Page 83 of Nanny for the Cowboy

As I go for my drink, a whiskey neat, my mind slips back to the story about Clover. For whatever reason, it won’t let me go.

I’m just so upset that Clover stopped singing because of peer pressure and cruel high schoolers who probably hated their lives, too.

Goddamn shame. She could’ve done so much with that voice of hers. Well, I won’t let this second chance be spoiled.

It hits me that I’m real damn invested in Clover’s singing career—if we can even call it that. Still, that I need to be there for her and ensure that this performance goes as smoothly as possible, is like a burning compulsion that fires through my veins.

I know I see potential in her. Clover has an amazing voice, and I’m the type of person who wants to see others succeed when they have something to offer.

It’s why I always bring on help for the ranch from the people around me, the people who just need to catch a break.

But is there more to this than that?

That’s the stupidest question you’ve ever asked yourself, Brooks.

Because, of course, there is. I may have been trying to “play it cool” and “see where things go,” but where they’ve gone is exactly where I knew they would—straight to my heart.

Icareabout Clover. I want to see her succeed. I want to see her happy. And sure, I could play that off like I’m just her friend or say that we’ve just gotten close over these past few weeks.

But I’d only be kidding myself.

My chest squeezes, and I sip at my whiskey, not really paying attention to the conversation around me. I offer the occasional nod or non-commital noise, but I’m not there.

I’m somewhere far,faraway.

And then my eyes swivel over to the side of the stage just as Clover steps up from somewhere in the back. She’s wearing her usual clothing, but she’s done a bit of makeup and styled her strawberry-blonde curls.

That pinch in my chest doubles down, my heartbeat kicking up slightly.

Her eyes find mine as if she could sense me watching her. As Clover looks over, she smiles, giving me a tiny wave.

Her grin is so bright, so beautiful, and I return it. The look of nervousness on her face softens, and I just smile bigger, giving her a little thumbs up.

“Oh, Dad, is that Clover!?” Darby asks excitedly.

“Yeah.” I nod, my eyes leaving Clover’s for only a moment before I pin my stare on her again. “I think she’s about to go on.”

“You’re awesome, Clover!” Darby shouts, and she laughs.

It gets me laughing, too, and soon Leo is joining us.My son really loves her.

The thought strikes a chord. Darby loves Clover. Not likes, not tolerates, or mildly appreciates. Helovesher.

And I think I have to come clean and admit something to myself. I might just be falling in love with her, too.

As she grins at me, Rosie taps her on the shoulder and gestures to the stage. She’s going to go up there and perform now.

Clover nods, looking back at me one more time before she faces the stage and steels herself. I know that at that moment—hell, at any moment—I’d break my arm again to make sure this goes perfectly for her.

You are so fucked.

THIRTY

Clover

My entire body is trembling as I step up to the edge of the stage, about to go on.

“Thank you everyone for coming out tonight!” Rosie calls out, and I do my best to smile despite the way I can feel my pulse in my throat. “You’re in for a treat, folks, because returning for another showstopper after her success at the fair is Clover Joy! Everyone give her a big hand!”

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