by Liz Isaacson
The kitchen at the farmhouse buzzed with activity, as the family Christmas Eve dinner was about to start. She smoothed her hair off her face and glanced at the timer on the oven. She had twenty minutes before the ham needed to be basted again.
She could easily run out to the blacksmith shop to see Knox. She tried to push the idea away, but it already had her heart beating a little faster, and while the kitchen radiated heat, the temperature inside her was what spiked.
Everyone seemed busy enough. She could sneak away. After all, Georgia already had, and her chicken noodle soup sat on the back burner of the stove, just taking up space.
“Rhodes,” she said, turning to her brother as he got something out of the double-wide refrigerator. “Do you need me to go get Granny and Gramps?”
“No, I’ll go grab them. I need to get my presents from my cabin anyway.” He barely looked at her. The only time Betsy found the spotlight among her family was during mealtimes. It shouldn’t matter so much to her, but providing good food and getting complimented on it really meant something.
Betsy backed up a step, almost expecting Cami to say something to her. As her where she was going. Something. Her younger sister didn’t even look her way.
So Betsy spun on her heel and hurried into the mudroom off the side of the kitchen. She shoved her feet into a pair of snow boots that were two sizes too big and put on her coat. She hustled outside as she zipped it up, because she only had a few minutes.
The glowing, yellow lights in the buildings on the ranch brought a sense of comfort to her she hadn’t known she needed. She’d felt unsettled these past few months, and in the quiet moments before she went to bed, she allowed herself to admit the exact date everything in her life had been put in a blender and then turned on high.
The day Knox Locke had been hired at Quinn Valley Ranch.
She’d immediately gotten his number, as she had all the ranch hands’ numbers. She texted them in a group so they’d know if she’d have lunch at the homestead that day or not. She’d been immediately entranced by his dark green eyes, a more subdued version of his twin’s.
Betsy’s steps slowed. She couldn’t date her sister’s boyfriend’s brother. Could she?
Probably should talk to Georgia about it, she thought. But she didn’t turn back, and Georgia was going through a tough time with Logan right now. They weren’t exactly together anymore, and Betsy’s heart took courage.
If Georgia wasn’t dating Logan, she had no reason to object to Betsy starting something with Knox.
But every step Betsy took along the cleared path toward the blacksmith shop testified of something different. Pushing aside the doubts, she stuck her hands in her pockets, hoping for a bit of warmth. December in Idaho possessed a kind of icy brutality that pockets could not stave off.
The blacksmith shop would be warm. The thought drove her to move faster, and as she approached, she slowed. She felt like someone had tied her to a yo-yo in October, when Knox had shown up on the ranch wearing that delicious gray cowboy hat and saying he was their new farrier.
She’d texted him and asked him what he was doing for Christmas, and he’d said he had a ton of work to do for the new year since he was leaving town for a couple of weeks immediately following the holiday.
After that, he’d messaged. I’m going home for dinner.
He hadn’t asked her to come visit him. He never had, but Betsy had felt fireworks between them every time they were in the same room together. And it was time to find out if Knox did too.
“If he doesn’t, fine,” she whispered to herself, her breath steaming into a thick cloud in front of her. “You’ll find someone else.” That statement was ridiculous, as Betsy rarely left the ranch and hadn’t dated in…she couldn’t even remember how long. She went to church with her family, and she’d met a man here and there over the years.
But nothing had ever sparked as hotly as the flame between her and Knox. As evidenced by what had happened in the kitchen, her excitement for him grew just by thinking about him.
Still, she stood at the door of the blacksmith shop without going in. Would he think her too forward?
Now or never, she thought, the cold pressing down on her now. The tips of her ears would be frostbitten if she didn’t either go into the shop or hurry back to the house. She checked her phone—only twelve minutes left before the timer on her ham went off, and someone would know she’d snuck out.
She raised her hand to knock, deciding to be brave and really pound on the door. Her fist swung down at the same time the door opened, and she ended up punching Knox in the face.
He grunted and groaned and fell back a couple of steps. Both of his hands went to his face, and horror struck Betsy behind the ribs.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” Blessed warmth emanated from the shop, and she rushed forward to help him. “I’m sorry, Knox. I was just knocking to see if you were here.”
“I’m here,” he said through his fingers. He touched his nose, and his fingers came away blood-free. He inhaled and sniffed and met her eye.
Those fireworks went off, and Betsy stilled. The man before her had never indicated that he liked her for more than the woman who fed him sometimes. Perhaps there had been a moment or two over the past two and a half months where his gaze had lingered on her. Maybe an extra smile.
Or maybe she’d hallucinated those instances because she’d been crushing on him since his arrival on the ranch.
“Ready for your trip?” she asked, mentally kicking herself for such a stupid conversation topic. She was thirty-four-years-old, and she should be better at flirting with a man. Letting him know that she was interested, so that ball was in his court.
“Yep,” he said with a slow smile. “How’s the party prep coming?”
She glanced at her phone again. “I have about nine minutes before I have to be back.” She took a step closer to him. “I just thought….” She couldn’t finish, because she had no idea what to say. Or what she was thinking.
Foolishness raced through her, and Knox obviously had more experience with relationships than she did, because he said, “I was just heading out. Want to walk back up with me?”
“Yes,” she said, relief raging through her. She flashed him a tight smile and kept her hands clenched into fists in her pockets.
“What did you make for dinner?” he asked, following her out of the shop and turning back to lock it.
“Maple and brown sugar glazed ham,” she said. “We all make our own dishes, and they somehow come together into a meal.”
“Sounds nice,” he said.
“You could stay,” she said, immediately wanting to glue her lips together. She already knew he was going to his parents’ house. They’d already talked about this.
Knox looked at her, a curious edge in his eyes that could barely be seen through the thickening darkness. “I’m going to miss you while I’m gone.” He smiled at her, and the walk back to the house happened with clouds beneath her feet.
“Have fun on your cruise,” she said as she paused with her foot on the bottom step.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through her chest in the best possible way. “Yeah, me, my brother, and my parents. Going to be a real riot.”
“Is Logan going?”
“He was,” Knox said. “But then a job came up. So no, not this time.”
Betsy nodded, her smile seemingly stuck in place. “See you when you get back.”
“I hope so,” Knox said, and Betsy seized onto that hope and took it with her back into the homestead.
She’d just hung her coat on the peg when the timer on the oven went off. She darted around the corner and pulled her ham out of the oven. She basted the meat and ran a knife along all the slices.
“Dinnertime!” she called, and people got up from the couches and came into the kitchen. Rhodes had gone down the road to the cabins near the entrance, and Granny and Gramps shuffled forward to survey the food spread on the counter.
&nb
sp; Wheat bread, chicken noodle soup, scalloped potatoes, and ham. And of course, Rhodes’s corn and bacon dip. Betsy had given up the argument that an appetizer wasn’t really part of the meal, because Rhodes didn’t care what she thought—at least about this.
“Hey, Granny,” she said, linking her arm through her grandmother’s.
“There you are, dear,” she said. “I didn’t see you when I got here.”
Betsy’s whole body flushed. I’m going to miss you while I’m gone. “I ran outside to say good-bye to a friend,” she said just as a man moved in front of her.
“Logan,” Betsy said with a healthy dose of surprise in her voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh,” Georgia said, stepping out from behind the kitchen counter. “Everyone, Logan and I made up. He’s here for dinner.” She beamed at him, and Betsy welcomed him back even as her heart sank all the way to her toes. Maybe all the way into the floor.
They’d made up. She should be happy for her sister—and she was.
But it put her and Knox on fragile ground again. Thankfully, her mother engaged Logan in a conversation, sweeping him away from Betsy so she could allow the smile to slip from her face.
Everyone started serving themselves, and Betsy stood back the way she always did during mealtime. “Want me to get you something, Granny?”
“Soup and ham,” she said. “And that bread, and as much dip as will fit on the rest of the plate.”
Betsy giggled and picked up a plate and a bowl for her grandmother. “It’s no secret what you like,” she said, shaking her head.
“Well, some secrets are worth keeping,” Granny said. “And some aren’t.” She picked up a napkin and the silverware she needed.
Betsy looked at Granny and then focused on ladling some soup into her bowl. “What are you saying?”
“Was that Knox I saw leaving just before you came in?”
“I didn’t come in,” Betsy said, the lie bitter on her tongue. She glanced down the line, but Gramps was behind Granny, and he was still buttering a slice of Jessie’s honey whole wheat bread.
Her eyes met Granny’s again, and the older woman just smiled. “Oh, okay. I see how it is.” She touched her lips in the universal sign of a secret. “It’ll be our little secret.”
“I appreciate that,” Betsy said, almost under her breath. “It’s just….”
“I know what it is,” Granny said after a few seconds of silence. “Like I said, some secrets are worth keeping, and some aren’t. Maybe this one is, at least for a little while.”
Betsy finished loading her plate with the food her grandmother wanted and took it the table for her. She returned to the line and got herself some food before sitting down. Logan, of all people, sat right beside her and picked up his fork.
“So are you and Knox dating?” he asked, point blank.
“What?” Betsy scoffed though a path of worry burned through her with the speed of a racecar. “No.” She laid her napkin on her lap. “He’s the farrier and I see all the cowboys when they come to the homestead for meals.”
She turned away from him, her heart hammering in her chest. Had he seen her and Knox outside too? Had Knox said something to him? Jessie sat on her other side, and she said, “Hey, Jess. How’s that new software working?” Her sister managed the herd, the pregnancies, and the sale of cattle, and she’d just gotten a new tracking system a few weeks ago.
Jessie answered, but Betsy honestly didn’t hear her. Granny’s words drifted through her mind. Some secrets are worth keeping.
So she’d keep her crush on the gorgeous Knox Locke a secret. No problem. She could do that.
Couldn’t she?
SECRET SWEETHEART is coming in February 2019! Join Liz’s newsletter so you don’t miss the release.
Corn and Bacon Dip Recipe
Corn and Bacon Dip
1 pkg. cream cheese
1 c. sour cream
¼ c. mayo
2 garlic cloves, minced
¼ t. hot pepper sauce
1 can corn, drained
1 lb. bacon, cooked and crumbled
Combine everything. Cover and refrigerate for several hours. Stir again. Serve with your choice of crackers or vegetables.
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About Liz
Liz Isaacson is the author of the #1 bestselling Three Rivers Ranch Romance series, the #1 bestselling Gold Valley Romance series, the Brush Creek Brides series, the USA Today bestselling Steeple Ridge Romance series (Buttars Brothers novels), the Grape Seed Falls Romance series, and the Christmas in Coral Canyon Romance series (Whittaker Brothers and Everett Sisters novels), and the Last Chance Ranch Romance series.
She writes inspirational romance, usually set in Texas and Montana, or anywhere else horses and cowboys exist. She lives in Utah, where she teaches elementary school, taxis her daughter to dance several times a week, and eats a lot of Ferrero Rocher while writing.
Learn more about all her books here. Find her on Facebook, twitter, BookBub, and her website.
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CONTRACTED COWBOY
by Liz Isaacson
Copyright © 2018 by Elana Johnson, writing as Liz Isaacson
Published by AEJ Creative Works
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Cover by Erin Dameron-Hill
Interior Design by AEJ Creative Works
