The Cowboy Takes A Wife. Trish Milburn
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And despite the fact that she lived in Texas, her skin wasn’t tanned. Maybe with her fair complexion she burned easily and took caution in the sun.
“She’s certainly grown into a beautiful woman, hasn’t she?”
He shifted his attention to his mom sitting in the passenger seat. “You can just stop right there.”
“What? I can’t say when I think someone’s pretty?”
He snorted. “We both know where you’re going with this, and my view on the whole idea hasn’t changed.”
His mom sighed. “Fine. Maybe you two can at least be friends. With a mom like hers, I’m sure she could use them.”
“What’s up with you and Angela Newberry anyway?”
“She’s always been too snooty for words, thinks she’s better than everyone else.”
He still thought there might be more to the story, but he also knew when his mom wasn’t going to say more on the subject. “Good enough reason for me.”
He started the truck and pulled out onto Main Street, not allowing himself to check the rearview mirror to see if a certain redhead was following.
* * *
DEVON SHOOK HER head as she followed Cole and Barbara toward their ranch. Perhaps going through with the visit was overkill, but sometimes it felt as if her mother had eyes and ears everywhere. Not for the first time, Devon wondered how her life would be different if she’d moved away from Blue Falls, hundreds or even thousands of miles away from her family.
No doubt her mom would still find a way to know everything she was doing and criticize it. To Angela Newberry, Devon had chosen a life beneath her. She was supposed to marry a man with the right pedigree according to her mom, take part in carefully chosen causes and pop out a few babies while her husband was brought into the fold at Diamond Ranch Western Wear.
Ugh. The image made her skin crawl. It wasn’t that the thought of marrying and having children repulsed her. But, funny thing, she’d like to be the one picking the husband in that scenario, preferably someone who looked at the world as she did, who wasn’t bedazzled by her parents’ money. Even the name of her parents’ huge ranch and the namesake clothing company that produced high-end Western wear for everyone from governors to famous country singers didn’t sit well with her. It sounded pretentious. She hated pretentious.
She much preferred her little sustainable farm, where she raised chickens, goats and sheep, spun wool, made goat’s-milk soap. It provided the peace and freedom from stress that she’d lacked growing up. Money often couldn’t buy you the things you wanted most. She’d even chosen a simple name for her home, Phlox Farm, because the hillside next to her house had been covered in bright purple phlox the first time she’d seen it. So unlike Diamond Ranch, where the only diamonds to be found were on her mother’s hand or in her jewelry box.
The day she’d visited her farm, it had been love at first sight. When her mother had found out where Devon was moving, she’d sworn Devon had lost her mind. Her mom didn’t realize that by saying that, it only made Devon more convinced she’d done the right thing by buying it.
She lifted her hand to shade the setting sun trying to blind her through the driver’s-side window. Leaving thoughts of the past in the past where they belonged, she focused on the pickup in front of her, and not getting so lost in her memories that she drove too close to it.
Cole looked over toward his mom, putting his strong profile on display. Devon’s heartbeat did a disconcerting fluttery thing, causing her to take a slow, deep breath to calm the rhythm. She had to purge this problematic attraction, especially if she didn’t want to trip over her own tongue and make an idiot of herself while she had to spend time at the ranch.
She nearly hit the brakes and turned around. She’d ceased letting her mother have power over her decisions years ago, and yet here she was, willing to go hide out at the Davis ranch simply because her mom was trying to fix her up again.
This wasn’t your idea.
No, but she hadn’t put the kibosh on it, either.
Good grief, she was putting too much importance on the impending visit. She liked Barbara, who was friendly and a faithful customer of the fabric section of A Good Yarn. Both she and Cole had helped her out, so the least she could do was maybe have a cup of coffee with them, take a gander at Cole’s work, say some appropriately complimentary words, then head home to that bath and book that seemed to keep getting further and further away.
Several miles north of town, Cole finally put on his left-turn signal and pulled into his family’s ranch. She wondered what it had felt like to him when he’d returned home after several years on the rodeo circuit. When he’d left right after high school, his father had been alive and his younger brother had still been at home. Now it was Cooper out riding the circuit, so Cole had come home to only his mom.
Devon’s heart went out to Barbara. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for her to lose the man she’d loved for so long, to suddenly be alone on a ranch that used to be filled with her family. Though Devon had never seen Barbara being anything other than smiling and quick with a kind word, there had to have been a lot of sad, dark, lonely days for her.
After they’d both parked, Devon hesitated a moment as Cole slid from his truck. She’d swear his jean-encased legs had gotten longer in the time it had taken to drive from town. Deciding she wasn’t going to get any less antsy sitting in her car, she got out and followed Barbara into the house, trying not to think about Cole behind her.
She almost snorted at herself. What was there to be worried about? It wasn’t as if he was checking out her curves. She wasn’t a fan of clothing that clung too tightly. Plus, didn’t guys love gorgeous blondes or long, leggy brunettes, and not someone who looked like she was the hair twin of a certain flame-haired, bow-wielding princess?
The moment she stepped inside the house, a gray, long-haired cat nuzzled against her legs.
“Looks like you already have Jasper’s seal of approval,” Barbara said.
Devon knelt and petted the cat, causing him to begin purring so loudly she laughed a little. “You’ve got quite the motor running, Jasper.”
“He thinks you’ll give him treats if he does that,” Cole said as he walked past her. “I wonder where he gets that idea.”
Devon looked up in time to see Cole give his mom a pointed look.
“I admit I spoil him, and I’m not sorry. Besides, you’re the one who gave him to me. You’re complicit.”
Devon smiled at their banter, but a part of her heart ached that she couldn’t have this with her mom. She loved her mother, but it was so difficult to be around her. But from her mother’s point of view, she wasn’t at fault for that fact. So Devon kept her distance as best she could and tried not to think about the tiny ember of hope that still burned deep inside her that one day her mom would chill out some and they could have a real, nonadversarial relationship.
“Come on in the kitchen, hon,” Barbara said, making a motion for Devon to follow her. “I just made some lemon squares earlier. Would you like one while I make dinner?”
“I’ll hold off for now, thanks. And you don’t have to feed me. I can just stay for a few minutes, then head out.”
“Nonsense. You already drove all the way out here. Might as well stay and eat. It’ll be nice to have company for dinner. I think Cole gets tired just staring at my mug at every meal.”
“I doubt that.”
“Regardless, please say you’ll stay.”
Devon hesitated for a moment, then said, “Okay, but tell me what I can do to help.”
She ended up cutting thick slices of homemade sourdough bread as Barbara prepared fresh chicken salad. Despite Devon’s hyperawareness of Cole on the other side of the room pulling