Page 1 of Rodeo Cowboy
PROLOGUE
WILMA AND FAYE
(The Quilt Queens)
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“SAMMY WILDE IS MARRIED!” Rita Mac, deputy mayor, holds up her southern lemonade-a concoction of water, lemonade, and whiskey-in a celebratory cheer.
The air is charged with excitement, and the townspeople explode into a collective mix of confusion and drunken approval. After all, the clock hands are inching closer to the stroke of midnight, and the people of Whiskey Ridge Creek are sloshed from celebrating New Year’s Eve since early afternoon.
Questions erupt as the throngs of people surge closer to the stage.
“Congrats Sammy!”
“What’s your sweetheart’s name?”
“Are you having a reception in town?”
“What day is the reception? We’ll have to save the date.”
Not everyone is as invested in the news.
“Sammy Wilde married without our permission?” Wilma Quylt’s cowboy boots slam onto the wooden floor rumbling like thunder. “Well, I never.”
She takes two steps, no doubt, to kick the rodeo cowboy champion straight in the rear end.
Her sister, Faye, leaps to her sparkly-heeled shoes. They’re as festively decorated as the silver and gold shimmering Kentucky derby hat on her head.
Faye steps in front of Wilma. “You can’t be giving him an ass whoppin’ in front of his new bride. What would she think of us?” Faye fans her face.
The Quylt sisters wouldn’t dare ruin the Quilt Queen’s stellar reputation of weaving love quilts for those destined to be together. Whiskey Ridge Creek’s local folklore is known for miles around. It’s also as common as it was hundreds of years ago for parents and family members to gather scraps of material from their children and hand them over to the current Quilt Queens: Wilma and Faye. These sentimental scraps include detailed hand-written notes with meanings behind each scrap, which assist with the matchmaking process.
Marrying before a Quylt sister has woven your quilt is unacceptable.
Wilma’s nose twitches as she inhales deeply. “What do you suppose our tactic be?”
Members of the quilting circle huddle around. Nessie straightens her big red-rimmed glasses. Albion’s weathered fingers gently trace the contours of his long grey beard. Phylicia’s nimble fingers tuck springs of coiled grey hair behind her ears revealing gold hoop earrings.
“We need some brain superfood.” Constance Finn offers a bowl filled with the quinoa bites she brings to all quilting events.
The spry quilter in her sixties is adamant that the quinoa bites fuel creativity while delivering vitamins and minerals to the brain. It’s hard to take the woman seriously with her playful appearance: cat-eye rhinestone glasses and silver-colored puff buns similar to Princess Leila’s iconic hairstyle. Still, everyone takes a small ball filled with peanut butter, maple syrup, and chocolate chips and munches deep in thought.
Faye beams a wide smile before swallowing. “We get the new bride alone and feel the energy that emanates from her.”
Wilma snaps her fingers. “That’s an excellent plan. Then we pair them side by side and wait for the glow.”
The sisters are known for sticking their noses where they don’t belong, but with good intensions. They’d always shared a unique gift that went beyond ordinary senses. They can’t explain it, but when they feel a specific energy, they know two people are meant to be together.
They turn back to the stage as Silver climbs the stairs. He strides straight to Sammy and punches his brother in the nose.
