“Gee, thanks,” she muttered. A wave of nausea rose from her stomach to her throat. She swallowed it down as she took a seat on the top step and sucked in a deep breath through her nose.
“You know what I mean.” He searched her face a second longer before his eyes traveled over her sweatshirt and bare legs. “I like the jammies, though navy and gold aren’t really my colors.”
Harper pushed up her sleeves. “What are you doing here?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the mower he’d abandoned. “I thought that was obvious.”
“You shouldn’t be doing this. I know business has to be crazy right now. You don’t need to be wasting work hours coming out here just to do me a favor.”
Cowboy shook his head as he came up the steps to sit beside her. “I’m not doing anybody any favors. I’ve been coming out every couple weeks to help Grams with the yard.”
“You have?” Grams hadn’t mentioned anything to her about it. Neither had Sadie. Though now that she thought about it, the yard looked way too nice to have been either her grandmother’s or her sister’s doing. “How long?”
Cowboy’s gaze fell to his hands. “A little after you left.”
“Has she been paying you?”
“In a way.”
She sighed. “With money?”
“Nope.”
“Cowboy!”
“No, it’s okay. See, we had this system where I’d cut the grass and she…made me things.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“What kinds of things?”
“Oh, you know. Blankets, hats, scarves. Pretty much anything you can make with yarn, I’ve got it.”
The corner of Harper’s mouth twitched while she tried not to imagine him wrapped in one of Grams’s afghans with his blond hair curling out of the bottom of one of her knit caps. “She paid you with knitting?”
“Crocheting,” he corrected. “There’s a difference. Or so she kept telling me. I could never figure it out though.”
“It’s the needles.” Harper had innumerable memories of watching her grams sitting in front of the TV or rocking in her chair on the front porch, looping and pulling, as she magically turned one single strand of yarn into a piece of art. She’d tried to pick up the hobby herself after seeing how peaceful it always seemed to make Grams, but she’d never had the patience to see anything through to the end.
She sighed. “Tell me how much we owe, and I’ll pay you.”
“Absolutely not. Consider it paid in full. Grams more than covered her bill. Thanks to her, I’ll never have to buy another scarf or blanket again.” He grinned.
“Fine,” Harper relented. “But I insist on paying you for any lawn service from here on out.”
Cowboy opened his mouth, more than likely to object.
“No point in arguing. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m kinda loaded these days.”
He laughed, and to Harper the sound was like the first rays of morning cutting through the darkness, bringing the world out of black and white and into multicolor. She shook her head and winced. God, she really needed to get a grip.
“You know, I think I may have heard that from somewhere.”
“Is there anything Lo doesn’t tell you? You two gossip worse than old ladies.”
“Don’t hold it against her. She was pregnant and hungry, and I was holding her tuna and peanut butter sandwich hostage in order to get more information.”
“Tuna and peanut butter?” Harper’s stomach turned as another wave of nausea rose up inside her.
Cowboy nodded. “I’ve heard pregnant women have weird cravings, but Lo’s are downright scary. You wouldn’t believe the kind of stuff she sends me out to the store for when Cole’s working at the fire station. And then she gets all cranky and emotional if you try to tell her how disgusting it is.”
Harper grinned at the thought of him bending over backward to take care of a pregnant Logan. Not that it surprised her. Despite his carefree attitude, Cowboy would do almost anything to make sure the people he loved were happy.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He leaned forward, pulling something from his back pocket. Then he handed Harper a folded piece of paper. “I got you a contractor for the B&B.”
“Really? That was fast.”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t really that hard. I gave Cole’s brother Keith a call, and he promised to get you some really good deals. He said to call him later today to set up a walkthrough and discuss what all you’re planning for the house. And I also put out some feelers with some of the local business owners. I wrote you a list of the ones who sounded willing to set up some promotions or discounts for your guests.”
Harper stared down at the paper, on the verge of tears. “You did all of this in one night?”
“Told you I could help.”
“You have no idea.” She looked up at him with a smile she hoped conveyed just how much this meant to her. “Thank you, Cowboy. I really needed something to go right for a change.”
“Ah, would this have anything to do with why your skin is such a lovely shade of green this morning? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you downed an entire keg last night.”
Harper groaned and rubbed her eyes under her glasses. “Does half a bottle of vodka count?”
“Damn, Midge. Since when do you go for the hard stuff?”
“Since I became the sole legal guardian of a hormonal teenager.” She ran her hands through her hair, forcing her fingers through a mass of tangles and gnarls. “We’ve been butting heads ever since I came back. I can’t seem to do anything right. First, she found out I was going to sell Grams’s house to make sure she had money for college and gave me the silent treatment for three weeks. Then last night she was at a party with some guy—”
“What guy? She’s only sixteen. There shouldn’t be a guy,” he said quickly, brows drawn together. He reminded Harper of a concerned older brother, raised hackles and all.
“It doesn’t matter. She got home late, and I just lost it on her. Hence the drinking and feeling like I’m going to blow chunks on you any second.”
Harper pulled her bare, pale legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knee. “So there it is. I’m a horrible guardian, and my sister hates me.”
They sat silently for a minute before Harper felt him nudge her shoulder with his. “Hey.” He nudged her again until she looked at him. “It’ll get better. This is a big change for both of you. Just give it some time.”
She offered him a wan smile. “That’s exactly what Aiden said.”
“I’m not surprised. He’s a smart man.”
“You don’t even know him.”
Cowboy chuckled. “True, but I hear he has excellent taste in men,” he said with a wink.
Harper laughed then cringed as an explosion of pain stabbed at the back of her head. She set her forehead gently on her knees. “Why do I feel so awful?”
“It’s called a hangover. And judging by the way you’re taking it, I’m guessing it’s your first one.”
Harper nodded slightly, afraid to say anything as another wave of nausea hit her stomach.
“Come on. Time to get up,” Cowboy said beside her.
She didn’t move. “Just leave me here. I’ll be fine in a few…hours.”
He stood then carefully helped Harper up to her feet. “Go inside, take a hot shower, and get dressed.”
“Why?”
“Unless you plan on hitting the town with me in your pj’s…”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t plan on hitting the town at all, not feeling like this.” And especially not with him of all people. She couldn’t help but be a little suspicious, what with Sadie and Aiden both laughing in her face when she’d told them she and Cowboy were going to try being friends. What if they were right and this was just Cowboy’s way of trying to win her back?
“Trust me, this’ll help.” He nudged her toward the door. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.
Now go shower and get ready. I’ll finish up out here, and then we’ll go.”
“Don’t you have other things to do today? Like, I don’t know, work?”
He grinned. “That’s the best part about being your own boss, Midge. Delegating. The guys can handle the yards for the next couple hours. Besides, you need a hangover cure, and I’ve got some errands I need to run today that I don’t feel like doing alone. It’s a win-win.”
“I think you need to check your definition of win-win,” she said before warily making her way into the house and toward the shower. “Because this is definitely not what winning feels like.”
Chapter Twelve
“This is your great hangover cure? A 50 percent off Fluff-n-Fold?” Harper asked as they pulled up to the drive-thru window of Pearly White, the local dry-cleaning business.
“Have some faith, would you?”
He rolled his window down and was greeted by the smiling face of an older woman. Her short, curly hair was white with a blueish tint, and her skin was creased with years of laughter and love.
“Cowboy,” she practically beamed. “Always good to see your handsome face.”
“Mornin’, Pearl. I called earlier about an order.”
“Oh, yes, I remember. Got it right here for ya.” She turned away then came back to the window with a large brown bag in hand. Pearl handed it to Cowboy through the window, followed by one giant…to-go cup?
Harper scrunched her forehead as Cowboy handed over some cash. He thanked Pearl before pulling away. “Open it,” he said, nodding to the paper bag between them.
Harper wasn’t sure what to expect when she pulled the bag onto her lap. “Fine. But if this bag is filled with your underwear, we’re ending this outing now.”
She opened the bag, relaxing when she didn’t find a stack of recently laundered items. She emptied the contents onto her lap. “Since when do dry cleaners sell biscuits and orange juice?”
Cowboy handed over the large cup as he pulled back onto the road. “Don’t forget sweet tea.”
She grabbed the cup, took a small, hesitant sip, and let out a small sigh of pleasure. It may not have been as good as Byrdie’s, but it was definitely up there. “So really, what’s the deal here? Since when is Pearl selling food?”
“Couple years now. It all started when an equipment malfunction ruined half the town’s laundry orders. To try to make up for it, Pearl handed out free homemade biscuits that were so good people didn’t even care that their winter coats were ruined. So she decided to start selling her biscuits on the side. Now it’s one of the best kept secrets in Willow Creek.”
“That has to be some sort of health code violation,” she muttered. Harper put the straw back to her lips, taking long, large sips. She was still a little nauseous, but she was so thirsty she could feel her veins constricting.
“Hey, slow down. Small sips until you see how your stomach handles it.”
“You saying you’re worried about me?” she asked, studying his expression for any giveaway that this was more than just a friendly outing to him.
“More like I’m worried about my interior smelling like puke for the next couple months.” Harper stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed. “You look like you’re feeling better, at least.”
She shrugged. “Not much, but the shower did seem to help a little.”
“Try the biscuit.”
“I swear I’m not that hungry.” Plus, she really was worried about how well her stomach could handle food right now.
“I promise it will be worth it. The biscuits really are amazing. And it’ll get your metabolism going and help get the toxins out. And the vitamin C in the orange juice will help, too.”
“And the tea to rehydrate?” She cracked open the small bottle of juice and started sipping.
His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her from across the cab. “That…and you’re just a lot more pleasant to be around with sweet tea in your system.”
“Cute.” She unwrapped the bacon and egg biscuit. It looked divine, infinitely better than the biscuits she’d attempted to make a few weeks back. She was nervous about how her stomach would take it, but the smell alone was quickly overpowering her concern. She took a tentative bite.
“Oh my God,” she moaned through her mouthful. She didn’t think a biscuit had ever tasted so good before. “You weren’t kidding.”
“I never kid about food.”
Harper swallowed and instantly gobbled another bite, ignoring Cowboy’s smirk.
When her biscuit was all but annihilated, she noticed for the first time that they were heading for the edge of town. “Where are we going now?”
“Just running an errand. Shouldn’t take too long.”
Seconds later, Cowboy steered the truck into the parking lot of the town nursing home. Harper hadn’t been here in years, not since the fifth grade when she and a handful of other students were chosen to read letters out loud for some of the local veterans who lived here. She vaguely remembered the smiling, wrinkled faces and the sound of slippers shuffling across the floor. The only thing she did remember distinctly from that day was the smell, like stale corn chips and denture cream. She could smell it now just looking at the old brick building.
“What are we doing here?”
“Delivering flowers to some lucky ladies inside.”
Harper laughed, then stopped when Cowboy didn’t. “Wait, you’re serious?”
He grinned and nodded toward the back of the truck. “Come on.”
They climbed out, and she met him as he let the tailgate down. There were dozens of tiny potted flowers of all different colors sitting in trays laid out in the bed of the truck, along with a few bags of soil on the side.
“I just did a few flower installs yesterday and had some left over.”
Some? There had to be at least fifty of these little plants. “Wow.”
Cowboy grabbed one of the trays filled with purple and yellow flowers and held it out for her to take. “You carry this one. I’ll get the dirt.” She watched him heft two bags of soil over each shoulder, bits of dirt clinging to his shirt and the bare skin of his sculpted arms. He led the way toward the door, and Harper had to force her eyes away from the lines of firm muscle running up and down his arms.
They walked through the automatic door at the front and were greeted in a small lobby by a busty blonde behind a welcome desk. She looked up at their arrival, and her lips curled in a lascivious smirk.
“Cowboy,” she practically moaned his name. “To what do we owe the pleasure today?” She either hadn’t noticed Harper yet or she was the best actress Willow Creek had seen.
“Hey, Heather. I’ve got some pansies and chrysanthemums for the garden out back. All right if I put them in today?”
“Of course. The ladies will love that.”
Cowboy chuckled. “They do love their flowers, don’t they?”
Heather licked her lips. “I wasn’t talking about the flowers.” Her eyes ran up and down Cowboy’s body, ending with a not-so-subtle wink. She hit a button on the wall behind her desk, and he was able to maneuver the now unlocked door open.
Once on the other side, with the door firmly shut and locked behind them, Harper let out a low whistle. “Wow.”
“What?”
“Nothing, just wondering how many more seconds it would have been before she literally jumped you back there.”
“She was just being nice.”
Harper snorted, the sound echoing in the nearly empty hall she was following him down. “Nice, seriously? I think she may actually be even more shameless than you. I’m surprised any girl would feel the need to come on that strong. Especially with you.” Didn’t she know Cowboy would sleep with just about anyone with breasts?
They reached the end of the hall. Cowboy shoved open the back door that led out to a wide, fenced-in green space and a walkway leading to a giant white gazebo.
“Heather’s a sweet girl and harmless,” he said, leading the way over to a sa
d-looking flower bed. “She and I both know she’s just teasing. And besides, she’s married.”
“Not sure how that last bit helps your whole ‘sweet girl’ argument, but okay.”
Cowboy gave her a quick side-eye glance. “Someone sounds jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” she scoffed, then nearly cursed herself. This was all part of his plan, wasn’t it? Get her jealous by flirting with the hot blonde at the front desk. And she was playing right into it, too. She never should have agreed to this outing, no matter how much he’d insisted. Maybe this friendship thing really was too good to be true.
He dropped one bag of soil on the ground then the other. He pointed to the tray of flowers. “You going to put that down, or did you plan on going another shade of green first?”
She scowled at him, setting the tray down less gingerly than she intended. Cowboy grinned, completely unfazed. “Good. Now help me get the rest of the flats.”
An hour later, Harper was on her hands and knees, digging holes in the dirt wherever he told her to, dropping the flowers in, and burying the roots in fresh soil while vigilantly working to keep as much space between her and Cowboy as possible. Her hands were filthy, her fingernails caked with dirt. She wiped the thin layer of sweat from her brow.
“How exactly does getting dirty help cure a hangover?”
Cowboy finished packing the soil around a dark red chrysanthemum and sat up. “It’s all about fresh air and distraction. Keep your mind off how bad you feel, and you don’t feel as bad.”
“You know an awful lot about this stuff. If I didn’t know any better, I might think you were a closet alcoholic.”
“Joke’s on you. An alcoholic would have to get sober long enough to get a hangover first.”
Harper sat back on the warm grass and wiped her hands off on her jeans. “So how did you come up with this multifaceted system of yours?”
“Everyone knows there’s no magic cure. But after years of watching Cole and Logan muddle through hangover after hangover, I’ve had a lot of time to pick up on what works and what doesn’t.” Cowboy patted down some more soil with his trowel and dusted off his hands. “Well, that’s all of them.”
Daring to Fall Page 9