Harper claps her hands as Emmy launches into a dramatic reenactment, complete with exaggeratedbucking noises and flailing arms. “We got ourselves a regular rodeo queen in training!” she declares.
Then she shoots me a grin. “Guess we’ll have to start charging admission. Maybe I’ll sell lemonade, you can do trick riding, and Cash can wear tight jeans and tip his hat a lot.”
Cash coughs. “That’s already part of the job description.”
“Yeah, but now it comes with a fan club,” Harper teases.
He mutters something about needing hazard pay, but I catch the glint of amusement in his eyes. The kind that says he doesn’t mind the spotlight, at least not when it’s shining from across the fence line like this. of her 'rodeo moment' complete with sound effects and wild arm waving. “Okay, little wrangler, settle down before you lasso the barn cat.”
Emmy giggles, then tries to reach up for me. “Mama, you need to yee-haw more.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You think I’m not yee-hawing enough?”
“You gotta yee-haw from your belly,” she says seriously.
Harper lets out a full laugh. “She’s not wrong.”
Cash smirks and leans toward me. “You heard the boss. Deep belly yee-haws only.”
I roll my eyes, then draw in an exaggerated breath and belt out a playful, “Yee-haw!” that echoes through the corral.
Emmy squeals with laughter, and even Harper doubles over, clutching her side.
But it’s the way Cash looks at me, eyes crinkled, lips curved, the full smile he never gives freely, that tightens something low in my stomach.
That laughter settles into a silence, the kind that holds weight and warmth all at once.
And when our eyes meet again, it lingers, longer than it should. A shared breath. A knowing glance. Something real.
We both look away at the same time, but the moment stays.
Like the sun hanging just above the barn roof, not quite ready to set.
But even as I bask in that warmth, something shifts in Cash’s expression, just a flicker, but enough to make my stomach dip. Like a storm cloud passing behind his eyes.
He glances toward the road, jaw tightening for the briefest second before smoothing it away.
I don’t ask. Not yet.
But something’s coming. I never seem to have happiness for this long.
And I can feel it in my bones, it’s about him. And it won’t stay buried for long.
Chapter nine
Casanova Cowboy Confirmed
Cash
They always said this town had ears. Turns out it’s got a damn loud mouth too.
It starts small, just a sideways glance from Mrs. Caldwell at the feed store, the way she pretends not to know my name even though I hauled her fence posts last spring. Then it’s Levi, handing me my coffee with a too-casual, “You seen the group chat this morning?” like he knows something I don’t. I shake my head, and he just smirks. “Never mind. You’ll see.”
At the time, I brush it off. A harmless tease, maybe. Just another morning in a town that thrives on stories.
But later, after everything at the store, when I finally open that damn group chat, it hits like a punch to the gut. The photo. The comments. The way they rip me to pieces without even bothering to ask the truth.
My hands shake around the phone, rage curling low and sharp. They don’t see the man I’ve tried to become. They don’t want to. Wilder Creek has its villains andsaints picked out like fairground ribbons, and I’ve been wearing black since the day I could drive. But I’m done being their cautionary tale.
