Page 2 of All in with the Maverick Montana

“Yeah?” she said.

Faith appeared at the end of the aisle.

“Nathan said the new April shipment of feed came in. He’s gonna get the guys to unload the pallets. Help me with inventory when they’re done?”

“Sure thing,” Amy said. Despite the earlier feed order mix-up, she’d been a quick study with Faith as her guide, and she was starting to know the business like the back of her hand. They made a good team, which wasn’t surprising, considering they’d spent a lot of their life traveling the world’s rodeo circuit together along with their other sisters, Tori, Carly and Elizabeth, before settling in Bronco not long ago. Because of that, they often fell into a natural rhythm, one that reminded Amy of being on horseback and barrel races and rope tricks.

To look at them, it would be hard to tell they were sisters. Faith had high cheekbones, beautiful dark brown eyes, clear brown skin, and was only about five foot two. Though what she lacked in height, she made up for with her spunky attitude. Meanwhile, Amy was almost five foot seven, white, with bright blue eyes and straight, shoulder-length brown hair she left loose unless she was riding. Frankly, Amy didn’t share looks with any of her sisters. She didn’t even share DNA, considering they were all adopted. But the way they could read each other and the way they all loved fiercely—those were the things that made them family. The Hawkins Sisters had always been known as a group of strong rodeo-riding women, and Amy liked to think they lived up to that.

Or, at least, she had. Amy had only been away from the rodeo for a short time, but some days she felt like a completely different person. Was that what Faith saw when she looked at her now? Someone looking to step out of the limelight? While living in Bronco had been nice, it wasn’t exactly a quiet existence. With more of her family settling in the city, The Hawkins Sisters had become the talk of the town. It had become almost impossible for Amy to go out in public without being recognized.

But Tenacity was different. Here she didn’t have to traipse around in sunglasses and baseball caps all the time, and most days she could forget that Truett McCoy—the cowboy turned actor whose posters graced the walls of young fans around the world—dumped her to run off and marry his costar back in February.

There were moments when that realization still hit her hard, though she did her best not to mope. Faith would only worry more than she already was.

Amy finished up her task and headed back to the cash desk to return the roll of unused stickers. As she did, she turned up the radio, the song ringing out over the store speakers. She hummed along, grabbing a small bag of feed to return to a shelf in aisle four. When the song finished, the radio hosts started chatting, and it took Amy a moment to understand why the hairs on her arms had stood up.

“Can we talk about everyone’s favorite cowboy for a second?” one of the hosts said.

Amy knew immediately that they were talking about Tru.

“Oh my gosh, yes!” the female host said. “Let’s.”

“Okay, last we heard, Tru McCoy was linked to several women prior to his whirlwind marriage. Isn’t that right, Cady?”

Amy glowered at the shelf. There was only one thing worse than falling for a cowboy, and that was falling for a cowboy turned movie star. Of that, she was certain. In recent years, Tru’s name above a marquee virtually guaranteed a box office smash, and his popularity had skyrocketed. Everyone was talking about him. After the breakup, she’d avoided the magazines and the trashy entertainment news channels, but apparently she’d forgotten about the radio.

“Wasn’t he also supposedly seeing some unknown rodeo star?” the male host said. “We all know Montana is bustling with them.”

Amy bristled. That’s all she was in the end? Just an unknown, unnamed rodeo star? Her chest constricted, and she felt like a fool. Damn Tru McCoy, and damn him again for making her feel this way. She blinked back the tears she could already feel gathering in the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t keep letting him affect her this way.

The host continued. “But apparently none of that matters because according to sources, his heart has always belonged to his new bride. Isn’t that sweet, Cady?”

“Almost as sweet as you, Doug. And we definitely like a man who knows what he wants. We’ll be right back after the break.”

What he wants? Amy thought. Ha! Anger pooled inside her. It was no wonder her emotions had been all over the place since arriving in Tenacity back in February. Just bringing up Tru’s name made her a weepy, blubbering mess, never mind being reminded that she’d been second fiddle all along. It was embarrassing and insulting. But what was even more mortifying was her reaction to the news after this many weeks. She’d been through breakups before. And she likely would again. She just needed to stop thinking about Tru. All it did was upset her and exhaust her, and she couldn’t spend all her time trying to sleep away these feelings.

“And we’re back,” the radio host announced. “Talking about everyone’s favorite heartthrob, Tru McCoy.”

Hearing that she was only one of his many women shouldn’t have surprised her—this was what happened when you fell for cowboy-hat-wearing movie stars. But the tears still threatened to spill, and Amy tugged a little too hard on the bag of feed she was putting away. It slipped from the shelf suddenly, sliding right through her outstretched hands.

It hit the floor, splitting at the corner, and the feed poured out all over her shoes in a dusty pile, sending pellets and grain dancing across the aisle. Amy swore under her breath. At least, she thought it was under her breath. It must have been louder than she thought, because Faith appeared a moment later and that made her tear up harder.

“Everything okay?”

“It’s all good,” Amy said. “Just a little accident. No big deal, I’ve got it.” She did her best to avoid Faith’s eye. Though they’d never discussed her fling with Tru, and Faith had never directly asked about him, Amy suspected that she knew. Sisters always knew these kinds of things. It was one of those special powers they were gifted with. That and the ability to annoy you in three seconds flat. Still, mortified at her reaction, Amy shook off the tears and hurried to the supply cupboard to grab a broom.

What did they say? Never cry over spilled milk? And here she was almost crying over spilled cattle feed. If anything, Amy should be ecstatic that she’d dodged that Tru-shaped bullet. He’d clearly never liked her despite his many declarations, and the last thing she needed to be was tied to a snake of a man. She was more grateful than ever that they’d used protection when they’d finally slept together back around Christmas. She’d even taken a pregnancy test to be sure because she’d felt sick right after the breakup, and with her birth control, she hardly ever got her period. With that worry assuaged, now Amy was mostly just angry for getting caught up in Tru’s charms in the first place. She wasn’t naïve. She’d lived and breathed the celebrity world for most of her life. She should have known better than to trust a cowboy with a handsome smile.

Amy swept the spilled feed into a pile, then dragged over the garbage bin, crouching to scoop grain onto the dustpan.

A set of footsteps drew near. Amy looked up, expecting Faith, but instead she saw a man—talk about a cowboy with a handsome smile. His hair was cut just above the shoulders. Dark brown, like his eyes. It was the kind of hair that looked especially good swept back under a cowboy hat. Much like the one he carried in his hand. Not that she was thinking of cowboys. Nope. Amy had strictly sworn off cowboys. But with his dusty blue jeans and snug T-shirt and olive complexion, she couldn’t help but stare. He tilted his head, his gaze lingering, and for a moment, Amy wondered if he’d recognized her as one of The Hawkins Sisters. He wandered a little closer, and she prepared for the question, wincing internally.

“You know,” he said. “If you get a couple of chickens in here, they’d take care of that for you no problem.”

Amy blinked up at him, then she laughed, caught off guard by his comment. It was a real, deep belly laugh. She couldn’t even say why she found it so funny, but as the sound faded between them, she almost couldn’t remember why she’d been such an emotional mess. “You’re probably right.” She got to her feet. “Unfortunately, we’re fresh out of chickens.”

“You sure? You checked the back?”