For Love of a Cowboy (3 page)

Willow walked stiffly up the street, past an old railway depot that looked as if it had been converted into a boutique brewery and then on past a small park. Beyond the park was a hotel. It didn’t look like the kind of place she could just pop into, use the facilities, then pop straight back out of—especially not looking the way she did right now. She made a face and kept going. Things were getting beyond uncomfortable by the time she crossed the street and rounded the corner onto Court Street. There, hallelujah, the lights were on at a diner on the corner of Court and Main. Willow quickened her pace and pushed open the door.

The scents that greeted her were enough to make her mouth water and her stomach growl very loudly.

“Take a seat anywhere, hon. I’ll be right with you,” a woman behind the counter smiled her greeting.

“Is it okay if I use the bathroom first?”

The woman gave her a second glance and halted in her activity of mopping the countertop. A small frown settled between her brows. “Sure thing, hon. It’s right over there.”

Willow saw the reason for the frown the moment she stepped in front of the mirror after relieving herself. From her temple to her cheekbone was a kaleidoscope of purple and blue and her hair was a complete mess into the bargain. She looked like something that had been dragged through a bush backwards, sideways and then forwards again.

She reached into her pack and dragged out a hairbrush, then attempted to at least restore some order to her appearance. She swiftly braided her hair into a tail that swung over her left shoulder and, with artful arranging, almost hid the worst of the bruising on the side of her face. A dampened paper towel served as a washcloth as she washed her face at the basin. There, it wasn’t perfect, she thought as she studied her reflection, but it would have to do.

Back in the diner she took a seat at the counter. A mug almost instantly slapped down in front of her and the waitress began to pour her a coffee.

“Were you at the Wolf Den last night? I hear there was a fight, again.”

“The Wolf Den?” That must be the bar next to Tanner’s Garage. “No, I had a bit of an accident in my VW bus yesterday. Landed pretty hard on my left side.”

The woman nodded, although Willow had the distinct impression she didn’t fully believe her.

“Can I get you something to eat?”

“A big breakfast, please.”

“The works?”

“Sounds like exactly what I need,” Willow answered with a smile.

It probably would be outside of her carefully planned budget—a budget that would no doubt be blown to hell by the repairs to Daisy—but what the heck. She hadn’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday and a good meal now would hopefully tide her through the whole day. Maybe she could pick up some granola bars or something for later on. She took a sip of her coffee and relished the sensation as the caffeine eased into her system.

“What brings you to Marietta?”

Willow smiled again. “I’m on an adventure. My mother came here years ago. She died a few months back and I thought it would be fun to follow her trail, especially since the county fair is coming up and I know she really enjoyed it. In fact, she met my father there.”

The woman across the counter gave Willow another piercing look. “That’s one heck of an adventure. Are you looking for your father?”

“I might be,” she admitted carefully.

“Good luck with that. The population here swells with summer folk and visitors to the fair. He may not be local, you know.”

Willow nodded. Thing was, she had a name, and a post office box address. And a pile of letters marked “return to sender” that she’d mailed to him after her mother had died. He was local all right, but he clearly didn’t want anything to do with the daughter he’d fathered all those years ago. That was about to change if Willow had anything to do with it.

“Order up!” A cry came from the open window between the kitchen and the front counter.

The waitress grabbed Willow’s plate and put it in front of her, together with a set of cutlery.

“Just holler if you need anything,” she said as she grabbed some menus and sauntered over to a booth where a couple had just seated themselves.

“Thanks,” Willow answered and turned her attention to her plate.

She would never normally have been capable of consuming such a quantity of food but the scrambled egg, hash browns, bacon, biscuits and gravy all soon disappeared. The sausage she wrapped carefully in a paper napkin and put in the side pocket of her bag. It would do for later, she decided.

Willow paid for her meal and left the diner feeling decidedly more optimistic than she had when she’d walked in. It was amazing what a good meal could do for a person. Now, all she had to do was find somewhere to stretch her legs before she could look for the yarn store that had been listed on the Marietta chamber of commerce website, and hope like crazy that they wanted to buy some of her yarn.

Thinking about her yarn reminded her of Booth Lange and how his jeans had stretched tight across his butt as he’d bent down to pick the skeins up from where they’d scattered. A shimmer of heat raced up her spine, making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck tingle with anticipation. He’d been a surly thing, but beautiful with it. Beneath that black Stetson his face had been carved perfection and that voice…It was enough to make a girl go all weak inside. She wondered what he’d sound like whispering sweet nothings in a girl’s ear.

Determinedly, she shoved all thoughts of Booth Lange to the back of her mind. However he spoke to his lover, he certainly hadn’t used that tone of voice with her. No, for her he’d reserved annoyance and frustration with a liberal dose of barely suppressed fury. It was a good thing she was unlikely to bump into him again anytime soon.

Willow sat down on a bench outside the handsome grey stone courthouse building and reached into her pack for her mother’s journal. She unwrapped the silk scarf she’d protected the book with then carefully opened the leather-bound journal and inhaled as the sweet scent of orange blended with patchouli drifted from the pages. Every time she smelled that signature scent, it was as if her mother was right there with her, guiding her along. Tucked in the front cover was an old map of Marietta, and Willow gave it a quick look before tucking it and the journal back inside the pack. Satisfied she had the image of the map clear in her mind, she rose and made her way north over the railroad tracks and then took a left turn, over the river, toward the fairgrounds.

Even now, three weeks out from the fair, there was already activity going on. She stood a ways back, leaning against the solid trunk of a tree, and just watched as people came and went.

“I’m here, Mama. And I’m going to find him,” she promised out loud.

After a bit she noticed a small black cat picking its way over the grass toward her. She squatted down and held out her hand.

“Hello, beautiful. Have you come to bring me luck?” she asked as the cat butted against her hand and started to purr. “I sure hope you’re better at it than that blasted deer yesterday.”

Willow reached into her pack and found the sausage wrapped in the paper napkin. She broke a tiny piece off and offered it to the cat, who sniffed at it delicately before scarfing it down as if it hadn’t had a meal in forever. Willow laughed softly and scratched behind the kitty’s ears.

“I know how you feel,” she said. “I was in the same state this morning. Ready to eat just about anything.”

She broke off a bit more of the sausage and left it on the grass for the cat to eat. Would it be too early to head back to the garage by now, she wondered? A glance at the height of the sun in the sky was her only answer. Yeah, probably still a little early. She sat herself down at the base of the tree and smiled as the cat immediately jumped on her lap and did a couple of circles before tucking itself into a ball and settling down to sleep.

“Hey, don’t get too comfortable,” Willow cautioned, but she couldn’t resist stroking the glossy black fur, nor could she bring herself to move in any great hurry and push the cat away.

Instead she spent the next hour reading her mother’s journal again. Even though the words were already imprinted in her mind, looking at the violet colored ink scrawled across the pages in her mother’s looping handwriting and seeing the fairground in front of her made her mother’s words come to life in a way they hadn’t before.

She realized she’d dozed off when the sound of a truck backfiring brought her rudely awake again. The cat was long gone from her lap and the sun was now higher in the sky, building in warmth and brightness as the morning drew on. Willow cursed out loud. Judging by the change in the sun’s angle, she’d slept for well over two hours and now not only was her backside as numb as if she’d had a spinal block, she had a generous scattering of cat hair on her jeans as well.

She got up and dusted herself off then rewrapped her mother’s journal and stowed it away again. It was only to be expected that after having read the journal that she’d dream of her mother, but instead of the usual closeness Willow experienced when she’d dreamed of her before, it had left Willow feeling unsettled, almost uneasy. A cloud passed over the sun and she fought a back a shiver. Her superstitious nature told her the dream had been a warning of some kind. But what?

Grabbing her pack and making her way back into town, Willow pushed the dream, and the sense of unease it had left her with, to the back of her mind. She couldn’t let fear, or even her superstitions, rule her life. She was on the cusp of what she hoped would be a new beginning for her. She couldn’t let anything ruin that.

Things were getting busier on the streets, she noticed, as she made her way down Main Street. The diner was bustling with patrons and the stores she passed were all open and busy. It seemed Marietta was a lively town. No wonder her mom had loved it here.

Three blocks down, Willow found the place she was looking for. She looked up at the sign. “Superstitch’n’s.” She couldn’t help it. A broad smile wreathed her face. If ever there was a sign from the universe, this was it. And, to make things even better, a neatly printed “Help Wanted” sign sat in the front window. Things were definitely looking up, Willow thought as she squared her shoulders, pushed the door open and marched right on in.

The young woman behind the counter near the front of the store was on the phone. Willow didn’t make a habit of eavesdropping but standing where she was, she couldn’t avoid hearing the one-sided conversation.

“Little brother, you worry too much. I’m a big girl now and I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

The woman put her hand over the mouthpiece for a second to smile in Willow’s direction.

“Sorry about this. I’ll be right with you.”

She rolled her eyes in a manner that reminded Willow strongly of Booth Lange. And Willow knew exactly why with what the woman said next.

“Yes, she’s just walked in.”

S
o, last night’s
rescuer was already on the phone and probably warning the store’s owner all about the crazy woman driver who’d almost hit him head-on. Willow forced herself to loosen the tension that had crept into her shoulders at the thought of him and drifted away from the counter and through the store.

Long and narrow, it was neatly fitted with rows of cubbyhole shelving on either side and had a run of stands staggered in a line in between. One side of the store appeared to be devoted to yarn and knitting and crochet, the other to crafts and quilting. A small area at the back was set up like a workroom. Perhaps for classes? It was perfect if that was the case.

This was her kind of place. Willow’s fingers itched to reach out and stroke the mohair shawl draped on a store dummy. The pattern was intricate and lacy and exactly the kind of thing she loved to knit when she had the patience and the time, and the colors were a delicious blend of soft pinks and purples through to peacock blue and back again.

“Hi, I’m Ness.” The voice came from behind her. “Sorry about the phone call. What can I help you with?”

Willow turned to return the greeting and instantly noticed something she hadn’t seen before. While the woman was tall and slender, she was also very definitely pregnant.

“Willow Phillips,” she replied, putting out her hand to introduce herself properly. “I’m new to town. I love your store and particularly this.” She gestured to the shawl. “Did you knit that yourself?”

Ness smiled. “I did. Are you a knitter, too?”

“I am. I do a range of my own hand-dyed yarns. I was hoping I could show you some of my stock and that maybe you would be interested in taking some on consignment?”

Ness looked rueful. “I’m pretty heavily inventoried at the moment, as you can see but, please, show me what you have. I never turn down an opportunity to look at something new. Maybe we can work something out.”

Willow hastened to oblige and removed the samples she’d brought from her pack. Ness expressed her delight with appreciative sounds, her hands quickly going to the yarn and the knitted samples and inspecting them.

“These are good. Better than I expected.”

“Than you expected?” Willow repeated, confused.

“My brother, Booth? I understand he picked a lot of these up off the road out of town for you after you had your accident last night?”

A hot blush suffused Willow’s cheeks. And had he also told her that Willow was an incompetent driver at the same time? Ness patted her gently on the arm.

“Don’t worry, he can be a bit abrasive at times. I don’t imagine he was overly friendly?”

“Not friendly, no, but he was helpful,” she felt compelled to say.

And he had been. He’d helped her out of Daisy, he’d collected her yarn and he’d called for the tow truck. He just hadn’t been all that happy about it.

“It’s just his way.” Ness sighed. “I really wish I could take some of your stock, Willow, but I don’t have the space right now.”

Willow felt her hopes plunge to the soles of her boots. She reached for her things and started to pack them back in her bag. “No problem. It was worth a shot.” She took in another breath then let it out carefully. “I noticed you’re looking for help in the store?”