Page 3 of The Cowboy Contract
Hopefully she’d be a good influence on them. Unfortunately, the odds weren’t in Isla’s favor. Chances were high she’d be the one influenced.
Or corrupted, depending on how you looked at things.
“There she is.” Gertrude wrapped one arm around the young woman. “You meet any handsome cowboys on your way to the bathroom?”
Isla’s cheeks pinked up the tiniest bit. “I did not.” Her dark eyes skimmed the sea of Wranglers and Stetsons. “Pretty sure I’m not really on their radars.”
“Then they’re idiots.” Agnes tipped her head to one side. “Which is probably accurate.”
“It’s fine.” Isla slid onto the stool next to Muriel. “I should probably be focused on my job anyway.” Her hesitant smile turned to the women at the table. “And all my new friends.”
A pit formed in Paige’s gut at Isla’s words. She’d been so much like her ten years ago. Quiet. Shy. A decade of focus on everything except her nonexistent social life.
And look where it landed her. Thirty-five. Single for her entire adult life. Spending her evenings cleaning up broken glass and cowboy puke.
“I gotta get back to the bar.” Paige slid Isla’s soda onto the table and left, weaving back through the crowd filling her bank account but draining her tank.
The rest of the night passed the same way it started. More dropped drinks. More unruly ranch hands. More minutes counting down to closing time.
Then she’d get to drive home to her empty house and sleep alone in her empty bed.
Except there probably wouldn’t be much sleeping tonight. Tonight she’d lay awake and think about all the mistakes she’d made. All the opportunities she’d missed. But mostly, she’d think about the agreement she made a decade ago.
An agreement only she remembered.
After everyone had cleared out and all the lights were shut off, she collected her keys and purse and ducked out into the night, head down as she hiked across the empty lot to her car. She was nearly there when an odd light flared, illuminating a spot beside her driver’s door. Her steps slowed, but the rate of her heart picked up as a familiar face flickered into view.
“Leland?” She took a shaky breath, creeping closer. “What are you doing out here?”
He was still in uniform, the dark color of the fabric making him blend in with the night. But she didn’t need to see him to know how the muscles of his shoulders fought against the seams of his fitted uniform shirt. Didn’t need light to map out the vein running down his forearm. She knew almost every inch of him by heart.
“Waiting for you.” Leland held up the glowing item in his hand, balancing the sprinkle covered cupcake on his open palm. “Happy birthday, Paige.”
2
Leland
“UNCLE LELAND.”
The sound of his niece’s high-pitched holler carrying through the morning air had him spinning fast and bracing for impact.
As he expected, Rosemary was running across the fallen leaves scattered across his backyard, little arms stretched up in the air. As soon as she was within jumping distance, the stinker pushed her light-up sneakers against the ground, launching her small body at him without fear or a healthy respect for gravity.
He dropped the rope in his hand, glad he’d pulled out the better behaved of his two horses that morning for his ride of solitude and misery. By some miracle, he managed to catch his niece’s squirming body. Holding her at arm’s length, Leland served up the most serious look he could muster.
“What did I tell you about jumping like that?” He tossed her up into the air, earning a squeal, before catching her again.
“You said I had to warn you a’fore I did it ‘cause you’re getting old and slow.” Rosemary giggled as he tossed and caught her again. “That’s why I yelled your name.”
“I think we might have to go over a list of acceptable warnings.” After swinging her through the air one last time, he settled the gangly four-year-old over one shoulder, holding her like a sack of potatoes as he picked up Huck’s lead from where he’d left it dangling. “Where’s your mama?”
“She’s in the house changing Will’s diaper.” Rosemary made a disgusted sound. “He took a big shit.”
A bark of laughter jumped out before he could stop it. His pistol of a niece didn’t need any encouragement, but damned if he could keep a straight face when she let a curse word fly in that tiny little voice of hers. “I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to say that.”
“But Daddy says it,” she pleaded her case with a whine. “He saysshitall the time.”
The kid had a point.
