Page 65 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his eyes scanning her face, as if waiting for a sign.

And then it came.

Her eyes filled, and he leaned in, steady and strong, and kissed her.

There was nothing rushed or reckless about it. Rather, sweet and intentional. When she’d leaned into him, his hand found the back of her neck, cupping it protectively, and his mouth discovered hers, his kiss warm and sure.

The ocean roared in the distance, even while their world narrowed to a party of two.

Willow responded before her thoughts could catch up, her hand pressing against the front of his shirt, her lips answering with all the longing she hadn’t dared voice. The horses shifted slightly beneath them, but neither one moved to break the kiss.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead lightly against hers, his breath heavy, like he’d run a race.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Chance murmured. “Not yet. Just … let me love you, Willow. However you need. However long it takes.”

Her heart thudded like a cacophony of booming fireworks. She was out of breath. She was filled with both joy—and dread. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered, picturing the simple life that was both at hand, and still terribly out of reach.

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, then cupped her face with his hands. “You deserve everything I can give you.”

The tears she’d been holding back slipped down her cheeks in rivulets. As they sat wrapped in the hush of the evening, she let herself believe that maybe love could grow, even in uncertain soil—if only she could stop looking over her shoulder long enough to let it flourish.

Chapter 10

Willow walked the line between two older trees, adjusting the tubing she’d snaked out from the test irrigation setup that Rafael had picked up for them. A couple of ranch hands had made sure the water source was sure and open for her, but she’d asked them to leave the coiled-up tubing for her to lay out as she had planned. Every drop that reached the roots was a quiet act of restoration.

She crouched near one of the stronger saplings, testing the dampness of the soil with her fingers. Rich and dark, it held water. She smiled inwardly. A small win.

A crunch of ground pricked her ears. “Willow?”

Just the scrape of that old, familiar voice made her stomach churn. Her body stiffened, and her lungs constricted. She reached for a breath, rising slowly, dirt clinging to her hands. Her heart began to race.

The sun was behind him, making his face difficult to read at first, but that gnarled smile was unmistakable.

“Uncle Ray.”

He wore crisp jeans, a tucked-in shirt that hadn’t seen a day of labor, and a belt buckle that gleamed. One hand tossed a baseball lazily into the other, the thump of leather on skin, taunting. His expression flickered between a well-practiced smile and the calculating glint of someone who’d shown up with an agenda.

“Didn’t mean to spook you. Just thought I’d drop in.” He glanced around. “Couldn’t reach you by phone.”

“You mean I hung up on you.”

“Not very polite of you, niece.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Willow said, her voice tight. “This is private property.”

“Oh, come on now.” He took a step forward, spreading his arms. “It’s not like I came to cause trouble. Just wanted to talk. Catch up.”Thump, thump, thump.

She stepped back instinctively, glancing toward the barn far in the distance. No one was in sight. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Sure we do.” His voice dipped, oily again. “I’ll make it simple. You’ve got options, Willow. A little help from you could go a long way for me. And really, what’s a few thousand bucks between family?”

She felt the panic begin to rise in her chest, hot and sudden. “No.”

“I’m not trying to be difficult.” His eyes flicked over the grove. “It’s a nice setup you’ve got here. Would be a shame if someone came snooping around.”

Her voice rose. “You need to go, Uncle. Now!”

Gravel crunched. Boots approached. They weren’t alone.

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