Her Cowboy Reunion

Her chest actually hurt, though she didn’t think it was anything serious. Yeah, why would she get off that easily? “No,” she said, and even managed a smile. “I don’t see how.”

“You’re not from around here?”

“Nope.”

“Billings?”

She shook her head. “Denver.”

“It’s not a line. You really do look familiar.”

She shrugged. “I get that a lot.”

Mike frowned. “I can’t see why,” he said, his whiskey-brown gaze roaming over her face and lingering briefly on her mouth. “I’m Mike, by the way.”

“Savannah.” She’d gone by Elizabeth back then, if he’d known her name at all. Her middle name should throw him. “Well, I’d better get back to the table. I promise not to bulldoze over you again.”

“No worries. I’m tough,” he said with a dazzling smile. It disappeared in the next instant. “I know where I’ve seen you—you were that kid—” He cut himself short and, with a slight frown, searched her eyes.

Panic roiled in her stomach. She heard a whimper and, with a start, realized it had come from her. Unable to move, she stayed frozen in her tracks as she silently pleaded with him to not give her away.

“No,” he said after the longest ten seconds on record. “I was thinking of someone I met at the Denver stockyards a while back.” He moved to let someone pass. “Ever been there?”

She just shook her head.

“Sorry, my mistake.” With a quick smile, he shrugged and walked away.

Chapter Four (#ube38997e-4a7b-528b-a3de-d4c47d4e28c9)

Savannah had slept in longer than she’d intended, so by the time she hit the continental breakfast in the lobby, the only thing left on the silver trays was a blueberry muffin and some kind of fruit Danish bearing the indent of someone’s finger.

Good thing she wasn’t all that hungry. She could smell the coffee, though. Before she made it to the cart with the silver urn, a woman came out from a room behind the desk.

“Looking for coffee?” she asked, and Savannah nodded. “I was just coming to check if I needed to make a fresh pot.”

“I’ll let you know in a second.”

“I’ll go on and get some started. It seems you got shortchanged,” the woman said, nodding at the table.

“I’m late.” Savannah grabbed a cup. “My fault, not yours.” She flipped the lever and watched the dark sludgy brew stream into the cup.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I promise it’ll just take a minute.” The older woman’s updo was a ’60s-style beehive like the one Savannah had seen in pictures of her late grandmother. Glancing at the bowl of apples, the woman hustled back around the desk then paused at the door. “I have some oranges, if you’re interested.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll go see what they have at the bakery.”

“Well, I feel just terrible. You paid for a room same as everyone else. We should feed you breakfast.”

Savannah smiled. “Actually, I’m going over there for a latte. So, please, don’t worry about it.”

The woman darted a look at the glass door. “You know, your fiancé left about ten minutes ago. Maybe he went to get something to surprise you.”

Savannah frowned. She’d only spoken with Patty at the desk, and yet this woman knew Ron was her fiancé. Oh, great.

“We haven’t met. I’m Maxine.” She pointed to her name tag. “It’s Patty’s day off. She told me you had a handsome fiancé, and my word she didn’t do him justice at all. You’re very lucky,” she whispered, nodding sagely.

Savannah dug up a smile. “Yep, he’s a peach, all right.” She scanned what she could see of the parking lot. “Any chance you saw which way he went?”

“Hmm, well, he got in his car...”

Of course...he still had her key. “Okay, thanks, Maxine.”

“I’ll have fresh-made before you get back, hon.”

Savannah kept walking but waved an acknowledgment. As soon as she was outside, she remembered she needed money and glanced around as she patted the pockets of her jeans. Luckily, she found a crumpled five-dollar bill and some change.

Crossing the parking lot at a clip, Savannah headed toward the bakery. Two shops down was the steak house that had reopened in the last year. Halfway there, she felt the chill seeping in through the lightweight sweatshirt she’d thrown on just to grab coffee in the lobby. It was in no way adequate for a chilly fall morning.

They had quite a full schedule today. Nina had obtained a list of people who were turning portions of their ranches or bunkhouses into guest quarters, mostly in line with a B & B rather than a dude ranch. Savannah figured they could form a co-op in order to offer the same kind of activities that actual dude ranches provided. But she’d know more after she’d visited with them.

The brisk walk helped wake her up, but she was more than ready for a hazelnut latte by the time she opened the door to The Cake Whisperer. What she wasn’t ready for was a crowd. It seemed half the population of Blackfoot Falls had squeezed into the small bakery. The benches on the right were taken, as were the only two chairs. Standing a little too close together were dusty cowboys, a couple young moms, several older ladies...

...and Mike.

Wearing a Stetson, the brim pulled low, he stood off to the side, his head bowed toward an older woman as he listened to whatever she was telling him.

What on earth was he doing in town this early? Shouldn’t he be feeding horses or milking cows or something?

Savannah seriously thought about slipping back out. And she didn’t much care if he noticed.

“Oh, don’t be shy, honey.” A tiny white-haired lady caught Savannah’s arm with a surprising grip. “Not everyone’s in line. They’re just gossiping. You just step right on up here,” she said, tugging on Savannah.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll come back later.”

The door opened behind her, and three women crammed into the shop. They kept chatting, apparently unaware that they were literally breathing down the back of her neck.

“Is there a special on today?” Savannah muttered.

The white-haired lady chuckled. “Kylie,” she said, nodding at the woman reaching into the display case. “She’s the owner. She bought a fancy coffee machine, and now she’s got a bunch of us hooked on caramel lattes. Ever heard of them?”

“Um, actually, yes.” Between the scent of the coffee and the fresh-baked aroma of cinnamon and sugar, her stomach wasn’t all that pleased about leaving and let her know it. She risked a glance at Mike.

He was looking right at her.

Savannah sighed. On top of really not wanting to engage with him, she probably looked like crap, since she hadn’t intended to go beyond the motel lobby.

It wasn’t too late to make a getaway.

“Excuse me,” she said, pulling back her arm. “I really don’t have time to wait.”