Her Perfect Cowboy. Trish Milburn

Her Perfect Cowboy - Trish  Milburn


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dozen in the heart of Texas. Didn’t she?

      After a deep, fortifying breath, India resumed her trek back to work. She didn’t alter her path even though it would take her right past Liam. It wasn’t as if she could avoid him in the days ahead, so she might as well just get used to seeing him now. Maybe the infatuation would actually fade if she talked to him more.

      “Hey, Liam,” she said as she drew close. See, that wasn’t so hard.

      But then his eyes met hers, and they widened the slightest bit. It was enough to make her wonder why. Had she simply surprised him, or was there something more there?

      Now she was just being crazy. If she thought she had nothing in common with him, chances were he felt the same. She’d seen the deer-in-headlights look he’d worn when he’d stepped foot into Yesterwear the first time, as if he’d fallen through a hole into a different world. She’d seen it before on the faces of the men whose wives or girlfriends dragged them into the shop.

      “India,” Liam finally said after a moment’s hesitation. He glanced at the box in her hand. “That’s a big slice of pie.”

      “Actually, it’s salad. I’m being good today.”

      “What a shame.”

      Heat flooded India’s extremities, and she tried to tell herself that it was because of the midday heat. It couldn’t be because Liam had meant anything other than it was a shame she wasn’t going to enjoy a slice of pie. Her brain had trouble coming up with an appropriate response, but she was saved when Liam’s attention shifted to the back of his truck.

      A little girl with a dark brown ponytail stepped up beside him. It took a moment for the pieces to click into place. The girl’s eyes were what clinched it.

      “This must be your daughter,” India said.

      Liam placed one of his hands atop the girl’s head with such affection that India actually hurt inside. She’d never had that kind of fatherly love, and no matter how old she got she never seemed to find a way to stop missing what might have been.

      “Yes, this is Ginny, embarking on her first day of summer vacation by hanging with the old man. Ginny, this is India Pike. She’s the one in charge of the rodeo here.”

      Ginny’s forehead scrunched into furrows. “Really?”

      “Ginny,” Liam said in a warning tone.

      A second or two passed before India laughed.

      “I’m sorry,” Liam said, looking at India with apology written all over his face.

      “No, it’s okay. She’s got it pegged. After all, it is pretty absurd when you look at me.”

      “Still,” Liam said as he gently tugged Ginny to his side and playfully mussed her hair. “We don’t need to always say what we think.”

      “Sorry,” Ginny said. Her crooked smile made her even cuter than she was on first glance.

      “It’s okay.” India leaned forward and used her hand to pretend to block her words from Liam. “Any chance you want the job of running this rodeo?”

      Ginny giggled, causing India to smile.

      India glanced at Liam, and he had a smile on his face, as well. Lord, what was she doing? She should be maintaining a professional distance from him, not ingratiating herself with his young daughter.

      “You have the number for the workers who are going to make the upgrades at the fairgrounds?”

      Liam nodded. “We’re meeting them after we grab some lunch.”

      “Good. If there’s anything else you need, you have the number of the shop. I’ll be there until later this afternoon.”

      “Swing by when you close up. I’ll be able to show you how things are going.”

      Just when she thought she might get away with seeing him only once today... India’s nerves sparked, but she refused to let her purely physical reactions get the better of her. She just had to ride them out until they faded and common sense took over.

      “See you then.” She shifted her gaze to Liam’s daughter. “Nice to meet you, Ginny.”

      “You, too.”

      Anxious to get away, back to the familiarity of work, she gave Liam a nod and headed down the street without looking back.

      Despite telling herself that she needed to shove aside attraction to Liam in favor of detached professionalism, India found herself fighting a losing battle throughout the afternoon. And she wasn’t even where she could see him. It didn’t help that the number of customers coming into the shop decreased significantly thanks to the increasing heat outside. She kept busy rearranging displays in the front window, pricing her new shipment of stock and creating an entry form for the cupcake contest.

      But nothing she did kept her from looking at the clock what felt like every three seconds. As closing time drew near, she wondered if she should just stay at the store, continuing on until it got dark and the work at the fairgrounds was wrapped up for the day.

      India stopped folding decorated flare jeans that screamed the 1970s and shoved her hands onto her hips. This wasn’t her, not facing things head-on. If she’d made a habit of this kind of behavior, she never would have pulled herself out of poverty, gotten an education and come back to the town she loved but where there were at least some people who wouldn’t have been surprised if she never amounted to anything.

      She shook her head and finished folding the jeans. She always made a point to do her job well. That meant she would make sure the rodeo and accompanying activities were as successful as possible. To make that a reality, she couldn’t avoid the man tasked with ensuring they had a successful rodeo.

      When closing time came, India looked down at what she was wearing—a blue-and-white gingham top, white capri pants and denim ballet flats—and deemed the outfit safe for a trip to the fairgrounds. No heels to break off.

      The butterflies in her stomach returned when she arrived at the fairgrounds. She gathered her courage and got out of her car. The thunking of hammers on wood drew her to the side of the arena. There she found local handyman Len Goodall and his teenage son, Adrian. Len looked up from where he was replacing a board on the fence surrounding the arena.

      “Hey, India. You looking for Liam?”

      “Yeah.”

      He gestured with his hammer toward the far end of the arena.

      “Thanks.” She picked her way over the crunchy, brown grass. When the rodeo came around, they’d have to keep the dirt settled in the arena with water or nobody would be able to see any of the events. They’d be too busy choking on the dust kicked up by the animals.

      She rounded the end of the arena just in time to see Liam pause in his work on a gate to wipe the sweat on his shirtsleeve. Gone was the button-up he’d had on earlier. In its place was a white T-shirt that sported a picture on the back of a huge fish being pulled from the water by a fishing hook. She shuddered at the memory of the one time she’d gone fishing with her dad. She’d hated touching the worms they used as bait, couldn’t make herself put them on the hooks, and was seriously creeped out by the slimy feeling of the fish.

      “Hey,” he said when he finally spotted her.

      Just relax. “Hey. Looks like a hot job.”

      Liam glanced at the gate that led into the arena. “Yeah, but I’m just about done. Actually, if you’ll help me, I’ve only got one more board to attach.”

      She gave him an “Are you crazy?” look. “I’m not exactly dressed for manual labor.”

      He smiled as he took in what she wore. “Oh, I don’t know. Looks way more sensible than what you wore here the last time.”

      She shook her head. “What do you need?”

      He


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