The Cowboy Next Door & Jenna's Cowboy Hero: The Cowboy Next Door / Jenna's Cowboy Hero. Brenda Minton

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СКАЧАТЬ year ago he really had thought that by now he’d be married and living in his new home with a wife and maybe a baby of his own on the way.

      Instead he was back in Gibson and Cindy was on her way to California. She’d been smarter than him; she’d realized three years of dating didn’t equal love. And he was still living in the past, in love with a memory.

      As he passed the store, he saw his mom’s car parked at an angle, between the lines and a little too far back into the street. He smiled, because that was his mom. She lived her life inside the lines, but couldn’t drive or park between them.

      Other than the parking problem, they were a lot alike.

      He drove to the end of the block, then decided to go back. She typically wasn’t in town this time of day. Something must have gone wrong with dinner. He smiled because something usually did go wrong.

      He parked in front of the store and reached for the truck-door handle. He could see his mom inside; she was talking to Lacey Gould. He let go of the door handle and sat back to wait.

      He sat in the truck for five minutes. His mom finally approached the cash register at the single counter in the store. She paid, talked to the cashier for a minute and then walked out the door. Lacey was right behind her.

      Talk about a day going south in a hurry.

      “Jay, you remember Lacey.” Wilma Blackhorse turned a little pink. “Of course you do, you saw her this afternoon.”

      “Mom, we’ve met before.” He had lived in Springfield, not Canada. He’d just never really had a reason to talk to Lacey.

      Until today.

      “Of course you have.” His mom handed him her groceries and then leaned into the truck, resting her arms on the open window. “Well, I just rented her your grandparents’ old house. And since you have tomorrow off, I told her you would help them move.”

      “That really isn’t necessary.” Lacey, dark hair framing her face and brown eyes seeking his, moved a little closer to his truck. “I can move myself.”

      “Of course you can’t. What are you going to do, put everything in the back of your car?” Wilma shook her head and then looked at Jay again.

      Lacey started to protest, and Jay had a few protests of his own. He didn’t need trouble living just down the road from them. His mom had no idea what kind of person Corry Gould was.

      Not that it would have stopped her.

      He reached for another protest, one that didn’t cast stones.

      “Mom, we’re fixing that house up for Chad.” Jay’s brother. And one summer, a long time ago, it had been Jamie’s dream home. For one summer.

      It had been a lifetime ago, and yet he still held on to dreams of forever and promises whispered on a summer night. His mom had brought Jamie and her family to Gibson, and changed all of their lives forever.

      “Oh, Jay, Chad won’t be out of the navy for three years. If he even gets out of the navy. You know he wants to make it a career.” She patted his arm. “And you’re building a house, so you don’t need it.”

      He opened his mouth with more objections, but his mom’s eyes narrowed and she gave a short shake of her head. Jay smiled past her.

      Lacey, street-smart and somehow shy. And he didn’t want to like her. He didn’t want to see vulnerability in her eyes.

      “I’ll be over at about nine in the morning.” He didn’t sigh. “I’ll bring a stock trailer.”

      “I don’t want you to have to spend your day moving me.”

      He started his truck. “It won’t be a problem. See you in the morning.”

      “Don’t forget dinner tonight,” his mom reminded.

      “You don’t have to cook for me. I could pick something up at the diner.”

      “I have a roast in the Crock-Pot.”

      That was about the worst news he’d heard all day. He shot a look past her and Lacey smiled, her dark eyes twinkling a little.

      “A roast.” He nodded. “That sounds good. Lacey, maybe you all could join us for dinner.”

      “Oh, I can’t. I have to get home and pack.”

      He tipped his hat at her and gave her props for a quick escape. She’d obviously had his mother’s roast before.

      “Thanks, Jay.” Lacey Gould backed away, still watching him, as if she wanted something more from him. He didn’t have more to give.

      “See you at home, honey.” His mom patted his arm.

      “Mom…”

      His mom hurried away, leaving him with the groceries and words of caution he had wanted to offer her. She must have known what he had to say. And she would have called him cynical and told him to give Lacey Gould and her sister a chance.

      * * *

      Lacey woke up early the next morning to soft gray light through the open window and the song of a meadowlark greeting the day. She rolled over on the air mattress she’d slept on and listened to unfamiliar sounds that blended with the familiar.

      A rustle and then a soft cry. She sat up, brushing a hand through her hair and then rubbing sleep from her eyes. She waited a minute, blinking away the fuzzy feeling. The baby cried again.

      “Corry, wake up.” Lacey pushed herself up off the mattress and walked to the hide-a-bed. Corry’s face was covered with the blanket and she slept curled fetus-style on her side.

      “Come on, moving day.”

      Corry mumbled and pulled the pillow over her head.

      Lacey stepped away from the bed and reached into the bassinet for the pacifier to quiet the baby. Rachel’s eyes opened and she sucked hard on the binky. Lacey kissed the baby’s soft little cheek and smiled.

      “I’ll get your bottle.”

      And then she’d finish packing. She side-stepped boxes as she walked to the kitchen. Nearly everything was packed. It hadn’t taken long. Six years and she’d accumulated very little. She had books, a few pictures and some dust bunnies. She wouldn’t take those with her.

      Memories. She had plenty of memories. She’d found a picture of herself and Bailey at Bailey’s wedding, and a note from Bailey’s father’s funeral last year.

      She’d lived a real life in this apartment. In this apartment she had learned to pray. She had cooked dinner for friends. She had let go of love. She had learned to trust herself. Dating Lance had taught her lessons in trusting someone else. And when not to trust.

      The baby was crying for real. Lacey filled the bottle and set it in a cup to run hot water over it. The bed squeaked. She turned and Corry was sitting up, looking sleepy and younger than her twenty-two years.

      Life СКАЧАТЬ