Maisey Yates - Mail Order Cowboy

“I’m going to have to ask you why you needed a fresh start,” he said, lifting his coffee mug to his lips. “I want to keep this as professional as possible. But I do need to know a little bit about you personally. And I realize asking you now, on the first day, is maybe a little bit late, but I’m new to all this. I’m not exactly thinking of everything here.”

“I feel the same way,” she said. “I mean, I don’t know anything about you, either. Except for what you told me. But I wanted to get away. I needed to. I’m not running from the law or anything. I just got divorced. Actually, I got divorced about eight months ago, and I tried to keep on living where we were. I loved our little town. But my husband—ex-husband, that is—has lived there all of his life, and there’s no way I can combat that local mentality. His whole family is there and they own half the businesses in town. And they are... They’re angry at me for leaving him.”

“So the asshole made it impossible for you to live there?”

“Basically. And I was not going to go back home to live with my parents. I lived with them until I could legally leave, and as far as I’m concerned, a phone call home once a month is enough.”

“Fair enough. I work right here on the property, and I’ll be back to check on you probably more often today than usual. Just a warning.”

A smile curved the edge of her lips. “Are you afraid to leave her?”

“It doesn’t feel real yet,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ve been afraid to take my eyes off her since the moment her mom handed her to me. Still. And I’m not going to lie, sometimes the responsibility feels so big I almost wish the whole thing was a dream. But then, the minute that thought enters my head...it’s followed by total terror. Because sometimes I feel like nothing in my life was anything until her. I’m not sure I can ever go back.”

That was the worst part. Wanting something of his old life, and knowing it wouldn’t feel the same. He could never see himself or the things he used to do the same way again. Not now. “I better head out.”

“I’ll be fine. I remember where everything is.”

“If you need anything...”

“I have your phone number. I have your stepsister’s phone number. I have both your brothers’ numbers.”

“And I’ll be back.”

“I know.”

For the first time in three months, Jackson Reid stepped outside with empty arms and headed out to work.

CHAPTER THREE

THERE WAS A larger housekeeping element to this job than Savannah had expected, but she didn’t mind it, either. In fact, over the next couple of days she found a strange kind of bliss in it. Jackson was gone most of the time, and she usually woke up to coffee he had made and some leftover bacon, which she helped herself to, and then set about to preparing Lily’s first bottle, and getting set up to change diapers.

She read to her. Made sure she had the recommended amount of tummy time, and sang to her off-key. But at Lily’s age, the bulk of what she did was sleep and wiggle. And that gave Savannah a decent amount of free time. So she cleaned the tiny cabin, she made herself lunch, and then she prepared a dinner for both herself and Jackson.

Jackson had come in late the last couple of nights, and they didn’t take dinner together, but Savannah didn’t mind eating by herself.

It was a revelation, to be in a new setting like this. She had lived on her own for the last eight months, and had been distant from her husband before that, but still, she could feel his specter looming over her the entire time. Actually living in this new place, with this fresh start, was awfully blissful. Tonight she was making pot roast, which was even more blissful. She had never made it before. She hadn’t done a lot of cooking even when she’d been married, not because she couldn’t, but because she’d worked full-time and had usually been too exhausted at the end of the day to put together anything more spectacular than a pot of spaghetti.

She and Darren had often eaten out, or gone to his parents’ house for dinner. He didn’t really enjoy her cooking. That was the biggest part of it. And so they had settled into a routine where they had what he liked to eat, when he wanted to eat it. And often, his mother facilitated that. Darren had certainly been the one in charge in their house, but if there had been anyone pulling rank above him it’d been his mother.

She frowned. It had all been so slow and insidious, and she hadn’t realized that nothing in her life was hers until the end, when Darren finally pulled the plug on that marriage by announcing he had found someone else.

That was the worst part.

She’d been unhappy for a long time, but she had been primly pressing on because there was nothing else to do. Because she’d made vows and she would honor those. And that someday, maybe they would find the kind of happiness they’d had when they were dating.

It wasn’t until they’d divorce that she realized she’d walk herself right into the same marriage her parents had had.

She hadn’t given it the necessary amount of thought until it was too late, but somewhere, deep down, she’d believed her parents had always been unhappy. That they’d never been giddy about each other, that they’d never felt reckless and young. And so, when she’d met Darren and fallen in love for the first time, experienced attraction and infatuation for the first time, she’d imagine she’d gone and sidestepped her great fear.

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