THE COWGIRL OUTSHOT EVERY MAN AT THE FALL CONTEST — THE COWBOY WATCHING FELL FOR HER ON THE SPOT
Chapter 3
The man waiting in the bank lobby Monday morning was named Harold Voss.
Emma knew him.
Everyone did.
He owned Voss Agricultural Supply, several feed stores, and a collection of ranch properties scattered around the county.
He was sixty-two.
Rich.
Patient.
And dangerous in the quiet way powerful men often were.
“Emma.”
She stopped.
“Mr. Voss.”
He smiled.
“I heard about your father.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry you have to manage everything alone.”
“I’m not alone.”
“No?”
She looked at him.
“I have workers.”
“Of course.”
He glanced toward the bank manager’s office.
“How much do you owe?”
Emma’s expression hardened.
“That’s private.”
“Everything becomes public when the bank is involved.”
She said nothing.
Voss lowered his voice.
“I can help.”
“I don’t need help.”
“You might.”
He handed her a business card.
“If you change your mind.”
Emma took it only because refusing would have caused a scene.
She entered the manager’s office.
The meeting lasted forty minutes.
The news was bad.
Very bad.
Her father’s loans had been refinanced multiple times.
Interest had accumulated.
The bank could no longer extend the current arrangement.
“We need a substantial payment by March,” the manager explained.
“How much?”
“Three hundred thousand.”
Emma swallowed.
“I don’t have it.”
“I know.”
She stared at the paperwork.
“What happens if I can’t?”
“We’ll have to begin foreclosure proceedings.”
When she left the bank, Voss was still waiting.
He stood.
“How did it go?”
Emma ignored him.
He followed her outside.
“Three hundred thousand?”
She stopped.
“How do you know?”
“I have friends.”
“You’ve been asking about my ranch.”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
He smiled.
“Because I have an offer.”
Emma turned.
“No.”
“You haven’t heard it.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You should.”
She walked away.
Voss called after her.
“You can’t save that ranch by yourself.”
She didn’t turn around.
But his words stayed with her.
That afternoon, she found another problem.
Half the north pasture fence had collapsed.
She spent two hours repairing it alone.
As the sun began to set, she heard a truck approaching.
Cole.
He stepped out carrying a toolbox.
Emma sighed.
“What are you doing here?”
“Your fence is down.”
“I know.”
“I saw it from the road.”
“I can fix it.”
“I know.”
She frowned.
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I can help.”
Emma stared at him.
“Are you always this stubborn?”
“Probably.”
She looked at the fence.
Then at him.
“Fine.”
Cole smiled.
They worked until dark.
He didn’t flirt.
He didn’t lecture.
He didn’t ask about her finances.
He simply repaired fence posts.
At one point, Emma handed him a hammer.
Their fingers touched.
Both paused.
Cole looked at her.
Emma looked away.
“You’re staring.”
“Sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re beautiful.”
Emma froze.
She didn’t know what to say.
Cole immediately returned to the fence.
“That was probably too direct.”
“Very.”
“I’m working on it.”
She smiled.
“Clearly.”
After they finished, Emma made coffee.
They sat on the porch.
“Why did you come?” she asked.
Cole looked toward the fields.
“I saw you at the contest.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He smiled.
“Maybe I wanted an excuse.”
“To fix my fence?”
“To see you.”
Emma looked down.
“You barely know me.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t make promises.”
“I’m not.”
He turned toward her.
“I’m just telling you what I feel.”
She was silent.
The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was something else.
Something warm.
Then a truck appeared at the end of the driveway.
Voss.
He stopped beside them.
His eyes moved from Cole to Emma.
“Interesting.”
Emma stood.
“What do you want?”
Voss looked at Cole.
“Nothing.”
Then he smiled.
“Not tonight.”
He drove away.
Cole watched the truck disappear.
“Who is he?”
Emma hesitated.
“Someone who wants my ranch.”
Cole’s expression changed.
“Why?”
“Because he thinks I’ll lose it.”
“Will you?”
Emma looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
Cole stood.
“Then let me help.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t need saving.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
He smiled.
“I said let me help.”
Emma looked at him for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
He walked toward his truck.
Emma watched him leave.
For the first time since her father’s death, she felt something she hadn’t expected.
Hope.
