Page 27 of The Cowboy’s Secret Lover

She wasn’t sure, and what was more—Faith didn’t want to examine how she felt about Kurt.

After opening the door, she stepped into the cool night. Drawing in a deep breath, she strode up the walkway. “At this hour, Milly’s asleep,” said Faith. She stopped at the front door and worked her key into the lock. “But I know she always keeps one of the guest rooms ready, just in case. You can sleep in there.”

“Honestly,” said Kurt, as Faith opened the door. “I doubt I’ll sleep much.”

They stepped inside. True to the original architecture of the home, the front door led to a foyer, tiled with a black and white mosaic. The small room was papered in burgundy stripes on the bottom of the wall. It was bisected with a wooden chair rail, and the top of the wall had a cream-colored paper with a subtle floral pattern. The rest of the house held the same charm from the late 19th century.

Carved newel post. Winding staircase that led to the upper-floors. Brass chandelier hanging in the formal dining room.

Kurt whistled through his teeth. “I stop by and visit your Aunt Milly often,” he said. “Each time I walk through the front door, I wonder—what does it take to keep up a place like this?”

Faith shrugged. “Only three things,” she said. She led him to a sitting room at the back of the house. The room was filled with a sofa, covered in yellow upholstery, and a matching recliner. Coffee table. Lamps. A seemingly endless collection of porcelain birds—Aunt Milly’s pride and joy—covered every available surface.

“What three things?”

“Love. Time. Money. And large sums of each.” Faith flipped a wall switch, illuminating three lamps at once. “Have a seat.”

With a sigh, Kurt dropped onto the couch. “I might not ever get up.”

Faith took a seat at the opposite end. The soft cushions offered a welcome relief to her weary body. “It’s been a long day. I can’t remember when I’ve been this tired.”

“I’m beaten down,” he said. “Faith, I don’t know what I’ll do without Erin. Aside from her, I’m really alone in the world.”

She moved to his side and reached for his hand. Slipping her fingers between his, she said, “Don’t say it that way. You can’t give up on her.”

“I’m not giving up.” He squeezed her hand and drew her closer. “But I’m also not a stupid man. I know that Erin can’t go on like this. I’ve always been fighting for one thing—more time. I just never expected to run out time now, not when I have a plan.”

Faith thought what she had before. Kurt’s plan to win another national championship for bull riding was unlikely to succeed. Moreover, it could end up costing Kurt his own life.

Then there was Faith’s idea. True, it was far from ideal—and could cost Faith her job. Maybe now was the time to share what she had learned from Dr. Ortega. She looked at Kurt. He was bathed in the soft, golden glow of lamplight. A sprinkling of hair covered his cheeks and chin. She lifted her hand, ready to touch him but stopped.

He was asleep and she dared not interrupt his rest.

Placing her head on his shoulder, Faith whispered. “You’re wrong, Kurt. You aren’t alone. I’m here and I promise that I won’t leave you—not again.”

Then, her eyes closed, and sleep came to claim her.

* * *

Kurt awoketo an aching head and a throbbing knee. Before he even opened his eyes, he recalled the call from Camilla Diaz, telling him that Erin was in the hospital.

There were other memories from yesterday, and not all of them were bad. There was the ride and fall, which wasn’t good. But it had brought Faith McGregor back into his life. They’d made love. He’d fallen asleep with his hand in hers.

Where was she now? Where was he?

Finally opening his eyes, Kurt took in the room. It was the sitting room at Milly McGregor’s house, complete with a flock of porcelain birds filling every flat surface. The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dark. Yet, sunlight shone around the sides and Kurt knew it was morning. That answered the question of where he was. Yet, where was Faith? And why hadn’t she stayed with him all night?

Scrubbing his hands on his face he drew in a deep breath. Did he smell coffee and bacon?

Standing slowly, Kurt felt each and every one of his thirty-eight years. He took a step and pain erupted in his knee. His head throbbed with each beat of his heart. He pushed the discomfort aside and followed the scent of food.

Faith stood at the stove. Her back was to the door, and Kurt. She wore a pair of loose, gray sweatpants and a tight-fitting tank top. Her hair was in a ponytail at the top of her head, and her amber locks fell in waves. As he’d noted before, she looked good from behind.

Dressed in a pink robe, Milly sat at the table. Her gnarled hands were cupped around a mug of coffee. “Now that poor girl is in the hospital. Was it her heart that gave out?”

Kurt figured they were talking about Erin. He paused at the doorway, wondering what Faith would say.

“I’m sorry Aunt Milly, I really can’t discuss patients,” said Faith. “It’s a violation of their privacy. You can ask Kurt whenever he wakes up.”