Trish Milburn

Marrying the Cowboy


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don’t mean just after the storm.” He took another bite and took his time swallowing it. “All the time Mom was sick, Verona was bringing over casseroles and cakes. And don’t think I don’t know you’re the one who set up the mowing and gardening brigade.”

      “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      He bumped her shoulder with his. “Deny it all you want, but you’ll never know how much it helped Mom to see her garden doing so well last spring.”

      A lump formed in Elissa’s throat at the memory, at how the garden had bloomed with more life each day as Pete’s mom’s had slipped away. Elissa didn’t spend that much time with her own mother anymore, but her heart still squeezed with a horrible pain at the idea of losing her. And Pete had lost not one but both parents before he should have. At the thought of how alone he was, how much more alone he’d be without friends, she found herself reaching over and squeezing his hand.

      A sizzle of new awareness raced up her arm, but she didn’t allow herself to show it. What Pete needed now was a friend, and that’s exactly what she was and would always be to him.

      Pete gave her hand a brief squeeze back then held the pie up toward her. She realized they’d eaten half of it already.

      “If we both wake up with stomachaches, it will serve us right,” she said.

      “You want to stop?”

      “Are you kidding?” She grabbed the pie and took a big bite.

      Pete laughed. “Yeah, I guess we need to get rid of the evidence.”

      “Exactly. And then plead ignorance in the morning.”

      “Or make sure we’re gone before Verona notices.”

      Elissa stopped with a bite halfway to her mouth, then met Pete’s gaze. They gave each other a knowing look.

      “Yeah, you’re right. Plead ignorance.”

      They slipped into silence as they devoured the rest of the pie. When Elissa sat with the empty pie pan in her hand, she moaned.

      “Ugh, I can’t believe we ate that entire pie.”

      Pete leaned his elbows back against the porch. “Felt good, though, didn’t it?”

      “For now. Not sure how I’ll feel in a few minutes.”

      Elissa looked up at the sky again in time to see a shooting star. She didn’t point it out to Pete. Instead, she used her wish for him, that all the bad things were finally over for him. To her way of thinking, he’d already gotten his life’s quota of bad taken care of and was due a great future.

      The sound of a truck engine and the rattle of a trailer drifted up the street from Main.

      Elissa jerked her gaze to Pete. “God, I just realized I haven’t asked you about Frankie. Is he okay? The stables?”

      “All safe.”

      She heard the relief in his voice. At least he hadn’t been dealt that blow, as well. That was too horrible to think about. He’d had Frankie almost as long as she’d known Pete. Even though Pete didn’t use Frankie to rodeo anymore, he still went riding whenever he got the chance.

      “Thank goodness.”

      “That reminds me,” he said. “I hate to ask another favor, but do you have time to run me out to Walter Stone’s place in the morning?”

      It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, pointing out that she still had an incredible amount of work to do at the nursery. But she shoved that thought away. Hadn’t she just been thinking that Pete deserved to have things go his way?

      “Sure. Why?”

      “Greg said that Walter has a truck for sale that I can probably afford.”

      You won’t have to drive him places if he gets his own truck. The little voice in her head taunted her, knowing that something weird was going on with Elissa’s feelings toward Pete, that part of her wanted to keep distance between them. She mentally smacked the owner of the voice. The odd feelings would go away if she just ignored them. Wasn’t the fact that they were sitting out here eating pie like the good friends they always had been proof of that?

      After a couple more minutes of enjoying the quiet of the evening, Elissa lifted the empty pie tin. “What am I going to do with this?”

      “I have an idea.” Pete took the tin from her and stood. When he headed inside, Elissa followed him.

      He went straight to the kitchen, grabbing a sheet of the smiley-face notepaper off the pad hanging on the front of the fridge. She watched as he first washed and dried the tin plate then placed it on the countertop. He grabbed a pen and started writing on the notepaper.

      “What are you writing?”

      He didn’t answer, but when he finished he tapped the paper and moved away toward the hallway.

      Curious, she checked out what he’d written.

      Elissa ate your pie. I tried to stop her, but she was determined.

      “Why, you...” Elissa crumpled the note in her hand, turned and ran for Pete.

      With a wide smile, he ran down the hallway and into the guest room. She wasn’t fast enough to catch him before he closed and locked the door. “You’re a rat.”

      Verona’s door opened. “What the devil are you two doing?”

      Elissa heard the sound of Pete’s muffled laughter on the other side of the door. Keeping the crumpled note hidden in her hand, she said, “Pete ate the entire pie you made for the poker game. I tried to stop him, but he seemed mighty determined to eat the whole thing.”

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