Page 20 of Cowboy's Christmas Girlfriend

8

Suzanna woke at first light on the day of the interview, full of nervous energy. She buried her face in the pillow, hoping sleep would come back for her, but her stomach was jumping with twitchy electricity.

In truth, it had been since leaving the old barn the afternoon before. She sure hadn’t expected to make love with Will. That wasn’t part of their arrangement. But, damn, it had been amazing. She closed her eyes, remembering how his hands felt on her, the expression on his face when he'd looked down at her. He’d made her feel beautiful.

She sighed, reminding herself not to read too much into it. They’d returned to the house afterwards and pretended like nothing had happened in front of his family. That’s what she had to continue to do. She needed to focus on why she was here in Montana. Everything rode on today. It was her moment to shine. Or her moment to blow it all, bring her castle of lies crashing down about her ears.

“You can do this,” she whispered, and gulped back sudden nausea. She stood and went to the mirror and looked herself up and down. “You can be whoever you want to be,” she told her reflection. “You can—

—lose the weight—

She frowned as her mother’s voice unexpectedly cut into her thoughts. She brushed it aside.

“You can be a rancher,” she said, more firmly this time. “You just have to believe it.”

She got dressed in the dim light and tiptoed downstairs, out the front door and into the day. She needed a walk, space to clear her head and focus on what she had to do.

“Headed to the stables?”

Suzanna jerked where she stood, then smiled at the sight of one of Will’s ranch hands—a grandfatherly man who’d been working on the ranch longer than Will had been alive. “Morning, Gus,” she said. “I thought I’d take a walk, get myself some fresh air.”

“None fresher than here.” Gus drew a deep breath and let it out, satisfied. “Will went out a while ago. You might catch him if you hurry.”

Suzanna nodded her thanks and started down the track. She passed Sarah digging her truck from a snowdrift and stopped for a chat, and to lend a hand. Will’s foreman, Kurt, was out hauling feed, and he gave her a friendly nod as he passed her by. Almost like home, she thought—only, who’d smile and wave to her back in Miami? She had friends, of course, but she’d struggle to put a name to even one of her neighbors. She could walk down the beach till she hit the lighthouse without clapping eyes on a familiar face.

She passed by the frozen pond and its clutch of snowy houses, and made her way down to the rows of cowsheds. Will’s truck was parked out front, the air shimmering over the engine as the heat dispersed. Here was her chance to grab a minute with him alone, maybe share a morning kiss.

“Will?” Suzanna called out a greeting, jogging across the yard. Nobody answered, but voices drifted from the shed, Will’s and one other, one she’d heard before.

“You need to make a decision,” said this second voice, and where had she heard it? Will mumbled something, too low to hear. Suzanna stepped forward, straining to hear. She wasn’t eavesdropping, exactly. She was just in the area. Not sneaking around, not trying to hide her presence. It wasn’t her fault they were talking so loud.

“I’m not trying to pressure you.” The voice was closer now, heading for the doors. “But if you want to jump on this, now is the time. Come spring, you’ll have cows to tag, all the damage from the snowmelt. You’ll have brush to clear, weeds to spray, all kinds of—”

“I know,” said Will. “This is my ranch. I know how to run it. But this is a big change, a massive investment. I’d bring Dad in on it, but he’s been retired a while now. By the time he got caught up...”

In the shed, plastic crackled, cutting Will off mid-thought. Suzanna eased closer, holding her breath.

“—which is why you’re bringing me in to run point on this.” The stranger’s voice rose in triumph, and Suzanna remembered—the bar, karaoke night, her and Will caught backstage.

“You’re George,” she whispered. “That’s your name, George.”

“Look, I’ve got this,” said George. “We did this in business school—pros and cons, risk assessment. I could round up a focus group, folks with HVAC systems. Folks who’ve taken the plunge, and we’ll see what they think. How does that grab you?”

Will rustled more plastic, maybe thinking it over. “That sounds good,” he said. “Listen, I’ve got to meet Suzanna for her interview. I’ll get back to you later and we’ll hash out the details.”

Suzanna ducked down quickly, pretending to lace up her boot. Will emerged moments later and did a double take.

“Suzanna? What’re you doing here?”

“I was out for a walk and I spotted your truck.” She got to her feet. “To be honest, I was wondering, are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“What, with the interview?” Will bent to catch her eye, but Suzanna looked away.

“Is this too much to ask of you? It’s one thing for me to lie, to go on record with my pants on fire, but asking you to join in—”

“You didn’t ask. I offered.” Will took her hand, patted it through her glove. “This was my idea, remember? You lie for me, I lie for you, and we both go home happy.” He smiled, warm and confident, and Suzanna’s objections died away. If Will was truly okay with this...

“Soundbites, remember?” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Funny stories are good, little bite-sized facts. Tell ’em what you’ve learned, why you love this place.”

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