Page 7 of Second Chance With a Cowboy

She stamped and occasionally swished her tail as if in response. The horse was a good listener. And a good friend.

She’d been a colt when he’d gotten her from a neighboring ranch a decade ago. Her mother, a sweet mare, had died in childbirth and the rancher, a good friend of Duke’s, had sold the foal to Chevy for a song, knowing the teenager was going to have to bottle feed her for the first three months of her life.

Duke liked to say that Chevy had saved the foal’s life, but he knew the truth. The colt had saved him. He’d been heartbroken and depressed that summer, but caring for the baby horse, bottle-feeding it every three or four hours, weighing it, trackingits growth and progress, kept him distracted and his mind off constantly thinking about the girl he’d pushed away.

Leni Gibbs had meant everything to him, and he’d loved her with everything he had. But he knew then, just like he knew now, he wasn’t the guy anyone stuck around for. Not his dad. Not even his own mother. Leni was too smart, too driven. She had big dreams, and he knew if she stayed in Woodland Hills, for him, she’d either resent him later or eventually leave him anyway.

It was easier…no, noteasier…butbetterthe way he’d done it. She might not ever forgive him, but he would know, in his heart, that he’d done the right thing. For her.

If you love something, let it go…and all that crap. Still hurt though.

He pulled the brush down the horse’s chestnut brown neck, trying to push aside the memories of that summer.

Finished with her grooming, he filled the horse’s trough with fresh hay and let her nibble a couple of sugar cubes from his palm, before closing her stall door and giving her ears one last scratch.

He whistled for the dog then called over his shoulder to the horse as he left the barn, “Good night, Jolene.”

Chapter Four

Leni juggled two gallon cartons of coffee and a box of pastries as she traversed the steps leading into the basement of the Presbyterian Church. It had been three days since she’d seen Chevy—and about threeminutessince she’d last thought about him.

He hadn’t been back into the coffee shop or tried to reach out to her. Although, why would he after the way she’d kicked him out the last time he’d been there?

She should have been too busy to think about him. She’d been putting in long hours at Mountain Brew and helping her sister with the kids. Isabel had been up four times the night before, and the lack of sleep was getting to all of them.

But the whole reason she’d come back to Woodland Hills was to help her sister in her time of need. So, she’d gotten up early to take care of Izzy and get Max ready and given her sister a few extra hours to sleep before she’d left for work.

They’d been trying to hire another barista, but the application pool had been thin so far. Leni knew if the shop were taken care of, it would allow her sister to worry less and be able to just focus on Max and Izzy. Which was why she’d been trying to branch out the shop’s take-out services and making thisdelivery herself. She hoped the word would spread and more people would order coffee and pastries for their meetings and get-togethers.

This delivery was for the women ofKnitty Gritty—a knitting circle that had been meeting in the church basement for as long as Leni could remember.

Walking down the stairs, she was overwhelmed with memories of spending so much time here as a kid. This had been the church she and her mom and Lorna had come to since they’d moved to Woodland Hills when she was twelve. She’d been surprised at the way they’d embraced a single mom with two young daughters, and this basement had been where she’d first met Chevy and his brothers. She remembered sitting next to the tall, skinny kid with the lock of dark hair—so different from his blond brothers—that always seemed to be falling into his eyes. She inhaled as she stepped into the room. It still smelled the same—old wood, dusty hymnals, worn carpet, and the lingering scents of past potlucks.

This is why she had avoided coming back to Woodland Hills. Everywhere she turned was a memory of the boy who had broken her heart.

Three round tables had been set up in the center of the room, piles of yarn and knitting bags with needles sticking out of their tops covered the middle of each. Sounds of laughter filled the room, and Leni was surprised that the number of women in the group had grown instead of dwindled and that there were quite a few younger women in the group as well.

She’d heard knitting was good for stress. Maybe she’d have to look into it.

Yeah, because she didn’t already have enough on her plate. She should for sure take up a needlework craft.

She recognized several of the older women sitting together at a large table near the kitchen. Ruby Foster, Greta Newton,and Mabel Turner were all in their eighties and pillars of their small-town community. The woman had been best friends most of their lives, along with Chevy’s grandmother, June, who had passed away several years before.

Grr.Now she was thinking about Chevyagain. She couldn’t even deliver coffee to a bunch of old ladies without somehow connecting her thoughts back to that man.

“Hi Miss Ruby,” Leni said, pushing away the memories of the cute cowboy as she held up the cartons of coffee. “Where do you want these?”

“Well, I’ll be,” Ruby said, getting up from the table and coming around to hug her, which wasn’t an easy feat considering she was holding two gallons of coffee and a box of baked goods. “Eleanor Gibbs, how good to see you. I heard you were back in town. How’s Lorna doing?”

“Notback,” she corrected. “Just here for a few weeks to help my sister. And she and the baby are doing great.”

“You tell her we’re all itching to cuddle that sweet baby, and we’ve got the nursery ready for Isabel when Lorna’s feeling up to coming back to church,” Greta said, her hands busy weaving yarn around two long knitting needles.

“You’re welcome to come with her,” Mabel added. “Whenever you like.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. For now, I’d better just get this coffee set up for you all and get back to the shop.”

“You can take it into the kitchen,” Ruby told her. “We’ve got some trays already set up in there.”

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