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Fun? No one had ever looked to Cloe for fun. She wasn’t the type of person who threw caution to the wind and had a night of frivolous fun. She wasn’t frivolous. And she certainly wasn’t fun. She was logical. And her logical brain told her that the only reason Rome was asking her to be his date was because she had helped him through a panic attack and he felt like he owed her.
Rome had never liked owing people. When he forgot his lunch in first grade and she’d shared her peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich with him, the next day, she found a sack lunch in her backpack with a peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich, Cheetos, and a Snickers candy bar. When she had loaned him a pencil in third grade, the next day, he had brought her an entire pack of pencils. It was just the way Rome was. He believed in paying his debts in full.
But she wasn’t a debt.
“You don’t owe me anything, Rome,” she said. “I was happy to help.”
He squinted at her. “I didn’t ask you because I thought I owed you. I asked you because I thought it might make us both feel better.”
Cloe wished it was that simple. But spending the evening with a handsome cowboy wasn’t going to make her feel better. Not when all her plans for the future had come crumbling down around her.
She had been so certain she and Brandon were the perfect match. He was as logical and organized as she was. He kept his well-thought-out schedule on his phone calendar and was never late to anything. He didn’t drink or dance and enjoyed quiet nights at home. And he loved children and teaching as much as she did.
That was how they met. They both attended Texas A&M. They kept bumping into each other around campus and finally Brandon had asked her out. They had dated all through college and then had gotten jobs at the same elementary school—him as a fifth grade teacher and her as a speech pathologist.
A year later, Brandon had asked her to move in with him. She’d just assumed marriage was the next step. She wasn’t even concerned when three years passed without one mention of marriage. Like her, Brandon liked to take his time whenever he made a big decision. When he had told her they needed to have a serious talk about their relationship, she just knew he was finally going to pop the question.
Instead, he had popped her heart.
“So what do you say?”
Rome’s question pulled her from her thoughts and she answered it honestly. “Thank you for the offer, Rome, but you don’t want to be stuck with me all night when there is an entire barn filled with single women who would love to make you feel better.”
“Just so you know, I wouldn’t consider an evening spent with you as being stuck. In fact, it’s just the opposite. If I go in the barn without a date, I’ll be stuck asking every single female at the reception to dance. While I don’t mind shuffling through a slow waltz with Mrs. Stokes, I flat out refuse to dance with Pippin Wadley again. Last time I let that little four-year-old hellion climb up on my boots so I could teach her the two-step, she bit my leg because I wasn’t moving fast enough.”
Even though her heart was heavy, she couldn’t help laughing at the image of a little girl standing on Rome’s boots and sinking her teeth into his leg as he two-stepped her around the dance floor.
His gray eyes narrowed beneath the brim of his Stetson. “Wait a second. Was that a laugh?” He grinned. “See, we can make each other feel better.”
Thankfully, before Cloe had to decline Rome again, Sweetie and Decker finally showed up. From the looks of their disheveled hair and clothes, it was obvious what they’d been doing. When Sweetie moved next to her for group pictures, Cloe, discreetly, buttoned a button on the back of Sweetie’s wedding gown and plucked a few pieces of hay from her hair.
After the group pictures were finished, Cloe posed with her sisters. She knew all five of her sisters were thinking the same thing she was: these could be the last pictures they ever took together at the ranch. The last time they were photographed with the huge red barn looming behind them. Or crowded together on the front porch steps of their two-story farmhouse. Or standing beneath the big oak with the rope swing.
It took a real effort to smile.
Holiday Ranch had been in their family for over a century. It had never been a huge cattle ranch like the Remingtons’, but it had been big enough to support their family and give Cloe and her sisters a wonderful childhood of riding horses, swimming in the springs, sleeping in the hayloft, and enjoying every acre of land that had been passed down over generations.
Unfortunately, low cattle prices and her father’s greed for more land had led to a growing debt that only selling the ranch would fix. Cloe had hoped they could hang on to the acre of land with the house and barn, but she’d just learned from the Realtor that the chances of selling the land for the money they needed without the house and barn were slim to none.
Of course, selling wasn’t even the main problem. The main problem was her grandmother. Mimi’s name was on the title of the ranch and she had no intentions of selling her home. Instead she had come up with a crazy scheme to keep the ranch in the family by marrying one of her granddaughters off to a wealthy Remington. As soon as she, Mama, and Daddy joined them for a family photo, Mimi started in.
“Did you notice how cute Noelle and Casey Remington looked coming down the aisle together?” Mimi’s voice rose from beneath the wide brim of one of the many gardening hats she loved to wear.
“Cute?” Noelle kept smiling for the camera and spoke through her teeth. “Casey and I are about as cute as a baby lamb in a tiger’s mouth, Mimi. That man is the bane of my existence. So don’t even think I’m going to be part of your crazy plan to save the ranch by sacrificing one of us to a Remington.”
“Both of you lower your voices,” Mama scolded with a smile pinned on her face. “The Remingtons are standing right over there.”
Casey and Rome stood by the barn talking. Most people thought Casey was the most handsome Remington with his perfect features, golden hair, and charming smile. Rome’s features weren’t perfect. His nose was prominent and had a bump on the bridge from being hit with a stall door when he was a kid. His hair was jet black like his father’s and had a tendency to curl when it rained. His smile wasn’t charming, In fact, he didn’t smile nearly as often as his brother. And when he did, it was more hesitate and subdued.
Of course, Cloe now understood why.
She had heard gossip about his wife leaving him. The townsfolk thought he was well over it. Today proved otherwise. She could sympathize with him. It was difficult being the one who was left. It made you feel defective. Like a broken toy returned to the store. After six years, she couldn’t stop wondering why Brandon had decided she wasn’t worth keeping.
As soon as the photographer was finished, Liberty lined them up in the order she wanted them to enter the barn for the reception. Once again, Cloe was paired up with Rome. When they reached the table set up for the wedding party, he pulled out a chair for her and winked.
“It looks like we’re stuck together whether you want to be or not.”
Thankfully, Cloe’s little sister, Hallie, took a seat on the other side of him. Unlike Cloe, Hallie had always been a talker. All through dinner, she kept Rome in a lively conversation about ranching, football, and beer brewing while Cloe tried not to worry about her upcoming maid-of-honor toast.
