Page 31 of The Cowboy Who Worked Late
“I’m right there with you, sweetheart,” Henry said. “But that doesn’t mean you have to work yourself into the ground.”
“Okay,” she said. “I hear you.”
He reached over and took her hand in his. “I’ll help you slow down when things feel too hectic,” he said. “I’ll help you carry some of the load.”
She nodded, and Angel relaxed into the drive from his family ranch to hers. He pulled down the lane toward Lone Star, a familiar weight settling over her shoulders. She did love this place, with its rolling landscape, green fields, and oh, she could smell the horses before the stables even came into view.
Henry went past the farmhouse and around the corner, pulling in front of her house only a few seconds later. He put the truck in park and looked at her.
“I won’t say thank you twenty-five times a day.”
He grinned, then burst out laughing. “That’s what you’ve been worked up over during the drive?” He shook his head as he chuckled and got out of the truck. She followed him into her house, him carrying the big tote right to her kitchen counter like he’d been here dozens of times in the past.
He had not.
Angel almost didn’t want to close the door—which was why she hadn’t been able to do his performance interviews with the door closed either. Shutting herself into tight spaces with Henrymade her fantasies about kissing him again—for real, this time—dance to life.
He unloaded food into her fridge like he lived there, and left other things on the counter. Finished, he finally looked at her, still standing way over by the front door. “You think I’m gonna bite?” he teased.
“No.” But kind of.
He laughed, walked over to her, and drew her straight into his arms as if he was a mother hen and she the little chick that needed guidance. She felt so small and so safe inside the circle of his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. He bent his head down and brushed his lips from her earlobe down to her jaw. “Okay?”
She looked up at him from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat until she nodded. “Okay,” she said.
He left her house with the rest of the food, and Angel wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself now.
I better go see Trevor and make sure he’s okay.
Her brother might have questions about where she’d been and who she’d been with, but Angel didn’t mind telling him. In fact, if Trevor didn’t ask, Angel was simply going to tell him so that she could get the teeming things inside her out, get them laid down where she could see them, and maybe even have her brother help her understand what all of this meant.
Chapter Nine
Instead of heading straight back to his cabin, where Henry desperately wanted to get so that he could think through all the things that he and Angel had done and talked about in the last two days, he swung by Shad’s house instead.
Shad Roundy was one of the master farriers at Lone Star, and he was an excellent horseman. He could read horses better than anyone Henry had ever seen, except maybe Bard and his own daddy. And he was a real team leader.
Henry wasn’t sure why Shad had a bee in his bonnet over Berniece, and he still felt like he should stop by and say something. All the master farriers at Lone Star had their own cabins, so Shad lived alone. If he was married, his family would have been able to live there with him, the way Ford’s did. But Shad wasn’t married, and as far as Henry knew, he wasn’t even seeing anyone.
“I wonder if he would ask Angel out if he could,” Henry muttered to himself, instant jealousy and darkness spreading through him. He didnotwant Angel to lift the no-dating rule because he absolutely didnotwant anyone else to ask her out. He’d never heard a rumor or whisper of anyone liking her in a romantic way. But he’d never let on as much either.
He stopped by the back passenger door and grabbed the bag of chocolate-covered pretzels out of the tote his momma had sent. No, he didn’t have any at home, and yes, they were his favorite treat. But he had to take something to break the ice between him and Shad. Up the steps he went, where he rapped on the door.
Shad was the morning master farrier, which meant he got done at three o’clock and was always home for dinner, so Henry wasn’t surprised to hear him yell, “Come in,” a moment later.
Henry went right in and grinned at the man who sat on the couch wearing reading glasses as he held the Bible in his lap. So he was probably in a good mood—or at least a calm frame of mind.
Henry held up the bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. “My momma sent you a gift,” he said, because he was not going to claim credit for the pretzels when they were his mother’s.
Shad set aside his scriptures and got to his feet as he removed his reading glasses. “Wow,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s amazing.” He moved over and took the pretzels from him. “How are your parents?”
“They’re great,” Henry said. “Yeah, they’re doing just great.” He put his hands in his back pockets and waited for Shad to take the pretzels into the kitchen. He set them on the counter next to the fridge and turned to face him. With about fifteen feet separating them, Henry decided he better just go for it.
“I wanted to talk about Berniece,” he said.
Shad’s expression hardened instantly. “Yeah, Levi said something to me.”
