Page 19 of Protective Cowboy

It was a joy to capture the flurry of activity as the house slowly came back to life after decades of neglect interspersed with botched restorations. With each click of her camera, Autumn felt her serenity returning. It had been a stressful week, and she felt bleary from several sleepless nights in a row.

As Winnie and Jason finished installing the porch railing, an unfamiliar white van pulled up in front of the house.

With a sinking heart, Autumn recognized the logo on the van’s side. It was the same Bozeman florist’s shop Phillip had always used to send her anniversary and birthday flowers.

Oh, no. Autumn’s fingers tightened around her camera.

“Is there an Autumn Snowberry-Garthe here?” the driver shouted, confirming her fears as he emerged from the van.

She’d dropped the “Garthe” from her last name after her divorce became final last month. But Phillip wouldn’t know or care about that.

Everyone working outside stopped what they were doing. They all looked at Autumn.

Anger made her jaw clench and heated her cheeks.

Bad enough that Phillip had spent the last four days sending unwanted flowers, chocolates, and even jewelry to the ranch. And bombarding her with dozens of texts, emails, and voicemail messages, until she finally blocked him.

Now, he’s trying to harass me at work, too?

She took a step back, shaking her head.

After his unexpected appearance at the festival last Saturday, Autumn had spent the rest of the day nervously watching for any sign of her ex’s presence.

On Sunday, he sent a large basket of chocolates and pastries to the ranch. Autumn didn’t discover it sitting on her mom and dad’s porch until she returned home late on Sunday night after the festival ended.

The basket bore a gift tag from Jenna’s Java, inscribed in Phillip’s handwriting. I’m sorry, babycakes. Won’t you please forgive me? All my love, Phillip.

Beneath his signature, he’d written his new cellphone number. Autumn had seen the New Jersey area code and felt sick to her stomach.

“I’ll spread the word in town, sweetie,” Mom had said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Phillip’s money won’t be any good here if he tries to send you something else.”

But the flowers and chocolate deliveries continued on Tuesday and Wednesday. Now, they all came from businesses in Livingston and Bozeman, so at least Phillip was having to work a lot harder to spend his money.

Autumn’s dread and rage grew with every passing day. Every night, she lay awake for hours as an endless parade of scenarios, each one worse than the next, marched through her brain.

What if Phillip dragged her back to family court? And what if the judge split custody? Or, even worse, granted him sole custody of Jayden because he had a better job with a higher salary?

After all, Montana was a no-fault divorce state, so his vile betrayal of his marriage vows wouldn’t count against him. And Autumn knew how smooth and charming Phillip could be when he wanted something. She was sure he could convince any judge that he was a remorseful husband trying to repair his broken family and spend time with his son.

And that just made her angrier.

Curbside, the driver was sliding open the van’s side door, revealing an extravagant pink-and-purple bouquet of roses, lilies, irises, and other flowers Autumn couldn’t identify at this distance.

“Fuck,” she muttered.

Even worse, the TV cameras on the porch were now focused on her. There was no way that the production crew would pass up filming an incident like this.

Great. Now, “Autumn and her ex” are going to become a dramatic sub-plot on Reviving Snowberry Springs, Season Two. Autumn’s stomach clenched.

“Fuck is right,” Winnie said angrily. She rose to her feet, holding her cordless electric screwdriver like a pistol.

“Wait, are those flowers from your asshole ex? The one who tried to kidnap Jayden last weekend?” the show’s Director of Photography, Jake Lee, asked. He added with a wink, “Maybe they’re from Deputy Matt.”

Autumn threw him an appalled look. Even the Reviving Snowberry Springs crew had heard all about last weekend’s festival drama?

“Sorry,” Jake said, sounding apologetic. Then he ruined it by continuing, “But is it true that you two have been dating on the down-low? Do you think we could get him to do a cameo this season?”

“I don’t know,” she replied in her most neutral tone. “You could ask him.”

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