Page 10 of Boston
Boston took a deep breath and sighed it out. “Oh, let’s see. We’ve got a Tex—how much more cowboy can you get than that?” He grinned at Cora’s mother. “Maybe Blaze. Trace. Otis. Those are just my uncles. I’ve got a cousin named Cole, Ryder, North—Cash.” He beamed then. “My cousin Cash is a bull rider on the pro rodeo circuit.”
He gave a light laugh. “And my uncle Jem; let’s not forget about his completely cowboy name.”
“Jem is pretty western,” Granddad said. “I had a cousin named Jem.”
Boston grinned at him, and he seemed so at-ease with all of them. Cora didn’t even feel as comfortable as he looked. “We’ve got Lars, and Ladd, and Ridge. I mean,Ridge.”
“My name comes from Coral,” Cora said.
Boston looked at her again, something sogoodabout him. “I have a cousin named Canyon too. They’re not bad names.”
“Mountains and canyons are strong,” Granddad said. “They’re good names.”
“Yep,” Boston agreed easily. “My family loves their cowboy traditions.”
“They’re Country Quad, aren’t they?” Jeremy asked.
Cora pulled in another breath, which earned her another look from Boston. “Yes,” he said, his voice a touch more guarded now. “Some of them, at least.”
“You’re a Young?” she asked. “I thought you said your last name was Simpson.”
“It is.” His bright blue eyes turned a shade cooler. “My mother married Maverik Young when I was seven years old. I’ve lived in Coral Canyon—with the Youngs—since.”
She immediately wanted to ask how many years that was, because then some simple math would give her his age. But she nodded and kept her mouth shut.
Boston entertained them with more history and another story about a grizzly bear sighting from another of his uncles—not one of the famous country music stars—and then he nodded to the left. “This here is where we’re going to stop for lunch and a rest.”
He swung out of his saddle like he’d done it a hundred thousand times in the past, and he immediately moved to help Granddad down. Thankfully, that gave Cora at least a whole minute to figure out how to get out of her saddle without falling on her face.
She accomplished it, and moved to help Jeremy with the reins of Momma’s horse. He grinned at her and took both steeds over to a patch of shade where they could graze, and Cora turned to find Boston bustling around.
He unstrapped something from the side of his saddle, and the next thing she knew, a chair materialized. “Here you go, Darren, sir,” he said, and Granddad gave him a grateful smile as he sank into the chair.
Boston got three more chairs out, and Momma sat down about the time he collected an armful of firewood from the saddlebag of her horse. Cora stood there and watched him, marveling at the quick ease with which he moved, at how adepthe was to existing outdoors, at how much he’d been able to pack into the bags the horses carried.
Momma and Granddad talked in soft voices, and Jeremy tried to help Boston. “No, I got it,” the cowboy said as he crouched to light the fire. Cora couldn’t believe anyone could do that, but within sixty seconds, Boston had bright orange flames licking up into the blue sky.
He glanced over to her, and their eyes locked. He straightened, dusted his hands together, and came toward her, all with those gorgeous blue eyes on her. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low enough to not be overheard. “There’s a chair for you.”
Cora wasn’t sure why she suddenly felt like crying. She’d done very little that day, besides getting dressed and showing up on time. She looked into the depths of his eyes, imagining herself floating in cool, cool water.
“You have really pretty eyes,” she said, the words just spilling from her throat.
Boston smiled and ducked his head. “Thanks. I get ‘em from my momma.” He lifted his gaze back to hers. “And my daddy too, I guess. My biological one. He lives in Pinecrest. Florida? I think you came from the Miami area, didn’t you?”
Cora nodded, everything inside her coiled tight. “Yes,” she said. “I lived in South Miami, actually.”
Boston nodded. “I’ve been there. It has a fun downtown vibe.”
Cora found herself smiling. “You’re right. It does.”
He nodded his cowboy hat back toward the fire. “Come sit down. I’ll get lunch together.”
“I’m actually supposed to be learning from you,” Cora said. “So maybe you could show me how you made those saddlebags into Mary Poppins bags.”
Boston tilted his head back and threw a laugh up into the sky. Oh, he couldn’t do that. One, Momma would hear him and look this way. Then she’d see Cora flirting with Boston, which she couldn’t even believe she was doing.
Two, Cora would hear that rich, beautiful sound every time the silence crowded in too close.
