Page 11 of Roaring Fork Wrangler

When I came home from college after graduation, I figured living at home would only be temporary until I got a job related to one or both of my degrees. I’d had a few offers but turned them down because they were mostly on the West Coast. Someday, I might want to leave East Aurora, but right now, my parents needed my help at the Goat, especially on the weekend.

Or at least that’s the excuse I told myself. The truth was my life hadn’t turned out the way I thought it would. All the dreams I’d once had ended the summer between my junior and senior years of high school.

I shook my head, refusing to go down the rabbit hole of that memory. It was over and done, and I wasn’t that person any longer. The hardest part was I still hadn’t found anything else that excited me enough to build my life around.

That Grayson hadn’t gotten a place of his own when he graduated, either, made me feel less like a loser about it. I thought about asking if he wanted to share an apartment, but if I did that, I might as well stay at home since I’d have the same level of privacy.

I pulled the car out of the driveway, then onto Main Street. There weren’t many people out this early on a Sunday, so parking places were plentiful. When I saw a truck with Colorado plates, I parked right behind it on the street, then ran across to the diner.

“Hey, Juni,” said Mary Beth, a girl I’d gone to high school with.

“I’m, um, meeting someone.”

She motioned to the left, and I saw Cord walking toward me.

“Good morning,” he said. “I got us a table by the fireplace. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect.” I removed my hat and gloves, shoved them in my pocket, and was about to shrug out of my coat when Cord stepped behind me, helped me take it off, then hung it next to the barn jacket he was wearing last night.

He motioned for me to go ahead. The place was half empty, but the eyes of all those seated landed on Cord and me as we made our way to the table. Most murmured hello, but didn’t say anything.

Cord got my chair and, as I went to take my seat, leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “Everyone in here knows you, don’t they?”

“How could you tell?”

He sat down before responding. “There’s a place in my hometown just like this one. It’s called McGill’s, and if you and I walked in together, news would spread before we were finished eating that I was with someone they didn’t recognize, and everyone would be scrambling to find out who you were.”

I laughed. “Must be as small as East Aurora.”

“Smaller.” Cord picked up the menu. “What’s good here?” he asked.

“Everything, but my favorite is the Italian French toast.”

He raised a brow.

“French toast made with Italian bread,” I explained.

“How’s their bacon?”

I laughed. “At least as good as the inn’s. Maybebetter.”

He set his menu down. “I don’t know if that’s possible. That burger, last night, was so good I thought about ordering a second.”

“You should’ve asked. I would’ve made you another one.”

He rested his elbows on the table. “Did you make the first one?”

“I did.”

“That explains why it was so good.”

I felt my cheeks flush, and I lowered my eyes to the menu I knew by heart.

“Juniper?”

I raised my gaze and met his. “Yeah?”

“It makes me crazy when you do that.”

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