Chapter 2

Chapter Two

K yler Hale needed a side hustle.

He had land. He had the money to build a house. What he didn’t have was the money to pay the rent in Aspen while he waited for the house to be built.

He couldn’t simply live in a horse trailer on the property these days. That might have worked when he was on his own, but he had Paige now, and while she’d lived with him in said trailer and in hotels on the road for her first years, she was fixing to start school.

“Daddy! I want to wear my boots tomorrow.”

“Hmm?” He glanced up from the site he was scrolling through. It was called Cowboy Wanted , which seemed like it had to be a joke, but it was legit, according to the Better Business thing and the Chamber of Commerce.

“My boots. I need you to help me polish them.”

“Okay, baby girl. I’ll buff them up for you.” He clicked the call me form thingy. “You got your outfit all picked out?”

They’d met Paige’s teacher, even though they’d registered late enough that they missed the big welcome meetup. Now she just had to show up on time for her first day.

Not easy for a kid who’d done preschool with a bunch of barrel racer moms and roughstock riders’ wives as teachers.

“Uh-huh. My pink Panhandle shirt with the fringe and my silver belt buckle.”

“Smart choices.” He wondered how long it would take for someone to tell her it wasn’t Halloween. But his girl was a cowgirl, and she wasn’t going to change that for any fancy new school.

“Do you think they’ll like me?”

“Of course they’ll like you. You’re amazing.” Why wouldn’t they like her? She was down-to-earth, friendly, cute as a button, one hell of a rider, and a not half bad roper for being five.

“Right. And pretty soon we’re going to have horses and cows and goats and chickens and ducks and llamas and buffalo and zebras and ostriches.” She spun in a circle.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Breathe, girlfriend. Let’s start with horses. Maybe a couple cattle.”

“And chickens, Daddy, you promised chickens.”

Note to self—do not promise anything involving buffalo, zebra, or those fucking mean dinosaur birds. “All right, we can have some chickens, but you have to take care of them.”

“Okay. I want to name them.” Completely unafraid, completely unconcerned—this was a child who had grown up around animals and rodeo cowboys—who were basically animals.

She was going to eat the other kindergarteners alive.

“Should I wear my hair down, or should I have it in braids?”

“I think you should have it however you feel like on the day, my love.”

Her thick blonde hair was going to be the envy of all the girls when she got to be a teenager, but right now? Just trying to tame it was about all he could do. Thank goodness he’d learned to braid, and Henley was one hell of a teacher.

Hell, Henley was one hell of a mom. The problem was she was a better barrel racer, and she couldn’t settle down with a little girl in tow.

Kyler got it. It wasn’t like they were some big love match. They were two people who had hooked up because they didn’t have anything better to do, and folks were starting to wonder.

Of course, then they had somehow caught pregnant.

That had been the best thing that ever happened to him. His Paige was the light of his life. She was the light of Henley’s life, too.

It was just that it was hard to see that light past all the glitter and sequins.

And he had to be honest. Her rodeo career was going to last for decades longer than his possibly could. Saddle bronc riders had fairly short expiration dates.

So Henley took Paige whenever she could. She had a tiny condo in Dallas, she was always welcome to stay with them when she was in the area, and she called Paige every single day to see how she was doing.

“Yeah. I’ll decide the night before, because if you’re going to do braids I have to get up fifteen minutes earlier because it takes you forever…” Her tease was so familiar.

“I will beat you, girl,” he mock-growled, making her giggle.

“I’m so scared, Daddy.” She rolled her eyes and grinned at him, then came over for a hard hug. “They are going to love me at school.”

Good Lord and butter, she seemed just like her momma when she said stuff like that, and he was scared for those kids.

Because they better like her or she was gonna eat them like he thought. His girl was a cowgirl through and through.

His phone chimed, and he checked it even though it wasn’t Henley’s text tone, which was the stabbing sound effect from Psycho …

It was an e-mail from Cowboy Wanted.

Thank you for your interest in Cowboy Wanted. I’ve sent you a QR code to the forms I’d like you to fill out for the necessary work information and background check. There’s also a place for you to upload a few pictures if that works for you. Once I have the relevant information in hand, I’ll be happy to contact you for an interview.

Thanks!

Thomas Foster, Owner, Cowboy Wanted

“Is everything okay, Daddy?”

“Yep. I’m hunting around to get a little bit of extra work while you’re in school to help build the house.” He’d learned to never lie to her but to always put things in the simplest terms.

“Ew. Can I go watch The British Baking Show Junior ?”

“Sure, kiddo. I’ll be there in a few.” He did love to watch kids bake. It made him smile.

“Okay.” She skipped off.

He shrugged.

What the hell. He might as well fill out the forms.

What could it possibly hurt?