The Cowboy Next Door. Brenda Minton

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      And she thought he was perfect. He could see it in her eyes, the way she looked at him, at his home and his family. She had some crazy idea that if a person was a Blackhorse, they skipped through life without problems, or without making mistakes.

      “It’s a little late for a garden this year.” He started to turn away, but the contents of the box she was unpacking pulled him back. “Dogs?”

      “What?”

      “You like dogs.”

      “I like to collect them.” She took a porcelain shepherd out of the box and dusted it with her shirt.

      “How many more do you have?” He glanced into the box.

      “Dozens.”

      “Okay, I have to ask, why dogs?”

      She looked up at him, her head cocked a little to the side and a veil of dark brown hair falling forward to cover one cheek.

      “Dogs are cute.” She smiled, and he knew that was all he’d get from her.

      He didn’t really want more.

      

      Dogs are cute. As Jay walked through the front door of his house the next morning, he had a hard time believing that Lacey could be right about dogs. He looked down at his bloodhound and shook his head. Dogs weren’t cute. Dogs chewed up a guy’s favorite shoes. Dogs slobbered and chewed on the leg of a chair.

      “You’re a pain in my neck.” He ignored the sad look on the dog’s face. “You have no idea how much I liked those shoes. And Mom is going to kill you for what you did to that chair.”

      Pete whined and rested his head on his paws. Jay picked up the leather tennis shoe and pointed it at the dog. Pete buried his slobbery face between his paws and Jay couldn’t help but smile.

      “Crazy mutt.” Jay dropped the shoe. “So I guess I keep you and buy new shoes. Someday, buddy, someday it’ll be one shoe too many. You’re too old for this kind of behavior.”

      The dog’s ears perked. Jay walked to the window and looked out. A truck was pulling away from the house at the end of the dirt lane. Two days after the fact and he remembered what the Chief had told him: keep an eye on things at Lacey’s. Well, now it would be easy, because Lacey was next door.

      He turned and pointed toward the back door. Pete stood up, like standing took a lot of effort, and lumbered to the door. “Outside today, my friend. Enjoy the wading pool, and don’t chew up the lawn furniture.”

      One last look back and Pete went out the door, his sad eyes pleading with Jay for a reprieve. “Not today, Pete.”

      Jay walked across his yard, his attention on the house not far from his. A five-acre section of pasture separated them. He could see Lacey standing in the yard, pulling on the cord of a push mower.

      He glanced at his watch. He had time before he had to head to work. Pushing aside his better sense, he headed down the road to see if she needed help.

      “Good morning, neighbor.” She stopped pulling and smiled when he walked up. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

      “No, thanks.” He moved a little closer. “Do you want me to start it for you?”

      “If you can. I’ve been pulling on that thing for five minutes.”

      “Does it have gas in it?”

      She bit down on her bottom lip and her hands slid into her pockets. “I didn’t check.”

      He would have laughed, but she already looked devastated. Mowing the lawn was probably a big part of the having-a-house adventure. He wouldn’t tease her. He also wouldn’t burst her bubble by telling her it wouldn’t stay fun for long.

      “Do you have a gas can?”

      “By the porch. Cody brought it. I just figured the mower was full.” She went to get the can of gas. Cody was a good guy to bring it. Jay liked the husband of one of his childhood friends, Bailey Cross.

      Jay opened the gas cap, pushed the machine and shook his head. “No gas. He probably filled the gas can on the way over, so you’d have it.”

      “Of course.” She had the gas can and he took it from her to fill the tank.

      “I can mow it for you.”

      “No, I want to do it. Remember, I’ve never had a lawn.”

      The front door opened. Lacey’s sister stepped out with the baby in her arms. The child was crying, her arms flailing the air. Corry shot a look in his direction. He tried not to notice the eyes that were rimmed with dark circles, or the way perspiration beaded across her pale face. He looked away.

      “She won’t stop crying.” Corry pushed the baby into Lacey’s arms.

      “Did you burp her?” Lacey lifted the infant to her shoulder. “Corry, you have to take care of her. She’s your daughter. You’re all she has.”

      “I don’t want to be all she has. How can I take care of her?”

      “The same way thousands of moms take care of their children. You have to use a little common sense.” Lacey made it look easy, leaning to kiss the baby’s cheek, talking in quiet whispers that soothed the little girl.

      He could have disagreed with Lacey. Not all moms knew how to take care of children. He’d been a police officer for five years. He’d seen a lot.

      “I should go. I have to work today, but I wanted to make sure you have everything you need.” He told himself he wasn’t running from something uncomfortable.

      “We’re good.” Lacey looked down at the baby. “Jay, thanks for this place.”

      “It needed to be rented.” He shrugged it off. “But you’re welcome.”

      “Hey, wait a minute.” Corry moved forward, her thin arms crossed in front of her, hugging herself tight. “Aren’t you going to tell him about the stove?”

      Lacey smiled. “It isn’t a big deal. I can fix it.”

      “Fix what?”

      “One of the knobs is broken. I have to go to Springfield tonight. I can pick one up.”

      “What are you going to Springfield for?” Corry pushed herself into the conversation.

      “None of your business.” Lacey snuggled the baby and avoided looking at either of them. And Jay couldn’t help but be curious. It was a hazard of his job. What was she up to?

      “I can fix the stove, Lacey,” he offered.

      “Jay, I don’t want you to think you have to run over here and fix every little thing that goes wrong. I’m pretty self-sufficient. I can even change my own lightbulbs.”

      “I’m sure you can.” He looked at his watch. “Tell СКАЧАТЬ