The Cowboy Next Door & Jenna's Cowboy Hero: The Cowboy Next Door / Jenna's Cowboy Hero

“Maybe you could try barrel racing?” He made the suggestion without looking at her.

“Okay.”

Anything. It was all a part of the dream package she’d created for herself. She wanted this life, with these people. For a long time she’d wanted love and acceptance.

She’d found those things in Gibson. Now she wanted horses and a farm of her own. Jay wouldn’t understand that dream; he’d always had those things.

“Lacey, we’re not that different. This has been my life, but I came home to reclaim what I left behind.”

“And it cost you?”

“It cost me.” He slowed, and then eased back into a space next to another truck and trailer.

“Are you team roping tonight?” She looked back, at the pricked ears of the horse in the trailer.

“Yeah, and I think I have to ride a bull. Cody signed me up. He says he needs a little competition from time to time.”

“Because Bailey is keeping him close to home.” She bit down on her bottom lip and looked out the window.

The truck stopped, the trailer squeaking behind it, coming to a halt. The horse whinnied and other horses answered. From the pens behind the arena, cattle mooed, restless from being corralled for so long.

Lacey breathed deep, loving it all. And the man next to her…she glanced in his direction. He was a surprise. He had invited her.

And she had to process that information.

Time to come back to earth, and to remember what it felt like to be hurt, to have her trust stomped on. Lacey unbuckled the baby and pulled her out of the seat, a good distraction because Rachel’s eyes were open and she smiled that baby half-smile. Drool trickled down her baby chin.

“Do you think Corry will stay?” Jay had unbuckled his seat belt and he pulled the keys from the ignition of the truck.

The question was one that Lacey had considered, but didn’t want to. It made her heart ache to think of Corry leaving, not knowing where she would take the baby. Lacey shrugged and pulled Rachel, cooing and soft, close to her.

“I really don’t know. I don’t want to think about that.” She kissed the baby’s cheek. “But I guess I should.”

“Maybe she’ll stay.”

“She won’t. She’s restless. She’s always been restless.”

“I understand restless.” He stepped out of the truck. Lacey, baby in her arms and diaper bag over her shoulder, followed. She met up with him at the back of the trailer. The small glimpse into his life intrigued her. He’d never been open.

“You don’t seem restless.” She stood back as he opened the trailer and led the horse out. Not his horse, he’d explained, but one he was training. The animal was huge, with a golden-brown coat that glistened.

He glanced at her, shrugging and then went back to the horse. He pulled a saddle out of the tack compartment of the trailer. Expertly tooled and polished, the leather practically glowed in the early evening light.

The lights of the arena came on and Lacey knew that the bleachers would be filling up. But she couldn’t walk away because Jay had stories, just like everyone else.

“How could you be restless?” She pushed, forgetting for a moment that he was little more than a stranger.

“Why is that so unusual?” He had the saddle on the horse and was pulling the girth strap tight around the animal’s middle. The horse, a gentle giant, stood still, head low and ears pricked forward.

“You don’t seem restless.”

“Really? And what makes you think you know anything about me?” He straightened, tall and all cowboy in new Wranglers and worn boots. His western shirt was from the mall, not the farm store.

Contradictions. And she loved a mystery.

“So, tell me.” She waited, holding the baby in the crook of her arm, but dropping the diaper bag.

“I grew up on a farm in a small town, Lacey. I wanted to live in the city, to experience life in an apartment with close neighbors.”

“And you loved it?” She smiled, because he couldn’t have.

He grinned back at her. “I did, for a while. But then the new wore off and it was just noise, traffic and the smell of exhaust.”

“So you came home because you got tired of city life?”

“I came home.” And he didn’t finish, but she knew that he’d come home because of a broken heart. Sometimes she saw it in his eyes. Sometimes he looked like someone who had been broken, but was gluing the pieces back together.

“Your parents are glad.”

“I know they are.” He slipped the reins over the neck of the horse. “And Lacey, before you start thinking I’m one of those poor strays behind the diner, I’m not. Cindy didn’t break my heart.”

He winked. For a moment she almost believed that his heart hadn’t been broken. For a fleeting second she wanted to hold him. To be held by a cowboy with strong arms and roots that went deep in a community.

“I didn’t…” She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t need to know? Or she didn’t plan on trying to fix him?

“You did. Your eyes get all weepy and you look like you’ve found someone who needs fixing. I don’t. I’m glad to be home.”

He was standing close to her, and she hadn’t realized before that his presence would suck the air out of her space, not until that moment. Her lungs tightened inside her chest and she took a step back, kissing the baby’s head to distract her thoughts from the man, all cowboy, standing in front of her.

He cocked his head to the side and his mouth opened, but then closed and he shook his head. “I need to find Cody.”

“Of course.” She backed away. “I’ll meet up with you later.”

And later she would have her thoughts back in control and she wouldn’t be thinking of him as the cowboy who picked up those silly dog figurines and put them back on the shelf while she swept up the pieces of what had been broken.

Chapter Five

Lacey hurried away, ignoring the desire to glance over her shoulder, to see if he was watching. He wouldn’t watch. He would get on his horse, shaking his head because she had climbed into his life that way.

She had no business messing in his life; she was a dirty sock, mistakenly tossed in the basket with the clean socks. She couldn’t hide from reality.

Jay was the round peg in the round hole. He fit. He was a part of Gibson and someday, he’d marry a girl from Gibson. And Lacey didn’t know why that suddenly bothered her, or why it bothered her that when he looked at her, it was with that look, the one that said she was the community stray, taken in and fed, given a safe place to stay.

The way she fed stray cats behind the diner.

“Hey, Lacey, up here.”

She looked up, searching the crowd. When she saw Bailey, she waved. Bailey had a seat midway up the bleachers, with a clear view of the chutes. Lacey climbed the steps and squeezed past a couple of people to take a seat next to her friend.