Page 5 of Fall or Nothing

Before Daisy could utter more words of encouragement, Ivy reappeared, practically vibrating with excitement as she tugged a man by the sleeve and pulled him toward us.

“Carter James, meet my sisters, Daisy and Sage.” She motioned between us.

I’d braced for another flannel-clad cowboy with calloused hands and the same tired small-town look. Instead, my gaze lifted and landed on Carter.

I licked my lips before I could stop myself. He towered over me, all broad shoulders and easy smile full of confidence and wrapped in clothes that looked too polished for the average ranch hand. When his gaze met mine, warmth unfurled unexpectedly inside of me.

“Well, hello, Carter,” Daisy said, since obviously I’d lost any ability to speak.

He smiled, the kind that reached his eyes and crinkled the corners. “Very nice to meet you both.”

His voice rolled over me, deep and smooth, with a refined edge that didn’t quite belong in Montana. My pulse kicked up like a startled horse.

“Uh, do you ride horses?” Daisy asked, elbowing me in the ribs like spurring a horse into action.

“Of course. I spent some time at camps—uh, camping,” he stammered. “Yes. Very familiar with them.”

I managed a nod as he leaned in closer.

“Do I detect the scent of lavender and thyme?” he asked, the breath of his words brushing warm against my forehead.

My cheeks heated and were probably bright red from his attention. Up close like this, the clean line of his jaw held no trace of the usual five-o’clock shadow most men around here wore and grew into full-blown beards as if there were a secret competition to see who could grow the fullest.

“Maybe,” I croaked, finally finding my voice. “I make lavender oil for the bath for my sisters and me, straight from what I grow in our garden.”

“Sage’s work with plants is only one of her many talents,” Daisy interjected.

“Ah. Botany… plants lately?” he asked me, wiggling his brows like he knew exactly how ridiculous that sounded.

Giggles bubbled out of me, absolutely disturbing every butterfly in my stomach. “Of course. Don’t kale my vibe.”

His eyes lit up. “That’s a solid pun. My mom would’ve loved it. She had this greenhouse when I was a kid. I swear she talked to every leaf as if they were old friends. I picked up more than I meant to just trying to keep up with her.”

Most guys around here discussed tractor parts and truck engines, or cattle prices and horse hooves. Not… this. “What plants did she grow?” I asked, definitely intrigued now. I’d have to eat my words and thank Ivy for this introduction after all.

“Everything she could get her hands on. Herbs, even finicky orchids that drove her crazy every winter.”

I caught the subtle scent of his cologne, vibrant andunlike anything I’d ever noticed before. Something expensive maybe? Definitely not the cheap stuff Knox doused himself in anytime he knew he’d be around Daisy.

“She taught me how to read the soil—pH levels, drainage, that sort of thing. I used to help her mix compost like a secret sauce. Still remember the smell of it after the rain.”

My stomach did another flip. He wasn’t faking the spark in his eyes. This wasn’t small-town talk, but real sharing about his life with me.

“I-I do the same thing in our garden,” I admitted, stepping a little closer without thinking. “I make all our bath oils and salves—things to soothe us after working, even chamomile tea leaves. But I only have a few small raised beds, and they’re constantly fighting off aphids.”

“My mom swore by yarrow to help keep the aphids away.” His eyes dropped to my mouth for half a second before lifting again.

“You actually know that?” I blinked, genuinely surprised. Most men around here talked engines and cattle prices. This one spoke my language—soil and growing things. The competence in his tone left my skin tingling in a way I hadn’t felt in… ever.

Careful, Sage. One charming stranger does not mean you should abandon your sworn-off-cowboys rule.

Or maybe it does?

“Like I said—Mom was intense. I became a good listener.” His voice dropped a touch, teasing now. “Though I have to admit, standing here speaking about yarrow and lavender with a beautiful woman like you is doing something to my concentration.”

Heat bloomed harder across my cheeks. I nudged his arm, letting my fingers linger too long against the firm muscle there. “Keep flirting about herbs and I might drag you out to my garden to see if you’re all talk.”

“I’d go willingly.” A chuckle rumbled in his chest. He leaned in slightly, the clean scent of him cutting through the hay and cider. “As long as you promise not to judge me when I admit I still can’t keep basil alive to save my life.”