Love on the Range: A Looking Glass Lake Prequel
Read Love on the Range: A Looking Glass Lake Prequel Online
Authors: Rebecca Nightsong
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
Rebecca Nightsong
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2016 by Rebecca Nightsong
Smashword’s Edition
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America by:
First Printing, 2016
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design provided by Rachel Ault. ([email protected])
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my sweet husband, Kristoph Bartunek, my Moose.
Moose,
You are crazy and loving enough to let me quit my day job and write. Your handsome charm and strong but tender character inspire every story I write.
Thank you for throwing yourself wholeheartedly into this thing called marriage, and for truly living with me in understanding, as God’s Word instructs.
Thank you for letting me name the Moose Dimple Café after you.
Thank you for the pep talks when I was tempted to give up…you always knew exactly what to say and do to lift me back up.
May God reward you many times over for supporting the calling He has given me, and may He give you more joy than you can imagine.
I love you always,
Your Maui
CHAPTER ONE
Marlee’s eyes hurt from being glued to the window the whole way to Looking Glass Lake.
She could hardly believe that she, Marlee Donovan, a city-girl from South Carolina, was sitting in an authentic old-west train, chugging toward a new job on an honest-to-goodness ranch.
Ahhh!
She stretched against the red crushed velvet upholstery. This train might be over a hundred years old, but it was far more comfortable than those cramped vinyl seats she’d squeezed into during her connecting flights across country.
Commercial jets boasted speed and efficiency, but the last leg of her journey to Looking Glass Lake was steeped in the genteel luxury of a bygone era.
What a perfect way to begin her new adventure.
“We’re about ten minutes away, Miss.” Lester walked down the aisle toward her. With his gray handlebar mustache and green and gold conductor’s uniform, he looked like he’d just stepped out of the pages of a Wild West history book. He took out a pocket watch and flicked open the cover. “Only a few minutes, and you’ll be on to your new job.”
Excitement skittered up her spine. “I can’t wait.” She laughed. “I wasn’t prepared for how beautiful it is out here.”
The old man smiled and tucked his pocket watch away.
“I had friends in culinary school who told me about the west,” Marlee said. “They said it was breathtaking, but I’m not sure that was the best word for it.”
Lester chuckled. “How would you describe it?”
“Delicious.” Marlee gazed out the window as the train chewed through a swath of forest and then crested a ridge. She gasped. Below them, a prairie rolled green and gold and deep purple over undulating hills. She itched to grab her knives and slice into the purple and golden plains and the deep blue-green of thick forests.
“The west is the kind of place that if you ate it, juice would run down your chin,” she murmured.
The old man patted her shoulder. “That there is the Camas Prairie,” he said. “I always thought it was the purtiest welcome mat any town could have.”
Prettiest welcome mat.
Lester’s words rolled through Marlee’s thoughts when she stepped off the train. She squinted her eyes in the sun, and adjusted the knife roll on her back to calm nervous butterflies in her stomach.
A town like Looking Glass Lake didn’t need a pretty welcome mat. Not when old-west charm oozed out of every corner. She should be taking pictures, but she was too busy gobbling up the scenery of this beautiful mountain town. It seemed almost sacrilegious to stop and mess with the camera on her new phone at a time like this.
The dusty train station platform was obviously ancient. It still carried the ornate ironwork at the ticket windows. And lining the streets, more old buildings with gingerbread trim and peeling paint greeted her.
She didn’t know where to look first. Her eyes skipped from one sign to another: Sleeping Dog’s Antique Parlor and Pawnshop, Mustang Sally’s Beauty Salon, and Canyon Sloop Marina.
Across from the train station crystal blue waters of the lake winked, and next to it, a two-story building lounged slightly crooked, its gnarled log construction looking like something out of a John Wayne movie.
A wide porch trimmed the building. Rockers lazed next to a few low-slung wooden benches. A large wooden sign above the door read, “Moose Dimple Pharmacy and Café.”
Marlee grinned. No doubt about it, Looking Glass Lake had “welcome” stamped all over it.
A little thrill ran up Marlee’s spine as she crossed the street. Lucky for her, the train had arrived early. She’d have enough time to poke around at the café across the way. Maybe meet some locals and see if they carried any fun things like jams or sauces concocted by farmer’s wives.
A tinkle of bells sang out as she shoved the door open.
The place seemed quiet enough. It still smelled like bacon from the morning’s cooking. Right now, the only customers were the stuffed teddy bears riding leather saddles across shelves throughout the room.
The room was divided into a café on one side, and a pharmacy on the other.
An old man with a bushy gray beard sat behind a cash register on the pharmacy side. He looked her up and down when she walked in.
“Hi.” Marlee smiled at the man.
He grinned back, blue eyes nearly disappearing into deep creases. “Girl, you best untuck yer jeans from yore cowboy boots. Folks will think you’re all hat and no cattle.”
Marlee blinked. “All hat and what?”
A redhead came out of the kitchen just then. She was a scrawny woman about Marlee’s age. She had on a pair of denim shorts, and an apron that barely hid knobby knees. Her pink t-shirt said “Cowgirls rule.”
“A woman can always show off cute boots,” the redhead said. She strode across the room, and shook Marlee’s hand. “I’m Annie.”
The smile Annie gave her was as warm as the smell of blueberry pie floating in from the kitchen.
“All hat and no cattle,” the old man chimed in. “It means you don’t know what you’re doin’. Means you’re all for show.”
“Ignore him,” Annie said. “Can I get you some lunch? Or pie?”
Marlee shook her head. “Someone’s going to pick me up in a few minutes. I wanted to see what kinds of home-made things you might have.”
Annie hooked her arm through Marlee’s and pulled her toward the pharmacy side of the building. “We sold out of Fern Aimstock’s peach preserves yesterday,” she said. “But there’s some garden produce.”
The old man walked around the end of the counter and stood next to Marlee. He had a big black umbrella he used as a cane.
“You must be the new cook at the Paycoach outfit,” he said.
Marlee nodded.
“I’m tellin’ ya.” He rocked back on his heels and tapped the tip of his umbrella on the floor for emphasis. “You keep those jeans tucked in, and you’ll look like a goat roper.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “Meet Crazy Hoss,” she said. “Usually, he’s a lot nicer to visitors.” She glared at the old man, and he glared right back.
“Nice to meet ya.” Crazy Hoss grinned and tipped his hat to Marlee. Then he turned back to Annie. “I ain’t trying to be ornery,” he insisted. “I’m just givin’ her some advice that might come in handy for her first day on the job.”
Marlee smiled at Crazy Hoss. Ornery or not, she liked this blustery old man and his soft whiskers. “What’s a goat roper?”
“A wanna-be cowboy,” Annie said.
“A faker,” Crazy Hoss corrected.
Marlee’s cheeks burned. Marlee Donovan wasn’t a wanna-be anything. “I’m a chef. A professional chef.” She straightened her shoulders. “I earned my diploma a few months ago.”
