Page 39 of Promised to the Cowboy

She still made sure our little girl had every chance to have a father. She gave me a choice she never believed she had herself.

She sighs and closes her eyes, leaning her head on the headrest. “The money wasn’t money. It was a leash with a really long lead.”

I think about my own father.

One man tried to buy his daughter’s time.

One man couldn’t bear to ask for his son’s.

“Strings,” I murmur.

She nods. “Strings.”

I don’t say the promise out loud. I just make the vow in my head.

Whatever I give this woman, whatever I give our daughter, it’ll never come with conditions.

Love shouldn’t need a receipt.

“You know what I think?”

She glances over. “What?”

“I think our daughter already got the better deal.”

She gives me a soft smile, squeezing my hand. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

I swallow hard. “Can I ask you something?”

She looks over and grins. “You already are.”

I turn my eyes back to the road. “You had… other options.”

She nods. “I know.”

“You could’ve...” I can’t quite say the words.

She does. “Ended the pregnancy.”

“Yeah. You never thought about it?”

“I thought about everything. I thought about adoption. I thought about raising the baby alone.” She pauses, resting a hand over her stomach. “The second I knew she existed”—her voice catches—“she was already mine.

Her gaze drops to our joined hands. “And now she’s ours.”

Ours.

God, I hope she means that as much as I do.

“I never came here hoping you’d fix my life. I just hoped our baby would know its father. I didn’t expect to find the rest of you too.” Her eyes lift to mine, open and vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen before. “I didn’t expect to find you.”

My chest tightens. Is she saying what I think she’s saying? Christ, I hope so. Because this isn’t just about the baby for me either. It never was.

The truth is, I haven’t stopped thinking about this woman since the first time I saw her walk into that rodeo arena like she owned every inch of it.

I carried her with me for four months before she ever knocked on my front door again.

And somewhere between a porch confession in the dark, a heartbeat on a screen, and watching her laugh around my family’s kitchen table, I’ve stopped imagining a future that doesn’t have her in it.