Page 48 of Cowboy Elite 2: Mike

They sat there, wrapped around each other, the swing rocking slow beneath them.

Inside, the house glowed warm. Voices drifted out—Heather laughing at something Lyle said, Charlotte singing nonsense, the clatter of dishes being washed.

Home.

Liv let herself lean into Mike's chest, let his arms come around her, let the steady thud of his heartbeat anchor her.

"I don't know what happens next," she whispered. “My life is so up in the air . . . New York, my business, this whole Russo mess. But I do know that right this minute, I’m exactly where I want to be.”

9

The next few days settled into a rhythm that felt almost too good to be true. Wake before dawn, bake until the kitchen smelled like heaven, laugh with Mike as they navigated the breakfast rush, then spend lazy afternoons learning ranch life from Heather. It was simple. It was peaceful. It was everything Olivia Langford had never known she wanted.

Mike had put Patsy Cline on the old turntable before heading out to check the cattle, and Liv caught herself humming along to "Walkin' After Midnight" while she crimped the edges of cinnamon knots.

Charlotte banged through the screen door, one boot on, one off, braids half-undone and Pudge skidding behind her like a furry orange missile. That cat followed her around like a dog. It was the darndest thing.

"Did you make the banana ones? The crunchy-top ones? Uncle Mike said—" She paused, eyes going wide with six-year-old drama. "He said you're a genius and I could maybe have two if I did all my chicken chores without complaining even once."

Liv grinned, folding a napkin around a hot muffin. The little girl had become her shadow these past few days, always underfoot but never in the way. Charlotte had a gift for making everything feel lighter, more hopeful. In the back of her mind was the conversation she’d had with Heather about the child getting attached. Liv didn’t know what to do about that.

"You finish your chores and you get a bonus strawberry, little lady. That's my deal."

Charlotte flashed a grin with baby-toothed gaps. "You're way nicer than Uncle Mike. He makes me sweep the whole porch before I get extras. Even the corners where the spiders live."

Mike strode in and headed for the sink to wash his hands. "I heard that, Charlotte Rose. And those spiders are paying rent same as everybody else, so you leave 'em be while you sweep."

The kitchen erupted in laughter, plates scraping, Arletta's two boys grinning over their dishwater, the easy warmth of family wrapped up in the scent of bacon and fresh banana bread.

Liv watched the exchange with warmth spreading through her chest. This was what family looked like. Teasing and laughter and unconditional love served up alongside breakfast. She’d never even dreamed this lifestyle existed and now all she could think was that it was everything she'd been running toward without even knowing it.

The morning unspooled gracefully. Guests came and went, wranglers wandered in for seconds of cheddar grits, and Arletta gathered plates with a humming commentary of town gossip "Miz Knowles's donkey had twins. Imagine the noise, honey girl.” Liz knew nothing about donkeys, but noise or not, she thought she might like to see those babies.

After the breakfast rush settled, Liv found herself actually looking forward to the day ahead instead of counting the hours until she could hide in her room. The threat to her life still loomed, but something had shifted in her after the family meeting and target practice.

"You're humming again," Mike observed, sliding up beside her at the prep counter. His shoulder brushed hers as he reached for a clean towel, and the contact sent a familiar flutter through her stomach.

"Am I?" She hadn't realized.

"It's a good sound." His eyes held hers for a beat longer than necessary. "Suits you."

Before she could respond, Heather appeared in the doorway holding a clipboard covered in what looked like Charlotte's artistic interpretation of dogs wearing party hats.

"Liv, you said you used to organize charity events back in New York, right?"

Liv wiped her hands on her apron. "When I wasn't dodging health inspectors or psycho food critics, sure."

Heather thrust the clipboard forward. "Animal shelter bake sale, two weeks from Saturday. Charlotte's dying to help, and the Bear Valley News wants a photo spread if we can get enough volunteers. Will you plan it with us? Maybe lend your magic touch?"

The request caught Liv off guard. In New York, she'd organized dozens of charity events—elaborate affairs with celebrity chefs and thousand-dollar plates. But this felt different. More personal. More real.

"Sure," Liv said, the words tumbling out before she could second-guess herself. The problem was, she had no idea where she’d be in two weeks. But she wasn’t going to let that control her. "What do you need?"

"Make us famous," Heather said. "Or at least make enough money to get that new X-ray machine Lyle’s been hinting about since Easter."

Charlotte bounced on her toes, practically vibrating. "Maybe we could make puppy chow snack mix for the humans and the dogs! And cookies shaped like bones! And maybe a big cake that looks like a doghouse!"

Liv laughed, catching Charlotte's enthusiasm. "We'll brainstorm at lunch. I've got some ideas that might work."