Page 29 of A Cowboy in the Streets

On the other hand, I was new in town, and while I didn’t mind spending time alone, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was lonely. For me, good girlfriends were crucial to good mental health. Hannah’s sewing circle was an opportunity to make some friends.

Anyway, I had a whole list of chores to do, too. Thanks to the seventeen-hour drive from California to Colorado, my SUV needed an oil change and a wash. I had a larger-than-normal pile of laundry to do, groceries to pick up, and it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek at the shops on Main Street and maybe find something to cozy up my cabin a bit.

On the long dirt lane that ran from the big house to county road, I saw Adam out in the cow pasture on horseback and I couldn’t help it, I eased my foot off the gas so I could watch as my SUV rolled by at two miles per hour. The chestnut gelding must be a young one, because it was clear he didn’t quite have the hang of his job yet.

But Adam sure did.

My god, the man was magnificent on a horse. Calm and steady, all the power of his muscled form never veering into brutality. He was in control of himself and the animal every single second. This was a man who loved his work and did it damned well.

And then—a breakthrough. The chestnut headed off a cow that broke from the herd. A grin flashed across Adam’s face, there and gone again, like the sun peeking through a storm cloud. Even from a distance, it hit me like a lightning strike.

Jesus.

I clamped my thighs together and hit the gas. One thing I would not be doing this weekend was wasting time lusting after my boss.

“You came.” There was a note of eager surprise in Hannah’s voice that made me think I wasn’t the only one who needed girlfriends.

Chloe followed in my shadow as best she could, considering she had a solid five inches on me. She wasn’t completely sold on either the sewing circle or Hannah and regarded anything that happened before noon on a weekend with deep suspicion. But she was here anyway because I wanted to come. That boded well for our friendship.

My bribe of brunch and mimosas after probably didn’t hurt, either.

“I know I called it a sewing circle, but it’s really more of a sewing line,” Hannah said, indicating the row of brilliantly patterned Turkish floor pillows lined neatly against the wall opposite the door. “We use this room for yoga, too, so it doesn’t have any tables. I thought it would be better to have some back support.”

“Is it just us?” Chloe asked, eyeing the five pillows suspiciously.

“A few others could show up,” Hannah hedged. She grabbed each of us by an elbow and steered us across the room. “But let’s go ahead and get started. I created a sampler for each of you so you can learn the more common stitches. French knots, chain stitch, satin stitch, stem stitch. The best way to learn is by making something pretty, so I incorporated the different types of stitches into a flower garden.”

We settled onto the cushions and Hannah walked us through getting started. She showed us how to place the fabric in the bamboo hoop so it was tight as a drum, how to separate the thread into multiple strands, and how to thread the needle with a bit of scotch tape.

“We’ll start with the satin stitch because you’re going to use it a lot. It’s also super easy, but if you don’t pay attention, it can look like a hot mess in no time.”

Chloe and I didn’t say much as we concentrated on learning the stitches. Hannah was right. It was easy to catch on, but also easy to screw up.

“Where did you learn how to do this?” I asked. I didn’t know anyone who could sew.

“Oh, all the girls on the compound learned pretty young. It was part of our schooling. Sewing, cooking, and homemaking.” Hannah leaned in to get a better look at my stitches. “Make sure you place them right next to each other. Don’t be afraid to take it out and try again if it gets crooked.”

Chloe and I looked at each other. The compound? I mouthed.

“What did the boys learn?” Chloe asked.

“Math and Bible study.”

“Ew,” Chloe said. “Tell me more about that.”

I nudged her with my elbow. “Rude,” I hissed.

Hannah’s lips quirked up. “It is pretty ew. Someday I’ll tell you more about it, okay? A little bit at a time. I don’t like to focus on it. If I think on it too much, I get…” She jabbed her needle through the fabric hard enough that I could swear I heard the ping.

“Stabby?” I suggested.

Her lips tilted in amusement. “I was going to say annoyed.”

Chloe nodded and turned her attention back to her own hoop of fabric. “Do you know what annoys James?” she asked conversationally, like the mousy town librarian hadn’t just confessed she had been raised in a religious cult. “Her smoking hot boss.”

I gasped. “Chloe!”

“It’s called a segue, James.”

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