Page 2 of My Cowboy Boss
My sister hiccups softly. “I’m supposed to start that new job.”
My sister lost her previous job because of her asshole ex. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll figure it out. We’ve always gotten through everything together,” I promise her even as a knot formsin my stomach. I know we can’t afford her bills and mine on the little I make working the counter at the coffee shop. I only graduated from college a few months ago and my car needs work sooner rather than later.
“That office manager position on that ranch in Lucky River is my dream job,” she explains.
I know what it means to her. It’s her big F-U to her cheating boyfriend who told her that unlike him, she’d never make it on her own. Kind of ironic given that he’s a nepo baby.
I don’t get a chance to respond before a woman breezes in. “Here’s the insurance card and ID.” She glances down at it, then looks at me as she hands the items over. “Wow. You two could be twins.”
Though there’s a four year age difference between us, my sister and I do look a lot alike. Same hairstyle, same eyes. We even have some of the same mannerisms. She’s a little taller than I am though.
An idea forms. I know my sister won’t like it but it’s the best chance to save the job she wants.
As soon as the woman leaves, I say, “You heard her. We look alike. I can take the job for you.”
“You can’t do that. You don’t have the training or knowledge,” Aspen protests weakly, but I don’t miss the flicker of wishfulness in her voice.
“No, but it’s not as if you’ll be where I can’t reach you. When I have an issue, you’ll be my phone-an-expert,” I reassure her. She’s had such a rough year losing her job and apartment because of that cheating asshole and now this.
If it’ll help Aspen for me to show up and pretend to be her for a little while, then I can manage that.
“But our personalities are different, and we don’t dress anything alike,” she says though the fact she’s even mentioning this instead of outright refusing means she’s considering it.
My sister prefers a classic fashion style while I’m more comfortable in jeans and whatever shirt I find.
“That’s true, but I’ll wear your clothes and heels. Icanbe you, Sis.”
She frowns, then sucks in a breath when it clearly hurts. She blinks back fresh tears. “I maxed out my credit card. I don’t even know how I’m going to pay for these new expenses.”
“That’s another reason I should do this. Now, don’t fret anymore. I’ll be happy to earn money working for a hot cowboy.” I wiggle my eyebrows in the way she always finds amusing.
Aspen barely smiles and holds my gaze as she asks, “And what happens when I’m healed?”
“Then we’ll swap again.” I reach for her hand. “No one will ever know.”
Chapter 2
Flint
Silence. Oppressive, overwhelming silence.I fight my way from beneath the covers, gasping and sweating to stumble from the bed, the floor cool beneath my feet.Another nightmare about The Gentle Children’s Home.
I choke off a bitter laugh. As my brothers and I say whenever the past rears its ugly head, “There was nothing gentle about it.”
A light breeze stirs the curtain through the open window. I like to sleep with the windows open. I need to know that I have a way out. That I’m never trapped again.
It’s still dark out. Morning has yet to break and bring with it a welcoming light to chase away all the shadows.
I turn on the lamp and get jeans and a shirt from the closet. Everything in my room is neat and organized. It has to be. I need cleanliness and order in my environment.
Once I pull on a pair of socks, I make my way down the stairs into the kitchen. There’s an insistent meow as I pull open the drawer where the coffee filters are kept.
“I know. I’m up early.”
My cat, Warrior, acknowledges this by rubbing his head against my shin. The cat survived a coyote attack and is missing half his tail. My brother River found him. He has a habit ofrescuing injured or unwanted animals and doctoring them back to health.
Then they stick to him, following him around like he’s their daddy. Except for Warrior. As soon as he saw me, my furry buddy rushed to my side and hasn’t left since. Maybe he recognized that like him, I was also once injured and unwanted.
I dig out a cat treat for him, and he bumps against my hand before he gobbles it up. He can sense when I’ve had a bad night.
