Page 11 of My Cowboy Salvation
Carol tilts her head, and I fight an intense desire to run from such scrutiny. “Well, if you’re just looking for the odd job to earn some quick cash, maybe I can help you out. What can you do?”
What can I do? Playing the cello for a standard symphony orchestra doesn’t exactly seem like a skill that would be valuable here. “Probably most anything.” I think about the flyers in the back. “Except for maybe roofing.”
“Do you know anything about horses?”
Horses? Not a thing other than I’ve never been on or around one in my life. But there’s always a first. “No, but I’m a quick learner.”
Carol nods. “Let me check around. Why don’t you come back tomorrow around the same time? I’ll see what I can find.”
It seems almost too good to be true that some stranger would offer to help me out. And maybe it is. Maybe she’ll come up empty-handed, but I don’t really have anything to lose now.
“That would be great. Thank you, Carol.”
She smiles almost conspiratorially back at me. “Enjoy your donut, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
There isa definite nip in the air as I slip down the stairs early Saturday morning. I wonder if I should just bite the bullet and spend some of my last few dollars on a warm jacket. Especially since with this new job that Carol found for me, I’ll likely spend a lot of time outside. On a ranch, no less. One filled with horses and cattle and everything I imagined finding in Montana. I just hope I don’t make a total idiot of myself before the day is over.
As I reach the kitchen, I hear movement that assures me Logan is here. The past few days he’s worked late and left early, not leaving me any opportunity to talk to him about this new endeavor. I need to ask him if the offer to make use of his truck is still good, so I made sure I got up early enough to head him off before he could leave.
His back is to me as I step into the kitchen, and for a minute I stare at the breadth of his shoulders, the strength in his arms even though he’s merely pouring a cup of coffee. Then there’s the delectable roundness of his butt that makes me think he has to do a lot more than sit at a desk to keep up that kind of physique.
He must have heard me because when he turns around, he doesn’t appear surprised. He smiles, and I’m caught up in the depth of those blue eyes. “Morning, Dylan. You’re up early.”
“I didn’t know what your schedule was today, and I wanted to be sure I caught you before you left.”
“It’s a little more relaxed on weekends, although there are town events I like to put an appearance in, as well as a stop at the station for an hour or two to touch base. So what do you need to talk to me about?” He leans against the counter, crossing his legs in front of him as he studies me.
“I found a job. Or rather, Carol found me a job. Doing some work for a Hope McCullough?” I say, but it sounds more like a question.
“For Hope? Interesting.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “There’s plenty of coffee if you want some.”
“Thanks.” I step next to him to fill up a mug. “You know Hope, I take it?”
He nods. “Hope runs an equine therapy program out on the McCullough ranch. She’s the stepsister of an old Army buddy of mine, and her dad, Horace McCullough, helped me get the chief job a couple of years ago. Hope’s great. She’ll treat you right.”
“Good to know,” I say, trying to tamp down an irrational sense of jealousy at his familiarity with this Hope McCullough as I add some milk to my coffee. “Would you mind if I take you up on that invitation to borrow your truck? The ranch is a bit far for walking.”
“The invitation is always open, but I was meaning to get out and visit Horace this weekend. Why don’t I drive you? I can swing by and pick you up when you’re finished.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I say quickly, not wanting to take any more of this man’s time than I already have, even if the fact he’s offering gives me an unexpected thrill. “I’m sure I can find it on my own once you’ve given me the directions.”
“Like I said, I was planning on stopping there either way. I promised my buddy I’d check in on his family from time to time, so you’d be doing me a favor, giving me a reason to stop by.”
If he’s going to put it that way, then I would look stupid to continue arguing. “Okay. That would be nice. Thanks.”
“We can leave in fifteen.” He turns to rinse his cup out and place it in the sink. “Or will you need more time?”
“Fifteen is plenty of time.”
“I’ll meet you out front when you’re ready.”
Logan is standing next to the truck when I come out a few minutes later. “Here,” he says, holding something out to me. “It might be a bit big on you, but it should keep you warm if you need it.”
“Thank you.” I take it and hold it up. It’s a dark blue flannel shirt—a shirt that can only belong to him. I force myself to tuck it under an arm instead of holding it to my face to inhale his scent. I can do that later.
Logan takes his time pulling out, giving me some general instructions on operation that, like he said, were pretty straightforward. Then we’re on our way, the sound of the radio filling the quiet cab. It’s not an awkward silence, strangely enough, as we drive, my eyes wandering the landscape beyond the passenger window, and I would be happy to continue in silence if I wasn’t curious to know more about him. “So what brought you to Castle Falls in the first place? Aren’t you originally from California?”
