Page 45 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

Keep moving. Don’t look up. You’ll be fine.

A day had passed, and Willow had done what she’d been hired to do: cook, cook, and cook some more. She kept her eyes trained on the plate in front of her, then the next plate, and the next, and the next.

As usual this time of evening, the ranch house buzzed with the low thrum of boots, clinking silverware, and the steady high-pitched scrape of wooden chairs against worn floors.

Supper had begun and Willow fussed over the buffet and the ranch hands, spooning heaping scoops of mashed potatoes and ladling warm, savory gravy on top. Eli held court at one end of the table, telling a tall tale followed by an eruption of laughter.

She hadn’t seen Chance in more than a day. In past months, she might not have noticed, but now?

His absence stung.

Sleep had eluded her last night, her mind replaying snippets from the past few weeks: frolicking in the old olive grove, her surprise of seeing Chance emerge from the sea, that time his strong arms kept her from falling into the creek bed outside of church, and, of course, the morning she’d caught him making a mess in her kitchen.

Oh, how that devilish grin of his faded as he dug his dirty dishes out of the sink and dutifully added them to the dishwasher …

She released a breath in an attempt to clear her mind. With an empty platter in hand, Willow ducked into the kitchen to retrieve more herbed chicken. She was back there only a minute or two when she noticed a shift in energy, a change in the din from chaotic to controlled.

No doubt, Chance had arrived.

She pushed through the café doors and allowed her gaze to find him moving through the small crowd. Her stomach gave a nervous tug. He nodded to Rafael, who had only arrived a few minutes before, then paused to say something that made Eli chuckle. She snapped her sights back to the buffet table, keeping herself occupied with refilling bowls and shuffling dishes.

No sense dredging back up the awkwardness of the other night, and yet she wondered …

Was he still thinking about what she’d said? Or worse—about what she had hidden from him? And Ace?

Willow surveyed the picked-over buffet table, then smoothed a shaky hand down the front of her apron.

“Any more gravy, Miss Willow?” one of the younger hands called out.

She nodded. “Yes, of course.” She slipped back into the kitchen to fetch the gravy, grateful for a quick break. When she returned, Chance had claimed a spot at the end of the table facing her. His gaze met hers, but she looked away.

That queasy feeling from earlier, the one in the very pit of her stomach, raised her anxiety again.

She refilled the gravy tureen, served the last plate, and stepped back into the kitchen with absolutely no appetite of her own. She’d already filled and run the dishwasher earlier, so the soft hiss of it kept her company. Wiping her hands again on her apron, she waited for the buzz from the dining room to erupt and clear out.

With her foot tapping nervously beneath her, she tried not to think of what haunted her from the other night. It wasn’t the omission of information itself. Honestly, she hadn’t thought it was anyone’s business to know her family’s situation.

But now what bothered her most was realizing her selfishness. She began putting away unused pans and dishes. How would it look to outsiders that Ace Sutter was employing a woman whose family had disgraced itself so?

Remorse twisted inside of her, followed by the very real possibility that her time at the ranch was fading away. The thought of losing her home, and her new family, made her want to crumble into a bucket of tears right here in this kitchen, but she would not have it! Willow set a platter down onto the counter with a clatter. She inhaled deeply. Since when had she let emotion get to her like this?

The door swung open, and she turned with a start.

“Hey.” Chance stepped inside.

She straightened, putting on the most unemotional expression she could. “Need something?”

“Yes.”

She waited.

“Your time.”

She licked her lips, giving him a perfunctory nod. “The guys’ll be done soon, so I only have a minute.”

He took a step toward her. “That’s a start.”

“If you’re here to say I should talk to Ace before he hears from someone else?—”

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