Beau: Cowboy Protector. Marin Thomas

you enjoy your visit with your friend?” Irene asked when Sierra joined her behind the lunch counter.

      “What frien—” Sierra caught herself. “Um, yes. Thanks for closing up last night. I’m sorry it was such short notice.”

      Irene waved her off. “We all need a little downtime. Speaking of which, Karla agreed to work the rest of my shift this afternoon.”

      “Aren’t you feeling well?” Because Irene’s husband was a long-haul truck driver, she often worked more than an eight-hour day so she didn’t have to sit at home alone. Maybe the long hours were catching up with the fifty-year-old.

      “Ed called. His run to Boise got canceled. He’s coming home tonight.”

      “That’s great news. Be sure to fix a plate of food for each of you before clocking out.”

      “Thanks, Sierra. The less time I spend in the kitchen the more time Ed and I can spend in the bedroom.” Irene winked. “I’ll finish getting the potatoes ready and put the pans of sirloin into the oven before I leave.” Irene returned to the kitchen, leaving Sierra alone in the diner.

      The rumble of a truck engine caught her attention and she glanced out the front window. Beau’s red Dodge pulled into a parking spot across the street in front of Wright’s Western Wear and Tack. He got out of the truck and glanced over his shoulder. Sierra ducked behind the counter, hoping he hadn’t caught her spying. After counting to five, she stood. Beau strolled along the sidewalk, his cocky swagger tugging a quiet sigh from her. She loved the way he filled out his Wranglers.

      Go talk to him.

      She owed Beau an apology and a plausible explanation for why she’d spent the night in her car—as soon as she got up the courage.

      * * *

      “HEY, AUSTIN,” BEAU called out a greeting when he entered Wright’s. He’d driven into town to speak with Sierra but at the last minute had decided to check on his saddles.

      “Heard you took first place in the bull-riding competition yesterday.” Boot heels clunked against the wood floor as Austin wove through the racks of clothing.

      Beau shook hands with his cousin’s husband. “Word gets around quick in this town.” How long would it take for people to gossip about him and Sierra if he persuaded her to go on a date with him?

      “Colt phoned Dinah a while ago. Good thing you two caught Midnight before he escaped the boundaries of the ranch.” Austin shook his head. “My wife doesn’t need the aggravation of working a second missing-horse case on that stallion.”

      “Is Dinah’s pregnancy making her moody?”

      “No comment.” Austin grinned. “Hey, before I forget.” He reached into his shirt pocket and removed a business card. “This guy’s interested in having you make him a saddle.”

      “He didn’t like either of those?” Beau glanced at the saddles in the front window.

      “He wants a cutting saddle with a shallower seat and a higher horn.” Austin motioned to the business card in Beau’s hand. “Jim Phillips is the new foreman at the Casey Beef Ranch south of Billings.”

      “Did you give Phillips one of my cards?” Beau asked.

      “Sure did. He said he’d call in a few days.”

      Beau shoved Phillips’s contact information into the back pocket of his jeans. “How’s married life?” Heavy footfalls sounded overhead and both men looked up at the decorative tin ceiling.

      “Married life is good. Real good.”

      The bell on the door clanged and Ace Hart entered the store, wearing a scowl. Beau attempted to humor his cousin. “For a man who’s about to become a father, you don’t look too happy.” When the teasing remark failed to lighten Ace’s somber expression, Beau said, “Flynn’s feeling okay, isn’t she?”

      “Aside from swollen ankles she’s fine, thanks for asking.”

      “What’s the matter? You look pissed,” Austin said.

      Ace stared pointedly at Beau. “Colt said you suggested Midnight compete in South Dakota next month.”

      “A win there would increase his breeding value,” Beau said.

      “I know better than anyone when Midnight’s fit to compete again.” Ace rubbed his brow.

      Beau sympathized with the tough position his older cousin was in. Ace was under a lot of pressure to insure the family’s investment paid off. If the stallion got injured, had to be put down, or for some reason could not be bred, Ace could lose his livelihood. With a baby on the way, his cousin had to protect his interests.

      “Are you saying Midnight can’t compete next month?” Beau asked.

      “I haven’t made up my mind,” Ace said. “By the way, congrats on your win.”

      Austin slapped Beau on the back. “You sure are lighting up the circuit since Duke quit.”

      “Mind if I have a minute alone with Beau?” Ace asked.

      “No problem. I’ll be in the storeroom.”

      After Austin walked out of earshot, Ace spoke. “Colt mentioned you ran into Tuf in Wyoming.” The lines bracketing Ace’s mouth deepened. “Did he seem okay?”

      “He said he’s working through some stuff.”

      “Tuf needs to come home.”

      For as long as Beau remembered, Ace had been the strong, confident one in the family. At times his cousin could be too rigid, too controlling, but there was no hiding the concern in the man’s eyes for his little brother. Ace cared deeply about his family and wanted Tuf home where he could be looked after.

      The bell on the door clanged a second time. Sierra.

      “Let me know if you run into Tuf again.”

      “I will.”

      Ace left, tipping his hat to Sierra on the way out.

      Once the door shut behind Beau’s cousin, Sierra’s smile wilted.

      “I was planning to stop by the diner after I talked with Austin,” Beau said, closing the gap between them.

      “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She grappled for the door handle.

      “Wait.” Beau pried Sierra’s fingers from the knob but didn’t release her hand. “I finished my business with Austin. Walk with me?”

      “Sure.”

      He ushered Sierra outside then led her around the corner. Single-story homes lined the street and a small park sat in the middle of the block. “If you’re cold we can talk in the diner,” he said. The afternoon temperature was in the low forties, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

      “I’m fine. The sun feels good on my face.”

      They strolled in silence, Beau holding Sierra’s hand. That she didn’t pull away stroked his ego. When they reached the park, he guided her to the lone bench near the swing set. “You don’t have to worry,” he said. “I won’t pressure you for an explanation about last night.”

      “That’s generous, but…” She twirled a button on her coat then noticed her action and shoved her hand into a pocket. “How do you feel about your dad and my aunt dating?” she asked.

      Amused by the delay tactic, he chuckled. Heck, no one was more surprised than Beau that his father was goo-goo eyes over Jordan Peterson.

      “I’m serious, Beau. Are you okay with their relationship? Because I believe my aunt really cares for your father.”

      He’d be a lot happier about the matchup if Jordan didn’t distract his father from his ranch chores, but Beau didn’t