A Cowboy's Heart Read Free Page A

muscle, but the pain shot down his arm and across his back.
    â€œIt’ll be sore, and I’m afraid there might be more damage than just the dislocation. Best get it checked out with the sports medicine team. Until then,” he held out a sling, “pain meds, and you might want to get a ride home tonight.”
    A ride home? For the first time in a dozen years a “ride home” meant a ride to Grove, Oklahoma. And now it meant Willow Michaels living just down the road. He couldn’t quite picture her as the “girl next door.”

Chapter Two
    I n the midnight-black of the truck, lit only with the red-and-orange glow from the dash, Willow nudged at the cowboy sleeping in the seat next to her. They’d driven the two hours from Tulsa and were getting close to the ranch. Janie hadn’t helped. She had fallen asleep shortly after they’d taken off.
    â€œWake up.” She nudged Clint again, careful to hit his ribs, not the arm held against his chest with a sling. “Do you have a key to get into this place?”
    He stirred, brushed a hand through hair that wasn’t long enough to get messy and then yawned. He blinked a few times and looked at her like he couldn’t quite remember who she was.
    â€œWillow Michaels, remember? We offered you a ride home?”
    He nodded and then he shook his head. “I don’t know.”
    She didn’t hear the rest because he yawned and covered his mouth. Moments like this were not easy for her, not in the dark cab of a truck, not with someone she didn’t really know.
    He said something else that she didn’t catch. Willow sighed because it wasn’t fair, and she didn’t want to have this conversation with him.
    This kind of insecurity belonged to a ten-year-old girl sayinggoodbye to her parents and wondering why they no longer wanted her with them. And always assuming that it was because her hearing loss embarrassed them.
    He said something else that she didn’t catch.
    â€œClint, you have to talk more clearly. I can’t see you, and I don’t know what you’re saying.”
    There, it was said, and she’d survived. But it ached deep down, where her confidence should have been but wasn’t.
    He looked at her, his smile apologetic as he reached to turn on the overhead light. The dim glow undid her calm, because the look in his eyes touched something deep inside. Wow, she really wanted to believe in fairy tales.
    S ORRY .
    And when he signed the word, his hand a fist circling over his chest, she didn’t know how to react. But she recognized what she felt—unnerved and taken by surprise. When was the last time a cowboy had taken her by surprise?
    She cleared her throat and nodded. And then she answered, because he was waiting.
    â€œIt isn’t your fault. It’s dark, and you didn’t know.”
    How did he know sign language, and how did he know that it made hearing him so much easier? Even with hearing aids, being in the dark made understanding a muffled voice difficult—especially with the diesel engine of the truck.
    â€œI know it isn’t my fault, but I should have thought.” He shifted in the seat, turning to face her as he spoke. “I’m sorry, I’m not quite awake.”
    â€œAbout the house?”
    â€œI don’t need a key to the house.”
    â€œAunt Janie, you should wake up now.” Willow downshifted as they drove through the small almost-town that they lived near. Grove was another fifteen miles farther down the road, but it was easier to say they were from Grove than to give the name of atown with no population and no dot on the map. Dawson, population 10, on a good day. The town boasted a feed store and, well, nothing else.
    â€œJanie, wake up.” Willow leaned to look at her aunt.
    Janie snorted but then started to snore again. The vibration of Clint’s laughter shook the seat. Willow shot him a look, and then she smiled.