Page 29 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

“Have you?”

He nodded decisively. “Yes. My memory of my mother makes me, well, it makes me want to do better with this life I’ve been given.”

She watched him quietly, her eyes unwavering. He no longer cared to have the attention on him and what he should or should not have done in his past. Right now, he cared much more about the sadness filling her eyes.

“Tell me aboutyourMom,” he said. “Is she safe where she is? Do you have any qualms about her staying there?”

She hesitated to answer him, her eyes darting off toward the distance. Then she returned his gaze and nodded. “Sorry I disappeared there. It’s just, well, yes, the staff is good to her. She even has a garden view, which I like.”

“I’m sure that helps.”

“It does.” She waved her hand in a sweeping motion. “Something about God’s glory all around does the heart good.”

He caught himself smiling until her expression faltered like a one-two punch to his gut. Something was coiled up tight beneath the surface. He’d noticed it in her cadence when she exited her car, and now again, as she mustered up a smile only to let it fade away with her words.

“You’re not alone, you know,” he blurted. “Even if it feels like it sometimes.” He immediately regretted his words. Wasn’t his place to comment on something so … personal.

Was it?

Willow looked away, blinking fast. “Sometimes I forget what that even means.”

Instinctively, Chance reached out, his fingers brushing her elbow, before he pulled them back. “I mean it.” His resolve to be honest, to be in the moment more often, was growing.

She said nothing, but the creases in her forehead relaxed some. So did her shoulders. A rush of a breeze sent a rustle through the trees.

Willow lifted her chin, a suspicious smile curling her lips. She shaded her eyes with her hand. “Why are you being so kind to me all of a sudden, cowboy?”

A woosh of a sigh escaped him.

He tried to think of something light-hearted to volley back to her, but instead, all he could think of was the truth. “Because I know what it’s like to lose something slowly. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

Her eyes glistened now. “Yeah.” She turned her gaze toward the small cabin she called home, the same one Patsy did while in residence at the ranch.

Quietly, he asked, “Can I walk you back?”

“You may.”

They began to walk in unhurried steps toward the cabin, his mind turning over what he had said to her about losing something slowly. Chance slid a glance at her, her face unreadable.

“Something on your mind?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He chuckled. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

“It’s that, well, I didn’t expect you,” she said.

“Expect me to … what?”

She slowed her steps, and turned a wide-eyed expression on him. “To listen.”

Chance let that settle between them. Light danced across her face exposing her in a new way.

“Ouch.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “It was supposed to be a compliment. I-I’m sorry it didn’t come out that way.”

His arm found her shoulders, and he shushed her gently. “And I was attempting to tease you. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

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