Counting On The Cowboy. Shannon Taylor Vannatter

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      “There are a few side rooms along the foyer connecting the fellowship hall in the back. Plenty of room for the wedding party to prepare for the ceremony.”

      “Thank you so much for meeting with us, Devree.” Miranda never took her eyes off her groom-to-be. “I wanted Joel to see the chapel since he’s only seen pictures online.”

      “I don’t care where the ceremony takes place. The married part is all that matters to me.” The requisite sappy response from Joel.

      It would be nice if he kept feeling that way. But odds were—he wouldn’t.

      “Okay, I’ll see you both for a consultation in a week.” Please let the goat be all lassoed and out of sight. She led the way to the exit, praying as she went. Guilt stabbed. She shouldn’t ask God for anything after ignoring Him for so long. Closing her eyes, she hesitated at the double doors, then swung them open and scanned the area. No goat. Her breath rushed out.

      “Thank you.” The giddy bride hugged her and the couple held hands as they strolled to their car.

      “Excuse me.” The cowboy behind her. “You work here?”

      “Yes.” She turned to face him. His Stetson shadowed pale green eyes, dark hair and a cleft chin. Enough to make a girl weak in the knees. Thankfully, she wasn’t a girl anymore. She was a battle-scarred woman. “I’m the new wed—I mean—event planner.” At least she hoped to leave nuptials behind. “Thanks for getting rid of the goat.”

      “I love goats.” His gaze locked on hers, as if he had all day.

      “Do you work here?”

      “Not yet. Don’t s’pose you’d know where I might find the owners? Do the Donovans still own this place?”

      “My sister and her husband, Chase Donovan.” She checked her phone. Chase hadn’t responded to her frantic text.

      “I used to be best buds with Chase.”

      “Really?”

      “I lived here as a kid. You and your sister from around these parts?”

      “No. We’re from Aubrey. I live in Dallas, technically anyway. I’m just here for six weeks.” Why was she telling him all this? Those magnetic eyes held her prisoner, kept her running at the mouth.

      “What about Chase’s little sister, Eden? She still around?”

      “Um...she died three years ago.”

      “No.” His shoulders drooped. “Not sweet little Eden.”

      His genuine sadness got under her skin. “A few years back. Scuba diving accident. She and my sister were friends. That’s how Landry and Chase ended up together.” She shoved her hands in her back pockets. “Speaking of which, he’s leading a trail ride, but Landry’s inside. I’ll take you to her.”

      “I’d appreciate that.”

      She headed for the ranch house. His footfalls trailed behind her.

      Despite her sister’s difficult pregnancy, the yard was still a well-kept green oasis in the middle of yellowed drought-ridden Texas Hill Country. Thanks to a nightly dousing by sprinklers Chase had set up. She hugged herself, staying in the middle of the walkway, keeping as much distance as possible from any lurking poison ivy or rattlesnakes hiding in the suspicious-looking crape myrtle bushes lining each side.

      Would the cowboy disrupt Landry’s calm? She stopped, spun to face him.

      He skidded to a stop.

      “You’re not going to stress her out, are you?”

      The corner of his mouth hitched up. “Not planning on it. Unless applying for a job does that to her.”

      “She usually doesn’t hire the ranch hands. Chase does that.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “But he should be back soon.” She turned back toward the house. But what had he done with the goat? She halted again and swung around.

      More space between them this time. He grinned, deepening the cleft in his chin and awakening dimpled cheeks. A dangerous combination. “Learned my lesson. Don’t follow too close.”

      “Where is the goat?”

      “Put him in that pen.” He motioned to the rail fence near the barn out back.

      No goat in sight.

      “Didn’t think it would hold him long.” He adjusted his hat. “Goats are notorious for getting out. Especially if they’re alone. And I didn’t see any others. Unless they all got out.”

      “I don’t have a clue how many there are. I didn’t know they had any until I saw the one on the roof. Thanks again for taking care of that. If my bride had seen him, she may have freaked out and changed venues.”

      “Count on me for goat wrangling.” He searched the area. “If you find him again that is.”

      “I don’t have any other appointments, so we’ll let Chase worry about the goat.” She strode toward the house again. Made it all the way this time.

      As she stepped onto the porch, he passed her, opened the door and held it for her. “Thanks.” Why did her cheeks warm?

      His boot heels clanked behind her as she led him through the lobby into the great room.

      “Landry?”

      “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.” Landry lay on the couch, the mound of her seven-and-a-half-month pregnancy obvious. “I’m so bored. Tell me all about your meeting.”

      “We have company.”

      Landry craned her neck until the cowboy stepped into her line of vision.

      “Sorry to bother you, ma’am.”

      “I’d get up, but my doctor insists I lay here like a bloated heifer.”

      “This is...” Devree faltered. She didn’t even know the cowboy’s name. What if he’d made that whole story up from stuff he’d found online? What if he was some robber or escaped convict? Why hadn’t she thought of that? Constant guests at the dude ranch and the laid-back country lifestyle where everybody knew everybody had lessened her suspicious nature. Thankfully, Chase’s chef dad was in the kitchen, only a scream away.

      “Brock McBride. I’m here to apply for the handyman position.”

      “Oh, good. Please tell me you’re qualified.” Landry paused as she worked something on her phone. “I’m Landry Donovan, and this is my sister, Devree Malone.”

      “Nice meeting you, ma’am.” He tipped his hat.

      “My husband is leading a trail ride, but I just texted him and he should be back any minute.”

      “You might have a goat out.” His gaze roamed the room, from the barn-wood ceiling and walls to the massive stone fireplace.

      “Again?” Landry rolled her eyes.

      “The crazy thing climbed up on the chapel roof. It’s a wonder my jittery bride didn’t see him, run screaming and cancel everything.”

      “I found the feed bucket and it went right in the pen.” Brock took his hat off.

      Landry grinned at Brock, then Devree. “Your hero.”

      Her skin heated to boiling. “I said thank you.” She shot her sister a look. “But I’m not in the market for a hero.”

      “Good. Because the goat was out again by the time they left.” His mouth twitched. “Besides, my cape’s at the dry cleaner, and in my experience, damsels are more trouble than they’re worth.”

      “How’s my princess?” Chase entered the great room, his focus solely on Landry. Worry evident in his furrowed brow. “Are you following orders?”

      “I’ve