Page 11 of All in with the Maverick Montana

Faith rolled her eyes so dramatically Amy could see it perfectly from where she stood. She muttered something that sounded like “Men,” as Caleb wished Josh a good day and headed off after his father and the customers.

Faith turned her gaze back to Josh. “You want me to ring these shears up for you now?”

Josh turned, glancing around the store. “Not quite yet. I’ve got a couple other things to look for.”

“Yeah, for that sheep ranch you’re starting.” Josh turned away from the counter, and Faith picked up the shears, placing them on the display shelf once more. She turned around and shot Amy a look, her lips curling into a smug smile.

Amy knew exactly what Faith was thinking, and resisted the urge to roll her own eyes at Faith’s insinuation. She couldn’t deny the fact that she was pleased to see Josh back in the store so soon, but it’s not like he’d returned just to see her. He was a busy, hardworking man, and even if he didn’t need sheep shears, they’d spent all of fifteen minutes together. Surely she hadn’t made any type of worthwhile impression on the man.

He certainly made one on you though.

Amy pushed that thought aside. It disappeared quickly, lost in another wave of nausea, though this one was not nearly as bad as the first. She sucked in a sharp breath just as Josh’s voice reached her.

“They pay you to stand around on top of stepladders all day?”

Amy turned her head. Josh had appeared from the other end of the aisle. He glanced up at her, the corner of his mouth lifting, a sack of feed tucked under one of his arms.

“Well, hello to you too, cowboy. I don’t get paid at all, remember?”

“Ah, that’s right.” He took a step closer, and she could make out the way his brown eyes shone under the sunlight spilling in through the skylights. “You’re just standing around out of the goodness of your heart.”

“I am not just standing around,” Amy scoffed. “I happen to be facing the product.” She gestured down the aisle to all the cans she’d neatly arranged. “I’m even arranging it by expiration date.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry now for interrupting such vital work.”

“You should be. I’m giving up my precious time to talk to you.”

“Still haggling Caleb for employee of the month?”

Amy laughed. “As if there’s any real competition. So, I hear you’re branching out into sheep?”

“You do a lot of eavesdropping up there, huh?”

“Only on the interesting conversations. So, sheep?”

“What is it with you and Faith getting on my case about the sheep? Do I not look like I could handle some sheep?”

Amy’s heart fluttered beneath her ribs. She suspected he hadn’t really come to the store to secure supplies to start a sheep ranch. But before she could really wonder about what had brought Josh back so soon, a wave of dizziness consumed her. It started at the top of her head, like someone had cracked an egg right against her skull. The sensation slithered down her spine, rolling out across her body. She clutched the top of the stepladder as her head spun. This wasn’t Josh having this effect on her, was it?

No, that would be ridiculous.

She didn’t swoon over men.

Not even cowboys like Josh, who looked at her with big brown eyes and a smile that could knock the air right out of her lungs.

She’d learned her lesson.

Amy took a step down the ladder while she still had her balance. And another. She just had to get her feet back on solid ground. Then her stomach would settle and her head would stop spinning.

Right?

She reached up, palm to her forehead. Her mouth was dust dry. Her feet hit solid ground.

“Amy?” Josh said, his tone soft, concerned. She’d closed her eyes again so she couldn’t see his face, but she felt his hand on her shoulder and that stirred more sensation in her gut. “You doing okay?”

“Fine,” she squeaked in a voice that was too tiny to be her own. Then everything shifted sideways. Her head, her body… Her hip hit the stepladder, jostling it aside, and she was certain she was going to hit the floor next, but instead she crashed up against a wall of sturdy muscle.

Josh’s arms wrapped around her upper arms, holding her upright with the kind of strength that would bruise, but Amy’s other alternative was slumping straight to the floor. Her legs felt like sandbags, heavy and useless, and exhaustion surged through her, clinging to her bones.