Page 40 of 11 Cowboys
“Boyfriend?” she echoes, tilting her head. “No.” She says boyfriend with a faint question mark, like the word doesn’t quite belong in her world. “I’m not good with commitment,” she adds softly.
Her gaze shifts to the kids. I may be an analytical bastard who’s better with numbers than people, but there’s longing there. Subtle and unspoken. Her mouth says one thing; her body says another.
Grace is infuriating that way. So damn open, so willing to live out loud, and yet I’m certain I’ve never met anyone so carefully guarded. What the hell is she hiding under all that sparkle and easy confidence?
I don’t get the chance to ask.
“Grace!” Junie calls from across the room.
The moment fractures. Grace steps back, offering me a small, knowing smile that hits deeply and uncomfortably. Then she turns away.
I watch her go, the faint trace of her scent lingering.
She doesn’t fit. She shouldn’t fit.
But God help me… part of me wants her to stay longer than this article will take to write, so this ranch and the people in it can prove we’re better than whatever life she’s planning on running back to.
14
Lennon
The paper is already soft from folding, creased once vertically and once horizontally. My handwriting fills it in neat block capitals. Supplies. Quantities. Brands. No guesswork. No improvising.
Levi makes shit up as he goes. McCartney literally paints his way through life. Cody gets away with a wink and a smile.
But not me. I keep the machine running. I tick the boxes. I keep the reins on this place.
I double-check the list again before climbing into the truck. Flour. Sugar. Fence staples. Wormer. Bolts for the west gate hinge that Cody keeps ignoring. A parcel Dylan asked me to collect but wouldn’t say a damn thing about. More items that we need urgently enough to make the drive into town.
“Lennon?”
I glance up. Grace stands near the porch, pulling on a soft gray sweater over her T-shirt. “You headed to town?”
“Yeah. Grocery run. Feed store. Hardware.”
She hesitates for half a second. “Can I come?”
I always go alone because it’s more efficient. Take any of the others, and they’ll want to stop for a beer or buy shit we don’t need. But Conway’s words from last night roll back into my head:Let her in. Let her see.It’s the only way we’re going to get what we need.
I unlock the passenger door. “If you’re quick.”
She grins and pulls on some ridiculous white sneakers that wouldn’t last three seconds if she lived here.
That’s when Beau comes barreling out from behind the barn.
Half cattle dog, half mutt, all attitude, he hates visitors. He’s run delivery men off the property more than once, but today? He bolts straight for Grace.
She barely has time to brace before Beau skids to a stop at her feet, pressing against her legs, whining softly, tail wagging like a flag in a hurricane.
I stop dead.
The dog doesn’t even like most of us.
Grace laughs, scratching his rough head as he melts into her side like he’s found home.
“Hey, Beau. Whatcha doin'?”
I shake my head slowly. “You’re the first outsider he’s ever tolerated.”
