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“Yes, ma’am. You don’t have to beg me to shut the doors tonight,” Jill said.

* * *

“Mama, please tell me I didn’t wake you.” Jill shut her eyes and could picture her mother. Tall, thin, and blond. Big doe-colored eyes and a smile that was a dental record.

“Did that feud and scalding-hot cowboy suck all the memory out of your brain? Remember, I’m a night owl,” her mother said. “If I’d known he looked like that when you told me you were going to Burnt Boot, I’d have kidnapped you myself.”

“I think I’m in love,” Jill said.

“Either you are or you aren’t. Which is it?”

“I am, but I need you to talk me out of it,” Jill said. “Oh my God, I’m fanning myself with my hand, and I’m telling you this because you can’t see me, and you are my mother, but I don’t know who else to call.”

“You’ve slept with him?”

“He brought me daisies,” Jill answered.

“You didn’t answer my question. Have you slept with him?”

“And we bought an ice tray and a cast-iron pan together, and we have two kittens, Miss Piggy and Miss Chickadee.”

“Are you in love with him, Jillian?”

“Yes, just like you were with my daddy.”

“You both like ranchin’. He bought you freakin’ daisies, and you bought an ice tray and cast-iron pan together. What in the hell are you waiting for, girl? Propose to him,” her mother said.

“But, Mama, I’ve only known him six weeks.”

“I proposed to your father in three weeks. When it’s right, you know it. You still didn’t answer my question.”

Jill laughed. “I’m in the bathtub, and the water has gone cold. I’m going to end this call and get out. And, Mama, I’m not going to answer that question.”

“Where are you sleeping tonight?”

“That is need to know, and you don’t.”

“Hey, now, we’ve been sharing some pretty big secrets.”

“Good night, Mama,” Jill said and hit the “end” button.

Sitting in the rocking chair, towel drying her hair, and thinking about the conversation, she didn’t hear her bedroom door crack open. She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t even see Miss Piggy chasing a bit of ribbon across the floor.

“You take my breath away,” Sawyer said. “No wonder I fell in love with you.”

As if in slow motion, her head raised. The hinges squeaked when he pushed the door wide open. The thought that ran through her mind was that she’d have to put some oil on them or she’d get caught sneaking across to Sawyer’s room after Rhett arrived. Then she wondered if she’d heard what she wanted to hear, not what he’d actually said.

“Say that again,” she whispered.

“I said I’ve fallen in love with you, Jillian Cleary. My heart has known it for a while. It just took my mind a while to catch up,” he said.

“One more time, just so I’m sure there’s no water in my ears.”

He took the towel from her hands, picked her up, and sat down in the rocker with her in his lap. “I love you, Jill.”

“I love you, Sawyer,” she whispered.

“That makes me the happiest cowboy in all of Texas,” he drawled. “I’d planned all these beautiful scenarios to say those three words, but they just slipped out tonight. I guess we aren’t destined for roses and romance.”

“Roses? No, darlin’, we are not. Romance? It goes much deeper than just saying words, although they are beautiful and I want to hear them every single day. FYI, right here in our bunkhouse at the end of a workday is the best place ever to say it for the first time. Romance is wonderful, Sawyer, but it needs actions to back them up. Your bed is bigger than mine, and I’m not sleeping alone anymore, so…” She hesitated.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m right good at showing instead of telling.” He stopped any further talk with a searing-hot kiss.

* * *

Decorating the next day involved stringing up some crepe paper, putting a glittery heart garland around the mirror behind the bar, using red paper liners in the plastic burger baskets instead of the customary white ones, and hanging a big red foldout heart above the jukebox. It took all of thirty minutes to do that and take the chairs down from the tables.

“Now what? I was expecting an all-afternoon job,” Sawyer said. They could go back to the bunkhouse and spend the afternoon in bed or maybe drive around the ranch and talk about the changes they’d like to make.

He looked around the pitifully decorated bar. He’d been out to dance and drink on Valentine’s Day, and this place sure didn’t scream romance.

“If we had a pool table, I might suggest a nap on it until opening time,” she said.

“How about a trip into town? If we hung a paper heart over where the Gallaghers sit and one above the Brennans, it might put an end to the pig war,” Sawyer said.

“It’ll take more than a paper heart to create that miracle. But I do think we need more than this after that big ad in the paper,” she agreed. “Let’s make a run into Walmart—no wait, isn’t there a party store in that outlet mall?”

“I wouldn’t know. Guess we could check on it first, and if there isn’t, we could go on into Walmart.” Sawyer was already getting their coats from the backs of two bar stools. “Last time I was in a bar on Valentine’s, they had put little fancy things on the tables. Folks fought over who got to take them home.”

“I know what you are talking about. They have a weighted bottom with something that looks like red heart fireworks shooting out of the top. Lord help us if Betsy gets drunk and takes one to Kinsey’s head.” She slung her purse over her shoulder.

“Hey, Jill,” he said as he took her hand in his.

“Hey, what?”

“I love you,” he said.

“Hey, Sawyer, I love you back,” she told him. “Red plastic tablecloths?”

“You sure are romantic this afternoon,” he teased.

“What’s not romantic about red plastic tablecloths?” she shot right back.

“For starters, they’d be real easy for Betsy or Kinsey to accidentally-on-purpose grab if they were fake falling. Can you imagine Betsy if a whole table full of burger baskets landed in her lap?”

Jill laughed as he opened the door and helped her inside his truck. “It might end the pig war and begin the burger war.”

“Where they throw food rather than steal pigs.”

When he was inside the truck, she said, “Or where they poison food instead of stealing livestock, so scratch that idea. We just need some cutesy things that remind the folks that it’s a fall-in-love day, not a war day.”

“How about a couple of bags of those heart-shaped red hots and some of those conversation hearts to go on the bar instead of pretzels and peanuts?”

She pulled her wallet from her purse, ripped off a check, and fished around until she found a pen. “I’m going to make a list. Candy for bar. Keep thinking, and I’ll write it all down as we travel.”

By the time they reached the outlet mall, the back side of her check was filled with ideas. He parked, and hand in hand, they started toward the party store. It was two stores up from the jewelry store and just past the leather-goods place where they sold boots, saddles, and all kinds of hand-tooled jewelry and luggage.

“Want to dash inside the leather store for a few minutes?” he asked.

“No, darlin’, I want to get this list taken care of and then get an apple dumplin’ over at that Cracker Barrel place,” she answered. “But it doesn’t take two of us to buy party goods. You go to the leather store if you want to.”

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

He darted into the leather store for about thirty seconds and then went straight to the jewelry store. He wanted a necklace with a heart pendant to give her for Valentine’s Day. The one he’d seen online had a banner across it with I Love You written in tiny, sparkling diamonds. If he couldn’t find that, then a bracelet with interlocking hearts, but it had to be yellow gold.

“Help you, sir?” an older woman said from behind the counter. “I bet you are doing late Valentine shopping.”