Page 4 of My Match with the Cowboy (Sterling Brothers Ranch #4)

THREE

CALDER

A s per Ma’s request, I have a bouquet of knitted flowers for Miss Iris. I don’t know the story behind their friendship, but Ma likes to say she and Iris have a special kind of bond. Happened after Foster was born or something.

But I bring my fist to the door again, ready to knock—praying I haven’t just woken Iris up from a nap or something—when it swings open.

The old lady isn’t the one standing there, walker in hand.

A beautiful brunette stares up at me, brows raised. Her dark hair is pulled up in a bun, strands framing her heart-shaped face. A pink flush blooms across her full cheeks, and her eyes, the same shade of brown as her hair, darken.

I tip my hat at her, mouth suddenly dry. She has on nurse’s scrubs, which tells me immediately who she is. Iris’s new, younger nurse. I can’t tell how old she is, but she can’t be much younger than I am. Maybe a little older than my sister, Lydia.

She doesn’t nearly look old enough to be a nurse. The nurse is at least five inches shorter than me, making her look smaller despite the curves hidden behind her pink scrubs.

“Yes?” She rests a hand on her hip, the other still holding the door open.

I must look like a damned fool. “I, uh, I’m here for Iris,” I manage, clearing my throat.

From the room, Iris cackles. “Told you, sweetheart! My date’s here.”

The nurse’s eyes narrow. She wears a tag on her chest with her name in bold: IMOGEN WATTS . Imogen . Damn.

At first she doesn’t appear inclined to let me in. Her hand stays on the doorframe, but she doesn’t move.

Time to bring on the charm.

“Can’t stop me from kidnapping her, I fear.” I take a step towards Imogen, who holds her ground. “But you could always join us.”

Imogen presses her lips together, but the flush deepens. Maybe she’s more into me than she realises.

“Iris needs her afternoon meds,” she says finally, voice like honey. It’s even better than on the phone. “She needs quiet.”

“No, I do not,” the old lady huffs, appearing behind the nurse. She’s got her walker and sun hat on, though she looks like she’s still dressed in her pyjamas. “Anyway, I don’t want that damn chicken meal. Let’s go get real food. Break me out of here, baby.”

I chuckle, glancing down at Imogen again. “She’ll just go on her own, and you know it,” I murmur. “So, why not come with us? Make sure she gets her meds. And I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

The nurse chews the inside of her cheek as she considers it.

Those dark eyes don’t leave mine, and although I should feel a little intimidated by her—clearly, she respects her work and Iris—I can’t help but feel a little turned on by her.

Could be the scrubs, which might be baggy and not so flattering, but she makes them work.

Or it could be because she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

After a long moment, she sighs. “Alright, Miss Iris,” she says, turning to the old lady.

I can’t help but feel a little disappointed she doesn’t say anything to me.

“Before we go, I have to make sure you’re warm enough.

Like you said: it’s getting colder. We have to make sure you don’t catch anything. ”

Iris waves a hand, but there’s a grin on her lips that’s hard to ignore. Knowing I can bring her a little joy like a breakout is enough for me.

But hey, meeting her new nurse is fun, too.

“You glaring at us is getting old,” I say, pointing my knife at Iris. “Leave it alone.”

Imogen, sitting in her scrubs beside her, watches us with confusion. “She’s not doing anything. Have you had your eyes checked lately?”

I snort, though that has Iris smiling again. “The old wench is plotting.”

Nurse Imogen goes to say something, but Iris waves her hand. “He’s not wrong,” she laughs. “I may be plotting something.”

“Well,” Imogen says, “leave me out of it.”

I snort, though my stomach clenches when I glance back at Iris. She has that look about her that screams trouble . Legend has it, she caused quite a bit of it in her early days at the bar. Especially during her stint as the town’s very own Cupid .

Now, I don’t know much about it, because everyone I’ve asked shuts up immediately. Sure, there are some who like to share how Iris meddled in their relationships, but no one will admit how .

Granted, I’m not sure how many people want to admit to having their relationships decided by the bartender down the road. Definitely not Easton and Rebecca Wiley, my older brother Walter’s best friend, who I know had Iris’s meddling fingers in their love life.

“I want to ask you both to do something for me,” she announces, putting her spoon down, pasta left untouched. I lower my knife to my nearly empty plate, as does Imogen, her salad all but forgotten.

The nurse narrows her eyes. “Is there something wrong?” she asks, crossing her arms above the table. “Are you feeling alright?”

I roll my eyes when Iris nods. “Oh, I’m fine, dear,” she says, pressing her hands together. They tremble slightly, though she doesn’t seem to notice. “This is something I don’t want to entrust to just anyone.”

“Okay.” I lean back, crossing my arms. “What is it?”

Iris shoots me an unimpressed look, one that tells me not to ruin her moment. I’m used to it, but nurse Imogen looks confused—and maybe a little bit too worried.

“I want you—both of you, no bowing out—to plan my funeral.” Iris entwines her fingers, plants her elbows on the table, and looks at the both of us with this sweet, mischievous look as she rests her chin on her hands. “It’s my only wish.”

I can’t read the look in Imogen’s eyes, but I can tell she’s not fond of the idea. “Well, Iris, I don’t know—” she starts, but is quickly cut off.

“It’s the only thing I ask of you,” Iris replies, lips pursing. She eyes down the new nurse with a look most locals know to avoid.

Nurse Imogen looks between Iris and me, her brows furrowing. Somehow, she settles her irritation on me. I won’t lie, she’s pretty cute when she’s annoyed. There’s a little scrunch to her nose, and the flush of her cheeks darkens.

“Don’t you have anything to say about this?” she asks, leaning back.

I offer her a half smile. “Nope. I know my place.”

Iris grunts, dropping her hands to the table. “That he does.” Her eyes flicker over the restaurant before landing on a group of women towards the back. “I’ll be right back,” she says, pushing her chair out slowly. “Someone I need to see.”

Imogen also tries to push her chair out, the good nurse she is, but Iris waves her hand as she grabs hold of her walker.

“No need, I’m still in your line of sight.

I ain’t going anywhere. Just want to check in with some friends.

Give you two some time to start planning.

” Before she walks away, she taps me on the shoulder.

“Tell her about the ranch. I’ve always loved it there. ”

My throat tightens at that. But I don’t say anything until she’s out of earshot, keeping her in the corner of my eye until she makes it to the table. But when I turn back to the nurse, she shakes her head.

“Is she always like that?” Imogen asks, grabbing her purse. I watch, smiling as she pulls a plastic dish from the bag.

“You were ready for this?” I nod to the container, which she sets on the table. Imogen doesn’t respond right away, grabbing Iris’s plate and scraping the leftover pasta into the dish.

“Oh, come on.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “I’m not that bad company.”

The look she gives me says anything but. And yet, she keeps her lips pressed shut until she finishes putting the leftovers away.

“Her appetite is going,” Imogen says finally. “I didn’t want this outing to be a total waste, especially because she isn’t into anything at home.”

For all the complaining Iris did about having a new, younger nurse, this one seems to know what she’s doing. At least she appears to be good at listening to what the others tell her. Because this probably isn’t something she picked up after only a few hours with Iris.

“What?” Imogen snaps. Her dark eyes flicker to mine before going back to the food, which she quickly shoves into her bag.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Nothing. You know, she called me when she found out her usual nurse was being replaced.”

“Josie.” Nurse Imogen nods. “Maternity leave.”

“Yeah.” I glance over my shoulder at the table Iris moved to. “She’s over there with her friends.”

Imogen looks over at the table, curious more than anything. “Oh.”

“But I guess that’s the last thing we should be talking about,” I say.

“You know, since we have a funeral to plan. But make note of those ladies. They’ll need to be there.

Iris has had her hands in all of their lives since they were young.

And she might have changed public opinion on all of their exes. ”

Nurse Imogen raises a brow, now even more curious.

“I’m not saying I’ll help you plan a funeral,” she replies, grabbing her fork.

Her salad, which she’d forgotten before, now seems more important than our conversation.

She drops my stare to her plate, stabbing her fork into the lettuce. “But why does she want us to do it?”

“She doesn’t have any family,” I start, which has her looking at me again, sadness pooling in her dark eyes. “Well, the whole town is her family. But blood? She’s got none of that.”

And if she does, she hasn’t said anything to anyone in years.

If she had a husband, no one knows, not even the other elderly locals who remember when Iris took over Daisy’sfrom the last owner.

And if there were children, they never came for her, not when she got her diagnosis, not when she went into the care home, and they certainly aren’t here now looking after her.

Imogen glances down at her salad silently, like she’s considering what I’ve said carefully. And for some reason, I’m completely enamoured by her. I like watching her. It’s a strange feeling, one I’m not sure I feel comfortable with.

She’s just Iris’s nurse , I tell myself. And I tell myself that again and again while she slowly eats her salad, eyes shifting to the table Iris joined. I can’t help but quietly observe Imogen like a total creep.

If Casper were here, that’s exactly what he’d call me. A creep. Maybe a perv for staring for too long. And he’d probably be right.

Because it’s totally inappropriate looking at her the way I am, knowing she’s Iris’s nurse. She’s a newbie in town, too, which means she could just up and leave at any moment like a lot do. She could just be here for Josie’s maternity leave, planning to disappear after she returns.

It’s not a good idea to get tangled with Imogen, especially with Iris trying to influence it.

I clear my throat and look away. “If you don’t want to help, that’s fine. But it’s the least I can do for Iris. Just be prepared to see me—a lot.”

Imogen sighs, setting down her fork. “Fine.”

I glance up, meeting her dark stare. “Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll help,” she says. “By the sounds of it, she deserves something great to celebrate her end of life. And it also sounds like she wants it to be your ranch where she does it.”

I chuckle lightly under my breath. “Yeah. The ranch is…something.”

Imogen’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Maybe for the first time ever, I feel a little exposed. It takes a lot to unsettle me, but under her gaze, I don’t feel nearly as confident in myself as I normally do.

She’s just the nurse , I remind myself again.

I hear the walker before I see Iris. She comes up beside me and lightly punches my shoulder. “So, got anything yet?” she asks, hobbling back to the seat she abandoned. “I let the girls know there’s gonna be a party.”

I snort, heart twisting. “You know, being morbid like that won’t help,” I tell her.

“You’re just delaying the inevitable.” Iris takes a seat, groaning. “You know, I thought I’d at least get to watch one of you Sterling boys get married before I die.”

I shift uncomfortably, eyes darting to Imogen who watches me. “What about Foster?” I ask, pointing a finger at her. “That’s coming up.”

Iris waves a hand. “Yeah, but I might not make it that long.”

I open my mouth to say something, but Imogen beats me to it. She takes one of Iris’s hands, cupping her weathered fingers between her own. “Don’t say that,” Imogen murmurs. “Maybe they’re total pains in the asses like this one.” She smiles sweetly, but damn.

I don’t think I’m a pain in the ass.

Iris doesn’t even give me a chance to defend myself. Instead, she barks a surprised laugh. “I knew I liked you,” she says, grinning widely. “Oh, dear. Well, some of them aren’t. You know, there’s six of them.”

“Really?” Imogen raises a surprised brow, barely glancing at me. “Their poor Mother.”

It’s like I’m totally forgotten now. I cross my arms and watch them both, but I don’t feel weird or defensive. Just…light.

“She’s a saint,” Iris replies, resting her chin on her hand, sighing tiredly. “Their father—I watched him grow up, you know. Knew his daddy. I’m proud of the man he is now. Not the father. His old man.” She waves a hand at me, like she’s suddenly remembered I’m here.

“Sounds like you have a special place in your heart for them,” Imogen says softly. “And the ranch.”

“Oh, yes.” Iris sighs again. “I think I’m ready to go home now.”

My heart aches for Iris now more than ever. I don’t think many people realise just how lonely she must be. When she ran the bar, she’d been the centre of the town, living amongst everyone. Now, she’s in a place she doesn’t really see as her own.

It gives me a little more of a push to give her exactly what she wants.

And somehow, I have to convince her nurse to play along with it, too.

Maybe I’ll be able to give Iris a Sterling wedding after all.