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That was when I gave up trying to fight it. What was the use? Luke would never be the kind of man I was looking for, and I’d told him that straight up. Why not just enjoy him for what he was?—a decent guy I could kid around with like a brother. I scooted my chair around the table to watch the game with him. Luke grinned his appreciation and slid the nacho plate a little closer to me. Then all his attention was on the TV. And that was fine with me.
I did have fun. Once I truly let go of any hope that Luke was the kind of guy I could have a sweet, romantic dinner with, I started cheering and whooping at the game with him—and half the other cowboys in the bar. We banged glasses, we yelled at the home team by name, and we joined in a round when our team won. It had been a long time since I’d had that much fun on a date.
Luke mopped up the last of the nachos and brandished that famous Walker grin at me. “Wanna dance?”
I actually thought about it for a minute. “You know, I think I’ll pass tonight. Do you mind?”
His jaw shifted to the side, and he shook his head. “Naw. You ready, then?”
I stood up. “Just a minute. I need to visit the powder room.”
The whole drive home, I was trying to figure out how to end the evening. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I never could find it in me to be mean, but I couldn’t have him thinking I’d be his go-to girl whenever he wanted to watch a game and eat nachos. Not that I hadn’t had a great time, but…
We pulled into my driveway, and Luke put the truck in park. “Reckon we’re not the dancing kind of friends, huh?”
My chest sagged in relief when Luke said it first. “Not really.” I turned to smile at him in the darkened cab. “I’m sorry. Are you okay with just being regular old friends?”
“Aw, heck, we had us a good time. Friends is fine. It was better than sittin’ at home watching Evan read the paper.”
I snickered. “Well, thank you for asking me. I did have fun.”
He squinted at me from under his hat. Even in the dark, those Walker eyes were enough to take a girl’s breath away. “But you don’t want me to ask again, right?”
“You know, Luke, some girl is going to count herself very lucky someday to be yours. I’m just not the girl.”
He scratched his ear and crunched his face up like he was trying to decipher my words. “So… does that mean no necking by the porch light?”
I laughed. “Good night, Luke.”
“Good night.”
I slipped into the house and sagged against the door. We’d ended things the way we should have, but I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. A friend was great, but it wasn’t a friend I was looking for. I wanted to lose my head and heart over someone and stay there the rest of my life. I wanted the kind of romance people write books and make movies about.
Did that kind of man even exist in the real world? It wasn’t like I hadn’t had options, but none were even close to my silly old fantasies. There was Colby, whose mother still ironed his drawers. Porter, who thought the way to woo a girl was to put his handseverywhere. Tanner… Tanner didn’t count because I’d turned him down when he spat out a stream of tobacco immediately after asking me out. Rafe, Ryan, Robert, Sam, Steve, Stu… all good-looking losers who thought primarily with their little brains.
There had to be a few left who didn’t paw a girl for attention and could act like a grown-up. Maybe even some who thought about more than football and how good his truck sounded. Just not in this town.
And there was the rub because as much as I needed to be here at home, in the place I loved where I was free just to be myself, I needed something else more. Something to hold on to, a dream to chase, and maybe even someone to build a life with. Because right now, my life was stagnant, boring, and lonely. So lonely that the best time I’d had in months was shouting at a television in a crowded bar with a cowboy I could never fall in love with.
I sighed and pulled off my gloves to stuff them in my coat pockets. And that was when I found it. A sheet of paper, crisply folded into perfect quarters. That hadn’t been there earlier, had it? I unfolded and scanned it. It was a poem, but no poem I’d ever read. In just a few lines, it pulled me into someone else’s world.
The Cowboy's Call
Mist over the mountains, golden grains in the valley
The rocks and the trees, dotted with danger.
Born of the land, dust and sweat on his brow
He’s a cowboy, formed for his work.
Life in the saddle, taut sinew on his bones
The bawl of a calf, creaking leather in his ear.
His horse lunges right, the slip of the rope
The dance begins, music of his earth.
