Her Cowboy Boss

You’re too young for him to take you seriously. She could hear what her mother would say in that place in the back of her mind where Winona’s voice would always live. Don’t lose your heart to a man who isn’t losing his.

Had her mother made that mistake with Louis? Avery wished she knew.

Avery looked around the kitchen at the dirty pots, the plastic bins full of plates and bowls. The majority of this job would be the cleaning up, she could already tell. But she wasn’t actually here to be a cook. She’d have to find a way to cross paths with her father if she was going to make good use of this time. From what she could see of the ranch, Louis was a prosperous man. His employees ate well, and they all seemed happy enough to be working here, so she could assume they were paid decently, too.

Avery hadn’t had much growing up. Her mother worked hard, and they lived in a small apartment above the flower shop that was technically a one-bedroom place, but her mother had artfully transformed a walk-in closet to be a second bedroom for Avery. They hadn’t traveled much, except for one trip to Disneyland when Avery was about ten. Her mother had saved for years to make it happen, and when she received a small inheritance from an aunt, they’d packed their bags for the only vacation that Avery and her mother would ever take together.

And all that time, her father was running a ranch with cattle and barns, ranch hands and horses... Had her father known about her mother’s pregnancy but hadn’t wanted to be involved? It was possible. Maybe he was an accomplished liar, though he didn’t seem the type. But if he hadn’t known about Avery’s existence, that meant her mother had simply denied her daughter a relationship with her father and the financial stability that would have come with it.

She hadn’t decided what she felt about all this yet. Her mother never did anything without good reason, and that included the little things like buying candy along with the groceries or getting a new pair of shoes. Everything had to be rationalized. She could still remember her mother’s voice. “You haven’t outgrown your last pair of runners, but you will soon. So I’ll get you this new pair, but they have to be a size bigger so that they’ll last. Or we could wait... But the sale is on now, and I don’t want to miss out on that...”

If there had been a father who could have sent money for school clothes, or even provided them a vacation once every couple of years...that would have made a big difference. So why would her mother have kept Avery away from her dad?

She heard movement behind her and turned to see a teenage girl standing in the doorway. There were still a few men exiting the building, and she could hear their voices suddenly drop off as the outside door banged shut. The teenager was slim and tanned with dark hair and gray eyes that were disconcertingly light compared to her dark complexion.

“Hi,” Avery said.

“I’m Olivia Harmon,” the girl said, crossing the kitchen and holding out her hand. Avery’s heart sped up at the young woman’s name. Her sister. They looked nothing alike, but genetics could be like that. She wiped her palms on her apron and shook Olivia’s proffered hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m the new cook.”

“I heard.” Olivia put her fingers into her back pockets and looked around. “I just came by to pick up a couple of pack lunches for Dad and me.”

“Going out together?” Avery asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah, we’re going riding.” Olivia headed to the large refrigerator and pulled it open. “Aren’t there any left?”

“I don’t think so. Hank made an even thirty-five this morning,” Avery said. “Do you want me to make you a couple of lunches?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Olivia said. “I can do it. I won’t keep you from whatever you were doing.”

The dishes—that was what Avery had been doing. She had the big sink filled with hot, soapy water, and she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

“That’s nice that your dad goes riding with you,” Avery said as she grabbed a scrub brush and got to work.

“Yeah, we’ve been riding together since I was little.” Olivia pulled sandwich fixings from the fridge. “He’s actually heading out to check on some leaking pipes that are being fixed, and I’m tagging along.”

“How old are you?” Avery asked.

“Sixteen. Why?”

“You look older than that,” Avery said quickly. “You could pass for nineteen easily.” What teenager didn’t want to look older than her years? That might cover up any weird-sounding curiosity on Avery’s part.

“How about twenty-one?” Olivia asked with a grin.

“Not quite.” Avery chuckled. She wasn’t about to encourage anything untoward.

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