Page 10 of Against All Odds

“Hi.” Juno was a ball of charming energy, and I knew no one could resist her. Maybe using your child to impress a lady was a bit devious, but I had to take every advantage possible. Those were the rules!

As predicted, Sable’s eyes softened. “Juno, how nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Juno gave them her practiced polite smile and then added, “I like your earrings.” She was looking at Sable now, who smiled for real this time.

“Thank you.” Sable touched the small silver hoops. “I love your jacket. It’s bold and unique.”

My daughter had a knack for unique fashion choices, and her jacket was no exception—a vibrant patchwork of bright wool squares, each stitched together with intricate embroidery that looked like it belonged in a bohemian art gallery rather than a closet.

Juno grinned, running her fingers over one of the patches. “I got this when Daddy and I went to the pueblo at Mesa Verde a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, I know that place,” Hillary chimed. “You went to that little artist market there?”

“Yes.” Juno beamed. “We had such a good time, didn’t we, Daddy?”

I chuckled. “I don’t know about that. You harassed that poor artist to explain every single pattern on your coat before you even tried it on.”

“Yeah, because it’s amazing.” She spun so the jacket flared out. She leaned conspiratorially close to Hillary and Sable, like she was telling them a secret. “The artist, Raven Moonflower, told me her family’s been weaving coats like this forever and that nature inspires these designs. See this one?” She pointed to a bright orange patch with deep red stitching. “It’s supposed to represent the sun rising over the canyon.”

That was Juno. She wasn’t just a kid who wore daring outfits; she was a kid who needed to know the story behind them. It was her way of connecting to a larger world. And honestly, she made me feel lucky just to tag along for the ride.

We chit-chatted for a while when Juno asked Sable what she did.

“Well, I used to work with Hillary,” she informed us. “Now…well?—"

As Sable stumbled on her words, Hillary jumped in, her grin as big as ever. “Sable’s the new owner of The Wildflower Tavern.”

Juno perked up. “A tavern? Is that the one you like, Daddy?”

“Yeah.” Well, then, that was an interesting tidbit to pick up. Bambi was a bar owner. Yeah, I could see that fitting far better than working at a bank inanycapacity.

“Well, I hope you’ll continue to like it.” Sable brushed her hair back nervously.

“Are you making changes?” I asked.

Her eyes sparkled with energy, the same kind that I saw in Juno: raw, pure, indomitable.

“She has the best ideas,” Hillary gushed with pride.

“I’m excited. It’s a fresh start,” Sable murmured shyly.

Hillary nudged her again, her voice teasing. “Come on, Sable, where’s your sales pitch? The place looks amazing. You’ll have to check it out, Heath.”

“I’d like that.” I kept my eyes on Sable because I couldn’t look away. She met my gaze briefly, saw my interest, and flushed.

Before I could say more, a couple of locals—a pair of ski instructors who worked at the resort—passed by and stopped to greet me.

After a quick exchange of hellos, one of them quipped, “Don’t let the tourists bug you too much this weekend, Heath. They’re already clogging up the slopes.”

“Tourists keep the economy moving and the community thriving,” I shot back. “You’d miss them if they were gone.”

“Maybe. But not until June,” the guy laughed as they walked off.

When I turned back, Juno was deep in conversation with Sable about the tavern’s menu, Hillary was sipping her drink, and I was struck by how beautiful Sable was. And damn, I wanted to ask her out. It wasn’t like me to hesitate—I was usually upfront about what I wanted—but this wasn’t San Diego. If I got this wrong, it wouldn’t just be awkward. It’d be town gossip, the kind that could reach Juno.

But my daughter was a mature girl with a good head on her shoulders. If I did date someone and she found out, she’d be okay with it, though I’d endeavor for her not to know unless it was serious. And in all honesty, the way I was still raw after my divorce, it would be a while before I wasseriousabout a woman. However, that didn’t mean I was not going to take my shot when someone was pulling at me as hard as Bambi was.

“I’ll definitely have to check what you’re doing with the place. When are you taking over…officially?” I asked.

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