Page 25 of A Cowboy in the Streets

“Maybe he got it all out of his system yelling at me this morning,” I muttered.

Her eyes widened. “He yelled at you? What happened?”

I chewed my lip. If Chloe had been one of my girlfriends back home, I would have poured out the whole story. But we didn’t know each other yet. Not really. Realizing I had left her phone number behind, what with all the accidental lip-mashing, I had swung by the café last weekend and we had agreed to meet up today.

I didn’t want to kick off a fledgling friendship by talking shit about someone behind his back. I hadn’t been in Aspen Springs long, but I had taken note of the “Made in Colorado” and “Don’t California My Colorado” bumper stickers. I was an outsider here, unlike Adam. He might be a grump, but at least he wasn’t from California.

“It was nothing,” I said finally. “Just a rough day.”

“Hm.” Her eyes darted to where he stood at the counter, waiting for our food and drinks to be ready. “Things not going so well with your new boss? You mean you didn’t take one look at each other and fall right into each other’s arms? Oh, wait.” Overcome with her own joke, she laughed so hard she snorted.

“Stop that right now,” I hissed. “He’s coming back.”

“Hate to break it to you, but he already knows how y’all met. He was there for it.” She giggled. “Especially his mouth.”

“Stop talking,” I muttered frantically. Why did the one friend I had in this town have to be the same barista who had witnessed my humiliation? “Not another word.”

I jumped to my feet to open the door for him, since his hands were full, took the cardboard tray of drinks, and set it down on our table. After he set the food on the table, I handed his cup of coffee back to him. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He took a sip. “I’ll be back for you in thirty minutes.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Ladies.”

We watched him go because that ass wasn’t something to look away from.

Disgruntled, I poked my straw into my iced coffee with a little more force than necessary. “Damn it. Why’d he have to be all nice and gentlemanly? Now I definitely can’t bitch about him behind his back.”

Chloe snickered as she popped open her can of sparkling water. “That’s not a gentleman. That’s a cowboy. Completely different breed of animal.” She grinned at me. “You know what they say, a cowboy in the streets, a beast in the sheets.”

I nearly choked on my drink. “That’s not how the saying goes.”

“Well, it should be. Look at that man and tell me he couldn’t throw a woman around and make her enjoy it.” She let out a dreamy sigh. “Those thighs. Like tree trunks.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You cannot have a crush on my grumpy boss, Chloe. I will not allow it.” I growled when she laughed. “Ugh, he makes me want to stab something.”

“I like to stab things,” a soft, sweet voice said from behind us, making us both nearly jump out of our skins in shock.

“Jesus Christ, woman. You about gave me a heart attack.” Chloe pressed her hand to her chest, her eyes wide. “Who the hell are you?”

The woman frowned and pushed her glasses up on her nose. Her tidy bun of dark blonde hair and ankle-length prairie skirt gave her an old-fashioned vibe. She didn’t look like someone who enjoyed stabbing.

“You know who I am, Chloe. I’m Hannah Bell. The librarian?” When Chloe still looked baffled, Hannah shook her head. “I’ve come here nearly every day for the past three years. Usually I sit in that corner right there.” She had something sharp and shiny pinched between her thumb and forefinger, and she used it to jab the air in the direction of the cozy chair by the fireplace inside. It was a needle, I realized. A long blue thread dangled from it and disappeared into the heap of fabric in her lap.

“Oh,” Chloe said, looking doubtful. “Right. Of course.”

Hannah’s rueful expression suggested she didn’t believe Chloe’s epiphany for even a second. “It’s all right. I have a way of fading into the background.”

“I only moved here a week ago,” I offered. “I haven’t been to the library yet.”

Hannah scooched her chair closer to us. “I’m starting a sewing circle at the library. Saturday mornings at ten.” Her bright blue eyes were wide and hopeful behind her glasses. “Everyone is welcome. It’s going to be a lot of fun.”

Sewing wasn’t exactly my idea of fun. It required sitting still and the only time I liked to sit still was on horseback—technically, the horse was moving for both of us. But I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, either. Chloe and I shared a look.

“You get to stab things,” Hannah pushed. “It’s great for stress relief.”

“I don’t know how to sew,” Chloe said.

“That’s okay! I’m there to teach you. Look at this.” She held up the fabric in her lap to show us the embroidery. Bright, cheerful flowers formed a message between their petals: fuck the patriarchy. “It’s going to be a pillow.”

We burst out laughing.

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