One Night with a Cowboy - Sara Richardson Page 0,6

if she wanted attention or if she really felt so matter-of-fact about Dylan’s death.

“I still volunteer with the organization.” She managed to say the words without a tremble in her voice. “And this is important to me.” Every year, she led a new group of families on the retreat, and she’d stayed in touch with each one. If she could help these families, maybe they wouldn’t walk down the road she and Dylan had been walking right before his death.

Guilt lodged itself painfully in her throat, bringing on the ache of regret. If she’d known he was going to die, maybe she would’ve tried harder to save their marriage. Maybe she would’ve found a solution. Instead, the last conversation she’d had with her husband before his ultimate sacrifice had been about divorce. No one knew that, though. No one could ever know that. Not her children, not her friends. She and Dylan had managed to hide their problems from everyone for years.

“What’s that smell?” Ryan, her ten-year-old son, came bounding into the kitchen.

“The soufflé!” Thea lurched to the oven and threw open the door, holding her breath. The fluffy confection had risen from the dish like a chocolate miracle. She slipped on her oven mitts and carefully pulled the dish out of the oven. “It’s so pretty.”

“Crisis averted,” her daughter muttered.

“What is it?” Ryan came over to inspect the dessert, wrinkling his nose.

“A soufflé.” Thea set the dish on a hot pad on the counter. Dust on a little powdered sugar, and it would look exactly like the one on Pinterest.

“It smells soooo good.” Her son leaned in closer, and she resisted the urge to back him up. She was really working on toning down her perfectionistic tendencies in front of her children. “We’ll all get to taste it soon.” She glanced at the clock. The rest of the families would arrive in ten minutes.

“I can’t wait to go to Colorado again.” Her son climbed up onto the stool next to his sister.

“I can’t either.” She loved her job as a social worker for the school district, but the last semester, her caseload had nearly doubled. She needed some time off, and there was no place here in Texas quite like Silverado Lake Ranch. Her friend Jane’s father had built the place on the shores of a glacier-fed lake decades ago, and it was the perfect place to escape. Thea snuck a glance at her daughter, who was busy tapping away on the screen of her phone. Now more than ever, she needed to reconnect with her kids. Olivia was getting older—and lately she’d felt more distant. And Ryan…well, he was too much like Thea. Her son always put on a smile, a good front, but she often saw glimpses of sadness and grief in him.

You’d think her career would’ve made her the perfect person to talk him through those feelings, but Ryan never mentioned his father. And if she did, he often changed the subject.

That didn’t mean he didn’t miss Dylan, though. Just the other day, she’d found him in his room looking through the picture album she’d made for him and Liv after the funeral. Tears were still stuck in his eyelashes, but when she’d asked if he wanted to talk, he’d insisted he was fine. Ryan was a brave boy, but she didn’t want him to grow up denying his pain and always pretending to be okay.

The doorbell rang. Ten minutes early. That had to be the Hershbergers. Though Calvin had recently retired from active duty, he still ran a tight ship. “Olivia, will you please answer the door?” Thea started to fuss with the plates and napkins she’d set out, always and forever organizing.

“I will!” Before his sister could drag herself off the stool, Ryan was already racing out of the kitchen.

Thea walked over to Olivia and tilted the iPhone away from her face. “Phone down or it’s mine. You know the rules when we have company.”

“It’s not my company,” Olivia grumbled, but she slipped the phone into her pocket, obviously unwilling to risk Thea’s threat.

Oh, how she longed for the days when her daughter had smiled more, bringing light into every room she entered. These days Liv entered the room more like a thunderstorm—rumbling off annoyed sighs. According to the friends who’d walked this road with teenagers before her, it was normal. But still, she missed her baby girl.

“Thea.” Kelly Hershberger glided into the kitchen and hurried to give her a hug. As always, the