Page 1 of A Cowboy's Trust
1
Tansy Fields applied the final layer of her lipstick with a delicate touch, fingers steady as a rock. The only signs of the excitement racing through her system were the flush on her cheeks and the delight in her eyes reflected back in the hall mirror.
The end of the year usually involved a lot of thinking back and planning ahead, but tonight seemed extra special. All week she’d been enjoying a series ofone last timemoments, and now she was less than twenty-four hours away from a shiny, clean start.
She rushed through the door of her apartment above the Buns and Roses café, all but skipping along the back passageway to the staircase that led down to the local pub.
Last time to walk this way.
A grin stretched her face as the phrase hit again because it was also the last time she’d be able to dothis.
Slipping in the side door of Rough Cut pub wasn’t a thing that everyone in their row of housing on Main Street did, but Tansy liked using the short cut, and it was the last time and all.
The rest of the pub had rock-solid security in place, but this internal door? Not so much. Not for her at least. She flipped open the lock with a quick slip of the nail she kept handy, plus a hint of pressure and a hip bump in the right spot.
As she slid into the back of the pub, pulsating music wrapped around her and filled her head until her entire body was one big heartbeat.
She headed straight for the gathering spot where her friends and family usually landed, even though it would be a smaller group tonight. Her sister, Rose, and her sister’s fiancée, Chance, were out of the county for the holidays. Tansy’s doctor pal, Sydney Jerimiah, had volunteered to pull a shift at the emergency room in nearby Diamond Valley, but Petra would be around somewhere.
Rough Cut was rocking. Not only the music, but it seemed everyone who could had come to celebrate and dance away the old year and welcome in the new.
They couldn’t possibly be as ready for this as Tansy was, though.
“Hey, girl.”
“Tansy. Looking fine.”
“Save me a dance,” called another local cowboy.
Tansy waved in acknowledgment at them all. Hugging a friend here, offering a high five there. She felt so good she even might toss a bone to Bryce tonight. Nice enough guy, terrible dancer. He somehow managed to put an extra half beat into every other measure.
Tansy had standards when it came to dancing.
ItwasNew Year’s Eve, though, which meant she was more than willing to be magnanimous and share the bounty that was her with the rest of the world. There was enough of her awesomeness to go around.
A snort escaped as a shot of self-deprivation slipped in. Right. She was not all that special.
“Bullshit. You’re a rock star, girl,” Tansy offered out loud.
No one here would think anything of her talking to herself, if they heard her in the first place, and there were times she absolutely needed the reminder that shedidbelong. These people weren’t pretending to like her—they really did.
Over twenty years later, it was still hard to turn off the voices in her head put there by people whose only agenda had been to take advantage.
Nope, those were not thoughts that were allowed to intrude on a day like today. This momentous,stepping into the futurekind of day.
“Tansy. Want to dance?” Paul, who rated a seven on the Tansy Dance Scale, smiled at her hopefully.
Tansy generously offered her hand and headed onto the dance floor.
Out among the twirling partners, she got an entirely different perspective of the evening. Quick glimpses slid past of all the local regulars and plenty of visitors as her laughing partner kept up a steady monologue about all the things he had planned for the new year.
Tansy let him rattle on, a smile on her own face plus a nod when it seemed appropriate. But her gaze darted everywhere as her thoughts continued to loop into the future as well.
She was so gosh-darn excited, as she would tell the nieces and nephews. Big sister Ivy wasn’t fond of the swearwords her children had already learned prior to being brought into her and her husband Walker’s protective embrace. Tansy didn’t want to bethatauntie. Besides, it was fun to make her brother-in-law roll his eyes every time she came up with a new old-fashioned cuss.
Thank God for the internet, that’s all Tansy could say.
She twirled out of the arms of one familiar friend into the next, thoroughly enjoying herself in spite of the stepped-on toes and bruised ankles she’d have by tomorrow. Not curating her list like she usually did was physically dangerous.
