Page 34 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

“What?” I ask.

She glances around. “It’s… nice.”

“That sounded like it surprised you.”

“It did.”

I set the tray down on the dresser. “You expected what? Beer cans and bad decisions?”

“I don’t know. More drama?”

“What gives you the impression that I come with drama? I’m very calm and controlled, you know?”

She gives a soft snort.

Good. Again.

I cross to the bed and grab the thick knitted blanket folded at the foot, then hold it out. “Here.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not.”

“I meant temperature-wise.”

“Mm.” I step closer and drape it around her shoulders before she can argue. “I reject your testimony.”

She stills for the briefest second as the blanket settles around her, and the atmosphere between us changes so subtly I almost miss it.

Her fingers come up automatically to catch the edges of the blanket in place. Small hands, silver rings, a faint ink smudge near her thumb that probably came from some note she took this morning before her day went to hell.

I step back before I can do something dumb, maybe smooth the fabric at her shoulder.

“Sit,” I say instead, pointing to the bed.

“Is that an order?”

I roll my eyes. “Sure. If it gets you to sit.”

Then she does.

I go to the record player and flip through the stack beside it. “You want music?”

“Do I get veto power?”

“Within reason.”

“Then yes.” She nods enthusiastically. “Music sounds good.”

I pick an old country record with soft guitar and enough heartbreak to feel companionable without getting maudlin, drop the needle, and let the room fill slowly with warm, familiar sound.

When I turn back, Annie has tucked one leg under herself on the bed, the blanket wrapped around her like armor she didn’t ask for but isn’t giving back. Her iced coffee sits on the nightstand. She’s looking at the framed photos on my dresser.

Three of them.

One of me and my brothers years ago, muddy, sunburned, and squinting at the camera because the future hadn’t yet occurred to us.

One of me with Willy and Red at the rodeo grounds, all of us grinning idiotically.