A Cowboy's Heart. Liz Ireland

      Of course, he’d been moody, too, but he knew the reason for his own odd behavior. He was perplexed and torn up over all that had happened with Mary Ann. But could what Paulie said be true? Was she really in love? And with whom?

      He’d been pondering those questions all afternoon. He had to hand it to her; her little revelation had completely distracted his mind from brooding about Mary Ann.

      Paulie’s being in love seemed so unlikely! Yet why not? She had to be over twenty now. But who? Who could she have fallen for?

      For a while he thought perhaps Paulie might have developed a yen for Dwight Jones. That would have made sense. Though he’d been a widower for half a decade, Dwight was still fairly young, and his mercantile probably made a decent profit He and Paulie were practically the only people in Possum Trot proper, too. Dwight was the shy, anxious type, though Lord knows, in that empty town and with his booming voice, the man could sit and sing love songs all day to Paulie across the street in the saloon without even having to leave his store.

      But the more he thought about it, the less likely a love relationship developing between Paulie and Dwight seemed. Dwight was completely devoted to his wife’s memory. The woman had run his store and his life; Dwight still only stocked what his dear Pearl had approved during her tragically short lifetime. And he never stepped foot in Paulie’s place, because Pearl had been a devout temperance lady. That was the clincher. Given Dwight’s devotion to Pearl’s memory, he would never take up with a woman who not only sold liquor, but was not above taking a gulp or two of the stuff herself on occasion.

      So that took care of Dwight.

      For a brief moment, Will had even considered the possibility that Oat was the object of Paulie’s affection. She saw him often—or had when he’d been her whiskey man. From that angle, he could see a certain logic to her becoming dependent on Oat. And perhaps that’s why she had developed a closeness to Mary Ann, because she wanted to see more of Oat...

      But just one look at the old fellow, slumped against a tree, with his mouth hanging open and snoring loudly, made Will dismiss this notion. One woman falling for Oat’s questionable charms was amazing in itself; two would be entirely incomprehensible.

      Trouble was, there were so few people Paulie saw on a regular basis, every possibility he winnowed out left the field exponentially smaller. He’d never heard her mention any of the other men who lived around the area. Furthermore, when he’d arrived at her saloon that morning, it seemed she had been expecting someone.

      For a brief, crazy instant, he wondered if it could even be himself. But what were the chances that she’d known he would be coming home in time to gussy herself up for him? After all, she said she had been practicing doing her hair. And she hadn’t exactly welcomed him with open arms; not after the first moment, at least. She’d seemed almost angry with him at times. Not at all flirtatious, like all the other women who had even the slightest interest in him had behaved. Besides, he and Paulie were just old friends. Very good, old friends. That was how he was most comfortable thinking of her.

      So who was it?

      He glanced again at her, cracking wise with Trip by the fire, and the obvious hit him with the force of an avalanche. Trip Peabody!

      Of course. It made perfect sense! Trip had been one of her father’s cronies, and since her father’s illness had lived in the room behind the saloon. Paulie was financially independent, but she had probably turned to Trip for advice innumerable times. Trip wasn’t even too bad-looking...

      But he was about twenty years older, and practically everybody south of the Red River knew Trip was in love with Tessie Hale.

      Wasn’t he?

      Will frowned, thinking about that very morning, finding both Paulie and Trip dressed up in stiff, unfamiliar clothes. A stiff dark suit...a wedding dress. Trip had been drunk. That was odd in itself. Then there was the eternal question of why Trip hadn’t ever actually asked Tessie to marry him.

      Maybe Trip’s affections were more divided than he let on.

      Will felt a twinge of sadness for them all if this was the case. But especially for Paulie. She deserved better than to be stuck in some unhappy love triangle, running around in her mother’s old dresses trying desperately to be something she wasn’t. He wondered whether Trip might even have taken advantage of her youth and innocence...

      A flash of anger so sharp welled in him that he sucked in his breath. He pushed himself to standing and walked away from the group.

      Paulie was in love with Trip. For some unfathomable reason, he didn’t want it to be true, but the idea made too much sense to ignore. The two of them enjoyed talking, laughing, and playing games—like they’d been doing this afternoon. They were always together, and they shared some of the same rough ways in dress and manner. Will had to concede that there was no better man on earth than Trip Peabody, and yet...

      Paulie deserved better.

      Damn. Maybe he was just unhappy with all the men women picked to pin their affections on these days. He had no call to care one way or the other who Paulie chose to fall in love with. He’d never even given the possibility a thought before now that she might even be of an age to fall in love. She’d always seemed like a tomboy to him. A figure of fun, good for a laugh or someone to talk to.

      But the fact was, he did care who she fell in love with. Couldn’t imagine himself not caring.

      “What are you doing out here?”

      At the sound of a voice, Will nearly jumped out of his skin. He pivoted, tense, only to come face-to-face with Paulie herself, who stood blinking up at him.

      “Did you hear something, Will?”

      He swallowed, noticing for the first time how fetching her green eyes really were. He could well understand how Trip might fall for. Paulie. “No, why?”

      She lifted her narrow shoulders in a shrug. “I saw you over here, pacing, then I came over, only to find you nervous as a cat. Is something wrong?”

      Nothing except that he felt a fierce new protectiveness for the young woman standing in front of him. “Actually, I was thinking about you.”

      Her eyes grew as round as saucers. “Me?”

      He nodded, trying to look at her closely in the darkness. Would she try to hide the truth about Trip from him? Or, more important, would she let him know if Trip was pressing his attentions on her unwanted? A young woman in her situation might feel indebted to the older man, might even allow herself to be coerced into something she wasn’t ready for. He hated even suspecting such a thing of Trip, but he felt he owed it to Paulie to find out the truth.

      “At least you weren’t wasting your time,” she joked approvingly. “What, exactly, were you thinking about me?”

      “Well...” He wasn’t sure how to start. “I guess I owe you an apology for what I said this afternoon, for assuming that you’ve never been in love.”

      She looked down at her feet and dug her toe into the dirt. “Oh, that.”

      “I guess I forget sometimes that you’re all grown up.”

      Her head snapped up, and though it was dark he could have sworn that two bright red stains appeared in her cheeks. “Oh, shoot!” she cried, shaking her head. “About what I said this afternoon, Will—about being in love. I didn’t mean it, really.” She stopped, flustered. “Well, no, I did mean it, but, I mean...”

      He kept his gaze locked with hers as her words sputtered out like a dying fire. His heart went out to her, trying so hard to cover up now that the cat was out of the bag. “I know you have a secret, Sprout.”

      Her cheeks grew redder. “You do?”

      He nodded. “You don’t have to keep it from me anymore. In fact, you can tell me all about it, if it would help.”

      She hesitated, looking extremely doubtful. “Will, I’m not sure you’re ready