“Different in some ways,” Matthew said from behind me. “Probably not in others.”
If possible, they’d packed even more merchandise into the second floor, dividing the space into sections for hats and boots. This type of gear felt performative when worn in the city, and I was still adjusting to the idea that in Wyoming, this was their everyday business casual.
“What size and color are we looking for?” Matthew asked as we walked over to a display of women’s boots.
“I guess I was thinking black or brown. I had no idea there were so many choices.”
“Tons of choices. Different styles, colors and stitching. You’ll want Western boots, though.” He gestured to a pair of short brown leather boots. “These are work boots. You want some for fashion. Maybe something like…this.” He handed me a tall turquoise boot with beige stitching. “You can’t go wrong with a good pair of Justins.”
His choice of a bold color surprised me. “Blue? I’m not sure.”
“May I ask you a question?” He dropped his voice low and quiet, and it made my stomach dip like I’d missed a step.
“Um, I think so.”
“Do you only wear black and white clothing?”
I glanced down at my white cotton tee and black linen shorts. “No, sometimes I wear gray.” I looked up to see him holding back a smile. “What? I like a classic palette of neutrals. It makes it easier to dress in the morning.” He was full on grinning at me now. I propped one hand on my hip. “It’s called a capsule wardrobe, Matthew.”
“Okay, city girl,” he said. “I’m sure you know ten times more about fashion than I do, so you won’t get any arguments from me.” His eyes sparkled, which I already knew was a sign he was about to tease me. “How about off-white and beige? Do you wear those too?”
“Actually,” I said primly, trying to look serious, “those colors wash me out.”
He laughed and tugged at the brim of his cowboy hat. “I guess it’s black boots today, then.”
We looked around a bit more at the expansive boot collection on display before I tried on two pairs, one black and the other a light tan. They were both practical and surprisingly comfortable, but something told me to keep looking.
“Are you getting worn out?” I asked.
“Not at all,” he said. “If you don’t mind though, I’m going to check out the hats and then I’ll be right back over.”
Matthew left me to my obsessive search for the perfect pair of boots, and ten minutes later, I finally spotted the ones. Milk chocolate brown leather on the bottom and wine red leather on the uppers. Intricate flame stitching in off-white thread. They were playful but still classy, and the craftsmanship was absolute perfection.
Matthew returned, watching me as I inspected them. “They’re not a neutral.”
“That’s okay.” I smiled up at him. “I think my wardrobe needs a pop of color.” When I tried them on, they molded to my feet like they were made for me. I walked back and forth, admiring how they looked in the mirror. “Am I buying my first pair of cowgirl boots?”
“You should. They look good on you.”
I turned, catching him checking out not only the boots, but my legs, as well. When he looked up and our eyes connected, he knew he was busted. There was no better confirmation for how I looked in those boots than the appreciation I’d seen on his face.
I couldn’t suppress a confident grin. “Sold.”
* * *
Thanksto my morning shopping trip with Matthew, I had sturdy hiking shoes, a beautiful pair of cowgirl boots, and a secret crush on a rancher. At least I hoped it was a secret, and I hadn’t been too obvious with Matthew. For the rest of the day, whether I was floating in the pool or trying to work on my laptop in my cabin, all I could think about was him. That easy smile with absolutely no pretense in it. The way he looked at me so intently, interested in who I was and what I had to say. He was sweet and genuine and…
Shit. I had to stop this nonsense. For so many reasons, this was not the time to get involved with anyone, especially a man who lived in Wyoming on a remote ranch.
Like the previous night, I ate my dinner alone. The food was delicious, but I was disappointed Matthew wasn’t in the dining room. His daughter wasn’t there either and, in fact, neither were the other guests.
“Where is everyone this evening?” I asked my server, Kyra.
“Tonight was the campfire cookout,” she said. “Didn’t Matthew tell you about it?”
“He did,” I said. “I totally forgot.” Matthew had invited me to the cookout when we took our trip into town that morning, but I’d declined. I wasn’t ready to ride a horse into the mountains with a pack of other guests, then eat a meal and ride back in the dark. Nothing about that sounded easy or safe for my first horseback ride in thirty years.
The extra time I’d devoted to my hair and makeup before coming to dinner felt a little pathetic without Matthew there. I decided at that moment to stop being ridiculous over a man I would never see again after this week. As a reality check, I called my divorce lawyer when I returned to my cabin to check on how the proceedings were going. Unfortunately, she didn’t pick up. I knew she’d still be working because Tempest Corday-Brown never left the office before eight pm at the earliest, but I wasn’t expecting her to call me back at nearly eleven-thirty New York time.
