Six months later
For the rest of the summer, Cash made sure he was waiting outside the garage when I finished work each day.
Sundress appreciation, I told myself, and there was lots of that. But then summer turned to fall, and I traded my leg-baring dresses for corduroy pants and cozy sweaters, and his watchful gaze still tracked me as I crossed the street.
Of course, he showed me there’s a lot to appreciate about cozy sweaters, too.
But winter parkas don’t have any of the touchability of an autumn sweater or the easy access of a summer dress.
And as we passed through the darkest, shortest days of winter, and into the new year, it became very clear that no matter how many layers I’m wearing, Cash Kincaid will always keep an eye out for me.
I’m just loved that much.
It’s the loveliest gift. And it more than makes up for the lingering remnants of antagonism from certain corners of Dragonfly Creek.
The Pelleys will never be friendly. My uncle pretends I don’t exist.
But I have an adopted family that cares about me. I have friends who are fun. I have a growing number of library patrons who go out of their way to tell me they appreciate the programming I organize, and the diversity of books I feature in my displays. I’m becoming known as a trusted reader advisor, and that means the world.
And every night, I go home with a man who makes me feel safe and loved.
Cash and I haven’t spent a night apart since last summer. Most of the time, we sleep at the ranch, where we can help with chores and check on the progress of our house, which is built but not yet finished inside. As soon as it’s complete, we’re going to have a spring wedding on our back porch.
But for now, we’re still in the main house, which is getting fuller by the week, so sometimes we stay in town.
I moved out of my apartment just before Christmas, and since there was plenty of room above the garage, that’s where my books and clothes live for now.
It makes going to work very convenient when we sleep in town!
But the ranch is home, and calving season has just begun, so tonight we’ll be heading out there as soon we finish work.
Which, from the look on my manager’s face as she reads her phone screen, might be sooner than I expected. “Have you seen the forecast?”
I set aside the stack of books I was scanning into our system. “It’s going to snow tonight, right?”
“Looks like it’s blowing in sooner than that.” She surveys the completely empty library. “No reason for us to stay open if it’s going to storm.”
“You sure?”
She smiles. “Go home to your mechanic.”
“Thank you.” I grab my purse and pull on my parka, gloves and toque before dashing out the door, bracing myself against the bitter cold.
Across the street, Cash is watching me already. He has the garage door open, and the glow of a space heater beyond him promises that my chilly run across the street will be worth it.
His kisses would be worth it alone, of course, but the warm garage is a nice bonus.
“We’re closing because of the weather,” I say after launching myself into his arms.
He kisses my mouth, then my nose. “Then I will, too. Do you want to stay in the apartment upstairs tonight?”
“Can’t. Dax says he expects some calves tonight.” None of the brothers expect me to help out with ranch work, but as Ridge’s cows and heifers grew fat with babies into the winter, I discovered a new area of unexpected interest—calving.
And it’s a good excuse to spend time with Cash’s youngest brother, who hasn’t been the same since Zane’s wedding.
Everyone knows that something happened that night with a woman he knows from the rodeo circuit. And whatever it was—Dax isn’t talking—left him growly and grumpy, both out of character for the youngest Kincaid brother.
He even skipped heading to the United States for the southern rodeo circuit that most of his fellow Albertan cowboys go to in the winter. Instead, he stayed on the ranch and poured himself into working with Ridge with the herd.