Page 3 of Home to the Cowboy

Settled at the foot of Copper Mountain, Marietta was like no other place she’d seen before. Since then, she hadn’t stopped thinking about the charming Main Street with its classic Western storefronts and the warm, friendly people she’d met while visiting.

Ever since she could remember, she’d lived with the feeling that everything around her was slightly wrong, that she didn’t quite fit in, no matter how hard she tried. During the few days she’d been in Marietta she’d never felt that way.

Her mind racing, she got up and paced her small apartment. She hadn’t taken leave from work in forever. Maybe she could go to Marietta for a month or two? See if what she remembered was actually true.

Marietta was small, life there was unhurried. Her life wouldn’t be as rushed as it was in the city, and maybe she’d finally have time to write the children’s story she’d been brooding about.

Becket had an idea for a new project. While she was in Marietta, there would be more than enough time to discuss it. Perhaps, she could also get in touch with Mitch Miller, one of the locals who was also an author. He and his wife, Riley, were among the many lovely people she’d met while she’d visited Marietta. She could try and convince him to have the publishing house she worked for publish his next book.

That might go a long way to convince her boss Barry that it wouldn’t be a problem if she was away for a month or two. Barry was in his seventies and not a fan of technology. Surely, though, even he knew that these days one could work from anywhere in the world.

Maybe she would have time to learn to knit or crochet. Becket’s wife Ellie owned a yarn shop in Marietta. It would be something to do at night. Oh, and there was also a library in town, if she remembered correctly. Also, wasn’t Ellie part of a book club? Excited, she took out her phone to make notes. She could perhaps buy her way into the club with a few new releases from the publishing house she worked for.

The only person she would miss would be Abby, her best friend. She and Abby Swanson had met and had become friends as little girls in the foster care system. They’d figured out together how to survive, learned to read a room, to size up everyone they met, and to never trust anyone besides each other.

The bond they’d formed under difficult circumstances way back then had only strengthened with the years. Abby, a Marie Kondo fanatic, made her living helping other people declutter and organize their spaces and lives. She worked for herself so maybe she could take a week or two to visit June in Marietta?

Excitement bubbling inside of her, she called Abby first. As usual, Abby listened without interrupting until June ran out of breath. “So, what do you think?”

“Haven’t you forgotten something?” Abby asked.

“What?”

“Jonathan?”

June sobered. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. It’s over.”

“That is good news, but what happened?”

“I found him in bed with another woman.”

It was quiet for a moment. “You seriously deserve so much better than that guy.”

June chuckled. “You never liked him.”

“There’s something out of sync about him. Are you okay?”

“I am. Whatever we had has been over for a while. The main emotion I had as I was leaving his apartment was one of relief.”

“So, when are you leaving for Marietta?”

“As soon as I can convince Barry to let me work from there and as soon as you agree to come and visit me. It’s a beautiful town, Abs, you’ll love it.”

“I’m swamped at the moment, but let’s see how long you’re staying there,” Abby said vaguely. “I assume you’re flying again like the previous time you went?”

“Probably, or … you know what? No, I’m going to make a road trip of this. I’m taking my 1976 red Camero on the road. It will be nice to have a car while I’m there.”

“June! You can’t do that. It’s a beautiful car, of course, but you’ve only ever used it in the city. Will it even be able to take you all the way to Montana?”

“Of course!” The growing plan gave June confidence. “I’ll let you know what Barry says.”

Chapter Two

End of May

“At some point you’re going to be way too big for me to take you along when I go out at night,” Dylan said as he put Daisy in his truck. “But okay, I think I can still sneak you into Grey’s Saloon. You’ll be a good girl, won’t you?”

Daisy licked his face, her body wriggling. She was now about two and a half months old and during the day she stayed with Isabella, the very friendly woman who cooked for all of them. Contrary to what he’d read about boxers, Daisy had already discovered her bark over the last few days, way sooner than was apparently the norm.