Page 26 of Christmas with the Cowgirl
That was a ridiculous thought, that a man like that would get any of her attention.Unless it was to figure out a way to slap him down to an ordinary, in-touch-with-humanity guy.
She nearly laughed at the thought, remembering how, when they’d brushed fingers as she’d handed him that big piece of cake, she’d felt the strongest urge to go wash her hands.But then Miles had shown up to deal with the clown.And he had, rather nicely.
Your problem is that you think there have to be two sides.
What he’d said ran through her mind again.She tried to picture surviving in his business with that philosophy.She’d like to think there were places, or at least projects, where people did, but it was hard to picture.But then, what did she know?True, she’d picked up a bit from talking with Nic, who’d had the same kind of ideas about that world, before Jackson had upended her thinking.
And Jackson had chosen to work with Miles.So that should be worth something, shouldn’t it?
She spent the rest of the day doing chores and telling herself it did not, after all, matter if Miles Flint was what he appeared to be.At least, it didn’t matter to her.It was entirely possible she would never see him again, or if she did it would be over at the Baylors’ at some function, or at the wedding.
The wedding.
She sighed inwardly.And instead of dwelling on being a forty-two-year-old, never-married woman, she made herself focus on something she could—had to—do something about.Like a wedding gift for two people who already had pretty much everything.Jackson and Nic had each other, they had Jeremy, and nowThorpe’s Therapy Horses, a cause dear to both of them.The thing that mattered most to them, outside of their families.
The thing that mattered most…
She gave the wrench in her hand a final turn and straightened up from adding her gadget to the spigot that filled the watering trough in the main corral.She stood there, turning the idea that had just occurred to her over and over in her mind.And the more she thought about it, the more she liked it.She’d talk to Dad—Rocket—about it, tonight over dinner, but she thought he’d agree.
She smiled, feeling as if a load had been lifted.She’d call Ace this evening and get it set up, to begin the day of the wedding.Or maybe between that day and Christmas, to cover both, given that those two with the wicked sense of humor had decided to get married five days before Christmas.
“That way there’s never an excuse for Jackson to forget our anniversary,” Nic had said when she’d told her the plan.
“As if he ever would,” Riley had countered.“That man is bonkers over you, woman.”
She would never forget the look that came over her friend’s face in that moment.A look of utter happiness and love.
A look she herself would likely never wear in her entire life.
You’re much better off than a lot of people.
The acknowledgment of that, even though true, was wearing a bit thin these days.Probably because she’d been using it a lot lately.
Like ever since she’d met Miles Flint.
With an effort she shoved away that idea.She checked the faucet off her to-do list, making the mental note to check back regularly on how her new gizmo was working, and moved on to the next thing.Maybe if she cleaned enough stalls, shoveled enough manure, her suddenly recalcitrant brain would settle back into safer paths.This was her life, and she loved it.Even the shoveling.Because with every stall she cleaned she got to spend time renewing acquaintance with the occupant, and from her own precious King to Dad’s retired roan mare, she treasured them all.
And so she began anew, after making a mental note to herself to point out once more to her currently cranky father that she knew exactly how much work he did around here, because she was doing most of it herself since he’d been laid up.And that was on top of picking up the slack for their foreman Ed Montez and his sons who were also hands, but who were rightfully glued to their wife and mother’s hospital bedside after her heart surgery, it was exhausting.
With a silent wish that Marguerite be all right, and her dad be back on his feet when predicted, she headed for the tool cupboard and that shovel.
As tired as she was by the end of the day, she should have fallen right to sleep.But her brain couldn’t seem to find the off switch, and instead she was tossing and turning as if her usually comfortable bed was one of rocks.
She sat up, flipped on the bedside lamp, and rubbed at her eyes.The yawn that overtook her was so big she got a little irritated.How could she be this tired and not sleep?
Her gaze fell on the charcoal drawing on the wall.Which of course sent her mind back to those moments when this space had been invaded.She’d found herself wishing seriously her plans to expand this, her childhood room, into a full-on master suite, were already completed before her visitors arrived.But then she’d been filled with doubt that a bigger space would have made any difference.
Not that she minded Jeremy—she was quite smitten with the boy who had drawn her that sweet picture.But Miles Flint was a different story.He made her edgy to begin with, but having him in her bedroom, even innocently, started her imagination down paths it was best she didn’t travel.He seemed to fill the space with his presence, until she’d felt an almost physical pressure.
She dived for the remote control of the TV she rarely used in here, got up to open the cabinet it was in, then dived back into the warm bed and began searching for distraction.When she hit what was an apparent re-streaming of all seasons ofStonewallshe hit the “move on” button immediately.But then, not quite sure why, she went back.
Unlike many in Last Stand—particularly Nic—she hadn’t disliked the show, in fact had found it rather engrossing with its multiple points of view and storylines.She just had to put out of her mind that it was supposed to be Texas.
It was strange to see Jackson on screen, she had to admit.He seemed such a different person than the Austin Holt character he portrayed.Yet she could see the solid, steadfast core she had come to know in Jackson in the portrayal as well.And she had the feeling that were he to go back to that part now, there would be new layers, added depth, because now he had firsthand experience on a real Texas ranch.
She found herself watching until the end of the episode.Then, as an ingrained action, her finger moved to the button that would call up another platform.But then she froze.As she never had before, she watched as the credits rolled.Watched for the man she couldn’t seem to get out of her head.And when she saw that name fill the screen, rating its own solo slot, she had the oddest feeling of…something.
Maybe she’d needed the reminder of who he was.That he was Someone in that world, someone whose name opened doors, and wallets.And that he’d accomplished it at a young age.
