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Synopsis
Fans of B.J. Daniels and Maisey Yates will love this sizzling, sassy western romance!
Release date: February 20, 2024
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Print pages: 368
Reader says this book is...: emotionally riveting (1) entertaining story (1) heartwarming (1)
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Counting on a Cowboy
Sara Richardson
Thatch Hearst climbed up onto the fence next to the snorting bronc named Wild Bill with an adrenaline buzz that had eluded him for far too long. Back in his SEAL days, he used to get a rush almost daily, but ever since moving to Star Valley, Wyoming, a few years ago to help out on his fallen comrade’s ranch, a true adrenaline rush had been harder to come by.
“All right, Hearst.” Kirby Leatherman gazed up from his post next to the gate at the front of the bucking chute. Though now slightly hunched with arthritis, the old cowboy had once been a saddle bronc riding legend, and he never let anyone forget it. “You ready for this?” Amusement gleamed in his faded brown eyes, and the leathered skin around his mouth pulled into a tight smirk. Even though he was the best trainer in these parts, the man always loved watching amateur cowboys get tossed into the dirt.
“Just about ready.” This might only be a training run to prepare for the big event at the Star Valley Rodeo Days in just over a month, but Thatch had to treat it like the real deal. He’d already made good enough scores in two qualifying events, but his showing wouldn’t be enough to win him the purse—or any respect. And maybe the latter was even more important, considering his family would be attending.
“Remember, hotshot—three and a half finger lengths on the bronc rein. And don’t do any of that rocking you seem so fond of. You gotta stay in control to score points.” Kirby always reminded him how far he had to go. He was a gruff old ass, but Thatch had waited months to get a spot in his training schedule, so he never complained about Kirby’s methods. All he wanted was results.
“All right. I’m going.” He wound his hand around the bronc rein and slid onto the saddle. Wild Bill thrashed beneath him, and Kirby released the gate to set him free.
Thatch’s head immediately jerked back. That first jump always threw him off. But he recovered and raised his left arm. Flashes of the arena passed in front of him—the rafters above, the dirt below, the fence—
“Stop turning your toes out!” Kirby barked. “And lock it down, Hearst. You look like a rag doll out there.”
He was trying to lock it down. Thatch gritted his teeth, attempting to move in sync with the animal, but Wild Bill jackknifed and sent him flying. He hit the ground and rolled.
“Damn it.” Had he even stayed on for eight seconds? If he couldn’t meet the minimum time requirement, style would mean nothing.
While one of Kirby’s assistants corralled Wild Bill, Thatch scrambled to his feet and retrieved his hat from the dirt a few feet away, shaking the dust off. “I don’t understand.” He met his trainer by the fence. “I can’t get past this.” Every time he rode, it was the same thing—he’d manage to stay on the bronc’s back long enough, but there was no finesse. Which meant he’d never win anything.
“You’re too stiff up there,” Kirby informed him for probably the fiftieth time. “The best riders know how to move with the animal. You want to score high? You have to work the spurs and make it look easy.”
“I know. I’ve watched hours of video.” But he couldn’t make his body cooperate once that bronc left the chute. Instead of finding a rhythm, his body tensed all over and locked up on him. “How did you do it?” he demanded. Wasn’t that why he’d hired the great Kirby Leatherman in the first place? To learn all his secrets?
“Hell, I dunno. I just figured it out.” His tone always kept a sharp edge, so Thatch didn’t hold it against him.
“Well, what can I do? I have a month to figure this out.” He had just over a month before his entire family came to watch him ride, and he couldn’t make a fool of himself. Not in front of his brother. Not after what had happened between them. This was Thatch’s chance for redemption—to prove he wasn’t the fool Liam had made him out to be when he’d swooped in and stolen Thatch’s fiancée, Sienna, marrying her.
Kirby leaned an elbow against the fence. “Back in my day, the judges weren’t as strict on form. We got away with powering through.”
“That doesn’t help me much.” He could power through all day. He was in the best shape of his life, even compared with his past SEAL training. “I need to make my riding look more refined.” And that was the one thing he didn’t know how to do.
Kirby straightened and led him out through the gate, stopping at the bench that held Thatch’s bag. “There’re all kinds of alternative methods now. A lot of the young guys are doing yoga to make them more flexible.” He snorted like one of the broncs. “You wouldn’t’ve ever caught me pushing my ass up in the air like that, but whatever.”
Thatch pulled off his gloves and tossed them into his bag. “I know a yoga instructor.” He hadn’t seen Lyric much lately. She’d been busy with the clinic she’d opened up with her friend Kyra in Star Valley—teaching yoga and taking holistic health clients. There was another reason he’d been avoiding her for the past few months, too, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. “I guess I could sign up for a couple of sessions with her.” Not that he wanted his two best friends and ex-colleagues to ever get wind of the fact he’d resorted to doing yoga. Silas and Aiden were more like brothers than friends, and they’d never let him hear the end of it.
“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give the yoga a go,” Kirby grumbled. “Other than that, I’m out of suggestions.” The man walked away. “I gotta take a leak. I’ll see you next time.”
“Yeah. See you soon.” While Kirby might not be able to help him find his inner ballerina, Thatch still needed the man’s arena and training facility so he could continue to log hours on the back of a bronc before the big competition. He needed as much practice as possible to make his riding click.
He couldn’t let his brother watch him fail.
After removing all his protective gear, he lugged his bag to his truck outside and tossed it into the back before climbing into the driver’s seat, where he hesitated. When he’d asked Lyric out at the Christmas party several months back, she’d made it pretty clear she didn’t want to hang out with him. I’m not dating right now, she’d said. So he’d backed off. He knew how to read between the lines. She wasn’t interested in him, and he had no desire to keep trying to win her over—been there, done that in the past, and the effort had crashed and burned when his fiancée had married Liam.
Anyway.
Heaving a sigh, he started up the engine. The fact was, he knew when to admit he needed help, and Lyric was the only one who could give him some pointers when it came to finesse. He had to ask her. He had no choice. They didn’t have to get along or even like each other…
Yeah, right.
He’d tried to force the woman out of his thoughts, and that hadn’t gotten him anywhere. But he needed her expertise. Now he just had to decide how to ask her for it.
He backed out of the parking spot and turned onto the rutted dirt road that wound through an aspen grove before leaving Kirby’s two-hundred-acre ranch. That view of the mountains got to him every time—jagged snow-dusted peaks towering over the valley stretched out before him. The brush and grasses were still soggy from the melting snow, but the world was starting to come alive again too—a patch of green here, buds forming on the tree branches there. The scene held a wild beauty he hadn’t encountered growing up in the Midwest.
After living in the mountains for the past couple of years, he knew he’d find it hard to live anywhere else. He used to think about leaving Star Valley sometimes. Ever since he’d broken up with Sienna eight years ago, restlessness had plagued him. That was what had driven him to become a SEAL in the first place. And now, after losing his best friend on the battlefield and wandering in search of a new purpose, he’d finally found something that made him feel driven again.
Thatch slowed the truck to turn onto Main Street. The town itself wasn’t much of a draw—there were the typical shops, one hotel, and a few decent restaurants. But the people in this valley were gold. He’d seen the power of community after Jace’s death. They’d all come together to help his widow, Tess, rallying behind her when she’d established a wild horse sanctuary on her property in Jace’s memory. These people took care of one another, stood up for one another, and showed up for one another. In someone’s worst and best moments. And he got to be a part of that.
As per usual, the café at the Meadowlark Hotel was hopping, though it wasn’t the facade that drew people in. Like most of the other buildings on Main Street, the Meadowlark had a basic brick-and-clapboard structure, but the owners, Louie and Minnie, kept the inside cozy and friendly and warm.
He spotted a number of familiar vehicles in the parking lot, including Aiden’s, Silas’s, and… Lyric’s. Lately, whenever he saw her car parked out front, he’d drive right on by, but today he was on a mission.
Thatch squeezed into a parking spot and climbed out of the truck with a crick in his lower back again. Somehow, the ground never got softer when he got bucked.
He walked into the restaurant, slightly hunched, and found his friends sitting at a table together in the middle of the happy hour action.
“It’s about time you showed up to have a beer with us.” Silas dragged over another chair. He was sitting next to his wife, Tess. At first, Thatch hadn’t known how he felt about Silas being with their late best friend’s wife, but it turned out the two of them together were just right. His friend had adopted Morgan and Willow, Tess’s two little girls, and now Tess was only a few months away from having another baby to add to their family.
“Yeah, how long has it been since you joined us for happy hour?” Aiden demanded. He was also sitting next to his wife, Kyra.
And they wondered why Thatch stayed away.
Lyric sat between Kyra and Tess. He couldn’t let his gaze linger on her too long, or he’d give himself away. Keeping his eyes off her proved to be a challenge, though. The woman mesmerized him. She had the most expressive dark eyes, a genuine smile that literally made him hear music, and long silky black hair that he swore shimmered.
“So what’ve you been so busy with lately?” Tess rested a hand on her belly and shifted as though she was uncomfortable.
He could relate. “Uh. You know. This and that.” He hadn’t told anyone about his new pastime except for Silas, whom he’d sworn to secrecy, and Lyric, whom he’d only briefly mentioned it to in passing. Thatch didn’t want anyone to know until he was ready to compete.
“You said you had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon.” Aiden sipped his beer. “Everything okay?”
“Great. Everything’s great.” He’d taken off from the rec center job site to do his training run. As a general rule, he didn’t lie to Silas and Aiden, but this was a special circumstance. “How’s everyone here?” Might as well get the attention off himself. “How’s that baby, Tess?”
“Big,” she said fondly. “And I’m pretty sure this little jumping bean is going to be a gymnast.”
“You should feel the kicks,” Silas mused, easing his arm around his wife.
Thatch got an internal ache every once in a while when he saw something he’d thought he would’ve had by now right in front of him. He was going to get married once. He and Sienna had talked about kids…
“Oh, shoot.” Lyric hopped up. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I have to get going.” She slipped on her jacket. “See you all later.”
Was she leaving because he’d come? It didn’t matter. He had to put his pride aside and talk to her.
“I should get going too.” Thatch stood so fast he almost knocked the chair over backward.
“But you just got here,” Aiden protested.
“And you haven’t even had a beer yet,” Silas added.
“That’ll have to wait. I forgot I have some things to take care of.” He hurried away before they could ask more questions and caught up to Lyric so he could hold open the door for her.
“Oh. Thank you.” Her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “I haven’t seen you around much.”
“Yeah. I’ve been busy.” He walked her to her car even though his truck sat on the opposite side of the parking lot.
“Still training?” she asked too politely. She was probably afraid he was going to ask her out again.
He might as well put that fear to rest right now. “Yes, and that’s what I need to talk to you about.” No sense in dragging out this conversation with small talk. “I need more flexibility and finesse to smooth out my rides. Kirby suggested I try yoga.”
Lyric laughed and then quickly held a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. You’re serious? You tried yoga once, remember?”
“How could I forget?” He’d been sore after a training run a few months back, so he’d asked Lyric for some stretches. Needless to say, he hadn’t enjoyed contorting his body that way. “I need to make some major progress before the Rodeo Days, though. At this point, I’ll try anything.”
Her smile faded. “You’re competing at Rodeo Days?”
“Planning on it. I’ve already qualified.” He studied those eyes. She was trying to mask her concern. He could tell.
“I thought bronc riding was just a hobby for you. Why would you compete?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand. You, Silas, and Aiden have a successful business. You’re busy. Why do you need to spend time getting bucked off a bronc?”
“I like the challenge.” He tried to scrub the defensiveness out of his tone. “The rush. And I have to put up a good showing.” She didn’t need to know about his rivalry with his brother. “So will you help me?”
“I don’t know, Thatch.” Lyric pressed her key fob to unlock her door. “I used to have a lot of connections in that world, and I don’t want anything to do with it these days.”
The temptation to ask what her connections had been burned in his chest. She’d never said anything before. But Lyric got into her car, and he couldn’t let her go without an answer. “You don’t have to be part of the rodeo world to help me. You don’t even have to show up at Kirby’s place for training or watch me compete or anything. I just need to work on my finesse. That can be done in your studio.” He stepped back so he didn’t crowd her. He didn’t want to bully her into this, but he wasn’t above begging. “We could make a trade. I could do work around your house or help you with a project or something. I just really need your help.” Welp, there went all his pride again.
“I’ll think about it, okay?” She latched in her seat belt and started up the engine. “I mean, I’m really busy with my classes and appointments at the clinic.”
“I know.” And he didn’t want to add any complications to her life. “We could meet a few times a week. Whenever you have openings. I’ll totally work around your schedule.” Having said all he needed to, he moved aside so she could back out. “Think about it and let me know.”
He wouldn’t hold his breath for that phone call.
Lyric pulled the mats down from their stack on the shelf at the front of her studio and spaced them out evenly on the bamboo floor. This was her space—her happy place. From the leaded stained-glass windows along the west wall to the barely turquoise Calm Breeze color she’d painted on the walls, this room always brought her a centered calm.
She sat on one of the mats in lotus pose, connecting with her breath. Deep inhale. Slow methodic exhale. The pattern didn’t settle her mind the way it usually did. She had Thatch to thank for that. She was still too wired from their conversation. Why had she agreed to think about doing one-on-one yoga sessions with the man?
Ever since her divorce six years ago, Lyric had managed to avoid dating. It wasn’t too hard given the low population in Star Valley. Some of her clients had asked her out when she’d taught at the resorts in Jackson, but they were easy to reject because she didn’t care about them. Most of the time, she never saw them again after class.
Saying no had been harder with Thatch when he’d asked her out. For a few seconds, she’d been tempted to say yes. But she’d dated a cowboy once. Then she’d married said cowboy, and that had been the biggest mistake of her life. Since then, she’d built a successful business. She’d built a life that made her happy all on her own.
Yet she couldn’t deny her attraction to Thatch. He was laid-back and down-to-earth. Easy to be with. She’d felt some intense flutterings anytime she looked into his perceptive hazel eyes, but those flutterings were how all her troubles had started years ago too. No. She couldn’t date Thatch. She liked the simplicity of her life, the ease. She had no desire to create room for anything—or anyone—else.
The door to the studio opened, and her newest clients traipsed in—a group of girls from the local high school. She’d agreed to take them on because they’d all failed gym class last term. Apparently, they preferred sitting on the bleachers to chat over doing anything physical. Since the gym teacher was a friend of hers, Lyric had said she’d help out and hopefully convince them to love a different kind of physical exercise in the process.
“Hi, everyone.” She hopped up to greet them. After studying the pictures her friend had sent with info about each student, she recognized them. Elina was the one with long black hair. Actually, she was easy to remember because she reminded Lyric of herself at that age. Tallie had lighter hair and the most amazing spiked pixie cut with the tips dyed hot pink. Cheyenne was taller than the rest of them and had auburn ringlet curls, and Skye wore her blond hair in a long braid down her back.
Most of them mumbled “hey” back, but they weren’t smiling like she was. No matter. Give her a few weeks with these girls, and they’d all be smiling by the end.
Lyric turned on some music to get the class started on the right foot. As far as she was concerned, things were already going well. She’d actually remembered their names and faces! Usually, that wasn’t her forte.
“Glad you all made it.” They were all dressed in athletic wear too, which was a plus. In the pictures she’d received, there’d been a lot of skintight denim. “We’re going to have so much fun together over the next several weeks,” she assured them. Her friend had informed her that these four girls were full of potential… they just needed some direction and maybe a little mentoring along the way. And Lyric always loved a project.
“Right.” Tallie shot Skye a glare. “Giving up our whole night for a school yoga class is super fun.”
“How long is this gonna take, anyway?” Elina asked, glancing at her smartwatch. “I have to be out of here by seven.”
Lyric kept her smile intact. There’d been a time back in the days of her own teenage strife when she’d had a bit of a ’tude too. “As long as we get through everything, you should be out of here in an hour.” She pointed to the low floating shelves by the door. “You can take off your shoes and put them over there, and then each of you choose your mat.”
The girls took their sweet time trudging to the shelves, chatting in hushed tones while they took off their shoes.
“It smells weird in here,” Cheyenne said to Skye.
“That’s just my essential oils diffuser,” Lyric informed them brightly. “The scent is called Cheer. It inspires an energizing and positive environment.” Judging from their obvious distaste for yoga, they would need all the positivity they could get. “The first thing we’re going to work on today is breath,” she said when they’d all found a place on their mats. “Breath is a foundational part of movement.”
“We know how to breathe.” Skye had certainly mastered the art of eye rolling.
“Good. Then this shouldn’t be too hard.” Lyric hit the volume button on the remote for her speaker, bumping it up a few notches. Maybe the instrumentals would help bring in the positivity. “Let’s all stand at the center of our mats with our feet hip distance apart.”
They glowered at her but assumed the stance. Keeping her smile steady, she walked them through the five golden rules for yoga breathing and then led them through forward folds.
“This is so boring,” Tallie complained, standing up abruptly instead of moving her spine one vertebra at a time as Lyric had instructed.
“I kind of like it.” Cheyenne took her time rolling back up to her full height and then shook out her shoulders. “At least it’s not hard like that soccer unit in gym class.”
“Who cares about breathing?” Skye grumbled, messing with her own smartwatch.
Okay, Lyric would have to ban the watches. She inhaled deeply, grasping at patience.
“Sometimes, it’s hard to slow down your mind enough to connect with your body,” she acknowledged. Maybe jumping right in with these four wasn’t the best approach. She needed to build a rapport with them. Yoga had done so much for her—helping her manage anxiety, giving her an outlet to connect her body, spirit, and mind. Maybe they would find it beneficial too, but only if she helped them see the benefits. She paused the music. “Why don’t we all take a seat on the mats for a few minutes?” She lowered herself and struck a butterfly pose with the soles of her feet together and her knees bent out wide.
Looking at one another hesitantly, the girls all followed suit.
“Ow.” Elina straightened her legs out instead of bending her knees. “That hurts.”
“That’s because your muscles are tight.” In fact, none of them was able to get too close to a real butterfly. . .
“All right, Hearst.” Kirby Leatherman gazed up from his post next to the gate at the front of the bucking chute. Though now slightly hunched with arthritis, the old cowboy had once been a saddle bronc riding legend, and he never let anyone forget it. “You ready for this?” Amusement gleamed in his faded brown eyes, and the leathered skin around his mouth pulled into a tight smirk. Even though he was the best trainer in these parts, the man always loved watching amateur cowboys get tossed into the dirt.
“Just about ready.” This might only be a training run to prepare for the big event at the Star Valley Rodeo Days in just over a month, but Thatch had to treat it like the real deal. He’d already made good enough scores in two qualifying events, but his showing wouldn’t be enough to win him the purse—or any respect. And maybe the latter was even more important, considering his family would be attending.
“Remember, hotshot—three and a half finger lengths on the bronc rein. And don’t do any of that rocking you seem so fond of. You gotta stay in control to score points.” Kirby always reminded him how far he had to go. He was a gruff old ass, but Thatch had waited months to get a spot in his training schedule, so he never complained about Kirby’s methods. All he wanted was results.
“All right. I’m going.” He wound his hand around the bronc rein and slid onto the saddle. Wild Bill thrashed beneath him, and Kirby released the gate to set him free.
Thatch’s head immediately jerked back. That first jump always threw him off. But he recovered and raised his left arm. Flashes of the arena passed in front of him—the rafters above, the dirt below, the fence—
“Stop turning your toes out!” Kirby barked. “And lock it down, Hearst. You look like a rag doll out there.”
He was trying to lock it down. Thatch gritted his teeth, attempting to move in sync with the animal, but Wild Bill jackknifed and sent him flying. He hit the ground and rolled.
“Damn it.” Had he even stayed on for eight seconds? If he couldn’t meet the minimum time requirement, style would mean nothing.
While one of Kirby’s assistants corralled Wild Bill, Thatch scrambled to his feet and retrieved his hat from the dirt a few feet away, shaking the dust off. “I don’t understand.” He met his trainer by the fence. “I can’t get past this.” Every time he rode, it was the same thing—he’d manage to stay on the bronc’s back long enough, but there was no finesse. Which meant he’d never win anything.
“You’re too stiff up there,” Kirby informed him for probably the fiftieth time. “The best riders know how to move with the animal. You want to score high? You have to work the spurs and make it look easy.”
“I know. I’ve watched hours of video.” But he couldn’t make his body cooperate once that bronc left the chute. Instead of finding a rhythm, his body tensed all over and locked up on him. “How did you do it?” he demanded. Wasn’t that why he’d hired the great Kirby Leatherman in the first place? To learn all his secrets?
“Hell, I dunno. I just figured it out.” His tone always kept a sharp edge, so Thatch didn’t hold it against him.
“Well, what can I do? I have a month to figure this out.” He had just over a month before his entire family came to watch him ride, and he couldn’t make a fool of himself. Not in front of his brother. Not after what had happened between them. This was Thatch’s chance for redemption—to prove he wasn’t the fool Liam had made him out to be when he’d swooped in and stolen Thatch’s fiancée, Sienna, marrying her.
Kirby leaned an elbow against the fence. “Back in my day, the judges weren’t as strict on form. We got away with powering through.”
“That doesn’t help me much.” He could power through all day. He was in the best shape of his life, even compared with his past SEAL training. “I need to make my riding look more refined.” And that was the one thing he didn’t know how to do.
Kirby straightened and led him out through the gate, stopping at the bench that held Thatch’s bag. “There’re all kinds of alternative methods now. A lot of the young guys are doing yoga to make them more flexible.” He snorted like one of the broncs. “You wouldn’t’ve ever caught me pushing my ass up in the air like that, but whatever.”
Thatch pulled off his gloves and tossed them into his bag. “I know a yoga instructor.” He hadn’t seen Lyric much lately. She’d been busy with the clinic she’d opened up with her friend Kyra in Star Valley—teaching yoga and taking holistic health clients. There was another reason he’d been avoiding her for the past few months, too, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. “I guess I could sign up for a couple of sessions with her.” Not that he wanted his two best friends and ex-colleagues to ever get wind of the fact he’d resorted to doing yoga. Silas and Aiden were more like brothers than friends, and they’d never let him hear the end of it.
“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give the yoga a go,” Kirby grumbled. “Other than that, I’m out of suggestions.” The man walked away. “I gotta take a leak. I’ll see you next time.”
“Yeah. See you soon.” While Kirby might not be able to help him find his inner ballerina, Thatch still needed the man’s arena and training facility so he could continue to log hours on the back of a bronc before the big competition. He needed as much practice as possible to make his riding click.
He couldn’t let his brother watch him fail.
After removing all his protective gear, he lugged his bag to his truck outside and tossed it into the back before climbing into the driver’s seat, where he hesitated. When he’d asked Lyric out at the Christmas party several months back, she’d made it pretty clear she didn’t want to hang out with him. I’m not dating right now, she’d said. So he’d backed off. He knew how to read between the lines. She wasn’t interested in him, and he had no desire to keep trying to win her over—been there, done that in the past, and the effort had crashed and burned when his fiancée had married Liam.
Anyway.
Heaving a sigh, he started up the engine. The fact was, he knew when to admit he needed help, and Lyric was the only one who could give him some pointers when it came to finesse. He had to ask her. He had no choice. They didn’t have to get along or even like each other…
Yeah, right.
He’d tried to force the woman out of his thoughts, and that hadn’t gotten him anywhere. But he needed her expertise. Now he just had to decide how to ask her for it.
He backed out of the parking spot and turned onto the rutted dirt road that wound through an aspen grove before leaving Kirby’s two-hundred-acre ranch. That view of the mountains got to him every time—jagged snow-dusted peaks towering over the valley stretched out before him. The brush and grasses were still soggy from the melting snow, but the world was starting to come alive again too—a patch of green here, buds forming on the tree branches there. The scene held a wild beauty he hadn’t encountered growing up in the Midwest.
After living in the mountains for the past couple of years, he knew he’d find it hard to live anywhere else. He used to think about leaving Star Valley sometimes. Ever since he’d broken up with Sienna eight years ago, restlessness had plagued him. That was what had driven him to become a SEAL in the first place. And now, after losing his best friend on the battlefield and wandering in search of a new purpose, he’d finally found something that made him feel driven again.
Thatch slowed the truck to turn onto Main Street. The town itself wasn’t much of a draw—there were the typical shops, one hotel, and a few decent restaurants. But the people in this valley were gold. He’d seen the power of community after Jace’s death. They’d all come together to help his widow, Tess, rallying behind her when she’d established a wild horse sanctuary on her property in Jace’s memory. These people took care of one another, stood up for one another, and showed up for one another. In someone’s worst and best moments. And he got to be a part of that.
As per usual, the café at the Meadowlark Hotel was hopping, though it wasn’t the facade that drew people in. Like most of the other buildings on Main Street, the Meadowlark had a basic brick-and-clapboard structure, but the owners, Louie and Minnie, kept the inside cozy and friendly and warm.
He spotted a number of familiar vehicles in the parking lot, including Aiden’s, Silas’s, and… Lyric’s. Lately, whenever he saw her car parked out front, he’d drive right on by, but today he was on a mission.
Thatch squeezed into a parking spot and climbed out of the truck with a crick in his lower back again. Somehow, the ground never got softer when he got bucked.
He walked into the restaurant, slightly hunched, and found his friends sitting at a table together in the middle of the happy hour action.
“It’s about time you showed up to have a beer with us.” Silas dragged over another chair. He was sitting next to his wife, Tess. At first, Thatch hadn’t known how he felt about Silas being with their late best friend’s wife, but it turned out the two of them together were just right. His friend had adopted Morgan and Willow, Tess’s two little girls, and now Tess was only a few months away from having another baby to add to their family.
“Yeah, how long has it been since you joined us for happy hour?” Aiden demanded. He was also sitting next to his wife, Kyra.
And they wondered why Thatch stayed away.
Lyric sat between Kyra and Tess. He couldn’t let his gaze linger on her too long, or he’d give himself away. Keeping his eyes off her proved to be a challenge, though. The woman mesmerized him. She had the most expressive dark eyes, a genuine smile that literally made him hear music, and long silky black hair that he swore shimmered.
“So what’ve you been so busy with lately?” Tess rested a hand on her belly and shifted as though she was uncomfortable.
He could relate. “Uh. You know. This and that.” He hadn’t told anyone about his new pastime except for Silas, whom he’d sworn to secrecy, and Lyric, whom he’d only briefly mentioned it to in passing. Thatch didn’t want anyone to know until he was ready to compete.
“You said you had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon.” Aiden sipped his beer. “Everything okay?”
“Great. Everything’s great.” He’d taken off from the rec center job site to do his training run. As a general rule, he didn’t lie to Silas and Aiden, but this was a special circumstance. “How’s everyone here?” Might as well get the attention off himself. “How’s that baby, Tess?”
“Big,” she said fondly. “And I’m pretty sure this little jumping bean is going to be a gymnast.”
“You should feel the kicks,” Silas mused, easing his arm around his wife.
Thatch got an internal ache every once in a while when he saw something he’d thought he would’ve had by now right in front of him. He was going to get married once. He and Sienna had talked about kids…
“Oh, shoot.” Lyric hopped up. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I have to get going.” She slipped on her jacket. “See you all later.”
Was she leaving because he’d come? It didn’t matter. He had to put his pride aside and talk to her.
“I should get going too.” Thatch stood so fast he almost knocked the chair over backward.
“But you just got here,” Aiden protested.
“And you haven’t even had a beer yet,” Silas added.
“That’ll have to wait. I forgot I have some things to take care of.” He hurried away before they could ask more questions and caught up to Lyric so he could hold open the door for her.
“Oh. Thank you.” Her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “I haven’t seen you around much.”
“Yeah. I’ve been busy.” He walked her to her car even though his truck sat on the opposite side of the parking lot.
“Still training?” she asked too politely. She was probably afraid he was going to ask her out again.
He might as well put that fear to rest right now. “Yes, and that’s what I need to talk to you about.” No sense in dragging out this conversation with small talk. “I need more flexibility and finesse to smooth out my rides. Kirby suggested I try yoga.”
Lyric laughed and then quickly held a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. You’re serious? You tried yoga once, remember?”
“How could I forget?” He’d been sore after a training run a few months back, so he’d asked Lyric for some stretches. Needless to say, he hadn’t enjoyed contorting his body that way. “I need to make some major progress before the Rodeo Days, though. At this point, I’ll try anything.”
Her smile faded. “You’re competing at Rodeo Days?”
“Planning on it. I’ve already qualified.” He studied those eyes. She was trying to mask her concern. He could tell.
“I thought bronc riding was just a hobby for you. Why would you compete?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand. You, Silas, and Aiden have a successful business. You’re busy. Why do you need to spend time getting bucked off a bronc?”
“I like the challenge.” He tried to scrub the defensiveness out of his tone. “The rush. And I have to put up a good showing.” She didn’t need to know about his rivalry with his brother. “So will you help me?”
“I don’t know, Thatch.” Lyric pressed her key fob to unlock her door. “I used to have a lot of connections in that world, and I don’t want anything to do with it these days.”
The temptation to ask what her connections had been burned in his chest. She’d never said anything before. But Lyric got into her car, and he couldn’t let her go without an answer. “You don’t have to be part of the rodeo world to help me. You don’t even have to show up at Kirby’s place for training or watch me compete or anything. I just need to work on my finesse. That can be done in your studio.” He stepped back so he didn’t crowd her. He didn’t want to bully her into this, but he wasn’t above begging. “We could make a trade. I could do work around your house or help you with a project or something. I just really need your help.” Welp, there went all his pride again.
“I’ll think about it, okay?” She latched in her seat belt and started up the engine. “I mean, I’m really busy with my classes and appointments at the clinic.”
“I know.” And he didn’t want to add any complications to her life. “We could meet a few times a week. Whenever you have openings. I’ll totally work around your schedule.” Having said all he needed to, he moved aside so she could back out. “Think about it and let me know.”
He wouldn’t hold his breath for that phone call.
Lyric pulled the mats down from their stack on the shelf at the front of her studio and spaced them out evenly on the bamboo floor. This was her space—her happy place. From the leaded stained-glass windows along the west wall to the barely turquoise Calm Breeze color she’d painted on the walls, this room always brought her a centered calm.
She sat on one of the mats in lotus pose, connecting with her breath. Deep inhale. Slow methodic exhale. The pattern didn’t settle her mind the way it usually did. She had Thatch to thank for that. She was still too wired from their conversation. Why had she agreed to think about doing one-on-one yoga sessions with the man?
Ever since her divorce six years ago, Lyric had managed to avoid dating. It wasn’t too hard given the low population in Star Valley. Some of her clients had asked her out when she’d taught at the resorts in Jackson, but they were easy to reject because she didn’t care about them. Most of the time, she never saw them again after class.
Saying no had been harder with Thatch when he’d asked her out. For a few seconds, she’d been tempted to say yes. But she’d dated a cowboy once. Then she’d married said cowboy, and that had been the biggest mistake of her life. Since then, she’d built a successful business. She’d built a life that made her happy all on her own.
Yet she couldn’t deny her attraction to Thatch. He was laid-back and down-to-earth. Easy to be with. She’d felt some intense flutterings anytime she looked into his perceptive hazel eyes, but those flutterings were how all her troubles had started years ago too. No. She couldn’t date Thatch. She liked the simplicity of her life, the ease. She had no desire to create room for anything—or anyone—else.
The door to the studio opened, and her newest clients traipsed in—a group of girls from the local high school. She’d agreed to take them on because they’d all failed gym class last term. Apparently, they preferred sitting on the bleachers to chat over doing anything physical. Since the gym teacher was a friend of hers, Lyric had said she’d help out and hopefully convince them to love a different kind of physical exercise in the process.
“Hi, everyone.” She hopped up to greet them. After studying the pictures her friend had sent with info about each student, she recognized them. Elina was the one with long black hair. Actually, she was easy to remember because she reminded Lyric of herself at that age. Tallie had lighter hair and the most amazing spiked pixie cut with the tips dyed hot pink. Cheyenne was taller than the rest of them and had auburn ringlet curls, and Skye wore her blond hair in a long braid down her back.
Most of them mumbled “hey” back, but they weren’t smiling like she was. No matter. Give her a few weeks with these girls, and they’d all be smiling by the end.
Lyric turned on some music to get the class started on the right foot. As far as she was concerned, things were already going well. She’d actually remembered their names and faces! Usually, that wasn’t her forte.
“Glad you all made it.” They were all dressed in athletic wear too, which was a plus. In the pictures she’d received, there’d been a lot of skintight denim. “We’re going to have so much fun together over the next several weeks,” she assured them. Her friend had informed her that these four girls were full of potential… they just needed some direction and maybe a little mentoring along the way. And Lyric always loved a project.
“Right.” Tallie shot Skye a glare. “Giving up our whole night for a school yoga class is super fun.”
“How long is this gonna take, anyway?” Elina asked, glancing at her smartwatch. “I have to be out of here by seven.”
Lyric kept her smile intact. There’d been a time back in the days of her own teenage strife when she’d had a bit of a ’tude too. “As long as we get through everything, you should be out of here in an hour.” She pointed to the low floating shelves by the door. “You can take off your shoes and put them over there, and then each of you choose your mat.”
The girls took their sweet time trudging to the shelves, chatting in hushed tones while they took off their shoes.
“It smells weird in here,” Cheyenne said to Skye.
“That’s just my essential oils diffuser,” Lyric informed them brightly. “The scent is called Cheer. It inspires an energizing and positive environment.” Judging from their obvious distaste for yoga, they would need all the positivity they could get. “The first thing we’re going to work on today is breath,” she said when they’d all found a place on their mats. “Breath is a foundational part of movement.”
“We know how to breathe.” Skye had certainly mastered the art of eye rolling.
“Good. Then this shouldn’t be too hard.” Lyric hit the volume button on the remote for her speaker, bumping it up a few notches. Maybe the instrumentals would help bring in the positivity. “Let’s all stand at the center of our mats with our feet hip distance apart.”
They glowered at her but assumed the stance. Keeping her smile steady, she walked them through the five golden rules for yoga breathing and then led them through forward folds.
“This is so boring,” Tallie complained, standing up abruptly instead of moving her spine one vertebra at a time as Lyric had instructed.
“I kind of like it.” Cheyenne took her time rolling back up to her full height and then shook out her shoulders. “At least it’s not hard like that soccer unit in gym class.”
“Who cares about breathing?” Skye grumbled, messing with her own smartwatch.
Okay, Lyric would have to ban the watches. She inhaled deeply, grasping at patience.
“Sometimes, it’s hard to slow down your mind enough to connect with your body,” she acknowledged. Maybe jumping right in with these four wasn’t the best approach. She needed to build a rapport with them. Yoga had done so much for her—helping her manage anxiety, giving her an outlet to connect her body, spirit, and mind. Maybe they would find it beneficial too, but only if she helped them see the benefits. She paused the music. “Why don’t we all take a seat on the mats for a few minutes?” She lowered herself and struck a butterfly pose with the soles of her feet together and her knees bent out wide.
Looking at one another hesitantly, the girls all followed suit.
“Ow.” Elina straightened her legs out instead of bending her knees. “That hurts.”
“That’s because your muscles are tight.” In fact, none of them was able to get too close to a real butterfly. . .
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Counting on a Cowboy
Sara Richardson
Copyright © 2025 All Rights Reserved
NOTE: Due to the nature of the story line premise, there may be triggers for more sensitive readers.
Told from dual omniscient third person perspectives (Lyric and Thatch) C...
NOTE: Due to the nature of the story line premise, there may be triggers for more sensitive readers.
Told from dual omniscient third person perspectives (Lyric and Thatch) COUNTING ON A COWBOY follows the fake but building relationship between our story line couple. Thatch Hearst is struggling in his training for an upcoming rodeo, and a suggestion to try yoga is just what was needed. Thatch has been lusting after local yoga instructor Lyric Valenza for as long as he can remember but Lyric’s outright refusal at Thatch’s attempts made life a little more difficult but having witnessed a possible case of domestic abuse, Lyric agrees to Thatch’s request in exchange for helping her uncover the truth. A fake relationship that will turn into something more hits a road block when Lyric is unable to let go of the past, a past that continues to control her present. What ensues is the building relationship between Lyric and Thatch,and the potential fall-out as Lyric runs at the first sign of trouble.
The world building focuses on betrayal and domestic abuse. Lyric struggles to trust; to open her heart to a potential future with Thatch but Thatch has his own fair share of betrayal, and in this, the face of his betrayers are someone he once loved.
The relationship between Thatch and Lyric is one of tepid friendship as Lyric continues to push Thatch away at every opportunity. Everyone suspects Thatch is in love with our story line heroine but Lyric struggles to open her heat to something new. The $ex scenes are passionate but mostly implied.
There is a large ensemble cast of charismatic secondary and supporting characters many of whom we met in the previous instalments including Aiden and Kyra (Waiting on a Christmas Cowboy), Tess and Silas (Betting on a Good Luck Cowboy), as well as several local high school girls, and Thatch’s large extended family.
COUNTING ON A COWBOY is a story of betrayal and heart break, family and friendships, relationships and love. The premise is captivating and intriguing but the return of Lyric’s past is slightly underwhelming. The romance is understated yet affectionate; the characters are desperate and dynamic.
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