A Cowgirl's Secret(53)





“YOU’RE AWFULLY SMILEY TODAY.” Georgina was making good on her promise to tame the gardens in front of Daisy and Kolt’s new home. They’d already cleared a small forest of brush and weeds and had just un earthed a stone-walled flowerbed complete with a few barely surviving rosebushes.

“I’m happy,” Daisy admitted. “For the first time in a long while, I feel on top of the world.”

Sitting on her gardening stool, Georgina said, “You can’t imagine how good that makes me feel—especially when I’ve worried about you for so long.”

Eyes stinging, Daisy asked, “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Already done.”

The weather was beyond idyllic—the temperature in the low eighties with high, puffy clouds and not a breath of wind. The summer had been long and mercilessly hot. It felt as if the whole world now sighed in relief. Daisy included.

After weeding awhile in companionable silence, Georgina said, “Josie and I have noticed you and Luke spending a lot of time together. Anything juicy to report?”

Where to start? “I invited him to the Grange Halloween dance and he accepted.”

“That’s a step in the right direction. Is this an outing with Kolt, or for grown-ups only?”

“If I ask you to babysit, does that give you a clue?”

Georgina laughed. “You know I’m always pleased as punch to watch Kolt. What costumes are you two wearing?”

Daisy outlined their plans, asking her mom to save a few cans for her to paint and then transform into tool-belt gadgets.

“Is Luke going to be a white-sheet ghost or a more original variety?”

“We’re thinking of going with makeup and dirt-smudged clothes.”

Laughing, Georgina said, “Sounds like you’ll make a lovely—albeit, smelly—couple.”

Growing misty, Daisy admitted, “I don’t know if that’s what we officially are, but I’d like to be.”

“Give it time.” Tugging extra hard on a clump of crabgrass, Georgina grunted. “You young people are too impatient. Let the boy woo you.”

“Mom, I’ve waited ten years to return to Luke, which is why I finally decided to woo him. I’m tired of waiting.”

“Then why didn’t you come home sooner?”

“Wish I had an answer.” There it was again—at the crux of Daisy’s every issue was the worst act she’d ever committed. For so many years she’d harbored guilt over what had happened with Henry. She’d needlessly, stupidly blamed herself when, as a child, she’d been cruelly victimized. How much longer would fate keep punishing her? More than anything, she longed for a fresh start, but the questions kept coming, dragging her to an emotional void where she no longer wanted to be.



“DAMN, YOU LOOK HOT,” LUKE SAID, standing at the Buckhorn Ranch front door to be greeted by the sexiest damn ghost hunter he’d ever seen. Daisy had only been able to find men’s coveralls, so she’d borrowed her mother’s sewing machine to produce a custom fit. Either she was crazy talented to have cut them to hug her every curve, or she’d gotten scissor-happy. Regardless, the view made him the winner.

“Looking good is my secret ghost-busting technique. I lure you in before sucking you into my ghost trap.” She tapped one of the multitude of silver canisters dangling from her tool belt.

“If it’s that much fun being caught, why would I want to do any more roaming?” Though he’d meant the statement to be a joke, Luke realized the more he was with Daisy, the more she felt like an addiction. But in a good way.

“Excellent answer,” she said with a heady smile. “Ready to go?”

“Let me say a quick hi to Kolt.”

“He’s in Dallas’s theater room. That thing is obscene.” Daisy led the way. Her costume looked equally great from behind.

“Obscenely fabulous,” Luke noted.

She shot him an over-the-shoulder dirty look.

“Boo!” Luke sneaked up behind his son, making his best scary face.

Kolt jumped a good foot out of his plush movie chair.

“Luke, you scared me half to death! Your costume’s awesome!”

Kolt’s friend, Jonah, popped out of the chair beside him. “Whoa! You’re the coolest dad ever!”

While Dallas paused The Haunted Mansion and flipped on the lights, Bonnie and Betsy and Josie also admired Luke’s costume.

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