Page 13 of Cowboy Superstar

Windsor swallowed a bird’s-egg-sized lump as she took his meaning, and a new reality dawned.

For the first time in her entire life, being beautiful and having a body that men the world over had literally fantasized about for decades didn’t matter in the least. No, it was something intangible that Bo wanted from her, and it would require terrifying vulnerability. Windsor had never let anyone in. Not her parents, who had simply expected perfection on every visible level and for her to surpass their high bar of achievements. Not her ex-husband, who had just wanted the fame, cachet, and the clout that came with being married to Windsor Reed of the Hollywood Reed Dynasty. Not her friends, who were all in the industry. Not … anyone.

To Windsor’s mind, it would have been suicide in her world to let someone have that kind of power over her.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she finally said into the mirror. Somehow, it was easier than meeting those jewel-toned eyes face-to-face. “And, yes, I realize how pathetic that sounds.” She let out a long breath.

His head shifted from side to side, ever so slightly. “Not pathetic. It was just never expected of you or valued in your world. It was the biggest reason I bailed on Hollywood. I got sick of it. Out here, life is simple. Be a good human. Help your neighbor. Don’t destroy nature.”

“If only life were that simple everywhere,” she said quickly.

“It can be,” he replied. “It isn’t really about the geography of where you are. It’s about who you are. Who you become. I couldn’t stand being expected to be a fake piece of shit all the time. It’s not how I’m built, and it sure as fuck ain’t who I am.”

“Thank God,” she whispered. “The planet really doesn’t need more of those people.” She was finally brave enough to face him, so she turned and leaned on her hip against the counter.

“No, it really doesn’t,” he said with a quirk of his lips. “It needs more decent folks, who are kind, honest, trustworthy, brave, and quick to forgive.”

“Wouldn’t that be a miracle?” she replied with a laugh. “I can’t say I know a lot of those.”

“I do. And some of them are pretty excited to meet you. All I ask is that you treat them with the same respect and courtesy they give you.”

“Of course. I don’t try to be a piece of shit either, Bo. I really hope you don’t think I am.”

His big hands slid under her elbows. “No. I don’t think you’re a piece of shit. I never have, and I sure wouldn’t have set all this up if I thought so.”

A sigh of relief left her body. “Well, that’s something then.” She looked him in the eye. “Why did you really set all this up?”

His half smile was more charming than basically anything she’d ever seen.

“You’re a smart woman, Win. Pretty sure you’ll figure that out.” His palms squeezed her elbows.

“I thought we were doing honesty here.”

His grin turned up to full devastation level. “Sweetheart, you aren’t ready for that much honesty yet. Let’s go eat.”

CHAPTER 8

Marta was one of the people who was dying to meet Windsor. A local grandmother whose kids were all grown up, she had needed someone else to take care of, and Bo welcomed her into his life with open arms. Her husband had passed away the year before, and she’d been struggling with grief and looking for a job to keep her busy. When Bo needed a cook and housekeeper, she’d come highly recommended by his realtor as a stand-up character who never had anything bad to say about anyone and never partook in local gossip.

Bo recognized a gem when he met one, and Marta was a diamond of a human.

She also had all of Windsor’s movies on DVD, and Bo had promised her she would be able to get them autographed. He had also received a list of Win’s dietary preferences through her agent and given them to Marta in advance. While Cookie would be feeding the rest of the cast and crew, along with the ranch staff, Marta would be taking care of him and Windsor.

“This girl eats like a bird, Bo,” she had said when he gave her a printed copy, as she didn’t do internet, email, or smartphones. “The good Lord knew what he was doing when he sent me a husband instead of on a trip to Hollywood because he knew how much I liked butter.”

Marta was short, stout, and full of love, and Bo couldn’t imagine life without her.

When they entered her domain—a massive kitchen she called heaven on earth—she was wringing her hands together in her apron.

“Marta, this is the one and only Windsor Reed. And, Win, I present to you the most fabulous cook and housekeeper west of the Mississippi and quite possibly in the entire world, Mrs. Marta Jensen of Thompson Falls, Montana.”

Marta’s grin stretched her Mrs. Claus-esque cheeks wide. “Oh, Ms. Reed, I am such a big fan. I have all your movies. My grandson even got me one of your movie posters, the ones they put out front of the theater for what’s showing. He had it framed for me for Christmas. It’s in my quilting room at home. You are just so stunning. I love all your films. You’re just so … glamorous and talented.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you. Bo has said such wonderful things about you. And your town is just … beautiful. Truly, it is one of the most gorgeous places I’ve ever been in my entire life. Thank you so much for being a fan. Without people like you, my career would not be what it is—I promise you that.”

Windsor’s warmth and genuine gratitude toward Marta filled Bo with hope. This was the woman he wanted in his home. Not the one with that artificial laugh and forced cool, collected demeanor.

“You like it here? Really?” Marta was awed—Bo could tell. She had also never been this impressed by him.