Page 39 of Cowboy's Healing Heart

I watch her, struck by the tenderness in her voice. "She's a great kid. You've done an amazing job with her."

Krystal looks up at me, her eyes shining. "Thanks. It hasn't been easy, but... she's worth it. She's everything to me."

I want to tell her how much I admire her strength and how I want to be there for both of them. But I won't make a promise I can't keep.

Instead, I clear my throat and nod towards the book in her hands. "We should get that for her, and some art supplies. A little surprise for when we get back."

Krystal's smile is radiant. "She'd love that."

As we continue our exploration of downtown, I find myself opening up more than I have in years. I tell her about my time in the military, the camaraderie, and the loss. I skirt around the details of my family and my life in New York, but I share enough to feel exposed.

Krystal listens intently, her hand warm in mine. When I finish talking, she squeezes my fingers gently.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," she says softly. "I can't imagine what you've experienced."

I shrug, feeling vulnerable but strangely light. "It's easier with you."

Krystal's eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I think she might kiss me. But then her walls go back up.

"We should probably grab some dinner," she says, her voice slightly strained.

I nod, trying to hide my disappointment. "Sure. I know a great place nearby."

Walking to the restaurant, I want to pull her close to tell her how I feel. But I hold back, afraid of pushing too far too fast.

The restaurant is cozy and intimate, with soft lighting and quiet music. We're seated at a corner table, and as I look at Krystal across from me, I'm struck by how beautiful she is. The candlelight flickers across her face, highlighting the curve of her cheek and the fullness of her lips.

"What?" she asks, noticing my stare.

I shake my head, smiling. "Nothing. You just... you look beautiful tonight."

A blush creeps across her cheeks, and she ducks her head. "Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself, Kennedy."

As we eat, the conversation flows easily. We talk about our childhoods, our dreams, our fears. I find myself sharing more than I intended, drawn in by her warmth and openness.

"So, what made you decide to come to Silver Creek?" Krystal asks, taking a sip of her wine.

I hesitate, weighing my words carefully. "I needed a change. After leaving the military, I just... I couldn't go back to my old life. I needed something different."

She nods, understanding in her eyes. "I get that. Sometimes you just need a fresh start."

"What about you?" I ask, leaning forward. "How did you end up there?"

A shadow passes over her face, and I immediately regret the question. But then she takes a deep breath and meets my gaze.

"It's complicated," she says softly. "But basically, I needed a safe place for Ashanti and me. Somewhere, we could start over."

I want to ask more to understand what she's running from. But I can see the pain in her eyes, and I don't want to push.

Instead, I reach across the table and take her hand. "Well, I'm glad you ended up at Silver Creek. I can't imagine not knowing you and Ashanti."

Krystal's smile is soft and genuine. "Me too, Shane. Me too."

As we finish dinner, I'm not ready for the night to end. So, I suggest we grab a drink at a nearby bar. Krystal eagerly agrees.

The bar is crowded and lively, with music pulsing through the air. We find a spot at the counter, and I order us both whiskey neat.

Krystal raises an eyebrow. "Trying to get me drunk, Kennedy?"

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