The Trouble With Cowgirls

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He started his truck with no real direction in mind but somehow found himself pulling in front of Lucy’s cottage fifteen minutes later. He hadn’t noticed her watching him from the porch while he gathered up his nerve to talk to her. Wonderful. Now he had some explaining to do.

He climbed out of his truck and silently joined her on the front porch, watching the sun make its final descent beyond the horizon.

“I was just sitting here thinking about you.” Her admission offered him a little more confidence.

“What a coincidence,” Lane said. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Lucy faced him, her head still resting against the rocking chair. “I was remembering the first sunset I saw in this country.”

“That was with me, wasn’t it?”

Lucy nodded, a slow, easy smile forming as she closed her eyes. “My first night in Texas. I was in Ramblewood Park eating ice cream and you sat beside me on the bleachers.”

“I can still remember how nervous I was to talk to you.” He watched her smile broaden as her eyes opened lazily. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her—slowly, as though they had all the time in the world to experience each other all over again.

“You and I had a good thing once.” She turned back to the horizon. As soon as she’d broken eye contact, he ached for it again.

It was every man’s fantasy to hear his first love admit she still thought of him, but Lane wasn’t prepared for the pain of actually hearing the words. “We were kids. Neither one of us knew what we were doing or where we were going. I won’t deny what I felt for you was real, because it was, but as much as I’d love to go back in time, we’re not those people anymore.”

“I’d like to think we’re better,” she said.

“I’ll give you that.” He reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. The instant he touched her, Lane knew he shouldn’t have come. He needed to get in his truck and leave her and the past alone before his heart paid the price again.

“And stronger,” Lucy said as she withdrew from him, resting her hands on her lap.

“Don’t forget wiser. Although that might be debatable on my part right about now.” Lane laughed at the irony of his own words. He attempted to will himself off the porch and back to the bunkhouse without success. This was a mistake.

“What am I doing wrong?” Lucy asked while gazing out into the fields before them.

Lane wondered if it was a rhetorical question or if he should answer. “In regards to what?”

“Everything. My daughter misses her father and hates me because I moved us to America. My new job’s a bit overwhelming and I have feelings for you that I’ve never been able to get rid of.”

Lane blew out a breath. “I see you haven’t lost your brutal honesty. Do you really want me to answer your question?”

“Go for it.” Lucy’s eyes connected with his and for a moment, he envisioned kissing her.

Lane turned his rocking chair toward her. “For starters, I think all kids hate their parents.” He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, allowing its silkiness to slide through his fingers before retreating. “You could move her to the other side of the world or make the wrong thing for breakfast and probably get the same reaction. We did it. Our parents did it. It’s human nature. Carina’s had a lot more to deal with than most kids her age. Please don’t get mad at me for asking, but have you considered a child psychologist to give her someone neutral to talk to?”

“I tried that in Italy but all she did was sit in the chair and stare at the wall. She refused to talk. When Carina shuts you out, you’re shut out. I haven’t found a way to get through to her yet. I hear her talk to the animals all the time, but I’m sure that’s because she can say what she wants to them and they won’t repeat it.”

“Talking to animals sounds like normal childhood behavior to me. Lord knows I did it.” Lane welcomed her willingness to confide in him about Carina, but he couldn’t help wondering why she wasn’t talking to Ella instead of him. “Learning your new job will take some time. You’re not going to want to hear it, but this is exactly why people apprentice for this position.”

Lucy sighed and shook her head.

“Hey, you asked.” He might want Lucy to give up her job, but not if it meant her giving up on herself. “Look at how long I’ve been doing this—and according to your cousin, I’m still not ready. It’s not going to be easy. I’m not saying you can’t do it—I’m just saying you need to focus on one particular task at a time. I don’t know what they taught you in school, but, honey, this job takes years to learn and decades to master. You can’t squeeze it into a couple of training sessions.”