Page 5 of Lost and Found Cowboy
He turned to head down the aisle. He was out of order, but glancing at the bridal party, he realized he would’ve been the odd man out, walking down the aisle by himself, anyway. Maybe he should have had Zeus accompany him instead of tying him to a post.
Yeah, that would be way less conspicuous than just walking by himself.
A tiny, adorable flower girl, with bouncy blond curls and a frilly dress, had just made her way down the aisle, droppingpink and white rose petals in clumps as she went. Murphy, Chevy’s English Cream golden retriever trotted protectively by her side, a silver vest on his back, claiming the title, “Best Dog”.
Lorna’s son, Max, was making his way down the aisle behind her, but must have realized he had a captive audience, becausehe stopped in the middle and took advantage of the spotlight as he proceeded to do several dance moves, including the running man and the floss. Two gold rings, hopefully not the real wedding ones, were attached by ribbons to a satin pillow, which Max was now swinging around his head like a helicopter blade.
Mack wasn’t sure if the five-year-old—no, now six—he’d had a birthday last month and Mack had bought him a Lego set for it that was still tucked into the back of his truck, would even recognize him.
Lorna had just taken a step towards her son, a tight smile of embarrassment on her face, when Max turned and saw Mack. The boy’s small face lit with recognition as he dropped the pillow—yeah, Mackreallyhoped those weren’t the real rings—and ran full out toward him, his arms outstretched. “Mack! You’re back!” he shouted as Mack bent to scoop him up into a hug.
Those dang emotions were burning his throat again as Max’s small arms wrapped around his neck.
Chapter Three
Lorna Gibbs—shehadtaken her maiden name, and hopefully some of her dignity, back after the divorce—stared open-mouthed at her son.
Leni and Lorna’s family had been absorbed into the Lassiter clan around the same time Mack had first shown up in town, searching for the half-brothers he’d just found out about. They’d all spent a lot of time together, for family dinners and football games, and she and Mack had shared some flirty moments.
She liked the handsome cowboy. He was kind and thoughtful, and respectful to his grandfather, and to her. She relished his attention and his sweet compliments, but she’d been smack-dab in the middle of a divorce and had a brand-new baby to boot when they’d first met. She’d just broken her ankle and was so tired, she felt like she could barely form a coherent sentence, let alone start up some kind of romance with a hot cowboy, no matter how tall and muscly his broad chest was.
She’d known that her sweet son, Max, had liked the cowboy, too. He liked all the Lassiter men. They treated him so differently than his own father had. Lyle either ignored the boy or chastised him for being too loud or too talkative or for not picking up his toys.
But Duke and Chevy and his brothers all loved Max, taking him along to do chores or for rides on the tractor. And Mack was the first to agree to play a game or build Lego stuff with him, getting down on the floor with the boy, and having real conversations where he actually listened to the stories Max loved to tell. Mack had bought him his first pair of cowboy boots, and Max had practically slept in them.
They had all missed Mack when he’d gotten called back to help at the ranch in Texas where he’d worked before, but he’d said he would only be gone for a few weeks. Then the foreman of the ranch had broken his leg, and then they’d needed him for winter calving, and then something else had happened, and then something else, and suddenly he’d been gone months instead of weeks.
They hadn’t gotten to the point of talking to each other on the phone, but they had been texting and sending each other funny reels. Then once he left, his texts had dwindled from frequent to sporadic to non-existent. Which, she tried to convince herself, was fine with her. She had enough on her plate trying to pay her bills and keep up with the laundry and dishes while running her coffee shop, Mountain Brew, and raising a rambunctious kindergartener and a nine-month-old baby girl who was getting ready to walk.
When Mack had first left, he was all Max talked about, but after several months, the boy had stopped mentioning his name. Lorna wasn’t sure if he’d just forgotten about the cowboy or if he’d assumed Mack had simply left him behind, just like his father had done.
But the way Max had just called his name and gone racing into Mack’s arms told her the boy hadn’t forgotten him. She swallowed, hard, at the burn of emotion clogging her throat from seeing the tall cowboy hug her boy to his chest and laugh as he ruffled his hair.
Mack kept the boy in his arms as he continued down the aisle, stopping to scoop up the dropped ring pillow, then greeting his brothers with hugs and handshakes before taking his place at the end of the line.
He caught her eye and grinned as he nodded to the front row of guests where Mabel Turner, a petite elderly lady who had been one of Duke’s wife’s best friends, was wearing black slacks and a much-too-big-for-her blue shirt, belted with a navy necktie and covered by a large silver vest.
She stifled a giggle. Apparently, they’d just solved the mystery of the culprit whose garment bag had been mixed up with Mack’s.
So, the dress reallyhadn’tbelonged to his date.
And she felt surprisingly happy about that fact.
Then the “Wedding March” began to play, and she let go of her thoughts about the hot cowboy as she turned to watch her beautiful sister, a broad smile on her face and her arm threaded through the elbow of Duke, as Leni walked down the aisle and toward the love of her life.
She’d never seen her older sister so happy.
Leni was getting married, and to the man of her dreams. Tears filled Lorna’s eyes as she listened to them recite their heartfelt vows, and she fulfilled her maid of honor duties, holding the bouquet while they exchanged rings—thankfully the real ones had been in Duke’s pocket instead of being flung along the aisle in her son’s impromptu dance party—but her gaze kept straying to the man on the other side of the aisle who her son was standing next to and staring up at with the rapt devotion of a golden retriever puppy.
She’d spent the last seven months trying to convince herself he wasn’tthatgood-looking, or that tall, or that kind. She’d been wrong.
He was even hotter than she’d remembered.
His muscled chest and jet-black hair had her heart pounding against her chest and her insides tumbling around like towels in a dryer.
When she’d stormed into Ford’s room earlier, her heart had nearly stopped at the sight of Mack, barefoot, in jeans and a white T-shirt clinging to his broad chest, his tousled hair, still wet from the shower and curling at his neck.
She’d set up a million scenarios in her head of when she would see him again, and was beyond thrilled that she’d had makeup on, her hair done and was dressed to the nines versus wearing day old mascara and her usual outfit of yoga pants and a questionably clean shirt that was likely stained with either coffee or some flavor of baby food.
