True-Blue Cowboy

by Sara Richardson

  “Not bad, eh?” he asked.

  She shook her head, mouth still hanging open.

  The Everetts’ vineyard sprawled before them at the bottom of the hill, but to the west they could see the main part of town, and thanks to the clear sky, the ocean beyond.

  She swiped under her eye.

  “Hell,” he said. “What’s wrong? Tell me I didn’t just make you remember something else you’d rather forget.”

  She laughed, then sniffled. “No. It’s not that. It’s just—I mean I’ve seen the ocean before. I grew up in San Francisco. But—”

  “It looks different here,” he said.

  She nodded, and he understood.

  “Small-town living isn’t for everyone,” he said. “But this is one of the many reasons I never really left.”

  “I don’t blame you.” She took a deep breath of the crisp air. “But you have been outside the town limits, right?”

  He nodded once. “Four years at City University of New York.”

  Even behind her sunglasses he could see her eyes widen. “Eighteen years in Oak Bluff to New York City?”

  He cleared his throat, then turned his gaze just past her and toward the horizon. “They had a good criminal justice program.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He could feel her stare burning a hole straight through him. No one asked him about CUNY anymore, and he didn’t exactly bring it up voluntarily. So what the hell was he doing mentioning it now?

  “For someone who doesn’t seem to like much change in the status quo—who has already expressed that there are many reasons why he stayed in his small town—I find it very interesting you went so far away for school.” She gasped. “You followed a girl!”

  He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, grateful they were hidden behind his aviators.

  “Oh, come on,” she said. “I told you my story. It’s only fair I get to hear yours.”

  He grinned and enjoyed watching her brows raise once more. “Only if you can keep up.” He tapped his heels against Bella’s flanks, not hard enough to make her gallop but just enough to get her moving a bit faster than before.

  “Hey!” she called after him as he started descending the hill. “Not funny, Cash!”

  He knew she was safe, though, whether she followed or stayed at the top of that hill until he came back up. But he could hear Cleo’s hooves in the grass behind him, so he kept going, just a few paces ahead of her, until he reached the fence that denoted the end of the pasture and the beginning of the vineyard.

  He hopped down and tied Bella’s reins to a post. By the time he finished, Olivia was pulling Cleo to a stop beside him.

  Her jaw was set, and she was not smiling.

  He moved to give her a hand dismounting the horse.

  “No, thank you,” she said, chin raised. “If you’re going to leave me to fend for myself, then I’m going to fend for myself.”

  He stepped back and crossed his arms. Damn, this woman was stubborn. But he already knew that—and kinda liked it. She was strong and not afraid to challenge him. It had been a good long while since someone had.

  She swung one leg over Cleo’s side so she was balancing in just the one stirrup. She yelped and he rushed to her before she fell flat on her back, catching her in his arms.

  “Your ankle,” he said. “Shit. I forgot.”

  She nodded, her face so close to his—lips near enough to kiss. Again. “I guess I forgot, too. It wasn’t really bothering me until I put all my weight on it. And here you are again, sheriff in shining armor, catching me before I fall. Maybe one of these days I can swoop in on a horse and rescue you.”

  He chuckled. “What makes you think I need rescuing?” he asked.

  She blew out a breath. “Oh no you don’t. You don’t get to change the subject. You said you’d answer my question if I could keep up. Well, I kept up.” She shimmied out of his arms, biting back a wince when she landed, but she stayed standing. “Now you have to tell me about the girl you chased across the country.”

  He showed her how to tie off the reins, then helped her over the fence and into the vineyard. They walked slowly down a row of vines.

  “All this land belongs to the Everetts?” she asked, running the tips of her fingers along the budding vines. “I thought the sign on the property said Crossroads Ranch.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he said. “And soon they’ll add and Vineyard to that. It’s a long story, but their father passed away recently and left them a failing vineyard in the will. For three guys who grew up knowing nothing but ranching, they’ve really turned this place around.”

  She was a few paces ahead of him when she spoke again. “You know, you don’t have to tell me about her if you don’t want to. I get wanting to leave the past in the past.”

  He sighed. Because that was exactly where he wanted the past. And he thought he’d left it there until the Saturday morning mail arrived. Now here it was, still lurking in his present.

  “Her name was Tara. Is Tara. Shit, it’s not as if she died.” He mumbled that last bit to himself.

  Olivia stopped walking, then turned to face him. “High school sweetheart?”

  “Yep. But I didn’t follow her to New York. Small-town living can get to you when you’re younger and don’t appreciate it, and I needed to get away to make sure staying was what I wanted. So I researched criminal justice programs on the East Coast. Lucinda had money set aside from the sale of the farm, so when I got in…”

  “She followed you,” Olivia said with realization. Then she pushed her glasses to the top of her head so he could see what he knew was coming. The pity. “You came back, but she didn’t.” She gasped and covered her mouth. “It was her wedding invitation in your truck!”

  He let out a bitter laugh. “I’m that damned obvious, huh?” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “I swear, Olivia Belle, if you say Oh, Cash, or tilt your head to the side and give me that look…”

  She crossed her arms. “What look?”

  He raised his glasses, tilted his head to the side, and drew his brows together, mimicking the look of pity everyone gave him when they found out about the post-graduation proposal that got turned down. The look that everyone gave when he rolled back into town on four wheels, an empty tank of gas, and an even emptier heart. The same look Henrietta, the mail carrier, gave him when she walked up the stairs to his apartment and handed him that damned invitation just as he was leaving to take Dixie for her morning walk.

  Olivia giggled, and he raised a brow.

  “Oh God,” she said, laughing harder now. “That is a terrible look. I promise not to ever give you that look.”

  He chuckled, realizing that up until that moment he’d been the one pitying himself. But now he was with this woman. Laughing. Maybe he balked at Olivia calling him on it, but it was something he rarely did these days.

  “Much appreciated,” he said. His phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket.

  “Something wrong?” Olivia asked as his jaw tightened.

  He put the phone away and met her gaze. “That was Jack Everett. Wanted to let me know that he tracked down the builder who transformed your grandmother’s house into a retail space and apartment. Says anything they found as far as personal effects got dropped at a local Goodwill.”

  Olivia’s expression fell. “They must have thrown the letters out, right? I mean, why would they keep them? To a builder they would have been trash.”

  A sheen grew over her eyes. Damn it; he didn’t want to see her cry again.

  “Maybe…” he said, and he knew he was grasping here. “But maybe not.”

  She sniffed back the threat of tears. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that Lucinda sometimes shops the farmer’s market for little odds and ends for the store.” She gave him a look, and he waved her off. “Not food. There’s this woman who sells handmade crafts and stuff like that. But she also deals in found items, and I know Lucinda has picked up some stuff for the store from
her before. We can ask her if she’s heard anything about the letters.”

  Olivia sucked in a breath and grinned. “Well, let’s go! What are we waiting for?”

  He cleared his throat. “That’s the thing. The farmer’s market is only open on the weekends and only until noon on Sundays. It’s a quarter past twelve now. And there’s also the chance that even if we go to the market, she’s not there.”

  He expected her shoulders to sag, but instead she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “So I’d have to stay here the week,” she said. “And then run the risk of still coming up empty handed.”

  He nodded.

  “I have the vacation time,” she said. “But what would I do here all week?”

  A surprise gust of wind blew her soft curls over her face. He chuckled and pushed them out of the way and behind her ears. And it must have been the brush of his skin against hers—this crackle of whatever was brewing between them—that made him lose all sense of self-preservation.

  “I’m on duty the next forty-eight hours,” he said. “Off Wednesday. Then back on Thursday and Friday. If you can keep yourself out of trouble for a couple days, I’d like to take you to dinner Wednesday night.”

  Olivia cleared her throat. “Are you—are you asking me on a date?”

  He shrugged. “Figure if we keep kissing like we’re doing I could at least buy you a meal. Even though you stole my dinner last night.”

  “You offered!” she scoffed. “And…then you brought me a donut.” She scratched the back of her neck. “I kinda feel like I should maybe buy you dinner.”

  He laughed. “My town, my rules. Means I get to not only buy you a meal but continue to give you hell for stealing my last one.”

  She groaned, but he could tell there was a smile hiding behind her annoyance.

  “So…you’ll stay the week?” he asked, a little surprised by how much he wanted her to say yes.

  She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Are you gonna kiss me again, Sheriff?”

  He dipped his head, his lips a breath away from hers. “Every chance I get, Ms. Belle.”

  And then he did.

  When his lips touched hers he tried not to think about how much he enjoyed it, or how a sudden warmth spread through him, slow but deliberate. He tried not to admit to himself that Tara’s wedding was starting to bother him less and less. And he tried to ignore that their date was just a date—that Olivia Belle in Oak Bluff was only temporary.

  Because if he didn’t try all of these things, he might realize that she was melting his long-frozen heart, which meant he was in danger of the one thing he’d protected himself from for so many years.

  Falling in love and getting left again.

  Chapter Eight

  Cash’s forty-eight hours on the job had been busier than he’d expected.

  Monday he’d had to fetch Mrs. Middleton’s fifteen-pound cat from her oak tree. Twice. And he had the scratches on his neck to prove it. He’d made a note to himself to start forwarding Mrs. Middleton’s number to one of his deputy’s phones, even if it was their day off.

  Just a couple hours ago he’d received a call from The Night Owl, Oak Bluff’s one and only tavern, that Walker Everett was drunk and disorderly again. Hell, Cash knew the Everett brothers had a messy past to contend with, but Walker—the youngest of the three—had been contending worse and worse these days. Nora, owner of The Night Owl, tried her best to deal with Walker on her own, but sometimes things got out of hand. It had just been one of those nights.

  Actually, it had been a day—or two—to say the least. Now, at mere minutes past midnight and the end of his shift, all he wanted to do was collapse into bed, Dixie at his feet. But something felt off.

  He’d already let the dog out, so that wasn’t it. He’d tossed his uniform into the washer and locked his gun in the safe. Everything was as it should be.

  He scratched the back of his head and stared down at his phone charging on the nightstand. The screen lit up with an incoming text. The sender? Cinderella, the name he’d programmed into his contact list for Olivia Belle.

  Cinderella: Hope the residents of Oak Bluff obeyed the law better than I did. ;)

  Cash laughed out loud. Then, even though he stood on the cold floor in nothing but his boxer briefs, that inexplicable warmth spread through him.

  He sat on the side of the bed, picked up the phone, and unlocked the screen.

  Cash: Isn’t it past your bedtime?

  Cinderella: Nah. I like to wait till everyone’s sleeping before I try breaking and entering.

  He chuckled.

  Cash: But I’m the sheriff, and I’m still up. Might be a flaw in your logic.

  Cinderella: Wasn’t counting on you being awake. Figured you’d crash as soon as your shift ended, but I’m glad you didn’t.

  He leaned back against the headboard, and Dixie gave him a knowing look. That was when he realized he was wearing a dopey grin on his face, and he rolled his eyes at himself. He was damn glad Olivia Belle was still awake, too.

  Cash: Been thinking about me, huh?

  Because he understood, now, the reason something felt off. Missing. As busy as he’d been, thoughts of Olivia had lingered in the back of his mind these past two days. While he’d been saving a cat, what had she been doing? When Walker Everett needed a police escort home—and Cash to be a friend and sneak him into the house without waking Jack, Ava, or their son Owen—where had Olivia been?

  Cinderella: A lot, sorta. Is that bad?

  Cash: Not at all. Been thinking about you too. You enjoying our little town?

  Cinderella: YES! I love that even though you let me have my car back, I can walk anywhere I want to go. Been to the bakery, to that little craft shop where some of Ava Ellis’s paintings are. She’s really good, btw. And tonight I cooked dinner at the B and B with the other guests. It was so fun! And we made sangria. I had a glass. Or maybe two. Delish!

  Cash laughed at her rambling. She texted like she spoke, but he liked it. He liked hearing about her day at the end of his.

  “Huh,” he said aloud. That was a first—wanting to talk to someone other than Dixie before he went to bed.

  Cinderella: Also I ignored texts from my mom, dad, grandmother, and Michael. Basically everyone in my real life. So that was fun. Also I might be buzzed.

  Cash’s small bubble of whatever he was feeling deflated just a little at the sound of that name. Michael. The guy who wanted to marry her.

  Cash: Don’t you think you should maybe deal with all that?

  He regretted hitting send as soon as he did. He was nothing more than a pit stop on her way to who knows where. Who was he to tell her when she should deal with her life?

  He watched those three dots hovering where Olivia’s next text would appear, his chest tightening as he did.

  Cinderella: They all think they know what’s best for me. But right now real life isn’t best. I want to live in the fairy tale a little longer…with my fairy tale straight and narrow lawman. Is that okay? ;)

  He blew out a breath. Yeah, he’d say that was pretty okay. After all, wasn’t he living in a fantasy, too? In a few days, they’d be strangers again—she back to her life and he back to his.

  Cash: It’s okay.

  He thought the response maybe merited some sort of emoji to let her know he wasn’t going to pry into her life any further, but Cash Hawkins had never used an emoji in his life. He sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.

  Cinderella: Good. I’m kinda sleepy.

  Cash: Sangria? Or because it’s past midnight.

  Cinderella: Both, I think. But I just wanted to say hi. So…hi.

  Cash: Hi.

  Cinderella: Now I should probs say good-night. Good-night, Sheriff.

  Cash: Good night, Cinderella. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  Cinderella: You think you might kiss me again?

  He chuckled.

  Cash: I think I just might.

  He waited a few minutes, but there was no respo
nse. She’d probably fallen asleep. As tired as he was—make that exhausted—he lay in bed, eyes wide open, for a while after that. She’d thought about him…and he her. Correction. He was still thinking about her right now.

  Dixie let out a long sigh, then nudged his foot with her nose.

  “I know, girl. I think we’re in trouble, too.”

  Chapter Nine

  Olivia stood in front of the mirror and twisted back and forth. She loved the rich blue color of the dress, the off-the-shoulder style and bell sleeves. But what really topped off the look were the black suede ankle boots.

  “You look fantastic.”

  Olivia startled, then spun to find a familiar-looking blond woman standing just inside the door of the small clothing boutique.

  “Lily,” she said. “Lily Green? We met at the Everett ranch. I was feeding cake to Luke Everett.” She winced as she said Luke’s name.

  “Oh!” Olivia said. “The brother who got thrown off the bull. And you’re catering…”

  “My ex-husband’s wedding. Yep. That’s me.”

  Yeah. Olivia remembered. She also remembered the tension in that kitchen between Luke and Lily that seemed to have nothing to do with her ex’s wedding. “Right.” She let out a nervous laugh and then glanced down at the dress. “It’s not too much?” she asked.

  Lily shook her head. “Why would it be too much?”

  Olivia’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t look like I’m trying to look all cowgirl to impress a sometimes cowboy?”

  Lily shrugged. “You look like a woman who’s going to blow Sheriff Hawkins’s mind when he picks you up tonight.” She gasped and threw a hand over her mouth. “Was I not supposed to know about the date?”

  Olivia laughed. “How many people live in this town?”

  Lily was laughing now, too. “Yeah, okay. The whole town knows about the date. Cash hasn’t gone on one—at least not around here—in a long time. We’re all kinda rooting for him.”

  Olivia’s heart sped up, but then she remembered waking this morning to a text from Michael asking if she’d reconsidered his proposal and a text from her mother asking if she was crazy passing up a guy who could give her so much more than her dad ever gave to her. This afternoon her dad had actually called, and she’d let it go to voicemail just so she wouldn’t have to listen to him asking when she was going to grow up and come home to face her problems.