Page 27 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

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Chance leaned his frame against the open doorway, hat pulled down snug and low, arms crossed. From beneath his brim, he surveyed the pale shimmer of sunlight stretching across the pasture that he’d long known, first as a kid coating his bare feet with mud, and, later, as a young man, learning to ride his horse across the land.

Fingerprints of the storm lay everywhere—muddy boot tracks, soaked hay, dampened linens still hanging over the side fences. Even the old, ragged posts that held up the barn had yet to dry clear through.

He pushed off the wall with his boot. Maybe he’d change a thing or two about that storm, but when the air smelled like it had just been laundered by spring, he couldn’t help but appreciate what was left behind. He walked around back, reliving memories of growing up here, where late-night shenanigans with his brothers were tradition.

After his little stop at the beach this morning, he’d come back, stuck his boots back on, and had been working ever since. He and some of the hands finished hauling away trash from last night’s adventure. Rafael threw out aGood Mornin’in passing, but otherwise, he’d been AWOL.

Fine with him.

Chance hauled a barrel full of feed around to the other side of the barn, and as he did, his gaze drifted to the small cottage where Willow lived. He could tell she’d come back to the kitchen briefly after their encounter at the beach this morning, but she had disappeared soon after tidying up after the guests had finally rousted, downed coffee, and left in a hurry.

She had not offered him an explanation of her whereabouts, and his father had made it clear he had no jurisdiction over the main house staff. Though he told himself it was none of his business, a knot formed in Chance’s gut as he tried to guess where she might’ve gone.

Could’ve been a doctor’s appointment she was headed to.

Or maybe … breakfast with a boyfriend at one of those fancy little places in downtown Topa Springs.

His stomach clenched, and he scowled.None of my business.

He plunked the barrel into a patch of weeds, rays from the overhead sun dusting him on the chin. Puddles that mirrored the sky were mostly dry now, and a slight breeze stirred up broken daisies, scattering them across the grounds.

His ears perked. Tires crunched along hard earth. Willow pulled up to her cabin in that sorry car of hers, and slowly stepped out, her shoulders slumping forward. On her way up the path, she stopped, and shading her eyes, turned toward the barn.

He swallowed involuntarily. She was … lovely. Graceful. He tried to look away, and when he could not, he found himself noting the way her gaze skimmed the ranch, as if assessing the damage left behind by the storm.

That’s it. Keep it business. All business.

She stopped moving when their eyes met.

Chance doffed his hat. “Hey,” he offered. It had been the second time he’d greeted her that way today. He might be getting used to it.

She reacted with a slow smile, turned fully, and took steps toward him. “Didn’t see you there at first.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye out for you.”

This seemed to startle her, and one eyebrow rose. “You have?”

He shrugged.Way to play it casual.“You disappeared after the beach.”

“Oh. Well, I had an appointment.” She cinched her purse over her shoulder, holding it close to her body. Almost protectively. “Don’t worry. Ace knew I wouldn’t be here.”

Reflexively, Chance’s jaw clenched.

Willow shrugged, a smile appearing on her face, though it looked forced. “It’s a standing appointment. Not a big deal.”

“If you say so.”

Her eyes clouded over, as if holding back another kind of storm. Maybe he should’ve minded his own business. Remorse at his flippancy twisted in his gut. He reached forward, his hand landing on her forearm.

“You okay?”

She nodded yes, but her eyes continued to hold something darker.

He didn’t push. But he didn’t walk away either.

“Sure?” he asked softly.

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