.

“I got an entry position at a library a few blocks from here. Karen wrote me a glowing reference. The pay sucks, but it’ll keep my head above water until I find something else.”

Jackie looked up at the ceiling, blinking as her eyes filled with tears, her chin quivering. Cole had her in his arms in a second, holding her close. He stroked her hair, wanting to kiss her strawberry-scented lips. “It’ll all work out. It’ll be okay.”

“You can’t promise that,” she said, shuddering.

“I know, but it will. Only good things happen to Jackie Moorhouse.”

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