The driver got into the car, and I pulled open the back door. I had one leg in when it happened. When my world spun. “Valerie!” My stomach fluttered almost as fast as my heart. I turned to see my dark cowboy heading up the hill to me, on his horse, his body moving with his steed. From his dirty boots, blue jeans, black shirt, flannel, to that damn cowboy hat—he was a vision. I knew in that moment that Denver Langston would haunt me for the rest of my days.
