Page 17 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

Guess that made Willow an insider.

“What’s got you in a snit?”

He slid a look at her. “Rain.”

Willow gasped. “It’s not supposed to be here until tomorrow!”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the weather app.” He tapped his phone, the lines at the corners of his eyes pulled tight. “Clouds rolling in, and that old barn’s roof has been needing replacing for years.”

Willow nodded, and now it all made sense. She’d heard Ace and Chance arguing about that very thing soon after she’d arrived here, but never learned if they had made a decision whether to repair it anytime soon.

She swallowed. “It’s the reason it’s been empty for so long, isn’t it?”

Chance nodded, his jaw taut.

“Look—the clouds are already blowing away.” Bella pointed out the window over the sink. “It’s all going to be okay. Don’t you worry, Chance.”

He strode toward the window, muttering “Let me see that …” under his breath.

All three sets of eyes focused on the dance of clouds against a shadowy blue sky. The threat of rain hovered, but as Bella said, the clouds flitted away as quickly as they had come.

Willow clapped her hands, then brushed her fingers in the air toward them both. “Shoo. The both—I mean, all three of you.” She gave Seabiscuit a quick pet. “We can’t worry about what the weather’s thinking about right now. I’ve got to get the rest of the food out. Chance? Please send the boys in for the trays, okay?”

“I’ll just stay here and?—”

She shook her head and took a step toward him, walking Chance backward. Bold of her, but with so much on her shoulders, she didn’t care. Second time she’d nearly overstepped with her boldness this week. Gave her pause because she needed this job.

But she also needed peace and focus in the kitchen. She continued, “You’ve done enough for now. Go on.” She handed him a fat pitcher of lemonade, her specialty. “Send the boys back, and maybe later you can help us tear it all down.”

“But …”

Chance must’ve recognized the flash in her eyes that told him it was no use. She wasn’t going to budge. It wasn’t that she couldn’t use the help. She could. But today was important to Ace. She’d seen it in the way he contemplated the pasture, the barn, and the cabins, and looked longingly at the horse paddocks. So much pride.

And, honestly, Ace looked tired to her lately, likely weary over battles with his son. So, decision made. No more drama in the kitchen. Not tonight. Not on her watch.

Tonight would be perfect.

* * *

She’d done it.

The aroma of smoked brisket, warm cornbread, and yeasty rolls curled through the old barn, inviting guests into the cozy, lit space like a comforting embrace. Smokeless tea lights flickered on every tabletop, their golden glow glinting off Mason jars filled with fresh-cut lupine, daisies, and asparagus fern. A soft hum of music played in the background, while laughter echoed off the rafters.

Chance had to admit—though he’d never say it out loud—the place looked better than it had in years. Alive, almost. Like it had a soul again.

He leaned against a support beam near the barn door, arms folded, and cast a halfhearted glance over the crowd. Most folks were gathered near the long food tables, swapping ranch stories and slathering butter onto hot slabs of cornbread. Rafael stood near the doublewide entrance, shaking hands and grinning like he’d never left this place behind. Bella stood poised beside him, perky, smiling, and gracious. Together, they looked comfortable. Settled.

Like they belonged.

A sudden clench to his jaw caught Chance off guard. A knot twisted in his gut as he watched Rafael’s gaze sweep across the ranch, taking it all in. Like he owned the place.

A warm breeze drifted in, carrying with it a distant rumble from somewhere far across the mountain range. It began as a low pulse, maybe just a truck downshifting on the road beyond the ridge. Depending on the wind’s direction, sounds like those could whimper … or roar.

Willow’s voice broke into his thoughts. “You look ready to punch someone.”

Chance blinked. She stood beside him, eyebrows raised, a quirk to her lips. Hair piled loosely on her head, and a few strands curling around her face. Her eyes drooped, soft circles forming beneath them. She was tired, no doubt about that, but … beautiful.

He looked away, his voice flat. “I’m being friendly.”

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