I blow out a harsh breath, tasting sweat on my tongue as I press my lips together. “No problem,” I mutter, picking up my baseball cap where I left it on a post. Pushing my hair back, I set it on my head. The cowboy hats are a common uniform around here, but sometimes they get in the way. I keep mine in my lodging half the time when doing chores, though I have a feeling while on my way to the main lodge, I’ll need to stop by and pick it up.
The guests love knowing they’re aroundrealcowboys. Part of the appeal and the gimmick, even if some of us aren’t even close to being them.
The boss and the other ranch hands disappear into their own trucks and leave to take the hay out. Meanwhile, I make the slow climb down from the loft and into the main barn.
Horses nicker when I pass, some butting their heads against the doors of their stalls. I walk by, nodding to a couple of the trainers gearing up to take guests out, likely on one of the advertised trail rides.
It doesn’t take me long to get to the employee lodging, put something a little less sweaty on, get my cowboy hat, and jump into my truck. I’m not sure what it is about today that has me feeling so…restless. It clings to every fibre of my being and doesn’t want to release me. My bones ache like they know I need to be doing something, but I just don’t know what.
I take the turn by the pond and pull around the main lodge. There are a few cars out front; families checking in and parties checking out, I assume. Before I jump out, I scrub a hand through my hair and push it under the hat. I don’t know what it is they want from me, and I can’t wrack my brain for any activities I’m meant to be helping with.
Shaking my head, I jump out and start for the entrance. I scan the small parking lot for any sign of Carl or his wife, Lucinda. The couple who owns Wild Vista Ranch have theirhands in just about everything. There’s probably some dance or a party they need help setting up for. The ranch hands might be tasked with working the paddocks and barn, but our job also extends to the guest side of the ranch when needed.
I almost miss her when my eyes pass over the lot. Sunlight shines against her silky dark hair, and the dress hugging every one of her curves almost makes her look out of place. Large sunglasses cover the upper portion of her face, obscuring the green eyes I know they hide.
It’s impossible, and yet I stumble to a halt to take her in as she heaves a purse onto her shoulder, looks around—though doesn’t seem to notice me—and walks towards the main lodge entrance.
“Ah, there you are,” the events coordinator says, appearing alongside Carl. “Need your help setting up the singles night over at the dance hall.”
My mouth goes dry as I watch the woman of my dreams—mywife—disappear inside the lodge. “What?” I ask as Carl claps me on the shoulder.
“Help,” Carl reiterates, chuckling. “Singles night.”
“Since when are we doing singles night?” Suddenly, I want to throw up. Would the universe really put me back on the path of my accidental wife only for her to be here for some ridiculoussinglesnight?
What are the chances she’s here for that and not me?
Couldshe be here for me, though?
You don’t even know if it’s her,I remind myself, teeth gritted, mouth dry.
“Since now,” Carl states, releasing my shoulder. “You go down, we’ll meet you there. It’s something new Lucinda wanted to try.”
With that, he and the new event coordinator head back to the main lodge. But I’m locked in place, can’t move as I wait for her to come back out.
Is it her? The woman I’ve been thinking about for months—years?
Or is this my heart’s last-ditch effort to keep the dream alive, even though Tucker made a good point about her?
I don’t seeher again, though the set up forsingles nighttakes a lot of energy and time. Part of me wishes I were with the others bailing hay or out with the horses. Not hanging streamers while Carl shouts orders or helping Lucinda set up tables formingling.
The only thing I can’t escape is the feeling of throwing up.
By the time Lucinda has the band set up and the food out buffet-style, I’m ready to crawl back to my lodging and sleep the day off. I’ve tried convincing myself the woman from check-inisn’tOlivia, but a random woman who looks similar enough. I hadn’t seen half of her face. So, I jumped to the wrong conclusion.
The woman who checked in is just that—a woman. One I don’t know.
“Oh, could you stick around just in case anything happens?” Lucinda asks, stopping me before I can make my escape out the back of the Saloon. The space has been transformed from the usual dance hall it acts as and now gives a more…romantic feel.
My boss pushes her long black hair behind her ear as she waits for my answer.
Fuck, I want to say no. But instead, I give her a nod. “Yeah, sure,” I murmur. “Where do you want me?”
“Just hang around the doors, keep an eye out for anyone who causes trouble. Oh! Our first singles have arrived! There will be folks from town, not just guests, so be wary. If you notice anyone drinking a little too much, there’s a minibus that’ll take townsfolk back into Saddlehorn, okay? Just guide them out.”
I give her a tight smile, then the woman is off, greeting her guests.
Slinking into the shadows, I lean against the far wall and simply watch. I can’t help myself. My gaze strays to the doorway where guests file in, getting name tags and drinks.
