Welcome Home, Bobby Winslow

Daisy whined, but stopped when Zip leveled a pointed finger in her direction. Instead, she started to pace back and forth, pausing at times to place one paw on the glass.

“I don’t think my baby is a forest kind of girl,” Zip continued. “She prefers the open beaches of the Jersey Shore. I guess sand’s in her blood.”

“So is mistrusting females,” Leeann said. “Poor thing, she must’ve been hurt pretty bad by someone in her past.”

“Yeah, well, a female will do that to ya.” Zip joined them again. “At least that’s what I know from my limited experience.”

Bobby rolled his eyes, wishing his buddy had gone outside along with Daisy. “Limited experience, my ass.”

“Come on, now, bro. Don’t be dissing me in front of our guest.” Zip grinned. “So where did you two run into each other. Oh, wait, I get it now. The law is a trespasser.”

“I wasn’t trespassing,” Leeann protested. “Well, not much.”

“And as a reward the master of the house offered a tour of his humble abode.”

Leeann looked around the room again, her gaze lingering on the signed Ansel Adams photograph hanging over the fireplace. As hard as he tried, Bobby couldn’t get a read on what she really thought of his home.

“Humble, indeed,” she said. “Plenty big enough for the two—ah, three of you, I guess.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” Zip beckoned with a wave of one hand, backing through the archway behind him. “Come check out this killer kitchen.”

Leeann walk into the adjoining room and Bobby was pleased to hear a catch in her breath as she came to a stop.

The furniture in there was more casual in design. Built-in cabinets lined the far wall; a flat-screen television, state-of-the-art stereo and video gaming system lay hidden behind the doors. Books and artwork, mainly his collection of Frederic Remington bronze sculptures, filled the open shelving. The other wall held an original, one-of-a-kind oil painting by contemporary cowboy artist Michael Swearingin that dominated the space with its sheer size.

“Oh, how wonderful!”

Bobby followed her, eager to see which piece had caught her eye, but Leeann had gone straight to the floor- to-ceiling glass windows that allowed a breathtaking view of the forest and Laramie Mountains outside.

She spun around, a wide smile on her face. “This is so beautiful. What a view! Our kitchen used to be on this side of the house, but the windows never let in a sight like this!”

Leeann turned back to the scene and Bobby walked over to the bar that separated the open kitchen from the family room. He grabbed one of the water bottles Zip had taken from the refrigerator, ignoring his friend’s pointed stare.

“Museum-quality fingerpaints and enough bronze to sink a battleship, and that’s what impresses the lady?” Zip’s voice was low as he twisted the cap off a bottle, replacing it with the still-closed one in Bobby’s grip. “I like her.”