Loving A Lonesome Cowboy
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She took Misty’s hand as they walked the short distance to town, hoping that the apple and cheese and crackers she’d given her daughter for lunch would stay with her until they returned. Until Sara got a job and padded their meager nest egg, there’d be no more restaurant meals for them.
After two attempts to get Misty to talk, they ended up making the five-minute walk in silence. Although her daughter had always been a shy quiet child, Sara had noticed an increased withdrawal since they’d left Dallas, and she tried not to push.
It was difficult, though, because even while she knew they’d done the right thing by leaving, she felt horrible guilt. Especially when Misty’s eyes lit up when they passed store windows, displaying all the latest toys for Christmas. There was no way Sara would be able to afford the kind of lavish Christmas Misty was used to, and if no one answered Sara’s ad soon, they could very well be spending Christmas morning in the train station.
Shivering at the thought, she hurried them toward Della’s House of Beauty and one of two bulletin boards where she’d placed her ad. She stared in dismay. Below the neatly printed offer of holiday housecleaning, she’d included a row of easy-to-tear-off strips with the motel’s phone number. Not a single one had been taken.
She swallowed hard, then forced a smile for Misty. “Okay, let’s walk over to Manny’s store.”
“Can I have an ice-cream sundae?”
“It’s too cold for ice cream, honey.” And ice cream was too expensive. But at Misty’s disappointed expression, Sara added, “How about a cherry sucker?”
Her daughter lifted a shoulder. “I guess.”
“Come on.” She ruffled Misty’s strawberry-blond curls, then tugged her down the sidewalk. “That’s your favorite.”
Manny’s was crowded today, and several people stood near the door talking and blocking Sara’s view of the bulletin board. When she finally ducked in close enough to see, her heart fell. Again, no one had taken a single phone number.
She shouldn’t be disappointed or surprised, she told herself. In a town this small and remote, people probably didn’t hire domestic help. Sara herself hadn’t grown up with that kind of luxury. It wasn’t until she’d married Cal that she’d had a maid to make her bed each morning and a cook to provide their meals.
Now, she’d give anything for the opportunity to scrub someone else’s floor. It would mean a Christmas tree and presents for Misty.
“Come on, kiddo, let’s go get that sucker I promised you.” She gave her daughter a bright smile, then froze when she saw a man stop at the bulletin board and finger her ad.
He was tall, slim, his hair dark and kind of long, what she could see of it under his black Stetson. The blue denim jacket he wore was faded nearly gray, his jeans were well-worn and so were his boots.
After staring at the ad for a moment, he withdrew a piece of paper from an envelope, read it, then looked at the ad again. Although his posture was straight and proud, there was a slight slump to his shoulders that gave him an air of defeat. When he reached out and tore off one of the strips with her phone number, her heart thudded.
“I thought we were going to buy my sucker.”
Sara glanced at her daughter, then tugged her closer, her gaze shooting back to the man. “We will, honey, in just a minute.”
When he turned around, Sara bowed her head slightly and averted her eyes. It wouldn’t do to have a prospective employer see her spying on him. She waited until he started to pass them and briefly gave him a sideways glance.
She was only quick enough to catch his profile and the fact that he was badly in need of a shave. What ultimately drew her attention was the wide berth others seemed to give him and the stares and whispers in his wake.
Great. She finally had a hot prospect and he was probably the town ax murderer. She sighed. She sure knew how to attract the misfits, just like honey drew flies.
She watched him walk away, surprised at the slight stirring in her chest when he stopped and one side of his mouth lifted at two little girls. He tipped his Stetson to them and they giggled, then ran off.
Just then Judy Hawkins, who owned the corner diner, came out of Manny’s. Sara had gotten to know her a little when she and Misty had first come to town and they could afford to eat there twice a day.
“Hi, Sara, Misty.” Judy shifted her grocery bag to her other arm. “I haven’t seen you two this past week.”
“I’ve been dieting.” Sara shrugged, too embarrassed to admit the truth. She was almost broke.
Judy let out a howl of laughter. “Lose another ounce and you’ll be wearing Misty’s clothes.”
Misty made a face. “We didn’t bring that much.”
Sara squeezed her daughter’s hand. Now wasn’t the time for her suddenly to get talkative. “See that man over there?” Sara nodded toward the guy who’d seemed interested in her ad, already turning the corner. “Do you know who he is?”
Judy craned her neck and frowned. “The one who just disappeared down Second Street? Looked like Ethan Slade, except he doesn’t come to town much any more.” Judy stared curiously at Sara. “Did he have dark hair, brown eyes and a deep cleft in his chin?” Sara nodded. “That’s Ethan, all right, nice piece of man flesh, but you don’t want to get mixed up with him.”
Heat climbed Sara’s face at the implication in the older woman’s tone. She should set the record straight, tell Judy why she’d asked about him, but pride held Sara back. “It’s not what you think—”
A horn blasted, and Judy’s gaze shot toward the street. “There’s my ride. See you at the diner, huh?”
Sara nodded and watched her hurry toward the dirty white sedan. Since she only knew Judy casually, it was difficult to read her expression, but in spite of her warning, Judy hadn’t seemed afraid of or horrified by the man. There had almost been a trace of sympathy in her eyes.
Sara’s gaze strayed toward the corner of Second and Main. Still, Judy had said not to get mixed up with him, and the last thing Sara needed was any more trouble. As much as she hated to, instinct told her she’d better let this opportunity slide….