Page 79 of Boston
“You’re kidding,” Kat said. Her smile grew and grew, and she looked over to Jeremy. “You told me you hadn’t noticed anything.”
“I haven’t,” Jeremy said, and he definitely looked like Cora had slapped him with an ice-cold salmon straight out of the Little Brown Bear River.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“Boston Simpson,” Cora said, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth in the most maniacal of ways.
“Boston,” Kat said with wonder.
“Yes,” Cora said. “And this is a business meeting, so I don’t need you to go all gushy on me. I need you and Momma to help me make sure that the other employees here at Silver Sage don’t think that I’m going to give Boston preferential treatment because we’re seeing each other.” She nodded to her mother. “Momma had some great ideas, so I’ll let her start.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Kat said. “Momma, you knew about this?”
Her mother could have said that she’d just found out herself. Instead, she smiled at Kat and said, “Yes, dear. Now let’s help Cora with this problem, because I just got a text that Anne made far too many chicken pot pies for the anniversary luncheon for the Andersons, and I want to get a few to take home before they’re all gone.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Boston couldn’t wait to get back to his cabin, and he practically ran out of the cubicles in the administration building in an effort to get there quickly. After all, Cash had just texted that he’d turned onto the property.
A quiet excitement built inside Boston that he couldn’t quite explain. Cash had definitely been his best friend growing up, and the two of them could simply be in the same room, say nothing, and feel like they’d spent quality time together.
Not only did Boston find comfort with Cash, but his cousin had gone into quiet mode in the past week or two. He’d only just started returning Boston’s texts a couple of days ago, and only with information about his arrival.
Something had definitely happened, and Boston didn’t want to be nosy about it. He simply wanted to offer support if he could.
He jogged every couple of steps, only waving to Cotton as he went by the stables and glancing cursorily to the left, where through the trees, sat Cora’s house.
He wouldn’t see her for a couple of days, as he wanted to dedicate his time with Cash to Cash, because Boston suspected his cousin would disappear as quickly as he had arrived.
Cora had plenty going on with the Fourth of July holiday, and they’d planned to go to lunch with Cash on the third and then help him move into his vacation rental. He claimed not to have a lot, but Boston had lived with Cash for a few months, and the man sometimes changed his clothes three or four times a day.
Boston smiled just thinking about the amount of laundry his cousin did and how many bags he’d probably packed. Not only that, but Cash traveled with a lot of medical equipment too, despite the fact that he hadn’t been seriously injured in the rodeo.
Yet, whispered through Boston’s mind, because he knew one of Cash’s major concerns with being a career rodeo cowboy was injuries.
Heck, last summer, Boston had sat on the phone with Cash for hours over a month-long period after the injury of one of his friends in the rodeo. It had happened at the Calgary Stampede, which took place around this time of year, and which Cash usually loved to ride in.
Boston wondered if Tyson Greene’s injury had scared Cash off the rodeo circuit this year. Perhaps there were just too many painful memories in Canada, and Cash had decided to take the whole month off so it wouldn’t call attention to that one event. Honestly, with Cash, it could be anything.
Boston prayed as he entered the parking lot of the employee building. “Dear Lord, let me know when to push him and when to back off.”
No matter what, Boston didn’t want Cash to have to suffer needlessly, or alone. He’d been in that situation before, and it wasn’t pleasant.
He hurried down the sidewalk, then cut toward his apartment just as Cash yelled his name. Boston looked to his right, where the sound had come from, and he found his cousinslinging a sizable green camouflage duffel bag onto his back. Boston started to laugh, and he changed directions immediately.
“Hey, brother,” he said as he arrived, grabbing onto Cash despite the big backpack poking up behind his head. “It’s so good to see you.”
Cash said nothing, but his usual vibrant energy poured off him as he gripped Boston tightly and pounded him on the back.
“Boy, am I glad to be here,” Cash finally said, and he cleared his throat as he stepped away. “That was a long drive today.”
Boston watched his cousin swallow, wondering if Cash was dealing with some hidden emotions. Surprise shot through him, as Cash had inherited a lot of his father’s stoic characteristics. He could shut out distractions as loud as thirty thousand fans screaming at him from a Las Vegas stadium, as well as the two-ton bulls that he rode, snorting and pawing at the ground, desperate to get him off their backs.
He focused like no one Boston had ever met before, and seemingly nothing ever bothered him.
Well, something does,Boston thought as he watched his strong, powerful rodeo cowboy cousin swallow yet again.
