Page 12 of The Cowboy’s Secret Lover

Milly reached for Faith’s hand. “You’ve always been a good rule follower, but you can’t keep a man from doing everything in his power to save his daughter’s life.”

“Even if it means that he’s risking his own?”

“I guess that’s a decision you’re going to have to make.”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? Faith didn’t want to be the one to decide.

“Tell you what.” Milly rose from the chair. “You should take some chicken and fixings out to his house.”

“No way,” said Faith. “I’m the last person he wants to see right now.”

“Where are your manners, Faith? This is Bear Creek and we take care of our own. Living in all those big cities has made you rude. Kurt got injured today. He needs you to take him a good homecooked meal.”

“Trust me, Kurt Crawford does not want to see me.”

The ringtone on her phone was set to chimes and they began to play as her cell shimmied. She dug through her bag and found the phone. Faith didn’t recognize the number but it the call originated from the Bear Creek area code. She swiped the phone open. “Hello?”

“Faith,” said a male voice. She recognized the speaker right away. “This is Kurt Crawford. I have a favor to ask…”

* * *

The plainsof Texas stretched on for miles. Faith inhaled deeply and wondered what she was doing. A bag full of food—packed in plastic containers that were meant for Kurt Crawford—sat on the passenger seat. Milly was certainly persuasive and had insisted that Faith go to Kurt’s house—especially after he called.

Something more than her aunt’s persistence had compelled Faith to act.

What was it?

Music blasted through the speakers and as Faith pulled her car through the wrought iron gates of Crawford’s Cove, she turned down the volume. Despite the fact that she loved everything about her car, she couldn’t live with the original AM radio. Long ago, she’d upgraded the stereo system. It now accommodated a smartphone, hooked up through a USB cord.

The house came into view and she whistled through her teeth. “Impressive,” she said to nobody in particular. A concrete drive made a loop in front of the house and Faith parked behind a blue sedan.

Faith stepped from her car at the same moment that Erin opened the front door. The younger woman wore her blond hair in a high ponytail, and she’d donned a light blue polo with the Dwight’s House of BBQ logo emblazoned on the front.

“Thanks for coming over,” she said. “I’d hate to miss is shift during Rodeo Week. Lots of tips to be made. Still, I wouldn’t leave my dad alone—not tonight.”

It was the same story that Kurt had given Faith on the phone.

“I’m happy to help out,” said Faith. She lifted the bag of food. “Milly wanted to send over a few things for you all. It looks like you’ll be fed for a month.”

“Your aunt is sweet.” Erin kept the front door propped open with her foot. “Dad’s in the den. It’s just to the left.

“Have a good shift,” Faith said, as the women passed on the front stoop.

The front door led to a circular entryway. A copper water fixture, which only ran a trickle of water, sat on a stand. Ferns, limp and sparse, stood at the base of the sculpture.

“Hey,” said Kurt.

As promised, he sat in a recliner, in a room just to Faith’s left. He’d changed since coming home and now wore a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off, and a pair of jeans. No shoes.

She held up the bag of food. “It’s from Milly.”

“You’ll have to thank your aunt for me. Come in,” he said.

“It sounds like I should be thanking you. Milly said you help out around the house.”

Kurt shrugged. “I do what I can.”

Stepping into the room, Faith placed the bag on a table. The den was paneled in dark wood, with a brick fireplace against the far wall. Curtains were drawn over a sliding glass door and the room was dim and cool, despite the blazing sun outside. The furniture was all mocha-colored leather. A TV, the screen that was longer than Faith was tall, was affixed to the wall over the fireplace.