Lonesome Cowboy (Honky Tonk Hearts) by Stacy Dawn Page A

similar rooms and items down the other hall. Returning to the landing, she pushed aside the dusty drapes and stared out over a large backyard bordered by overgrown gardens. The two, small individual cabins Marshall had mentioned sat to the left while sun-sparkling water of the creek trickled behind a fair-sized gazebo. All implanting images of what could be. And she could see it all, every flower, every newly painted fencepost, every piece of wallpaper, all fresh, new and inviting.
    But reality slowly niggled in. If Hank’s house didn’t sell for the minimum asking price, putting her money into a business right now could be a huge financial risk if it didn’t work out. But then again, if it did work…
    I’d definitely have to do my homework. Perhaps she could talk with the realtor, better yet, the sellers themselves to come to some mutually acceptable arrangements. Calculations ran rampant in her mind. She would need a business plan and financial statements and—
    All thoughts ceased with the timbre of the rich voice reaching her ears, quiet, calm, endearing.
    “That-a-girl. Just lay their quiet for a little longer while your mama takes a peek around the place.”
    Amy turned and took a hesitant step to the banister.
    “You should have seen her face when she walked in the door,” Marshall continued from below, a tiny fist hooked onto his finger. “You’d have thought Santa just put a life-size doll house under her Christmas tree.”
    His soft chuckle that followed stole her breath and burned behind her eyes. He’d always seemed to get her like no one ever had, not even her own mother. But Marshall always had; she never knew how, never needed to know back then, it was just…right.
    So much lost. So much that should have been if only I’d…
    No. She wasn’t going to go there. Her daughter’s bright eyes, staring at the newness of the world, pulled her back to the present. Charlotte was her world now, and she planned to make it the best she could. Maybe, just maybe this B&B could be that, a new start, for both of them.
    And if somewhere down the line Marshall could ever find it in himself to forgive her, and they were lucky enough to have him as a friend again, then she’d add that to her blessing count every night. And if she spent those lonely nights dreaming about him and what might have been, then that would be her private hell to endure.
    When she could focus through the watery haze, his deep blue eyes were staring up at her, and she was too afraid to interpret the soft smile on his rugged face as hope.
    Marshall tipped his head, the haunting expression on Amy’s face cutting him to the core. What was wrong? Was it the house? Her daughter? Could it have something to do with him?
    The last disturbed him the most. Look at what happened last time he let his heart go there.
    He pointed back through the dining room. “If you go this way, you’ll get a chance to see the kitchen,” he offered in hopes of distracting her from her sad thoughts and focus both their attention elsewhere. “There’s a back door through the mudroom at the back, too.”
    She nodded, but the smile gracing the rose lips didn’t reach her eyes as she hurried down the stairs. Closing white knuckles over the stroller handle, she pushed it past him without raising her gaze.
    The wheels of the carriage took on a hollow tone over the linoleum floor, echoing in the empty kitchen as he followed at a slower pace, stopping to lean against the doorframe. She looked so right there in a big country kitchen. The sun coming in through the large window above the sink cast an alternate image over the current one: hair soft around her face, a streak of flour on her cheek as she kneaded dough and laughed at her daughter in a little playpen in the corner…
    “Marshall…Marshall?”
    He blinked out of the remarkably clear picture. “Sorry, what did you say?”
    “I asked if you were okay. You had kind of a funny look on your face.”
    When the back