Page 19 of Drifter’s Heart

Liar, liar, Hottie McNurse crush on fire.

Or cowboy crush on fire… The one I was never supposed to have.

Cord has his reasons. Mine are different. And they might involve me throwing my fresh coffee at my brother’s best friend earlier in the day. But we aren’t talking about my poor taste, either in coffee shops or in men.

“Yeah, she’s had a growth spurt. Don’t you go crushing on a cowboy,” I warn my daughter when her eyes light up at Billy’s name. “He might look closer to your age than most of the boys at Coyote Falls but that still makes it a twenty-something-year age gap. That’s a big no, progeny.”

Sally rolls her eyes and tosses Cord her volleyball kit. “Mom’s no fun. Can I ride a bull?” she asks brightly.

“NO,” we both shout her down at the same time.

“All right. We’re outta here.” Cord gives me a one-armed hug I pretend not to need, avoiding getting slammed in the face by a volleyball bag with his name written on it. “I’ll have her back… in two days?” He tips his head to one side, assessing his luck.

I sigh. “Three days. You can hang out at Coyote for three days,” I tell my offspring, not looking up at my brother.

Their matching whoops tell me I got it right, though I can’t help but wonder if I somehow also managed to get it terribly wrong all at once.

Please, please, God. Let her be safe.

Not that there is any reason that Sally won’t be safe out at Coyote. Cord can get her to medical care anytime she needs it. Plus, I trained him, so he’s more knowledgeable than half the hospital staff. And Billy, and West… shit. I push the ex-Coyote foreman as far from my mind as I can manage.

Which is about as far as I ran from him earlier before he laughed at me and left me in a fresh hot flush all over.

“Bye, Mom,” Sally calls pointedly from a foot in front of my face when I don’t respond to what’s obviously been several attempts to draw my attention.

“Bye, chicken. Have an awesome time. Look after her,” I direct to my brother as I strangle my child in a chokehold hug of epic proportions. “Love you,” I whisper in her ear soft enough for the entire townhouse complex to hear.

“See you in a few days!” Sally disappears out of my line of sight.

A pang hits me at chest height the moment she’s gone. “Bye,” I mutter, wrapping my empty arms around myself. Ten years old. You’d think I’d get my asylum-grade abandonment issues under control sometime.

“I’ll take care of her,” Cord reassures me in his quiet way.

I know you will. Otherwise I’d never let her stay with you.

I grab her forgotten oboe in its case instead and shove it into his arms, and then top that with her music stand and folder of sheet music. “I’m sure you can just ship in anything else that she’s forgotten. Sally knows where she’s going and when. Don’t let her get distracted. No junk food!”

“We won’t,” Cord promises me, pressing a kiss to my temple.

Then he’s gone too, and I’m left staring at a capybara whose axolotl suit looks as distressed as my clothing, its feathery frond gill things wilting visibly with each breath that tries to heave from my chest.

She’ll be fine. She’ll be okay. He’s safe. She’s safe with him.

I grab my phone and send a flurry of texts to Lanie.

They’re headed your way. Your wishes are coming true!

Please do NOT let her ride a bull.

Or chat up a cowboy.

She’s too young for that.

It’s okay, you hyperactive piece of amazingness. She’s safe with us. And you get to sleep (or not). Go Hottie McNurse it up!

Or something.

We have to catch up at some point. I’m so over everything right now.