Page 3 of The Cowboy of the Mountain

There it is. A square box the size of a plate. Styrofoam. Placed on the polished wood bar inside the Whispering Winds Inn. It might look like an ordinary to-go box—the kind you’d see in any restaurant—but this one is special and worth more than its weight in gold because of what’s nestled inside. Four squares of Mom’s blackberry cobbler.

“How’d you do it?” Erik, the bartender asks me.

I glance up slowly at him. “I made a trade.”

“A trade?” he asks, polishing the same glass he’s been polishing for the past five minutes. He leans down low and in a hushed tone, asks, “N-not your soul, right?”

I shake my head, smiling as I stretch my arm along the wooden back of the empty bar stool next to me. Mom’s known to have a wild streak. I’ve heard tales of her youth, but I’m sure they’re nothing but local myths. Most of them started by her, I’d bet. She likes the mystery surrounding her. Encourages it.

No, I’ve been in Whispering Winds long enough to know the only thing devilish about Mom is her blackberry cobbler. It tastes so good it’s sinful, and the things people will do for one taste… Well, let’s just say I’ve seen the darker side of humanity.

“Soul’s intact. But she’s a devil of a businesswoman, I’ll give her that.”

Erik smiles, pulling back as he does his best to turn that glass back into sand.

“Fortunately, Lizzy had a portion squirreled away, so I had a little more leverage to renegotiate terms. Free eggs and blackberries for the next month, rather than six.”

Erik clicks his tongue. “Worth it though, right? I’ve only had a taste.” His eyes go a little hazy as he continues polishing the empty glass. I could probably reach out and grab the glass and he’d be polishing air none the wiser.

“Nothing better.” Except for the look on Luke’s face when he sees it tomorrow morning. My voice pulls Erik out of his reverie and his gaze settles on the box in front of us.

“Say, Wyatt…” He says in a low whisper, eyes still focused on the box.

The chair moans as my fingers dig into the wood.

“How—”

“About I get a whisky,” I growl, interrupting his train of thought and snapping him out of his daze.

He swallows, backing away as I grab the container of cobbler and set it on the chair next to me.

“Right away.”

I breathe a sigh of relief as the surge of protectiveness recedes. That’s for my boy. And there’s not a damn thing that will take it away.

I ease back into the chair, glancing around the bar. It’s been a long time since I’ve been inside the Inn. An even longer time since I’ve been inside its bar. Any bar for that matter. Gone are the days of hangovers and staying out late. Stumbling home at odd hours. Then again it never was part of my life for long. Once Luke was on the scene, everything changed. For the better.

That kid makes me a better man, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

“Anything else I can get you?” Erik asks as he slides the whisky in front of me.

I shake my head.

Erik nods and then slips away to the other end of the bar. I sip my drink as I scroll through some of the photos Reid sent me of Luke today. I’d been so busy catching up with work that I haven’t had a moment to look at them until now.

Luke splitting wood. Luke on top of a boulder. Luke wrestling a bear.

If I hadn’t already swallowed, my first sip of alcohol in years would be all over the bar as I do a double-take. I leave my son alone with my brother for a day and… Phew. I breathe a sigh of relief as I zoom in. Oreo—Daisy’s dog. I swear that dog doubles in size every time I see him.

My phone buzzes as I take another sip and sink into the chair. I check the message, hoping for another update with Luke but instead find a text from Damon. I’ve known him since he moved to Whispering Winds during high school. We clicked and have been inseparable since. He might’ve moved deeper into the mountains, but I see him nearly every week.

Damon: I think I found you a nanny.

Wyatt: Yeah?

I thought I’d turned over this town in search of a nanny. I’m surprised that Damon has someone up his sleeve given that he spends most of his time in the mountains or on construction sites.

I’m intrigued. I’m still intrigued five minutes later when I haven’t heard a response and my drink is finished. Cell reception is spotty up there and sometimes I get a massive string of texts at once.

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