Page 8 of Barbed Wire Hearts

Illinois comes and goes without incident. Iowa is even more a blip of flat land and cornfields though the motel I stay in there is clean. It’s the first time I trust sleeping in the bedding. The old woman up front smiles and tells me her life story about how her and her husband have been running the motel for decades and how he wanted her to keep going when he died. The motel is well taken care of and even comes with breakfast the next morning. It’s the best damn breakfast I’ve had in a while. I’m almost sad to see it go, but something tells me Iowa isn’t where I’m meant to stop.

Nebraska is beautiful when we arrive, and the scenery is a delight. William enjoys his walks far more when there’s so much to see, but we don’t linger for too long at each stop. I wish I wasn’t trying so hard to remain anonymous. I’d be taking pictures of William and I at each state sign if I wasn’t worried that could somehow be tracked. If I wasn’t being chased by a literal mafia, I might have enjoyed this road trip. It’s been so long since I’ve done something like this, I’m enjoying myself despite the danger behind me. As it is, I can’t help but look behind me at every stop or being suspicious of every person I come into contact with. I trust no one.

When the state sign for Wyoming comes and goes and the mountains rise in the distance, I suck in a breath at the beauty of it. The mountains are beautiful even from so far away. I know they’ll only get better as we approach them.

“Oh, wow! Look at that, William,” I tell him where he sits on the dash. He’s currently sleeping, but he cracks open an eye at his name.

The mountains in the distance are still far away, but as I drive and they rise higher and higher into the sky, I can’t help but be awed by them. New Jersey is a long way behind us now, and we’re faced with this beauty instead. Six states between here and there might be enough, right?

I drive into a small town right off the highway, the charm of it making me catch my breath. Everything is clean and well-kept here. A sign welcoming me to the city of Steele is painted with cows and horses and everything I’ve always associated with cowboys. There’s something about the small town that calls to me, and I find myself pulling into one of the parking spots in front of a small coffee shop. Above the city, the mountains rise like a sleeping giant. Snow dusts their points at the top, but the air is warm in town. I don’t know what the weather’s like, but for mid-spring, it’s pleasant.

“Look how beautiful, William,” I say, reaching across to clip his leash on. “Come on. Let’s check things out.”

We climb from my little car and breathe in the fresh air. It feels clean and light, unlike the polluted haze in New Jersey. This is what I’ve been missing. This is what I need.

For once, I don’t think about how it looks for a woman dressed in black with a blue streak in her hair and a cat on a leash as I absorb the sights. This feels. . . right.

I just hope it stays that way.

ChapterSeven

Kate

The small town of Steele is cute. City life is fast and harsh, but here, everything feels warm, inviting, and relaxed. The main street I’m on right now is well-maintained, and while it’s not a large town, the shops and markets clearly see love from travelers. I’m not the only one meandering around, many groups of people strolling along the street to take in the small antique shops and unique shopping.

I turn us toward the small coffee shop I’m parked in front of. The name on the door says, “Ugly Mug Coffee” in bright painted letters, and through the glass, I can see a woman bustling around behind a counter. There’s no sign on the window saying no pets, so I pop open the door and peek my head in.

“Excuse me,” I call, and the woman turns around. “Would it be okay if my cat comes in with me? He’s on a leash and very well trained.”

The woman blinks in surprise and peers down at William where he sits at my side. “Well, would you look at that!” she exclaims, coming around the counter. “I ain’t ever seen something like that! Of course you can come in, but under one condition.”

I pause as I open the door. “What’s that?”

“I get to pet him,” she answers with a grin. She comes over and kneels down when I step inside, and William immediately comes up to say hello. “I have three kitties at home,” she explains. “I just adore the sweetlings. I’m working with a rescue to foster two more but shhh, don’t tell my neighbor. He already complains.”

As she stands, she winks conspiratorially at me, and I can’t help but like the woman immediately.

“Your secret is safe with me,” I promise, looking around. “This place is adorable.”

The inside of the coffee shop is equally as cute as the outside. The name suddenly makes sense when I see all the seemingly handmade mugs sitting behind the counter and on shelves along the walls. Some of them are as ugly as the name implies, but some of them are impressive.

“I partner with Mary Carter over at the ceramic center,” she offers as explanation when she realizes what I’m looking at. “The kids can go in and make a mug and then they have the option to take it home, display it here, or have it glazed and go into rotation.” She gestures to the ones behind the counter. “We serve in house coffee in the mugs Mary makes, but every now and then, one of the kids adds theirs in.” She picks up one with a grumpy face sculpted into it. “This is my favorite. The hubby made it for me as a joke.”

My heart melts. Holy shit. There’s nothing like this back home. “That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard,” I say, pressing my hand to my chest. “All you need is some cats in here. Cat cafés are all the rage back in. . . well, where I’m from. Then you could foster as many kitties as you’d like, neighbor approved or not.”

I realize I should probably be careful with how much information I actually give out when I’m trying to stay anonymous. I like this place, but I still need to be mindful of what I say. I can’t trust anyone, no matter how wholesome they seem.

She tilts her head. “That must be a city thing,” she muses. “I’d love to do that but unfortunately, I’m not sure how well that would do here. Most people don’t seem to mind cats, but there are plenty of dog people around here who’d look at a cat and tip their noses up.”

I smile. “I think you’d be wonderful at it. I’m Kate by the way.” I don’t offer a last name on purpose.

“I’m Georgia,” she replies. “Like the state. My Momma was from there and missed home so much she named me after it.” She moves back behind the counter. “What can I get you Kate and. . .”

“William Shakespurr,” I supply helpfully when she gestures toward the cat sniffing at the nearby counter.

Georgia claps her hands together and laughs. “The best name! What can I get you two? I have some cat treats in my purses if it’s okay for him to have some.”

“He would absolutely love that,” I reply with a smile. “As for me, some coffee. I could use something good.”

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