“I’m telling you right now, Rebecca, if you don’t get your butt into town tonight, I’m sending Jordan out hunting for you tomorrow. I haven’t seen you in so long I’ve forgotten what you even look like.”

I rolled my eyes at my friend Brooke on the other end of the phone as she kept talking.

“Wait. Are you blonde? Brunette? A redhead? See, I can’t even remember.”

“I haven’t been blonde since that disaster junior year of high school.” I smiled at the memory of trying to force my jet-black hair to a platinum blonde color as Brooke laughed. It had resulted in me looking more like a skunk with striped hair than the runway model look I’d been trying for.

“Oh yeah, I’d almost forgotten.” Little liar, Brooke remembered everything, including that I’d been avoiding her phone calls for the last two weeks, which she was now determined to get to the cause of. Hence the threat of sending Jordan my way. “Seriously, you’re coming and you’re talking, even if I have to get you drunk to do it. You’re hiding and I don’t like it.”

“I’m not hiding, Brooke, I’m busy.”

“I’ve heard that before, too.”

“Yeah, but I’m not lying now, I’m telling the truth.” I tapped my pen on my desk in the office where I’d been recording cattle information Cooper and I had taken that day. Some days I swore that eighty percent of the work on the ranch was paperwork.

Plus, I really didn’t want to tell Brooke about Cooper. So far, in the two weeks he’d been here, he hadn’t once had an excuse to leave the ranch, and the few times I’d had deliveries, he’d hidden in the barn when I asked him to.

At this point, I was no longer clear if I was hiding people from him, or if I was hiding him from people. Either way, I wasn’t sure I was ready to explain any of it.

I also knew Brooke wouldn’t give in.

“Okay. I’ll come tonight.” She screamed and I pulled my phone from my ear, cringing at the noise. “I also have something to tell you,” I said when she quit screeching. “And, I’m only telling you because I know I can trust you, but Max sent someone out here to help me this summer—”

“Your uncle Max?”

“Yes. And I’ve been busy getting him acclimated to everything. That’s it.”

She paused, her silence the weight of a bull on my chest.

“Him?” she finally asked.

It wasn’t my place to tell her about Cooper, but at some point he had to figure I’d talk to someone about him.

Plus, I was beginning to think I had to. Things between Cooper and I were getting weird. Like, we were friends. Maybe. Sort of?

Twice now he’d come over to have dinner with me which we’d eaten out on the patio, but more often than that he’d shown up while I was sitting outside, going over spreadsheets or perusing farming magazines and he hadn’t hesitated to refill my wineglass or sit with me.

The last time I went into town I stocked my fridge with beer for him.

So, yeah, we were friends. Yet, when he left at night and gave me that hand flip on his way back to the guesthouse, there was this weird lingering feeling in my stomach. There was an even stronger disliked feeling in my chest when I saw him in the morning, already in the barn, cleaning out the stalls and brushing the horses.

Like my thoughts alone had conjured him, Cooper appeared in the doorway to my office. I gripped the phone tighter at his presence, and the way he always casually leaned against a doorframe with his broad shoulder, but there was never anything casual about his expression. He was always focused, intent on whatever I was teaching him.

He’d even been there the morning Paisley had delivered her kid, who he immediately named Pepper because it was all gray and black.

Cooper had smiled, and not caring the kid was still covered in slimy amniotic fluid, he’d picked it up and held it to his chest.

He smiled at me so hard my chest ached from the beauty of the moment. “That was the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he’d said, and set the kid back down by Paisley.

Now, he was in my office, KU hat in his hands in front of him, curling the bill, frowning at me.

“I’ll be there later,” I told Brooke. “And I’ll tell you what I can. I promise.”

“Good. I’ll put Andrew on standby as our driver.”

Her husband didn’t need to be on standby. He always drove us home when we went out.

“See you soon, Brooke.”

“Can’t wait to see you.” I was smiling at the sweetness in her tone but dropped it when I looked back at Cooper.

“Everything okay?”

“You going out tonight?”

We spoke at the same time and he grinned at me, flipping out one of his hands. “You first.”

“That was Brooke, a relentless, pestering friend I have who’s insisting I meet her out.”

“Ah. I see. So why do you look like you’re going to puke?”

He wasn’t altogether wrong. I ignored that he essentially said I looked like crap. I most likely did after an afternoon spent doing paperwork. It was my nemesis, but I had to get better at staying on top of it.

My fingers drummed on my desktop. “Being in town isn’t easy for me. Everyone knows—”

“About Joseph,” he tried to helpfully supply.

It wasn’t. There was something I didn’t like about my husband’s name coming from Cooper’s lips. I flinched whenever he said Joseph’s name.

Cooper and I rarely talked about either of our spouses and on the rare times we did, my throat tightened when I talked about Joseph. Yet it still felt easier to talk about Joseph to Cooper than to other people. Perhaps because he didn’t know him and didn’t have his own memories or respect for a man I still didn’t know if I still loved or despised. At the very least, I figured it was because we could understand each other’s pain in ways others couldn’t imagine.

And some nights, as I sat by the fire or got ready for bed, I didn’t feel the same cursing grief after I’d talked about my husband. He was there with me, always, but occasionally, I went to bed with a peace surrounding me instead of soul-sucking despair.

I wasn’t sure if I liked the peace and why I had it or hated it.

“And there’s you,” I said.

“Me?” Brows slowly arched and his spine straightened.

“I told Brooke I had someone here helping me at Max’s insistence. I didn’t say who, but it’s just…I can’t lie to her, either.”

He shoved his hat onto his head and adjusted the bill. “I hadn’t realized the position I’d put you in being here, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not that. I would lie to Brooke if I could. But I literally can’t. She’s a human lie detector. At the least, she’s a Rebecca-style lie detector.”

Cooper grinned. Not for the first time I noticed how tan he was becoming. The pop of his white teeth shone more richly against his olive skin. Nor was it the first time his smile warmed me to the tips of my toes.

I pushed past the unwanted sensation.

“I have to go though. People gossip more when I hide away too long.” It’d been months since I’d been to town for anything more than grocery errands, and I’d even taken to having the animals’ feed and mineral blocks delivered so I didn’t have to set foot into the feed store.

Ranchers talked. A lot.

He lifted his KU hat, swiped his forehead and resettled it. Pushing off the doorway, he walked toward my desk—toward me with a gleam in his eyes I hadn’t yet seen.

“There’s only one solution then.”

“What?”

“I go with you.”

That couldn’t happen. Eighty percent of the people in town or at The Tavern on Main wouldn’t recognize him. That still left too high of a risk someone would. And at least sixty percent would care I was with a man, regardless of who he was.

“You can’t.” My ponytail whipped my neck as I shook my head. “What if—”

“Leave that to me. I could use a night out too, and this way if someone gives you problems, I’m there to handle it.”

That definitely couldn’t happen. Jordan would hear about it. And I hadn’t even thought of my brother. He’d called and left a handful of messages over the last couple of weeks I hadn’t bothered to return, and his last one was irritated enough I knew he was already bound to show up. If I went to town with Cooper, that visit would be imminent.

“I’ll call Brooke and cancel. Maybe have her here instead.”

I reached for my phone, but before I could pick it up, Cooper’s hand covered mine.

“What’s going on?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. Opening them, I avoided his gaze and dipped my head.

His hand covering mine grabbed my attention. Cooper was so much larger than me. Larger even than Joseph though I always tried to forget I was even comparing the two. Now it was impossible. His hand was warm. Long, thick fingers with dirt caked into his knuckles and beneath his fingernails showed just how hard he’d really been working.

Calluses on his fingers and palm rubbed against the back of my hand. And in between his fingers was the shine of my ring.

I yanked my hand from beneath his and shoved it into my lap.

My flesh burned. How dare I even think of another man touching me. And liking it.

“Rebecca.”

At my name, I jerked my head up. “What?”

“What’s wrong?”

He was almost as relentless as Brooke. And in the KU hat, they’d probably become best friends in no time. When Brooke wasn’t scouring Nordstrom’s sales to be as fashionable as possible on her budget, she was decked out in royal blue and crimson to cheer on the Jayhawks.

She was also part of the twenty percent who would recognize him. Crap.

“Maybe it’s best if you don’t meet Brooke at all.” It came out harsher than I intended.

Shock flashed in his eyes right before something else appeared.

Disappointment. It cooled the room by ten degrees and I fought a shiver.

“Want to tell me why?”

No, thank you very much. There was no way to get out of the hole I was quickly burying myself in.

“What if someone recognizes you?”

“If that’s the problem, no need to worry. I have a wig that worked for me getting here.”

“Oh.”

Satisfied, he grinned. “What time are we leaving?”

“Seven.” He nodded and turned toward the door. He had to understand.

“Cooper. I haven’t been seen with a man since…” I couldn’t finish the thought and I looked at the window to hide the tears in my eyes. “People will talk.” I barely managed to choke it out. “They talk enough.”

A shadow fell over my lap and then Cooper was in front of me.

I froze.

He crouched down until our eyes were at the same level.

“You could have just said that. I understand not wanting to be watched and gossiped about.”

I smiled and shook my head. “It’s embarrassing, and I hate that I avoid town and my friends, but it’s hard to be on everyone’s radar, too.”

I was sick of it. But I was also sick of worrying about it. At some point, I had to get over the looks and whispers, didn’t I? And who knew, maybe Brooke had a point. Maybe becoming the recluse rancher only made things worse.

These decisions sucked. I opened my mouth to put everything I was thinking into words when Cooper said, “I can stay here.”

He would, too. He said it with all the honesty in his tone and expression, but beneath that, there was still the desire to go with me. Who could blame him? He’d been cooped up, hiding out in a thousand square foot shack without cable for weeks.

“No. We’ll go, but wear your wig. Brooke loves all things about big cities and Hollywood. She’ll recognize you in a second.”

“Will she—”

“She won’t say anything if I tell her not to. She’s bossy and loud but loving and loyal. At some point, I’ll have to tell her though.”

“Okay.” His hands went to his knees and he shoved up to standing. “It’s a date.”

My face and neck went cold, he must have seen because he cringed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

“Sure?”

“Yup.” Goodness. I was being a fool. “It just took me by surprise is all. I know what you meant.”

“Okay.” He stepped back, the distance between us made it easier to breathe again. “Then if we’re good, I’m going to go shower the manure off me. Which”—his lips twitched—“is not something I ever thought I’d say.”

Unbidden, a short laugh burst from me. “Go,” I said, laughing. “Go and wash the shit away.”

“If only I could.” His eyes darkened and for a moment, I saw his pain. The pain of losing Camilla and I realized two things as he disappeared.

One, we were in different circumstances, but he truly did know my pain in ways other people couldn’t.

Two, no truer words could ever be spoken.

If only we really could just wash away the shit in our lives.

Maybe I couldn’t. I couldn’t erase it, but maybe I could live my life in a way that made the shit easier to manage.

Perhaps it was time.

Seven months. Seven months since my husband died and I’d trudged through my grief like a badge of honor, instead of honoring Joseph and the life I’d always thought we were building.

Perhaps it was time to do what I know he’d desperately want me to.

“I’ll try to be happy, Joseph. I promise. For you, because you’d hate me like this, wouldn’t you? Especially since some of it’s your own damn fault.” As always when I talked to him, yelled at him, cursed him, and cried for him, I couldn’t hide my anger. Or my love.

That was the problem with losing him with unsettled arguments lying between us. He was ripped away from me before I could understand any of it. Or apologize. Or forgive him. I still loved him as equally as I was still so damn angry with him.

“Fine,” I said, tears streaming down my cheeks, like he’d actually spoken back to me. I grazed my thumb over his smiling face on the picture frame from our wedding I kept on my desk. We’d been married in Kansas City, at a beautiful church, at my mom’s insistence. All I’d wanted was to get married behind the house with the land behind us and our closest friends surrounding us.

But my irritation with my mom hadn’t come close to surpassing the joy I’d felt the day I walked down the aisle to Joseph. His short brown hair, styled nicely for once, his glimmering blue eyes on mine, tears on his cheeks that rolled freely and without shame as I made my way to him on my dad’s arm.

“We’re going to make a beautiful life, you and I,” he’d said.

I’d smiled up at him through my own blurred vision. “I know.”

He’d grinned back, moving closer and whispering, “And we’re going to have a helluva lot of fun doing it too. Promise me.”

As always when it came to Joseph, there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t give him or promise him. It was time to uphold the promise, despite him not being here, or him upholding his part.

“I really miss you, damn it.” I pushed off the chair and moved out of the office.

I had a life to start living. I’d never get the answers I needed without finding the one person who held them. There was no way in hell that was ever going to happen.