Page 13 of Roaring Fork Wrangler

“It was.”

When she smiled, I was damn glad I’d paid attention in history class.

“Anyway, the campus still exists, but it will never thrive the way it did when he was alive. You still see his influence throughout the village, though.”

“What else?”

“It’s the home of a successful toy-making company, but manufacturing was moved out of East Aurora decades ago.”

“Anything else?”

“Millard Fillmore had a home here.” She looked out a window. “There are a lot of villages like this one in New York, but few are still flourishing in the same way.”

“What about the Lilacs?”

She sat up straighter, and her eyes sparkled. “The history of the estate isfascinating. Miss Cena’s life in particular, but I might be biased.” She shook her head. “As my brother said, I can be pretty nerdy, so be careful when you ask questions because I might go overboard with my answers.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say I loved hearing her talk, that the sound of her voice intrigued and captivated me, but I stopped myself.

“Is that June-bug?” said a guy wearing a cop’s uniform as he approached our table from behind her.

“Hey, Pete,” she responded, glancing over her shoulder.

“Who’s this?” he asked, bending down to kiss her cheek.

“Cord Wheaton, meet Pete Chance, my uncle.”

I stood to shake the man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure, sir.”

“Likewise. What brings you to town?”

I chuckled. Like I’d told Juniper earlier, this place was just like Crested Butte. Everyone knew who belonged, as well as those who didn’t. “A job.”

“At the Lilacs,” Juniper added.

“Oh yeah? Workin’ with Schultz?”

“That isn’t who hired me, but if you’re talking about Hoss, I’m supposed to check in with him tomorrow morning.”

He raised a brow.

“What do you know about the guy?” I asked, quickly learning the man wasn’t well-liked and deciding to take the bull by the horns,as they say.

He glanced around the room. “Where are you staying?”

“At the inn tonight. Not sure about tomorrow.”

He nodded, then looked at his niece. “Juni, give Cord my number, and we’ll chat later,” he suggested.

“Appreciated,” I said, taking a seat when he left.

“Pete’s a good guy. Whatever he tells you is worth listening to.”

I sensed it just from the brief conversation. “Gotcha.”

The waitress brought our coffee and food at the same time, which Juniper appeared to notice but didn’t comment on. It was yet another thing I liked about her.

Like the burger the night before, breakfast was so good I thought about ordering seconds.

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