Cowboy's Reckoning

“Henry?” She was startled to see him again. Had he forgotten something?

“I know you’re busy with the bar about to open and your lunch crowd on the way, but...” He had taken off his Stetson and now turned the brim in his fingers. He had nice hands, large but well proportioned. It was something she’d noticed the first time she’d met him. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner with me.”

She raised an eyebrow. The invitation was so unexpected and yet she realized looking at his expression that he’d been leading up to this for a while now. That he’d gotten up the courage made her smile. But his timing sure could have been better, though.

“I know this is short notice,” he added. “Are you free tonight?”

Tonight? She almost laughed. Tonight she was. Tomorrow? Well, that could be another story. Her answer seemed to surprise them both. “Yes. I’d love to have dinner with you.”

Henry broke into a huge smile that warmed her to her toes. “Good.” He looked pleased. “Say six? I could pick you up at your house, if that’s all right?”

She returned his smile. “Six at my house.” She gave him the address, but she had a feeling he already knew where she lived. Henry wasn’t the kind of man who jumped without looking first. Also, Gilt Edge was a small town.

The cowboy put his hat back on, tipped the brim and said around his grin, “See you tonight, then.” And he was gone again.

Billie Dee stood in the middle of the kitchen, surprised that she needed to catch her breath. She had a date. A date. She laughed at the irony. But she felt better about everything, even though it made absolutely no sense. Tomorrow... Well, she’d deal with that when it happened. But tonight... Tonight she had a date with a handsome cowboy. She laughed again, feeling young and excited and alive—at least for a while. And yet as she turned back to her cooking, tears burned her eyes. Why now?

She’d joked that she’d come to Montana to find herself a handsome cowboy, but she’d never dreamed that one would actually show up at her age. Fighting tears, she began to sing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” as the timer went off. As she pulled the large pan of brownies from the oven, Mariah came in, one hand on her protruding belly.

“Tell me I smell brownies,” the young woman said.

Her back to Mariah, she hurriedly wiped at her tears. “I was just about to cut some to bring out to you.”

“You are the best, Billie Dee,” Mariah said and gave her a quick hug. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

* * *

“YOU HAVE A DATE?” C. J. Larson asked, giving his father the once-over later that evening. “Is that a new shirt?”

Henry smiled at his youngest son. At twenty-seven, C.J. was four inches taller and stronger looking than his older brother, Tom. It always surprised him when he realized that his sons were now grown men.